Disclaimer-I do not own The Lord of the Rings, whether it is the books or the movies. (By the way, I realize certain thing in this fic aren't completely accurate and I don't really know any elvish so the bits that I do try bear with me and my artistic licence, OK?) Read, review, enjoy!
Sighing in annoyance, Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood realm made to shift the long skirts of his formal robes from beneath his feet for seemingly the hundredth time that day. Contrary to popular belief, elves may be graceful creatures most of the time, but none could master these particular robes. Taking into consideration the fact that Legolas had never been one for formality and tradition, he thought it even further unfair that it should be he that was cursed to wear the god-awful garment.
Attempting to console himself that the day was a momentous occasion. He should be glad for his friend on his coronation day, instead of wishing he could rip his robes to pieces and spend the day in the dense forest that encompassed the kingdom of Gondor.
"My Prince," a hand maiden of his father, King Thranduil, softly entered the room and curtseyed low before him. "His Highness requests your presence for the ceremony will be starting shortly."
"Of course, Cerylwyn. Tell him I will be there shortly." As the elf maiden bowed her head and left the room, Legolas took one last glance at himself in the mirror. Sighing in resignation at his appearance, he quickly shoved his ornate mithril diadem on his head and swept out the door.
On his way down the corridor of the palace he stopped in wonder at the sight of a beautiful painting. Marvelling at the way the trees and water seemed to come alive and sparkle at him, Legolas was yet again reminded of how remarkable the achievements of man could be despite their short years.
So long had he dwelled by the painting, drinking in the extraordinary splendour of the colours he found himself brought rudely back to Arda as a trumpet sounded loudly in the courtyard. Realizing in shock that he was late Legolas, concluding that he had no other choice, decided to run.
The Mirkwood prince got a firm grasp on the hem of the detested robes and sprinted as fast as he could down the passageway. Coming to the end, he dropped his skirts and caught his breath before opening the heavy wooden door slowly, hoping to slip inconspicuously into the crowds.
Unfortunately this was not to be the case. Aragorn was already wearing the crown of Gondor and was standing triumphantly on the main steps of the palace with Arwen. Unable to suppress a grin Legolas briefly wondered where Arwen had come from before realizing that the entire courtyard was on their knees, looking not at their new king, but a slightly breathless elven prince.
Feeling slightly self conscious, he could feel, with shame, his diadem working its way to hag wonkily over one eye. A slight blush came over Legolas' normally pale face as he pushed the circlet back to where it should be.
No one noticed the dark figure at the back of the crowd quietly slip away unnoticed as they were all focused on the uncomfortable male elf standing behind them. After all, weren't elves supposed to be composed?
Suddenly, Aragorn, or King Elessar as was his new title, began to laugh. He hadn't seen his close friend this shifty looking since when they were growing up together. Legolas and his father had come to Rivendell on a formal visit and Legolas had gotten bored and sneaked out. However, as he returned he came through a window onto a seemingly unoccupied room, only to find it was the great hall with everyone at dinner inside.
Laughing even harder at the fond memory, the new King of men found he had to prop himself up by grabbing his new Queen's shoulder as tears of laughter ran down his face.
Looking at each other in surprise, the population and guests of Gondor looked on in amazement as their new mighty ruler sank to his knees in amusement. Looking once more pon the now exceedingly shocked royal elf, they too began to laugh.
The crowd grew sober, though, as they hurriedly parted for Aragorn to walk a little unsteadily to his friend and give the bemused elf a huge bear hug.
"-Oooof!"
"You are the daftest elf I have ever met, most assuredly," said Aragorn amusedly. Even on my coronation day you manage to do something to turn all eyes on you."
"Oh no! I never meant to do you any disrespect my friend, I merely mistook the time and-"
"Worry not, brother," the still grinning man interrupted, "I care not. At least you waited until after the ceremony although I am a little disappointed you were not there."
"Ah, yes. Well, I really am most sorry and I can assure you-"
"Do not worry about it my friend. Truth be told it was rather amusing to see the calm and collected Prince Legolas prove that even he slips up from time to time. Come. Let us proceed to the banquet, I am certain you must be hungry after that lightening sprint you just performed down my hallways!"
"How did you-"
"Think not on it, my friend, think not on it!"
AN- So, what did you make of it? I'm not sure whether or not to make this a one-shot or chapter story so please let me know? If this does turn into a chaptered fic I'm not sure if I should move away from the humorous line, abolish it, or try and interweave it into a more serious structured story. Any comments will be greatly appreciated!
