He glanced up at the bank, where Ciendriel stood with her back to him. She'd wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her clothing tight, outlining the shape of her body beneath her clothes. He sucked in a deep breath. The cold water just wasn't enough. He wondered why. He'd never had much traffic with females before this. At least, not of his own volition. There were those who pursued him at home in Mirkwood, and those he indulged because they did. And males, if he was honest with himself. Even Aragorn. He would never have sought the company of the Man on his own, even though he had believed he desired it. And had enjoyed it.

Yes, no one had ever pleasured him like Aragorn had…

It was shameful, to think of all those he had let use him for their own gratification. And yet he had not offered this comfort to Gimli, even knowing the Dwarf so desperately wanted it. More shameful still, he supposed. Maybe it was because he just simply could never see the Dwarf in that light. Maybe it was because he had truly come to value the rare friendship that they shared.

Ciendriel made him feel different all together, which was why he'd told her to turn around, even though surely she'd seen naked male Elves before… had she? The thought made anger bubble within him much the same as it did when he thought about her kissing Frodo. (It had to be Frodo, didn't it?) He could identify this feeling as a jealous possessiveness that no female had stirred in him before. And she didn't even belong to him, in any way. They weren't even quite friends, yet.

Legolas didn't understand it in the least, but he wouldn't deny it, either. He would just attempt to deal with it the best that he could.

"Legolas, what are you doing?" she asked without turning around.

"It floated away," he replied lamely, looking around for the tunic. He spotted it and lunged for it again. He heard Ciendriel laugh, but then the laugh was cut short, as if she had abruptly silenced herself. He turned his head back towards where she had been standing, but she was gone.

Before Legolas could comprehend what had happened, Gimli came charging through the trees. He was waving his battle axe like a madman, and uttering a war cry at the top of his lungs.

"Gimli, what is it? You'll wake up all of Hobbiton!" Legolas moved to jump out of the lake, but then remembered he was unclothed, so he stayed in the water, thankful it was waist deep.

The Dwarf swung his axe down, shattering a large rock with it. Thankfully, the axe stuck in the rock and the Dwarf let go of it, looking at him in surprise.

"Are you naked, Legolas?"

***

Ciendriel had heard the Dwarf tearing towards her through the trees, heard his voluminous breathing before the war cry came, and she leapt up into a large oak, hiding herself in its branches. She knew that Gimli didn't like her, and that he was drunk. If she had been alone, she'd have been tempted to wallop him and teach him a lesson, but not only was he Legolas' friend, it was never wise to fight a drunk of any sort who was armed with a battle axe.

She didn't have time to warn Legolas, hoping he knew how to handle Gimli on his own. She heard their voices below her, and parting the leaves she could see Legolas still in the water and Gimli at its edge. She cringed as he smashed the rock with his axe, but then at the same time as he spoke, she realized herself that Legolas was, indeed, naked.

And now she could see him. The water was little enough of a shield from her keen Elven vision. He was beautiful. She had noticed the lean lines of his back and shoulders when he'd been washing his tunic, and now she could admire the delicate expanse of his chest. His long blond hair was wet and dripped over his shoulders like melting gold. She swallowed hard. He was more beautiful than any female she had ever seen, and she had seen a great many beautiful females, both clothed and unclothed…but very few undressed males. She stared with concentration into the water.

"I was washing my tunic," she heard Legolas tell Gimli, who was staring enraptured at the male Elf much the same way she was. "You splashed ale on it."

"You are more delicious than the finest of Dwarven ales," Gimli declared. "Come and let us have a taste!"

She wasn't sure whether to laugh or leap out of the tree and follow her original instinct to pound him. She held her breath as laughter tried to win out, and Legolas' pale flesh acquired the pink sheen of a blush visible even in the moonlight.

"You're drunk, Gimli, and tomorrow you won't even remember this," Legolas said in a very even tone.

"I'll remember it if I wake up beside you, bound in your golden hair! And you'll remember, boy! Once you have a Dwarf, you never go back!"

Ciendriel heard a noise below her. She looked down and saw Frodo tearing through the trees, apparently in pursuit of Gimli. She wanted to see if Legolas would be swayed by the Dwarf's demands, and the arrival of the sober little Hobbit would surely interrupt. As Frodo neared her tree, she leapt down behind him, putting a hand over his mouth to silence him, then dragged him back up into the tree with her.

Frodo kicked and struggled, his eyes wide with fear until he squirmed around enough to see who had him.

"Shh, Frodo, it's just me, Ciendriel."

The Hobbit relaxed in her grasp, and she cautiously moved her hand from his mouth.

"Why did you do that?" he replied, whispering automatically. "Can't you see I've got to stop Gimli from…from…"

"From what?"

"From embarrassing himself."

"I think you are too late."

From below, they could hear the Dwarf's booming voice. "Did you know I have composed a love poem for you, Legolas? Let me recite it. The first thirty-two verses are in English, but after that there are thirty-two more in Elvish, and then it repeats in the tongue of my people. My Elvish is not so good, so you will have to correct me…"

Frodo looked horrified as the Dwarf began a long, badly rhymed discourse. Ciendriel began to shake with silent laughter, barely able to stay in the tree. She indicated Legolas, who had buried his face in his hand, and suddenly Frodo was laughing as well.

