We're all fanatically jealous about how Legolas seems to have it all: beauty, skills and everything else. And we know it. But what if he's not really as all-rounded as we thought? Don't worry though, he's still as pretty as ever. I can never bear to change that part of him.

Do not own LOTR. What the characters would be doing if I did...

Hidden Flaw

"A bear."

"A tiger."

"It's a bear!"

"You nitwit, bears don't have stripes!"

"It's neither!"

Elladan and Elrohir stopped arguing about the identity of the strangely shaped blob of colourful paint and turned around. "So what is it?"

Poor Legolas looked like he would have liked to murder the twins in the most painful, horrific way ever invented in Middle Earth. "It's a pig!"

Elrohir gaped. "Pigs don't have stripes!" He soon realised that he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.

"They aren't stripes! They're tears!" Legolas then proceeded to try beating Elrohir to death with a conveniently placed bottle of wine.

"How are those- OW!...tears? They're RED!"

Elladan had moved round the table for a better view of the... animal. He ignored his dying brother's pleas for help and tried looking at the...masterpiece... objectively. Personally he couldn't see how any animal could possibly involve red stripes on a pale pink and vaguely oval-shaped background, not to mention that the colours had somewhat blended together due to overuse of water. But he was trying his best.

"Where's the...head?"

Bad move. Legolas abandoned trying to kill Elrohir, who was half-dead anyway, and attacked Elladan with the bottle instead. Said bottle was a lot more dangerous now because it had broken after the assault on Elrohir's unfortunate cranium.

"It's the part that the tears come from!"

Elladan winced as he tried, rather vainly, to avoid a madly swinging bottle. "Legolas, I know you -OW!- tried your best on this thing, but we're -OW!- giving constructive advice here -OW!- and that thing looks like no living animal I've ever seen!" Elladan rushed the last part of the sentence out as fast as he could. That said, he collapsed on the sofa. And found the strength to try killing his twin brother.

"Do you have to have a head so hard it can break glass bottles? You don't need a head that hard so I'll take it off for you!"

It was in-between struggles, kicks and insults that the rather immature twins noticed that both Legolas and his precious painting were gone.

"Where did'e go?"

Somewhere else in Rivendell...

Aragorn had finally found the time for a much-needed nap when a certain blond Mirkwood archer burst into the cluttered room, brandishing a piece of paper at him.

"Legolas, what the... Is that a donkey? Why is it pink -"

CRASH.

Aragorn finally got the nap he'd been looking forward to for months.

The Shire...

Sam was sitting miserably in a corner of the bar trying to work up the guts to ask Rosie Cotton to go out with him. So far, it would seem that this was not working. Misery was interrupted, however, by shock as a tall blond figure hurriedly made its way over to his table, attracting the attention of the entire bar as it went, being twice as tall as the tallest hobbit in there. It waved a limp sheet of coloured paper at him.

"Master Legolas, why are you in the Shire... And why're you showing me a pink rabbit?"

THUMP.

On the bright side, Rosie had to tend his bruised head before he developed concussion.

Mirkwood...

Legolas had almost given up. He was feeling no end depressed. Were his art skills really that nonexistent? After his having lived in Mirkwood a couple thousand years and all, where the elves were so apt at creating objects of grace and beauty...

King Thranduil was pleased to have a break from the constant problems his people always seemed to have. How was he supposed to know why that certain young elf's toys always broke so easily? But now there seemed to be a pause in their troubles and he was enjoying the peace and quiet. This was improved even more as he saw his son arriving back from wherever he'd been for so long. Though he looked to be in a great hurry. Ah, it must be an important letter he was carrying. The King felt proud to know that Legolas had done well in his travels and earned the respect and trust of others.

Legolas made his way swiftly to his father. He needed to find out the opinion of the person he respected the most, the person who would probably understand him best of everyone he knew. He ignored the way everyone immediately greeted him and welcomed him home. He had more important things to worry about at the moment.

Thranduil took the folded piece of paper that Legolas handed him and opened it. There was a pause.

"Legolas... What is the meaning of showing me a child's painting?"

End

A/N: This was... unexpectedly short. My oneshots are usually over 1000 words. Oh well. I don't know what's with me and pink and Legolas. I think they match well. Don't flame me for that. But anyway, I wrote this because I thought, what if Legolas wasn't perfect, and we just didn't know it? Besides the fact that he wouldn't have quite as many fangirls.