"What do the simple folk do, I wonder?" mused Arwen aloud. She was sitting on a little garden chair, and her fingers moved softly through Legolas' hair where he leaned back against her knees.
"Hmm?" asked Aragorn lazily. He was lolling at their feet enjoying the sunshine and revelling in being alone with his two best beloved. The servants, having escorted them with great fuss and fanfare to this glade for their picnic, had finally had mercy and let them be. It was the Gondor Royals' day off.
"What do they do when they get a day like this?" clarified Arwen. "Nothing to worry them, no duties, no orders. Do they just doze in the sun as we are doing?"
"I imagine they feast a bit," said Aragorn. "And maybe dance."
"Sing," proposed Legolas. "And make love." He got a mocking kiss on the nose from Arwen for that.
"You never think of anything else!" she scolded him fondly.
"Last time I was down in the town on high-holiday, there was a huge festival of play-acting," said the King reminiscently. "It looked so enjoyable; I wished I could join in instead of always playing His Majesty."
"Play-acting!" exclaimed Arwen. "Yes, what fun that would be! Shall we have ourselves a play?"
"Oh yes!" responded Aragorn. "What will you be, Arwen?"
"Oh, I shall be a coy young maid. I haven't been one of those for such a long time!" Arwen laughingly pushed Legolas out of her lap as she stood. She loosed her hair from its matronly confines, rolled the top of her bodice downwards by several inches, and looked sideways through her lashes at them. "My name, gentlemen, is Rosa-Linda," she said in high, dulcet tones, and swished her skirts.
Scrambling to his feet, Legolas bowed. "Such a fair maid must needs have many simpering lovers," he declared, "and I would fain be the most simpering!" He seized her hand and covered it in slobbery kisses.
"Fie, sir!" said 'Rosa-Linda', giving him a tart smack on the top of the head. "And we have not even been introduced!"
"Ah, you may have my name, my lady, and my whole being with it!" exclaimed Legolas. "I amr30;" - he thought for a moment - "Orlando." He pronounced it with exaggerated relish, rolling the "r" and humming the "n".
Aragorn guffawed. "Orlando! Never have I heard such a ridiculous name."
"Indeed, you brutish man!" 'Orlando' tossed his head disdainfully, knowing how well the action displayed his flowing yellow locks. "And who - or what - might you be?"
Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity to shed some of his heavy clothes, Aragorn declared, "I am a hearty, lusty peasant, sir, salt of the earth, and a better man than you will ever be!" As he spoke, he stripped off cloak, boots, and shirt in short order. When he went to remove his breeches as well, Legolas and Arwen exchanged an amused glance.
"Much more, my King, and this will be a very short play indeed," teased Legolas.
Aragorn stood happily barefoot in the grass, wearing only his loose woven undergarment. "King?" he expostulated. "Nay, sir, surely you mistake me for some unhappy being. I am a simple, carefree working man - see my muscles!" (And indeed they were not unimpressive).
"I beg your pardon most sincerely for the mistake, sir," said 'Rosa-Linda'. "What might you be called amongst the working folk?"
"I am Vig," he said, swaggering with hands on hips, "for I am most vigorous." And Aragorn cracked a broad grin at the expected groans from either side.
"Yea verily, sir," said 'Rosa-Linda' coyly, running a fingertip down a furry pectoral bulge. "You may yet prove to be sor30;"
'Vig' stepped away from her in mock horror. "You are too forward, young mistress! Have ye no modesty?"
Arwen pouted. "I have changed my mind. Being a maiden is no fun at all." With a wicked glint in her eye, she doffed her petticoats and tucked her skirt around her waist, as 'Vig' exclaimed in horror, and 'Orlando' feigned a swoon to the very ground. "Ah-hah!" she cried. "I have it." She seized upon and donned her husband's discarded breeches; then she snatched up her kerchief and tied it around her head as a bandanna. Finally she picked up Aragorn's sword - the second-best one he always carried just in case - and advanced swaggering upon her man and her elf.
"Avast, ye pathetic landlubbers!" she growled. "On yer knees, now, for ye are the prisoners of a ruthless Sea-Pyrate!" 'Vig' and 'Orlando' exchanged a glance, and dropped simultaneously to their knees as if they had rehearsed it for weeks.
"I prithee, spare our worthless lives, most excellent Pyrate," pleaded 'Orlando'. "We are but poor, lovelorn souls, cast adrift on this most lonely ocean by the cruel scorn of a beautiful maiden!"
The Pyrate glanced over to 'Vig'. "Thou art lovelorn as well?" she demanded.
"Oh, aye," agreed 'Vig' hastily. "I yearn for the sweet kisses and, um, bounteous embraces of the glorious Rosa-Linda."
"Hey," said 'Orlando', giving him a shove. "You can't be in love with Rosa-Linda, I am. I saw her first."
"Hah! She'll never look twice at you, you namby-pamby thing, once I've had my way with her!"
"Will so!"
"Will not!"
The Pyrate tapped her foot impatiently. "By Ulmo's gusty breath, ye are children, not lovers!"
'Vig' bowed his head apologetically. "Your pardon, most worthy Pyrate - we are unmannerly brutes, it is true. Perhaps if you were to give us a few lessons in love?"