"We are cruel to make fun. He is drunk…he doesn't even know what he is saying," Frodo gasped.

"How can a drunk compose so much poetry?"

"Just be glad that he doesn't write it down!"

"Does this happen often? Is the whole journey going to be like this? I will fear being axed in my sleep. Or worse, having to listen to this."

Frodo stopped laughing at last. "He doesn't imbibe when we are travelling. It is not safe."

"No," she agreed. "Not at all. But mayhap moreso for Legolas than for us."

"Legolas does not want him," Frodo said, sounding surprisingly bitter.

"Would you prefer that he did?"

"I cannot bear to see Gimli suffer."

"I should hardly think he is suffering, though in the morning perhaps he may not feel so poetic. Frodo, can you not see that Legolas cares deeply for this Dwarf? Many others would not still be standing there listening to his poetry by now."

Gimli had reached the part of his poem which he was apparently trying to translate into Elvish, but he was badly mangling the language. Ciendriel began to giggle again as he compared Legolas' blue eyes to a "stinking rose weed." She tried to share this with Frodo, but he only sighed piteously.

"Shall we go down there and put an end to this?" she asked, reaching out to ruffle his dark curly hair. Frodo nodded sadly, so she climbed down from the tree and helped the Hobbit down as well.

***

"I need a bath," Angelica announced from beneath Merry and Pippin, who were tangled together in a very athletic position. "Let me up."

"But, Angelica, we haven't got a bathing tub," said Pippin.

"You'd have to go all the way down to the stream," Merry said.

"I cannot possibly travel all the way to Mirkwood with feathers glued to my body. And look at the two of you. You look like you raided the chicken coop."

"We haven't done that in months," Pippin said, his eyes wide.

"All right, all right, lass. The stream it is."

"But first a midnight snack." Pippin licked his lips.

"I think there is some of that Elvish stew left that Ciendriel made," Angelica said mischievously. Both Pippin and Merry stuck their tongues out at her. Since Pippin's was closer, Angelica leaned forward and captured it with her teeth. Pippin made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, then tried to mash his lips against hers, so she opened her mouth, causing a soft sigh in him.

“I suppose we could eat the stew if that’s all there is,” Merry said thoughtfully. “But I’m certain we’ve got some eggs down there. All this talk of chickens has made me want breakfast.”

Pippin sighed again and leaned back from Angelica. “Breakfast,” he smiled. “Yes, great idea. Right after the midnight snack.”

Another hour passed before the three of them were ready to go to the stream. Angelica was wearing a robe that belonged to Merry, but the boys had gotten dressed. She only shook her head. They were never going to get the feathers out of their clothes. And the bedroom...she wondered vaguely if bathing was worth it. They would only come back and climb right back in a bed full of feathers.

Pippin was munching on an apple as they hurried to the stream as quietly as they could, in an attempt not to wake the sleeping residents of Hobbiton. When they arrived at the stream he nearly choked on it and wound up dropping it so it rolled away and splashed into the water.

They had come across Gimli in the midst of a very passionate poetry recital to Legolas, who stood naked in the middle of the stream. Ciendriel and Frodo slipped out of a large nearby tree as they watched, clearly having been laughing unto tears.

“Frodo looks mortified, don’t you think?”

“Very much so. Wouldn’t you be, Merry?”

“Why would I be, Pippin?”

“I don’t know, why would I be?”

“Ssshhh!” Angelica hushed them, then sighed. “I am never going to get a bath with a great naked Elf in the middle of the stream.”

“I thought you liked Elves, Angelica.”

“Maybe she only likes female Elves.”

“I just wanted to bathe in privacy.”

“So you brought these two with you?” Frodo said, teasing as he and Ciendriel came up beside them.

“What are we going to do about--” Ciendriel indicated the poetry reading, which had progressed to Dwarvish.

Legolas looked up, then, away from his hand, which he’d been using to cover his face, and from Gimli, and saw them all standing there. A look of mortification crossed his features. He sank down lower into the stream, as if attempting to drown himself. Angelica felt sorry for him, even if he was destroying her potential for cleaning off.

“Legolas? What are you doing? I have nineteen more verses to go! Are you swimming away?”

“Frodo,” Legolas hissed. “Some assistance?”

Angelica looked at Gimli, and saw that he was swaying on his feet. Mouth open, she pointed, and Frodo ran to steady him.

“Frodo?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Come on, Gimli. Time for bed.”

Frodo guided the Dwarf back into the woods, down the path towards Bag-End. Merry and Pippin couldn’t hold back their laughter any longer.

“Come on, we can clean up now.”

“Maybe I can find my apple!”

Quickly the two Hobbits stripped and dived into the stream. Angelica stood there, debating following them. The only one she really objected to seeing her naked was Legolas, but if the alternative was a long journey with feathers stuck in unmentionable places... moments later, she was in the water.

***

Ciendriel turned to look at Legolas, who was still half-submerged.

“Are you coming out, or should I come in?” she asked, sounding more sultry than she meant to.

“I can’t.”

“Legolas...”

“I’ve lost my tunic.” He sounded miserable.

“I’ll sew you a new one,” she sighed. “Or-- oh, nevermind.” Ciendriel turned and began to stalk away into the woods. She heard the voices of the others behind her.

“Legolas, isn’t this your tunic?”

“Thank you, Pippin.”

“You haven’t seen an apple float by, have you?”