A/N - Dedicated to the gals to whom it happened, and to the rest of them who encouraged me to write it.
Part One
I unstrung my bow and pondered sneaking away from the archery range. I'd done it hundreds of times. The point wasn't to defy anyone, or to escape my duties, or anything like that. Mostly it was a long standing game between me and the sentries. I would try to sneak past, and they would try to catch me. I said it kept them on their toes. They said it kept me from getting too uppity.
Anyway, it had become something of a habit. So after some consideration I decided it was one of those days. I knew a friend of mine was keeping watch at one particular sentry post, and it had been a while since I'd seen him. My afternoon was relatively free. There was enough of a breeze above the treetops that sunbeams leapt down happily and danced on the forest floor. The world was alive, and I was alive, and I felt it keenly.
I slipped from tree to tree, easy as a sigh, quieter than a shadow. A solitary bird sent a musical call through the branches, waited a moment, then repeated it. A squirrel chattered in a tree nearby, and I smiled at the little black creature dancing and jumping head downwards, his tiny claws gripping the bark with the nonchalance of a wild animal.
My smile faded as his tiny claws snagged a walnut and hurled it in my direction. A sudden move might tip off the sentry, so I leaned out of the way as gently as I could. My eyes crossed for a moment as I followed its flight, coming within an inch of my nose. I uncrossed them to glare at the squirrel. I followed a shadow from one tree to another past him and waited for the right moment.
It took all my training to keep from jumping when a walnut bounced off my back, right between my shoulder blades. I think my eyes crossed again as I struggled not to react, not even to take a quick breath. I looked up at the sentry, only a few yards away, and as he turned away I dared another glare over my shoulder at the squirrel. I mouthed a request in Elvish. Please stop that!
The squirrel chattered and hurled another nut in my direction. I slipped to the other side of the tree, but if the sentry was to look my way I was done, finished, caught. I dared a step forward, and made it behind another tree before he turned back. I exhaled silently into the bark, and then another walnut hit me, this time in the leg. It stung, and I smothered a yelp. I sent a forceful glare in the squirrel's direction. I mean it now, I breathed, stop it.
The squirrel chattered. He ran around the trunk of the tree and back again, scolding and chittering. Very slowly I turned so my back was to the tree, and managed, with a little lean to the left, to catch the next walnut he threw. I watched the sentry until he turned away again, then hurled the nut at the squirrel.
If he'd been half a second slower, he would probably have fallen to the forest floor, stunned. However, he was too quick for me and dodged. He scolded me for this as well, and here came another missile. I moved a hand just in time to catch it, and then, hoping he'd think I was boring, I turned back to the sentry post and determined to ignore him.
The squirrel chittered, scolded, chattered, and threw. Some missed. Some hit, but I tried not to react. I got farther and farther from the squirrel's tree, but something about me must have irked him, because he followed me. He would run along the branches, chattering, throw a nut, chitter more, then bound back to his tree for another walnut. I dared not hurry to the sentry post. My appreciation of the beautiful day in the forest was steadily falling, and I began to set my teeth.
Up to and past the sentry post! There was no specified depth of forest I had to reach to 'win', but I had made a new limit for myself: however far it took for that squirrel to stop throwing nuts at me. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
I got deep enough in the forest that I could no longer see the sentry post. I breathed easier, stepped out from behind my tree -- Thwack!
The final indignity. The drop of wine that burst the wineskin. The drop of water that shattered the stone. The breath of air that knocked over the stone, that started the landslide, that buried the horse, that carried the Elf -- The squirrel had somehow sneaked around behind me and had hurled his walnut (his last walnut) at that region of my anatomy upon which I was accustomed to sit. I have no doubt that his aim was impeccable. But it also spelled his demise.
I pulled an arrow, aimed, and -- he ducked my arrow, chattered, and ran for his life.
I came very close to snapping my bow over my knee. Thankfully I came to my senses and merely ground my teeth at him. A few trees away, he paused, peeked out, chittered at me, flipped his tail, and threw another walnut. It came far short of his mark, but I went and picked it up. He watched me warily a moment, and then dove behind his tree when I hurled it at him with all the power in my arm.
I dropped to the forest floor, rummaged in the leaves, picked up more walnuts. I began to take ground back, aiming carefully. I didn't actually want to hit him: what stung for me might break his bones. Rather, I aimed to just miss him, startle him, scare him, keep him running, make him feel the strong emotions he had called up in me --
"Ha, Prince Legolas, you didn't sneak by me this time!"
I was too busy to correct him.
Part Two
Far below, I could see Legolas in the garden, talking with Ada. If I had a pebble, I thought, and dropped it from this height, how big of a dent would it make in the lawn? I thought of Ada's face, smiled, and let the branches swing back into their places. No, the gardeners had enough to do without filling in holes in the lawn. I stepped up from the ledge onto the shelf almost straight up from Rivendell. I was taking a long walk to enjoy the sunshine and occasional gusts of wind that kept it from being too hot.
As I walked, I saw a familiar copse of mature oak trees which I had often explored. On a whim, I ducked underneath the cool branches and heard the dry crackle of leaves underfoot and the slippery crunch of acorns. I stopped beneath the biggest oak in the bunch and sat down amid its roots, leaned back against the trunk, and closed my eyes. Thwack!
Thunk.
Swish.
... a squirrel? He was a big, fat, gray, ugly creature, flipping his tail at me and scolding. Whiz! Another acorn, and still another he sent in my direction. I stood up, intending to move. Another acorn flew through the air and struck me right between the eyes.
I blinked in surprise, shook my head to clear the slight buzzing. I narrowed my eyes at the squirrel, who chattered and scolded.
Then I pulled out an arrow and nailed him to the tree. Squirrel for supper!
--
When I brought him down to the house (along with a few of his relatives) and explained what had happened, Legolas stared between me and them with some strange expression on his face. When I asked if something was wrong, he made a face that confirmed my suspicion, but despite pleading, never did tell us why ...
... and ate the squirrels with something akin to grim satisfaction.