An unseemly grin spread over the Sea-Pyrate's face. "A splendid idea, or my name's notr30;" She paused, realizing that 'Rosa-Linda' would hardly do. "Jack," she concluded firmly. "They named me Johnny at my birth, but all the world knows me as Jack."
"Most excellent Jack," wheedled 'Orlando', "I am most anxious to learn from you how best to woo the capricious but inestimable Rosa-Linda." He shuffled on his knees up to her side, carefully avoiding the sword upon which she leaned so casually.
"And I," pleaded 'Vig', not to be outdone. "I know my manners are sadly rustic, but surely a Pyrate of your vast experience, your knowledge of the world, could teach me soft words to soften a cruel lady's heart."
'Jack' smirked down at them both. "So ye both pine for Rosa-Linda, and would learn to woo her."
"Aye, Jack."
"Aye."
"But Rosa-Linda is not here," 'Jack' pointed out.
'Vig' and 'Orlando' exchanged a worried glance.
"So one of ye must play her, and play her well!" concluded 'Jack' triumphantly. "And the other one will woo her to my satisfaction or never see her bed!" 'Jack' settled himself cross-legged on the little chair and mused aloud, marking his thoughts with, it must be admitted, rather fey gestures as he did. "Now, which of ye fine lads makes the better lass? And which needs more polish? By the vasty deep, 'tis no choice at all! 'Orlando', come here!"
Arwen made to pick up one of her petticoats, but upon receiving a mutinous glare from Legolas changed her mind, and satisfied herself with fluffing his hair beautifully around his shoulders as he took her place on the garden chair.
"Now," said the Pyrate to 'Vig', "'tis time to make some pretty speeches."
"Oh, I would rather just kiss than make speeches," said 'Vig', leaning forward and reaching enthusiastically for 'Orlando'. The Pyrate smacked his hand.
"Save your kisses for when you run out of words!" she rebuked him. "Then they'll come in useful!"
"But what if my lover is shy, and objects?" asked Vig.
"Then you have something more to talk about," responded the Pyrate swiftly.
"All this chatter, but no-one pays attention to poor Rosa-Linda," sniffed 'Orlando'. "In faith, you inattentive lout, I will not have you at all!"
'Vig' measured his length on the ground. "Your frown has killed me," he said solemnly. "I die. Now. See me expiring, just as soon as I have finished my speech of reproach." He raised a hand to his forehead. "Cruel Rosa-Linda, may your bitter tears water my untimely grave!" He gave a groan, and let his head fall sideways. 'Jack' opened his mouth, but was forestalled. "Not finished. Oh fates, look down upon this terrible scene and have your vengeance on the wicked, wicked Rosa-Linda. I dier30; I dier30; I dier30;"
"Are you dead now?" enquired the Pyrate solicitously.
"Yes," said the corpse.
"Thank the Valar," muttered 'Orlando' under his breath.
"Come on now," 'Jack' said, nudging 'Orlando'. "Encourage him a little." 'Vig' was instantly up again and on his knees in front of his love.
"Will you love me, Rosa-Linda?," asked 'Vig'?
"Indeed I will, Vig, Fridays and Saturdays and all the other days as well!"
"And will you have me?"
"Most certainly, and twenty more like you!"
"What did you say?"
"Well, are you not good?" twinkled 'Rosa-Linda' - or was it 'Orlando'? - or was it Legolas?
"I certainly hope so."
"Well, you can hardly have too much of a good thing, can you?" 'Vig' moaned painfully in response.
The Pyrate chortled quietly as she sat nearby, making a daisy-chain, watching their faces.
"Marry me, love?" softly said the Human on his knees to the Elf with the golden hair.
"Would that I could, sweet. But there is no way to accomplish such a thing."
The Pyrate got to her feet, and put her daisy tiara carefully on the Elf's shimmering hair. "What good's a Sea-Captain if not to perform a marriage or two?" she asked sweetly. She took a hand of each. "'Vig', wilt thou wed this 'Rosa-Linda'?"
"Nay," he said gravely, "but I will wed 'Orlando' if he will have me."
"And I thee," responded 'Orlando'. And the kiss they shared was as sweet and solemn as any nuptial in a church.
They drew apart slowly, and gradually a smile dawned on 'Orlando's' face.
"Do you know," he said, "I've always wondered what it would be like to have a Sea-Pyrate!"
"Me too!" exclaimed 'Vig'.
With a giggle and a shriek, Arwen in her breeches went chasing off into the woods, hotly pursued by a half-naked King and a daisy-bedecked Elf. And if there had been any bystanders (the Valar forfend), they would likely have told you that Gondorian royals spend their days off - well, very much as the simple folk do.
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Just Another Playful Day in the Forest of Arda by surreysmum
Story notes: The first line will be recognized by some as Queen Guinevere's song from Camelot. As for the rest of it, I'm sure I need hardly point out my stunningly obvious and rather clumsy paraphrases from one of the loveliest comedies in all of English literature.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. But then again, neither did Shakespeare, really. Or Lerner & Loewe, for that matter. Still, my profoundest apologies for all my borrowings, particularly to the rotating Professor Tolkien.
