This story is basically the culmination of three things I love (weird elves, au's, with a pinch of fairytale stuff). This has all come together to form an AU in which elves are 6 inches tall and share characteristics from european fairy folklore (such as an aversion to iron)

This concept messes with a whole bunch of Tolkien canon that I'm trying to work out (at the moment my main concern is 'how the heck do half-elves work?) but eh I'm having fun. This fic is mostly an opportunity for me to mess with some concepts and get back into writing

I haven't posted fanfic since 2009. Constructive criticism is encouraged.
Big thanks to my good friend Dee for helping me edit. crossposted to AO3

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Legolas jumped from the tree in which he rested and landed upon Aragorns shoulder. The Ranger turned his head slightly and nodded in acknowledgement. Legolas did not fear falling but grasped a small braid by the Rangers ear to steady himself regardless.

"Aragorn. May I speak with you?" He asked, with the implication he wanted to do so privately.

"Of course." Aragorn replied. He turned towards their party as Gandalf continued to struggle with the hidden door. He noted Pippin, kicking pebbles at the lake edge as he sulked after yet another ill advised question for the grey wizard. Aragorn couldn't help but smirk as he walking some paces away towards a somewhat secluded cluster of rocks. It would do the hobbit little good in the long run to continually antagonise Gandalf. Of course this was a lesson he seemed loath to learn and put into practise.

Once reaching his destination Aragorn sat upon the highest rock and placing his foot upon a shorter one in front of him. It was an invitation to the elf to rest upon his knee and speak with him face to face. Elves were particularly loath to do otherwise, prideful as they were.

However Legolas remained where he was, moving only to sit and make himself more comfortable. He did not speak, which only supported Aragorns theories on the topic at hand. Legolas's increasingly poor mood as they travelled closer and closer to the mines of Moria had not gone unnoticed.

Aragorn wondered a moment what might be the best way to broach the subject with his friend. The elf did not seem inclined to do so himself.

He decided upon a direct approach, "You fear Moria."

Legolas hissed, for he was fearful indeed. "Of course I am averse to the evils of that cave! The dank and dark of those stone walls! A labyrinth of rock, endless tunnels from which one can find no escape. And do not speak to me of the metals one might find in such a mine."

Aragorn laughed, "You know as well as I that these are mines of Mithril, a metal even the elves have sought. And do you wood-elves not dwell within stone halls as well?" To which Legolas only grumbled in reply.

"But do not mistake me my friend, I understand your fears. I may not be affected by iron like your folk but there are dangers such a place would offer even me. I do not relish the thought of entering these mines as Gimli might, and only do so for Frodo's sake."

The pair sat for a time in the dim light, coming to terms with their situation. What lay ahead was not an easy thing to accept and the environment only seemed to make it more difficult to do so. It was not the stagnant atmosphere alone but the unfamiliarity of it which put them on edge. An enemy they did not know and could not see was difficult to conquer. Aragorn stared hard at the water and wondered what might be lurking in its depths.

A thought suddenly came to Aragorn, and he interrupted the silence. "But here, a solution! You may ride with me throughout our journey in the mines my friend. On shoulder as you do now, or in the pocket of my jerkin. And before you speak of indignity, think not of yourself but for my sake. To have you and your arrows by my side, and to not worry of loosing you in the dark caverns, would be a great boon to me."

Legolas was indeed going to speak of the indignity of such treatment. And yet in truth he would appreciate the company of a friend during such a journey, although perhaps not the method of travel. Thinking on it for a moment Legolas decided he would be glad to sacrifice his pride in this instance.

Nevertheless he sighed loudly and with is hands on his hips feigned disgruntlement, "Fine then Aragorn, I will do so if only for you. But know I am a proud elf and do not suffer such treatment lightly." Aragorn for his part smiled at the little show his elven friend was putting on. A moment and Legolas could no longer keep the charade, smiling as well. His mood was much improved by his council with Aragorn. He would not be able to avoid those horrid caves, but the prospect of entering them was easier to accept with the reassurance his friend would be by his side.

"Strider! What are you doing over here?" A cry interrupted them and Aragorn and Legolas turned around. It was the hobbit Pippin, his mood seeming much improved as well, jogging towards them with some form of cake in hand.

Legolas rose from his seat, standing once again on Aragorns shoulder. "I was only speaking with Legolas, Master Pippin. But you are in luck as our conversation had just finished, leaving room for yours to begin."

"I bring not conversation but food! The very last of the berry cakes we brought with us from The Shire. I thought perhaps you'd welcome a share of it." Said Pippin as he offered a cake to Ranger who took it gladly. Aragorn had learnt quickly that hobbit food should be accepted and accepted quickly, for it was delicious and rarely offered twice.

"Thank you Pippin, you're most kind!" Said Aragorn smiling. He began to walk back towards the camp with Pippin and Legolas at his side. "Has Gandalf made much progress with the Door?"

"I am afraid not Strider, it remains as closed as ever." Replied the young hobbit. Aragorn broke off a small chunk from the cake and handed it to Legolas before taking a bite of the cake himself. He foresaw a long wait yet before he and Legolas would need to face the Mines of Moria, for good or ill.