Sighing in annoyance, Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood realm made to shift the long skirts of his formal robes from beneath his feet for seemingly the hundredth time that day. Contrary to popular belief, elves may be graceful creatures most of the time, but none could master these particular robes. Taking into consideration the fact that Legolas had never been one for formality and tradition, he thought it even further unfair that it should be he that was cursed to wear the god-awful garment.
Attempting to console himself that the day was a momentous occasion. He should be glad for his friend on his coronation day, instead of wishing he could rip his robes to pieces and spend the day in the dense forest that encompassed the kingdom of Gondor.
"My Prince," a hand maiden of his father, King Thranduil, softly entered the room and curtseyed low before him. "His Highness requests your presence for the ceremony will be starting shortly."
"Of course, Cerylwyn. Tell him I will be there shortly." As the elf maiden bowed her head and left the room, Legolas took one last glance at himself in the mirror. Sighing in resignation at his appearance, he quickly shoved his ornate mithril diadem on his head and swept out the door.
On his way down the corridor of the palace he stopped in wonder at the sight of a beautiful painting. Marvelling at the way the trees and water seemed to come alive and sparkle at him, Legolas was yet again reminded of how remarkable the achievements of man could be despite their short years.
So long had he dwelled by the painting, drinking in the extraordinary splendour of the colours he found himself brought rudely back to Arda as a trumpet sounded loudly in the courtyard. Realizing in shock that he was late Legolas, concluding that he had no other choice, decided to run.
The Mirkwood prince got a firm grasp on the hem of the detested robes and sprinted as fast as he could down the passageway. Coming to the end, he dropped his skirts and caught his breath before opening the heavy wooden door slowly, hoping to slip inconspicuously into the crowds.
Unfortunately this was not to be the case. Aragorn was already wearing the crown of Gondor and was standing triumphantly on the main steps of the palace with Arwen. Unable to suppress a grin Legolas briefly wondered where Arwen had come from before realizing that the entire courtyard was on their knees, looking not at their new king, but a slightly breathless elven prince.
Feeling slightly self conscious, he could feel, with shame, his diadem working its way to hag wonkily over one eye. A slight blush came over Legolas' normally pale face as he pushed the circlet back to where it should be.
No one noticed the dark figure at the back of the crowd quietly slip away unnoticed as they were all focused on the uncomfortable male elf standing behind them. After all, weren't elves supposed to be composed?
Suddenly, Aragorn, or King Elessar as was his new title, began to laugh. He hadn't seen his close friend this shifty looking since when they were growing up together. Legolas and his father had come to Rivendell on a formal visit and Legolas had gotten bored and sneaked out. However, as he returned he came through a window onto a seemingly unoccupied room, only to find it was the great hall with everyone at dinner inside.
Laughing even harder at the fond memory, the new King of men found he had to prop himself up by grabbing his new Queen's shoulder as tears of laughter ran down his face.
Looking at each other in surprise, the population and guests of Gondor looked on in amazement as their new mighty ruler sank to his knees in amusement. Looking once more pon the now exceedingly shocked royal elf, they too began to laugh.
The crowd grew sober, though, as they hurriedly parted for Aragorn to walk a little unsteadily to his friend and give the bemused elf a huge bear hug.
"-Oooof!"
"You are the daftest elf I have ever met, most assuredly," said Aragorn amusedly. Even on my coronation day you manage to do something to turn all eyes on you."
"Oh no! I never meant to do you any disrespect my friend, I merely mistook the time and-"
"Worry not, brother," the still grinning man interrupted, "I care not. At least you waited until after the ceremony although I am a little disappointed you were not there."
"Ah, yes. Well, I really am most sorry and I can assure you-"
"Do not worry about it my friend. Truth be told it was rather amusing to see the calm and collected Prince Legolas prove that even he slips up from time to time. Come. Let us proceed to the banquet, I am certain you must be hungry after that lightening sprint you just performed down my hallways!"
"How did you-"
"Think not on it, my friend, think not on it!"
AN- So, what did you make of it? I'm not sure whether or not to make this a one-shot or chapter story so please let me know? If this does turn into a chaptered fic I'm not sure if I should move away from the humorous line, abolish it, or try and interweave it into a more serious structured story. Any comments will be greatly appreciated!