Just found a plot bunny, and I had to write it! Hope you like it! Don't forget to leave a review, cuz I would really really love them :)

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The Midnight Raid

Lord Elrond of Imladris knew he was too old for this. O Valar! He was over 6000 years of age. He had seen countless wars and led many armies during his time. Why? Just why did he so much as consider having a part in such childish games his twin sons and foster son were known for. Maybe they had indeed rubbed off on him. He should be more careful in future.

The only reason – which wasn't that much of a reason anyway – that made Elrond follow up with his plans was because he knew his foster son Aragorn so well. And he knew Aragorn's closest friend had arrived in Imladris two nights ago. That was why he let himself have a little bit of fun. Just this once.

"Ada?" There was a knock on the door to his study room.

"Come in."

Aragorn stepped into his study, dressed in his usual ranger clothes, except looking a lot fresher then when he had delivered the Hobbits after their encounter with the Ringwraiths.

"You called for me?" Aragorn asked.

The tall elf got up from his desk and approached the human.

"Aragorn, there has been a thief creeping amongst the halls of Rivendell. I do not yet know his identity nor his intentions. Since I have not been able to catch him, I require your aid in this matter."

Aragorn frowned, "what has this man been stealing?"

"No, I do not think he is a man. He is too quick and sharp to be a man. No, he must be an elf. This elf has been raiding food from the kitchens for two nights already. We cannot let him continue such despicable behavior."

Aragorn was silent, for his mind was reeling. An elf, lurking in the shadows, foraying the kitchens…? This was unusual, as Aragorn himself had been in company of elves for nearly all his childhood. He knew them well, and if there was one think he learnt about the race of Elves, it was that these graceful beings were not heavy eaters.

"I would have tried to catch the thief myself, had I not been busy with some paperwork before the Council in a few days' time. I will entrust this duty to you, Aragorn. I have faith with your tracking skills."

Aragorn bowed his head, "I will find this thief, Ada. Do not worry."

The Ranger had turned and left as soon as he'd finished, and he missed the ever so faint twinkle in Elrond's eyes.

"I'm starving, Merry," Pippin groaned, "and I am sure we've walked down this corridor at least two times already."

"Stop the grumbling, Pip. We are all hungry," said Merry.

"Besides, I don't suppose we could find our way back to our rooms either," added Frodo.

Sam, who was lagging behind for a while hastened to catch up. He had been distracted by the tall columns of walls arches holding up the ceiling.

"Maybe we should ask an elf for directions. Otherwise they might think we're sneaking around. This is their home after all," Sam muttered. He really wanted to talk to one of them.

Frustrated, possibly from the growing hunger, Pippin snapped back, "It's the middle of the night, Sam! Do you see any elves around here?"

Sam blushed, "I meant, there's got to be someone around."

"Well, there isn't." Pippin said.

"You don't mean to say elves do not need to have supper?" Sam wondered, more to himself.

Frodo put his arm around Sam, "I don't think they do, Sam. They're not Hobbits after all. Bilbo did tell me once that they ate little."

"I suppose being that old and all, they don't see the interest in eating after a while." Merry added thoughtfully.

They roamed the corridors for at least another hour – that's what Pippin insisted. Sam didn't mind. He was hungry, that much was obvious, for he was a true Hobbit in flesh and blood. But that hour didn't feel like a long time. In the many winding passages of Rivendell, there were always many windows to look out at the trees and sky beyond. And it was pretty, Sam thought. The night was spotted with twinkling lights of silver, casting a faint glow upon the golden-red treetops which bristled lightly in the cool midnight breeze.

Sam, who was currently admiring the intricate designs carved into the many arches of the hallway, was jerked out of his thoughts by Pippin's delighted squeal from way ahead.

"It's here! I've found the kitchen! And there's plenty of food in here. Hurry!" The excited hobbit was pointing at a smaller, less prominent door which stood ajar. Pippin beckoned them to follow.

Sam tore his eyes away from the beautiful architecture of this elven realm and broke into a rather clumsy run. He was hungry indeed. Very hungry. And his stomach was calling for his attention.

The four hobbits huddled into the kitchen. It was small, lit only by a lamp which hung down from the ceiling by a cord, casting warm yellow light into the cozy kitchen. Though rather small compared to most other rooms in Rivendell, there was ample food. Sitting on the tables were bowls of fruits and breads. There were also tea and cakes. Bottles of wine stood on the rows of cupboards.

They began to eat, chatting at the adventure they'd had on their journey to Rivendell, what they thought about Strider, how Rivendell compared to the greens of the Shire, and all that. Over all the food and small talk, the hobbits began to lose track of time. However, none of them seemed to mind; They were having a great time.

That was, until a voice spoke from the shadows.

