Treed

"We cannot risk it."

"Are you certain?"

"Aragorn, behold how high he rests! If I attempt to knock him out of the boughs, he could suffer serious injury. Is that what you want?"

"Well . . . ."

"Aragorn!"

"Nay -- of course not."

"That's better. Besides, if we do him injury merely returning him to the ground, then we may not be able to safely do him further injury afterward."

"That would be unfortunate." Aragorn sighed and handed his sword to Gandalf, who took it while gazing into the leafy heights. "I shall fetch him," the Ranger grumbled, then raised his voice. "Legolas, I am coming up! I warned you of this!" Seizing a low branch, he hauled himself into the tree, somewhat awkwardly. Damn Elf.

Legolas watched with interest and not a little amusement the Man's slow upward progress. At this rate, night would fall before Aragorn was within striking distance. And when that time came, there was a! lways the next tree, near enough for him to spring easily into its branches, far enough to defy Aragorn's limited skills. The Ranger
would have to descend, move to the other tree, and begin climbing anew. Could take weeks.

Gandalf, observing, scowled up at the recalcitrant, concealed Elf. "Legolas!" he boomed. "Come down from there before Aragorn breaks his neck!"

"Perhaps Aragorn should be the one you advise, Gandalf, if it is his neck for which you fear," Legolas called in reply. Ai, Valar, but he would be in trouble when he eventually returned to earth. He glanced about his airy refuge. Wasn't half bad -- might be quite
liveable, in the long term. One more look down at Aragorn, determinedly struggling to gain the next bough, decided it. Yes -- a tree was certainly a lovely place to live . . . forever.

Aragorn had to jump, both feet leaving the branch which presently supported him, in order to reach the next. The tree swayed slightl! y and he fought a wave of vertigo. "Legolas!” he yelled. blquote When I reach you -- and I WILL REACH YOU -- I am going to make certain you never sit comfortably again, in a tree or anywhere else!" No answer floated down from the high reaches. Damn Elf.

Gandalf waited, eyes cast ever upward although he could now see neither Elf nor Man in the thick foliage. And, as will anyone standing inexplicably still and staring straight up, he began to attract an audience. Boromir appeared at his side and peered intently into the tree. Moments later, Gimli arrived and joined in.

"What are we looking at?" Pippin now stood on Gandalf's other side; he and Merry flanking the Wizard, Man, and Dwarf. Sam stood off a few feet, also staring into the tree's heights. Lovely tree, it was.

"Hush," whispered Gimli. He turned to Boromir. "What ARE we looking at?" Boromir only shrugged, not shifting his gaze.

"Aragorn is pursuing Legolas," Gandalf whispered.

"Up the tree?"

"Yes, Boromir -- up the t! ree."

Boromir turned a fraction toward the Dwarf. "Aragorn is-"

"Aye, Boromir -- I heard. Thank you."

"Why are we whispering?" Pippin asked.

Aragorn shifted his weight from one cramped leg to the other, then slowly attempted to straighten both. Muscle protested but performed, ligaments stretching tight. From his awkward crouch, stable for the moment on a branch that seemed not quite thick enough for his liking, the Ranger managed to rise until he stood, arms wrapped around the solid trunk. He was dizzy, far outside his element; Legolas was still far above him, comfortable and at home. Damn Elf.

Glancing down toward the Man once more, Legolas sighed. There was, to be sure, none more stubborn on the face of Middle Earth. "Aragorn," he called, "you should descend at once. You do not belong up here." He eyed the other tree through an enveloping canopy of green. Oh, but Aragorn would be fit to kill once he leaped that space. He ! giggled to himself. This was fun.

"I will not descend until you do, Mellon nin," Aragorn called back. He was growing winded. Damn Elf.

"Why is Aragorn after Legolas?" Pippin whispered, to no one in particular.

Gandalf frowned into the treetop. "During our last clash with Orcs, Legolas lost both bow and sword, the fighting was so intense. Rather than retreat, however, he decided that his body was ample weaponry and threw himself physically into the fray. Aragorn wishes to 'discuss' his choice of battle tactics."

"Ah," Boromir whispered.

Gimli studied the base of the tree. "Should I cut it down?" he whispered, hefting his axe. The rest gaped at him; he glared back. "What?"

Aragorn was getting too close. "Aragorn, you will not succeed in removing me from this tree," Legolas called, hoping that his voice sounded more convincing to the Man than it did in his own ears. He received no answer; Aragorn simply thinned set lips and redoubled already enthusiastic efforts. "I am telling you, Ara! gorn -- you cannot catch a Wood Elf in a tree. It is simply not done!" The Elf gathered his long legs
underneath him, assuming a crouch in preparation for flight, then tried again. "Aragorn! Listen to me on this! Alight, before it is too late for you!"

