Mischief

Mischief: Chapter 7

The Fellowship had resumed their journey once again, and after an exhausting three-day march North out of the woods and across a stretch of rolling plains they finally came to a stop in a sparser, but no less merry, patch of woods.

Boromir, who Gimli had avoided for the entire seventy-two hours, finally caught up with him after they had set up their beds and tools.

"Look Gimli, I know what it looked like, but I swear it was not me who did it," the man spoke from behind Gimli's back.

The dwarf spun around with startling speed to pin him with a scowl that would have curdled fresh milk.

"Then who was it?" He was standing so close that the human could smell Gimli's breakfast on his breath.

"Who else would it be? Of course it was Legolas! After the whole thing with Gandalf who else would possibly do something like cut off your beard?" One could never tell whether Gimli really didn't know or he was just acting.

Whether it was true or not Gimli didn't mind, still wanting to make-up for the first failed attempt.

"Fine then. So the elf did it. What are we gonna do 'bout it?" Gimli looked up at Boromir, a spark in his eye that would have sent even his friends running.

"We? What do you mean we?"

"Well for starters lad, he framed you and cut off my beard. That alone is gonna earn that stupid elf prince a good prank!"

It didn't take much convincing for Boromir to agree to "assist" Gimli in his revenge. He never liked Legolas much anyways, so he wouldn't be losing any sleep over some payback.

How they were going to that was yet to be decided.

The sun shone high above their heads and the wind chased the clouds across a backdrop of light blue, and all was peaceful for the time being.

An "intricate" plan was woven from the combined minds of Man and Dwarf, which involved nothing short of lots of brute strength and less brains. The Elf was deemed too sneaky and too watchful to outsmart, so the duo had resorted to a simple yet in the whole enjoyable prank for them at least, involving bees and a lake.

A colony of bees buzzed on a medium-sized oak tree, busy with attending the Queen. The hive hung just over the way to a glittering lake on a thin branch hidden by a bundle of thick leaves. The two sides of the thin path were lined with rocks and other hazardous things, but in the middle, it was wholly safe and well-trodden by travelers before the Fellowship. It was a one-way path straight to the water.

The only part left was the find someone to help lead Legolas away from camp, most likely one of the hobbits.

In the end, Gimli managed to only convince (bribe him with extra food) Meriadoc Brandybuck, the others not willing to risk Legolas's wrath.

It was right before a quarter to dusk when Merry burst into camp out of breath and sweating, calling out to Legolas, who was checking his arrows and bow by the fire.

"Legolas! I found something that you should probably come and check!" He shouted.

"What is it?" The elf looked up from his task.

"I think it's an elf!" Merry shouted hurriedly, feigning anxiety.

Before the hobbit could even open his mouth once again, Legolas had sprung up and dashed to the path, with Merry following his footsteps, smirking silently to himself.

"It's down the path!" Merry yelled from behind him as Legolas gradually gained distance, his shorter legs working to keep up with the wood-elf's longer strides.

Seeing the tree appear as they ran down the path, Merry silently, the way only a hobbit could, started to scampered the other way, hoping that Legolas wouldn't turn his head.

He did, but much too late.

With one swift chop, Gimli severed the branch from the other side of the wide trunk and bolted away from the scene, letting out a cackle as he did so.

The hive dropped, the sound of bees became deafening, and though Gimli couldn't see through the leaves and bushes very well, he could still clearly hear Legolas's high-pitched howling and see glimpses of his flailing, and the noises soon became distant as the archer made a beeline for the lake.

Merry ogled (a little bit guiltily) as the prince danced around, waving his arms frantically over his head squealing and cursing in Elvish.

All the lacerations from the thorn bushes and pointed rocks were worth every wound to Gimli as he hopped onto the path, watching from a safe distance as the struggling elf was tackled by Boromir at the water's edge, hurling both him and his wailing victim into the rippling waters.

"WHA-" Legolas didn't even get to finish his sentence before his head was submerged a second time by Boromir, and there they stayed for as long as their breath allowed them.

By that time, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Aragorn, and even Gandalf had rushed to the lake, where the wizard promptly sent the bees away with a spell. No creature in the forest could have missed the elf's ruckus.

Aragorn plunged both of his arms into the depths and dragged out a very satisfied-looking man and an unrecognizable hunk of elf, his hair undone and plastered to his face and with quite a few swollen stings on his face and body.

Immediately, Legolas latched himself to the closest thing that happened to be Aragorn's legs, and absolutely refused to let go, making incoherent whimpers and imprecating dwarves and men and hobbits.

It took about an hour to pry him off, Aragorn having to walk all the way back to camp with Legolas clinging to his legs while Gandalf dealt with the troublemakers, tailed by Frodo, Sam, and Pippin all trying to but failing to hold back their guffaws. Then it took another hour to treat the stings and for everyone to calm down.

The next following days were a complete disorder as one prank and another would be fired across all member of the nine, Legolas never really forgetting or forgiving what he now calls the "lake and bees incident", and none of the others forgetting it either.

It was certainly something that would be passed down for generations.