"I take it you are enjoying your stay in Rivendell?"

Startled at the voice, the four hobbits jumped in surprise, before leaping to their feet. Merry and Pippin instinctively snatched a couple of apples from the table and were poised to throw them at the intruder. Sam had a butter knife clutched in his hand, and Frodo was trying to hold his friends back. All four pairs of eyes raked the dark space where they'd heard the voice.

"Show yourself, stranger!" Sam called out.

There was silence at first, but then someone stepped out from a corner, behind a tall shelf of wine. And to the surprise and relief of the hobbits, it was an elf.

The elf was tall, like the rest of his kin. But that was where the similarities stopped. Unlike most of the elves which resided in Rivendell, this elf in particular had long golden-blonde hair, with a light tunic in the shades of the forest. He was just…different.

And strapped to his back was a full quiver and bow. With it was a sheath of twin knives with ivory handles. As to why anyone would carry weapons around Rivendell – which was the safest place the hobbits could think off after the Shire – they didn't know.

The elf in question stepped towards them, palms forward in a placating gesture, a smile on his face.

"I did not mean to startle you, Master Hobbits."

The hobbits had long since lowered their guard – and weapons, if you counted handfuls of apples and a butter knife as a weapon – since the intruder had been an elf after all, and they could not fathom why an elf would possibly attack them.

Sam spoke first, his cheeks tinged red, "I am sorry, I thought…we thought you were going to attack us. I mean, you came out of nowhere and…and I thought –"

"I understand," the elf replied, "I did not expect anyone to come here at this hour. I was merely finding some food."

"Would you like to stay and have supper with us, sir?" Sam asked hopefully. Maybe he could learn something about elves too.

The elf hesitated.

"I am sorry, Master Hobbits. As much as I would like to have your company, I have other places to be at the moment. I will be going now. Perhaps another time."

And the elf gave them all a friendly smile before nimbly walking to a cupboard and bending down to reach for a handful of rice grains and various nuts before giving them a small bow with his head and leaping out of the window to the side of the kitchen.

The hobbits barely managed to catch a glimmer of golden hair before the elf disappeared into the trees.

"Well, that was…strange." Frodo said.

"Wish he could have stayed for a while though," Merry sighed.

Pippin yawned, "I think it's time we find our rooms too. Now that I'm not hungry, I'm starting to feel tired."

"You're hopeless," said Merry.

But they all agreed that it was time to turn in for the night – if they managed to find their way back, that is. As they got up from the table, and were about to shuffle out of the door, a man strode in quickly.

They recognized the man immediately. It was Strider!

"Strider, thank goodness you found us!" Frodo said. "We can't find our way back to our rooms."

Aragorn smiled. It was just the Hobbits. For a moment he'd thought he had managed to catch the thief in the act.

"I'm glad I found you Master Hobbits, and I will gladly show you back to your rooms. But first, I need to ask you a question."

"What is it?" Sam asked curiously. It was usually Strider who had all the answers.

"This is important, my dear hobbits, and I fear we have a thief in our midst."

The hobbits stared.

"A thief?"

"I thought Rivendell was supposed to be safe."

"What does he look like?"

Aragorn raised a hand to hush them, "I do not yet know his appearance. But I was told that our thief is likely to be an elf. I was also told that he steals food. That's why I headed down to the kitchen."

The hobbits frowned. True, the door to the kitchen had already been opened when they'd arrived. That was how Pippin managed to spot the kitchen in the first place. Yet when they entered, there had been no one.

"It is too vague, Mr Strider. And elf that steals food could refer to any elf that is eating." Merry argued.

Aragorn seemed to agree and he nodded, "but did you meet anyone tonight? Anything unusual?"

Now they thought about it, there was something rather strange. They had met an elf just a few minutes earlier, and what was the first thing that came into their minds then?

Different.

The elf that startled them was not like the others here. The four hobbits seemed to have drawn the same conclusion and they glanced at each other. Could that be the elf Strider was talking about? They didn't want to jump to conclusions, since the elf hadn't attacked them or anything.

But they decided it was best to tell Strider. If there was truly a thief lurking in the dark, he should be caught right away.

"Well, there was this elf…" And they confided in Strider everything about the curious and mysterious elf that had visited them not long ago. The hobbits held nothing back. They described the intruder from his appearance to every little action he did.

Frodo thought Strider looked distant at first. The man had a faraway look as though he was remembering an event that had happened a long time ago. But Frodo passed it off because the next second, Strider was listening intently to their encounter.

When they had finished, Strider leant down to them, "Master Hobbits, I must ask a favour from you so that we may catch this thief."

Flustered by Strider's request, Sam whispered, "I wish we could help you apprehend this thief. I really do! But we're no warrior or guards, we're Hobbits!"

