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Chapter 3: After the Battle

With the battle of Helm's Deep over, Legolas basked in the glow of victory. He stood atop the walls, grinning drunkenly as he thought about all the orcs he had killed with his sniper rifle.

"Did you see the shots I made, Gimli?" Legolas boasted, his chest puffed out with pride. "I took out that orc from point blank range, easy as pie. And that one, and that one over there!" He gestured wildly, his hand sweeping across the battlefield littered with orc corpses.

Gimli, who was busy cleaning the blood and gore from his axe, sighed and shook his head. "Yes, Legolas, I saw. You were very impressive. Now can you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to work here."

Legolas chuckled and clapped Gimli on the back. "Ah, come on, Gimli. You should be celebrating too. We just won a great victory here. The orcs are defeated and Helm's Deep is saved."

Gimli grumbled and continued to scrub at his axe. "Yes, well, I'd be more inclined to celebrate if it weren't for the fact that we nearly got ourselves killed in the process. I bet you didn’t even notice—you’ve been drunk out of your mind this entire time."

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Legolas shrugged. "Ah, a little drink never hurt anyone. And besides, it helps steady the hand. You should try my gun sometime, Gimli. You might like it."

"I'll stick to my axe, thank you very much. It's served me well enough so far,” said Gimli.

Legolas took a long swig from his flask, then smacked his lips and sat down. "Suit yourself, Gimli. But you're missing out. There's nothing like the thrill of taking out an orc with a rifle blast to the chest, the wind in your hair, the adrenaline pumping through your veins." He sighed dreamily and leaned back against the stone.

Gimli rolled his eyes and continued to clean his axe in silence. Legolas, oblivious to Gimli's annoyance, continued to ramble on about his sniper rifle and all the orcish targets he had taken down.

As the sun began to set on the battlefield, Legolas and Gimli retired to the keep to rest and tend to their wounds. Legolas, still drunk and boastful, regaled anyone who would listen with tales of his exploits on the battlefield, while Gimli grumbled and tried to get some rest.