Mischief

Mischief: Chapter 5

"Cut it off?!" Legolas nearly shouted in surprise. "Can't I just braid it or put dirt in it?"

"Nope! Come on, it'll be fun!" Pippin said, much too happily.

"But he loves his beard! He'll have my head!" He was nearly pulling his own hair out of his scalp in distress.

"No he won't! Not if he doesn't find out you did it!"

Legolas couldn't have been more nervous if he was having a personal meeting with his father after running away for a couple of days (Like he often did when he was younger.).

"Who else would do it? I'll be the only suspect!" He retorted, hoping to shut down the idea before it became engraved into the Took's head, but it was too late. Hobbits could be extremely stubborn when they wanted to be.

"You could always blame it on someone else," Pippin looked at him with a face that spoke of evil.

"Who else?"

"Boromir."

Now Legolas didn't know a lot about the human, other than that he could be very obstinate shown by his actions during Lord Elrond's council, and that he didn't really seem to like anyone in the company.

But still, the elf didn't want to frame him, even if he did act like a jerk sometimes.

As if Pippin could read his mind, he quickly said, "There wouldn't be anyone else. You wouldn't want to frame Aragorn, would you? And you want your revenge don't you?"

"Not really..."

"Fine!" Pippin exclaimed, tossing his hands in the air. "Let it be known from this day forth that Prince Legolas would not retaliate to an attack to his pride from a dwarf!"

That was the last straw.

"Okay okay! But it's on you!" He pointed at Pippin.

"Alright. Here's what you have to do..." He pulled Legolas down by his tunic and started whispering in his ear.

***

The sun had climbed up into the middle of the sky by the time Legolas and Pippin returned to camp, not both at the same time of course.

Legolas hid his disappearance in an armful of vegetables and berries and attempted not to look tense as he strolled into the clearing, refusing to make eye contact with Gimli nor Boromir, who was sharpening a dagger in the shadows of the trees.

The sound of scraping metal on metal made the man no less intimidating. The branches laden with lush leaves, rattled too loudly as Pippin peeked out from its depths and jerked his head towards their collective packs. Wincing, he plopped the food down and grabbed his own bag, searching for scissors, his two knives would be a last resort.

A gleam of silver peeked out from underneath his stash of clothes, the small pair of sewing scissors he'd brought just in case, and the elf found that he was both relieved (For not having to dig through someone else's pack) and crestfallen for not being able to back out.

But not that his pride would have let him anyway.

Pippin gave him a thumbs-up and melted back into the whence he came, to do Valar knows what.

Legolas shoved the scissors in his pocket, checking to make sure nobody saw him. Now all that was left was to wait until nightfall to make his move.

***

Soon, it had seemed to the Prince that the hours passed by too quickly and the late dusk sky was rapidly dropping over their heads.

The fire was put out and luckily or unluckily, Pippin was sent out for the watch. At least it would deter suspicion from Legolas.

He lay in his bedroll uncomfortably (This time noticeably farther away from the overhanging wall), waiting patiently for his companions' breathing to slow.

Finally, at last, it seemed like the last of the Fellowship had fallen asleep before he was certain that he could make his move.

Still fully dressed, the Archer rose to full height under the full moon and stepped delicately around the strewn limbs on the dirt ground, listening and following the monstrous snoring of the dwarf.

It wasn't very hard to find him, and his tangled, red beard stood out in the moonlight. Legolas didn't even need his elvish sight or supernatural hearing to find him.

His breathing started to grow short and his heart pounded in his chest, mortified by the notion of waking Gimli or any of the others and being caught red handed.

Taking a strand of red hair in his palm, he held the scissors up, wavering with apprehension.

The scissors closed and Gimli's facial hair drifted to the ground. Well, there was no going back now.

After a long and horribly tense while, he had finally completed his task. Legolas stood up, gazing down at Gimli, whose cheeks and chin was now as naked as a mole rat.

He seemed like a chubby man-baby to Legolas without his beard. It was utterly hilarious.

Even two thousand years of agonizingly practicing self-control under Thranduil couldn't have stopped him from letting out a few muffled laughs from his lips. By the time Legolas was able to calm himself down, his chest hurt from trying so hard not to make a sound and his lungs were heaving for air.

Still, it wasn't over yet.

Trying to tuck a pair of scissors under Boromir's pillow was harder than it had looked. The human was hugging it in both arms and head and seemed to be cuddling it more than sleeping on it. And every time Legolas touched him would make some alarming noise or movement that had the elf scrambling for cover.

After an incredible amount of grappling with the sleeping man and not waking him at the same time, Legolas eventually managed to slip the tool under his head, along with a couple lone hairs as well, then distributing some on his clothes.

By that time, he felt like a half-drowned rat, and even more so when he remembered he had to dispose of the rest of Gimli's now detached beard.

Just as he was walking back to the "crime scene", as he would forever call in his mind, a drowsy voice behind him made him freeze in his tracks.

"What are you doing up so late Legolas?"

It was Aragorn.

A few seconds after his heart stopped beating against his ribcage he finally found the courage to reply.

"I-I'm just getting some air, Estel. No need to worry. Go back to sleep," he said looking over his shoulder, praying that Strider wouldn't notice the pile of beard by Gimli.

"M'kay just don't stay out too long......" The Ranger's eyes were already closing and he dropped back onto his bed, asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Legolas waited a few minutes just to make sure.

Gimli was still dreaming peacefully, grumbling something about "elves and their stupid hair" and how he wanted to eat fish.

Legolas scooped up the leftovers and threw it downstream after a short walk, glad that he didn't bump into Pippin on his way there and back.

But there was no way he was going to be able to sleep that night. Partly out of guilt, and partly because of the mental image of Gimli's new makeover. Mostly because of the latter though.