The Ranger did answer, then, laughing mirthlessly. "I would guess, from the increasing frequency and urgency of your pleas, Legolas, that it is not I whose fate concerns you now!" He scrambled onto another branch, reaching ever upward. Anger had long subverted his apprehension; now he climbed like one possessed.

"And what would you do when you reach me?" Legolas demanded. "Spank me right here, in the treetop?"

"Sounds like a plan to me!"

"We'd both fall to our deaths, you know!"

"Hm. Might be worth it."

Legolas sighed. Doom approached from below. Furious, climbing doom, and there was but one option left to him -- run. Or rather jump. Fast. With an ease born of c! enturies in such leafy heights, he leaped from the one tree, across open space sufficient to thwart the Man's efforts, and landed securely in the other tree.

And found himself face to face with . . . the Ringbearer.

Leaves spiralled down and the tree swayed alarmingly as Legolas abruptly left it. Aragorn clung to the trunk, fear overtaking rage for a few moments. Then he glared at the empty bough that had just held his goal, and wanted to scream. Damn Elf!

"Frodo. What are you doing up here?" Legolas shifted to a comfortable position on the branch.

"Oh, I climb trees all the time, Legolas." Frodo reclined in the crook of two branches, his arms folded and his legs hanging lazily. He eyed the Elf. "What are YOU doing up here?"

"Nothing."

"I see. 'Nothing' would not have anything to do with Aragorn, three-quarters of the way up that tree you just vacated, would it?"

"It . . . might."

"Ah. And Aragorn so determinedly climbing that tree would not have anything to do wit! h you turning yourself into an Elven missile and launching yourself head-first into a bunch of Orcs, would it?"

"Perhaps . . . ."

"Ah, again." Frodo beamed. "So what are you intending to do, Legolas? Stay up here, leaping from one tree to the next, forever?"

"Well . . . ."

"Well nothing. Get down. Now."

"Excuse me?" Legolas arched one elegant eyebrow at the Hobbit, his indignant Elf expression slipping into place.

Frodo merely shook his head patiently at the Elf. "Legolas, I don't think you realize just how 'young' you really are. And I'm also reasonably sure you don't realize how 'old' I really am. We look as we will; in maturity, however, I far outreach you. That is a fact."

"Really."

"Yes, really. You are a brave warrior, but you are also still a youth, and you act with reckless impulse far too many times. That battle was one of those times. It did not escape Aragorn's attention, nor Gandalf'! s. Nor, indeed, mine." Frodo tilted his head back, frowning. His eyes were dark, serious, his gaze unwavering. He spoke with a quiet authority that attached irrevocable credence to each word.

Legolas glanced about, considered briefly leaping back into the tree from whence he had come. Suddenly, Aragorn with his blatant fury did not seem so intimidating.

"Legolas, are you going to get down?"

"I don't think so."

Frodo nodded. "Well, then I suppose--" he uncrossed his arms for the
first time, revealing a thin branch he had been holding "--that I could take care of what Aragorn plans for you just as easily myself. And since we are both SO comfortable in trees, we would not risk 'falling to our deaths,' now, would we?" He arched his own
brow and smiled once more.

Legolas sighed, deeply. Across the space, through a leafy curtain, he could hear Aragorn, still in the other tree. In this tree sat an alarmingly confident Hobbit with a switch. Ai, Valar.

"Your choice, Legolas. We can! take care of this up here, and when we climb down, I will intercede on your behalf with Aragorn, tell him you've already paid the price for your recklessness. Or we can climb down and you can face Aragorn without my assistance." Frodo flicked the switch experimentally, satisfied with the sound it made
slicing through air.

"It doesn't seem to me that I have very many options," Legolas complained.

"You're right," Frodo replied. "You don't."

Sighing once more, Legolas nodded. "Alright. I want this done with, and I want to be safe when I finally return to the ground. Aragorn looked fairly homicidal, last I saw." He shifted again on the branch. "So . . . how do you wish to do this?"

Frodo contemplated only a moment, then motioned with the switch toward the junction of two branches, where the tree flattened briefly. "Kneel there. One hand on each branch, and don't move until I say you can."

Slowly, unable to fully believe h! e was doing it, Legolas complied. He turned his back to Frodo and knelt, leaning forward to reach branches that arched out away from him. When his hands were in place, he heard the Hobbit move, for the first time, from across the treetop.

"Alright, Legolas," Frodo said, "I'm going to start. You'll get twenty-five -- I think that will be enough to convince you that you are NOT, in and of yourself, a projectile weapon. Oh -- and you will count each one, just so that I know you are paying attention." He brought the switch down, hard.

As Legolas struggled to remain still and remember the count, it occurred to him that he would henceforth have to beware the fury of not just Man and Wizard, but Hobbit as well, and he groaned inwardly. Life was getting far too complicated!

The End