"I cannot do this alone, Samwise," Strider pleaded, "The thief may be scared away by my appearance. However, he seemed quite friendly towards you earlier. All I need you to do is to prevent him from fleeing before I come."

The hobbits considered this, and then Merry said, "But what if he turns his weapons against us? He was carrying many weapons."

Strider had a small smile on his lips, "Oh, you do not have to worry about those. I do not think he will harm any of you."

The next night found Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin huddled in the same kitchen. Unlike the night before, however, they were not chatting idly, nor were they gorging the delicious food. The mood had changed, and somehow, the hobbits did not feel exactly hungry. They tried their best to act normal, although their conversation was considerably more hushed. Every now and then, their eyes flicked to the dark corners of the kitchen, and their ears twitched at the slightest sound.

They were beginning to think that the thief had decided not to steal food this night, when they heard a light pitter patter of feet from outside the window. The hobbits cast meaningful glances at each other as they turned towards the open window.

And seconds later, the same fair face they'd seen the day before appeared before them, peering into the kitchen from the window.

"Mae govannen, Master Hobbits." The golden haired elf greeted.

Then he pulled himself through the window with the agility and grace his kin was known for. The hobbits stared as the elf made his way through the kitchen.

"I hope I did not scare you," the elf said, "I made sure to make some noise before I turned up."

The hobbits just nodded mutely back.

The thief did not seem to think that anything was amiss, for he just strode lightly to the same cupboard as the previous day, bent down and scooped a handful of rice and nuts.

Now that the elf's attention was not on them, Sam slipped an apple into his pocket. Despite what Strider had said yesterday, Sam thought it would be safer to have something, just in case the thief turned to violence.

With the elf still bent over, the hobbits yelled at the top of their lungs –

"Strider!"

"Aragorn!"

Stunned by the shrill cries from the hobbits, the elf jerked backwards to look at them.

"Strider… Aragorn is – " the elf started to say.

But before he could complete, the kitchen door burst open and Strider ran in. In his hand was the gleaming sword, drawn and pointed at the thief. His head was tilted, almost as if he was considering the elf before him.

"I have caught you in the act, Elf. Thief!" Aragorn said.

Surprise was written all over the elf's face, "Aragorn! I was not told that you were in Imladris."

The elf did not seem too bothered with the sword pointing directly at him.

"Neither was I told of your arrival, at least until my Hobbit friends told me of a thief sneaking at such a late hour into the kitchens, bearing weapons even within the confines of Ada's house."

The elf looked into Strider's eyes and an understanding passed between them. The Hobbits didn't know what had happened, but they saw the elf shoot a glance at the still open window – his only exit.

Instinctively, the four hobbits positioned themselves in front of the window, effectively blocking the exit.

The elf took one slow step backwards from Strider, who still had his sword raised.

"Nay, you misunderstand my intentions, Master Hobbits, I was not stealing," said the elf, showing them his open palm in which a handful of rice grains and nuts lay, "I meant to feed the birds and squirrels in the trees."

Now the hobbits weren't quite sure of this thief. His intentions sure looked innocent.

"Then why did you not come in by the door? Why the windows?" Strider pressed on.

The elf looked amused as he replied, "Why, Estel, I thought it was more convenient."

The hobbits watched in disbelief as Strider let out a short laugh.

But then Strider was back to seriousness again as he asked, "then why the weapons? Imladris is a safe place, unless you are a stranger… or a thief."

The hobbits caught the elf giving them a brief glance, then his gaze went back to Strider, and grinned. If it was even possible for an elegant creature to look mischievous, this look certainly was. The Elf's eyes glittered.

"These weapons," The elf gestured to the weapons on his back, and at the same time reaching up to grasp the ivory handles of his twin blades and unsheathing them, "are for emergencies. Such as when a certain interfering Adan accuses me for being a thief."

The hobbits shivered, afraid that the situation might have escalated more than what was necessary. They could not help but notice that the elf's steel blade was dangerously sharp, reflecting the cold silver starlight.

Their eyes snapped back to Strider, whose sword had gone immediately to guard position. Both elf and man stared into each other's eyes, waiting…

"Sneaking Elf." Strider muttered.

Before he had even completed what he'd said, Strider struck out, faster than the hobbits could even say 'elf'. In fact, they had almost formed the thought that the elf would surely be dead in a second, when Aragorn's sword was parried away by the two knives in a loud clang.

Aragorn's forced the elf to go for defense by forcing a relentless series of blows. The elf's eyes narrowed in concentration, as his knives whirled in a blur of silver. The fighting pair seemed to move in a deadly dance. The hobbits could only stay frozen in open-mouth awe.

