This small crossover-drabble was written when half of my hobbit-obsessed friends had watched "The King of Narnia", and a dozen vignettes flooded livejournal, with Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin stumbling into Aslan's realm. First I laughed, then I had an idea... and then I sat there, staring in disbelief at the screen, murmuring: "Legolas...?"
I know, some of you would like to see this expanded - and I'd love to - but you'll have to wait until I see the picture in front of my inner eye. And there's nothing to see - yet.
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... and my bow
They stood eye in eye, the blonde elf, slender and dangerous like a drawn blade, and the centaur, towering above him, his broad frame radiating unhidden, enormous strength.
"Your skills are rather impressive", Oreius said, a faint smile in his dark eyes. "And they are urgently needed… wherever you come from. Aslan will be pleased."
"Thank you." The Prince of Mirkwood slowly turned to the scarlet red tent. The precious fabric was drawn back and then his gaze was caught and held by glorious, golden eyes.
He bowed his knee in deep awe, finally understanding.
"My Lord…" he whispered.