Prompt: "I'm moderately functional."
Rating: T (for mentions of drinking and alcohol)
Setting: The Woodland Realm. Pre-Friendship Amidst Loss; Pre- The Hobbit
Characters: Legolas, Crown Commander Aglardaer (OC)
Summary: When Legolas' intended day off drinking his favourite Dorwinion is interrupted for an important mission he is determined that he is sober enough for the task. Crown Commander Aglardaer is somewhat sceptical and a little mischievous.
"Are you sober?"
Legolas squinted up at the silver haired ellon that loomed over him – Crown Commander Aglardaer. "I'm moderately functional."
"I'll take that as a no." Aglardaer frowned down at him before he offered his hand as though to help Legolas up from where he lay comfortably in a sunbeam in amongst the leaf litter.
Legolas looked at the proffered hand askance – he had no intention of getting up and proving to Crown Commander Aglardaer how 'not sober' he truly was. Besides, it was one of his rare true, free days off – if he wanted to get royally trolleyed then he bloody well would. However, Aglardaer had other ideas it seemed, and he shook his hand at Legolas irritably.
"Are you getting up or not?"
Legolas gave a grimace, "I was not really planning on it, no. You are aware I have the day off right…from everything?" Legolas was having to work hard to keep his words from rolling into an unintelligible slur.
Aglardaer had the good grace to look shamed faced, "I know and truly I would not bother you were there anyone else with the skill set I need – but there are none. I have already summoned the rest of your troop and they are at the barracks getting ready as I speak."
Legolas groaned aloud. Why always him? Why always his troop? Was this the price one paid for being the best at what they did? Never being allowed a moment's rest or peace from said thing they were the best at?
"My troop are wearied – we came back only three days ago – there must be some others you can send. We are not the only highly skilled troop in the realm." Legolas knew he sounded angrier than he'd intended but he was fed up…and he was a bit drunk. Emotions were difficult to censor.
"I am sorry but as I said – I need the skill set of your troop in particular." Aglardaer's eyes were compassionate but his overall mien was stern and told Legolas he was not going to get to lay in the sun warmed leaves and moss and finish off his pilfered keg of Dorwinion.
Slowly Legolas levered himself up off his comfy nest and put a hand to his head to steady himself as the forest floor swam before him. He took a deep breath in then out to calm himself as much as to settle his stomach. He really was rather angry; it seemed he never ever got a day off anymore. Not only that, the task Aglardaer had in mind for them could only be something grim, awful and to do with the Evil One. It always was once someone mentioned how Legolas and his troop's skill set was best for the job at hand – they had a rather particular skill set after all – dealing death to all affiliated with the Enemy and foiling their schemes was what Legolas and his maethyr excelled at.
The blonde Prince ignored the still proffered hand up and instead dragged himself to stand before he turned and neatly threw up in a perfunctory manner behind a barbed shrub. He used the wine remaining in his glass to swill his mouth out before he gestured at his superior. "Lead on then and do tell what awful task you have in mind for us."
Aglardaer dropped his hand and sighed, "I am sorry Legolas – I do know it has been some time since you've had time off to yourself and I wish I could leave you be. Here – drink."
Legolas swayed a little unsteadily, took the proffered flask held out to him, opened it and gave a sniff. The strong robust aroma hit him almost instantly; it was their most popular remedy for perking up drunken warriors. A bitter bean found in the forest that was toasted in the sun, ground up, then the powder mixed with water to create a bitter brown liquid that allegedly helped with drunkenness. That claim was wildly debated throughout the realm but Legolas grimaced and took a swig nevertheless. He needed to sober up fast and every little helped – with him throwing up and choking down the bitter drink along with the fresh air he'd get during the walk back to the barracks the Prince hoped he'd feel a lot clearer headed than he did at present.
Legolas took another acrid mouthful of the drink and gestured again at the Crown Commander, "You still have yet to tell me what this oh-so-urgent task entails."
"Yes I was just coming to that…a new orc poison has been discovered by Calelon and his team of healers. The last troop on the Southern Patrol had to make a sharpish exit after a skirmish with a pack of yrch went ill and saw them with numerous injuries from poisoned orc blades; none of the usual antidotes carried with the troop worked and with their affected maethyr getting worse by the day they returned to the Stronghold and went straight to Calelon. However, nothing he nor his healers have done has proved of any effect, meaning this is a new poison the orcs have gotten their filthy hands on. Worse than that the afflicted warriors continue to worsen by the hour and we had our first casualty a mere half hour ago." A look of grief crossed Aglardaer's face, "Calelon expects the rest will follow him into Mandos if they cannot concoct a cure soon, but so far the healing team's efforts have been unsuccessful. Hence why we need your troop to head down there and bring us back some samples of this new poison."
