The Last Will and Testament of Legolas

Aranel Carnilino; 2007

As the far-off pulsing of an army of ten-thousand Uruk-hai neared the fortress of Helm's Deep, one of the defenders took quill in hand, borrowed a roll of King Théoden's parchment, and sat back in an alcove to compose.

I, Legolas Thranduilion, being of passionate mind and beautiful body, do hereby make and publish this, my last will and testament, and do hereby revoke any and all other wills and codicils heretofore made by me.

To Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I hereby bequeath my pink sequined hairbrush (autographed by Glorfindel) and my half-used bar of lavender lye soap, because of his obvious need.

To Gimli, I hereby bequeath my entire collection of "Lórien" shampoo, based on his large quantity of hair, which (hint, hint) needs to be washed ASAP.

To Gandalf, I hereby bequeath my whitening laundry detergent and dryer sheets. Nothing worse than "grayed" and electrically charged robes, eh eh?

To Merry and Pippin, I hereby bequeath all the Lembas I have in my satchel. I somehow doubt that I will need it when I'm dead.

To Frodo, I hereby bequeath my silver ruling ring, which is on my left forefinger, unless Aragorn gets it first (he's got a knack for looting the dead. We all remember Boromir's vambraces). Maybe, once Frodo has divested himself of the One Ring, this one can comfort him when he starts to miss it.

To Sam, I hereby bequeath all the elven rope he wants! All he has to do is see my ada, Thranduil, who will gladly bestow upon him a roll the size of Thangorodrim.

To Thranduil "Daddy," I hereby bequeath my room, as he has wanted it for his new study ever since I added a skylight and a trapdoor.

To Celebwen "Mommy," I hereby bequeath my extreme apologies for dying. I know she will want to kill me for it. Oh, and the box of chocolates that I have been hiding from her for three years are in a secret compartment behind my bed. I didn't touch them; promise.

To Nerwen "little sis," I hereby bequeath my stereo, because I accidentally destroyed hers last year when I tried to convert it into an iPod docking station. However, my entire C.D. collection goes to Galadriel because I lost a bet… (But if Nerwen swipes my JCS CDs before Galaddy gets to them, I won't care...)

To Ondollo "little bro," I hereby bequeath my basketball, football, and track jerseys and my sexy track shorts. Also, my talent for hitting people in the head by bouncing shots off the gym wall. Oh, and he can have my countertenor capabilities for the choir. Male sopranos rock, dude!

To Haldir, I hereby bequeath my bow, arrows, and quiver, if he'll promise not to sell them on eBay. My weapons are not to be vended like inanimate objects! They should be treated with dignity and respect and kept in a shrine at the very least. And he can have all my über-awesome hair care products (minus the shampoo) for his use, as long as everyone remembers that I was always the beautiful one.

To Arwen, I hereby bequeath my pink bunny slippers. It is with great pain that I part with them, but alas! I want them to be in the best of hands (or rather feet) at my departure.

To Glorfindel, I hereby bequeath my coveted parking spots in both Rivendell and Mirkwood. Asfaloth will appreciate it, trust me!

Final note to whom it may concern: I request that anything else of mine that remains be sold, and the money used to obtain a sweet park bench with one of those bronze plaque things with my name engraved on it. Oh, and—

Haldir strode by on the watch, did a double take, and backed up to where Legolas sat, still scribbling furiously. The march-warden raised a shapely eyebrow. Legolas looked up, grinned sheepishly, and hurriedly rolled the parchment, stuffing it into his quiver. Haldir cleared his throat, regarding his comrade inquisitively. Legolas just shrugged in reply and made his way toward the wall with the other Elven archers.

The End