With a couple of nimble steps, the elf dodged a bunch of slashes thrown at him, closing the gap between himself and Strider. Now that the distance was to his advantage, as he was wielding the shorter blade, the elf changed his tactic, moving in for the attack and forcing Strider to pull up his defenses.

The ringing of steel against steel echoed around the small kitchen as their blades clashed against each other. It was a rather even match – the hobbits thought – until the elf did something none of them expected. Taking advantage of his surrounds, the elf dodged another blow from Aragorn, then leapt up onto the counter. Using the counter as a leverage, he did a smooth backflip and landed gently behind Aragorn. The elf wrapped his left hand around Aragorn's chest so that he could not escape, and with his right hand, he pressed the blade to the man's throat.

As the hobbits gasped in fear, the elf smiled, whispering into Aragorn's ear, "Nosy human."

"That wasn't fair."

"It was."

"You didn't –"

"You lose."

The elf, who was gleefully teasing his victory over the human, did not notice that the hobbits were looking afraid, and that they saw the need to do something to save Strider from this disgraceful thief. The apple that Sam had been clutching throughout the fight, now found itself soaring through the air, sailing on the course to the golden head of the elf.

And as hobbits, they were quite a formidable opponent when you least expect it. The apple found its mark. So to the dismay of Aragorn and the elf, who realized the red fruit projectile just a moment too late, heard a dull thud as it hit the elf's back squarely between his shoulder blades.

Of course, an apple being an apple, could not do much harm other than at most leaving a bruise in a couple of hours. Even so, it did give Aragorn the opportunity to turn the tables.

Having been distracted, the elf had loosened his grip on his knives, wondering for a moment what had hit him. He certainly was expecting the hobbits to take it in their stride to start attack the 'enemy'. In that moment of surprise, he'd unwittingly given Aragorn an opening.

It all happened in a blink of an eye.

The man twisted violently in his slackened grip, swiftly bringing his sword up, knocked the elf's wrist with the flat of his sword – not hard enough to cause any serious injury, but enough to jolt the knife out of his grip – sending the knife skittering to the kitchen floor. And then, faster than what the hobbits could think possible, Strider hooked the hilt of his sword onto the elf's second knife and twisted, forcing the elf to release his other weapon which fell to the floor just like the first.

Then, with a grin that lit up his entire face, Strider laughed.

"I win."

"That wasn't fair!"

"It was!"

"You cheated."

"You lose."

The elf glowered at Strider, who smirked even further.

And to the astonishment of the four watching hobbits, Aragorn sheathed his sword, and picked up the twin blades which had fallen to the floor. He handed them back to the elf who accepted them, but not before giving another glare at the man.

Strider's smile did not falter as he patted the elf fondly on the shoulder, "I am delighted to see you here, Legolas."

The elf – Legolas as Strider had called him – dropped his frown and returned a smile.

"Ai, Estel. It is good to see you too," said Legolas.

Suddenly remembering that the hobbits were still staring in utter bafflement at what had happened, Aragorn turned to them.

"I have yet to introduce to you my dearest friend," he gestured at the elf beside him, "This is Legolas Thranduilion of the Woodland Realm."

Legolas had given a small frown at Aragorn's use of his father's name, but the hobbits were still processing the information for them to take notice.

The two friends then turned and walked towards the door. Meanwhile, the hobbits seemed to have got out of their reverie. It was Pippin who spoke first.

"Well, that was strange," he declared.

"I agree with you, Pip. That was strange indeed, though I hope we will get to know Legolas better during our stay in Rivendell," said Merry.

Little do they know, that in the very near future, they would have days, weeks – months even – to get to know the elf.

In one of the many balconies in the Last Homely House, the man and elf were happily enjoying each other's company. The man had his back to the railing, leaning backwards with arms behind propping himself up. The elf, however, gazed outwards into the peaceful, midnight sky; The silver light of the stars casting an etherical glow upon his face.

Aragorn tilted his head to look at the elf, "why did you not tell me that you arrived two days ago?"

Legolas turned his head away from the stars to look at his friend.

"It was not I. It was your Ada, he kept me busy by telling me to eat and rest due to my long journey here," then with a twinkle of his eyes, Legolas added, "and I do believe Lord Elrond intended to have some fun."

Aragorn stared back, "fun? Ada does not think of fun the same way we do."

The elf laughed, "oh Estel! I think you might find he does… secretly perhaps."

The mere thought of the Lord of Rivendell scheming such 'childish' things – as he liked to say – was just too much for the two friends to imagine, and they burst out in peals of laughter.

The End!'

Sindarin Translations

Ada - Father

Mae govannen - Well met

A/N: If you like this type of lighthearted LOTR oneshots, do check out a couple more that I had written previously! Don't forget to leave a little review, and thank you all in advance :)