Legolas had stared in horror as Aglardaer gave him the mission parameters. "How many maethyr are affected by this new poison?"
"Five in all and as I said…one has already fallen to it. Calelon is hoping to lose no more but it is currently an uphill battle. I know you and your troop are the best at this sort of thing hence my need for you."
Aglardaer canted an eyebrow at Legolas then as he stumbled over a small twig in their path as the pair made their way back to the Stronghold and the barracks within. "But…are you sure you are actually up to this task Legolas? I did not think you were this drunk to look at you. The last thing we need is anything happening to you. I can always send your troop out without you – Aithel your second can easily take command."
Legolas shook his head firmly, "Nay, I told you – I am moderately functional and getting better with every step. I am not that drunk, and I am going on this mission."
For it was a matter of life and death now and he was Prince – it fell upon him to protect his people as best he could. He could not sit out such a crucial mission now simply because he was a bit drunk. Aglardaer still had that look of dilemma about him though and Legolas fixed him with a glare.
"Look, you have already come and gotten me up – there is no way I can turn back and relax now knowing what I know. And I have taken charge of missions and patrols in a worse state than this when under the influence of spider poison, fever and delirium. I will finish this," Legolas gestured to the flask of bitter drink he still held, "and dunk my head under cold water when we get back to barracks. I'll be fine."
Still Aglardaer shook his head dismayed, "Would that we had more warriors of your calibre easily to hand. Would that the Evil One and his minions did not plague our lands so heavily." The silver haired ellon sighed deeply, "Every night I pray to Elbereth, Yavanna and Eru that they would lend their aide to our cause and lessen the load put upon you and all our maethyr in trying to keep this land safe – yet it seems that each new dawn brings with it more trouble."
Legolas frowned slightly – it was unusual to hear the usually jovial Crown Commander so down and out about anything – he typically faced even the direst of battles with indomitable cheer.
The Prince clumsily threw his arms round the shoulders of the ellon he considered as good as an uncle and put on the most unaffected voice he could manage, "This too shall pass Aglardaer; all things whether good or bad must come to an end sooner or later. And until these bad things end worry not, the Woodland Army and all your maethyr are equal to the task and will give their all. We will bring you back this new poison not to mention slay a good couple orcs in the process and then Calelon and his team will make the antidote, and all will be well again. You are not in this fight alone nor do you pray alone. Sooner or later the Valar will have to bow to the pressure of prayers of so many. It will be well."
Of course, it may well not be – things could yet get worse – more or indeed all of the afflicted warriors could die in the time it took Legolas and his troop to make it down to the southernmost part of the Wood and track down and gain samples of the new poison. Anything at all could happen – any number of bad things. But they had to hold to hope – any number of good things could happen too. They had to keep the faith.
"Yes – you are right of course," Aglardaer threw his own arms round Legolas and gave him a quick smile. "Your troop is well capable – I know you will succeed in this mission. Now come – quicken the pace if you can – I want you all to leave within the hour, time is of the essence." The Commander wrinkled his nose then, "Valar Legolas, I am surprised you managed to put such an eloquent little speech together – you smell like a brewery."
Legolas gave a huffed a laugh deliberately wafting more of his alcoholic breath into Aglardaer's face, "I told you – I'm not nearly as drunk as you're making me out to be – I'm moderately functional."
Aglardaer said nothing to that, simply quick-stepped away from under Legolas' arms and the Prince suddenly found himself in a heap upon the ground.
Aglardaer snorted a laugh before he offered the Prince a helping hand up, "I'm sorry penneth. Truly. I just couldn't help myself."
The older ellon sniggered some more when Legolas gave a haughty sniff, once again ignored the offer of help to stand and stalked off purposefully ahead.
"Oh, don't pout Las – I just wanted to see how 'functional' you truly were…come on… it was funny."
Legolas ignored the Commander as he continued to stride ahead of him and his mirthful mocking.
The Elven system was a wonder – in less than an hour's time he'd be completely sober – long before he and his troop got anywhere near their intended destination. And in the meantime, he was moderately functional dammit!
END.
Ellon – Male elf
Maethyr – (plural) Warriors
Yrch – (Plural of Orch) – Sindarin for Orcs
Penneth – Young One
A/N: A little self-indulgent piece to celebrate my birthday :) Do drop me a line and let me know what you think – KimicT