Disclaimer: I don't own LotR or any of its components, so be nice, okay?  Just having a bit o' fun is all I'm doing.

Hmm…my inspiration comes at some of the oddest, most inconvenient times.  Take this one, for instance..I was in the shower, of all places.

Nevermind that.  This is, I hope, something a little different than usual.  It's a tidbit of something that could become an intriguing story, I think.  When you're done reading, I do hope you wouldn't mind giving me just a little bit more of your time to review?  Whether or not I continue depends on whether or not I have motivation, so do tell me if you like it (or if you don't ^^).

Just as a warning, while Leggy is obviously the protagonist of this story, it doesn't mean he's going to be a pleasant character (fun to write, though).  Also, if it weren't obvious, this is AU.

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Chapter One: A Day for Princes

Today was a day for getting situated, acquainted with the others who had arrived, and the inhabitants of this place; some had come before him, some this very day, as he had.  Some he already knew: the Man Aragorn son of Arathorn, the Ranger called Strider, whom the Elves sometimes called Estel; Bilbo Baggins, the kindly old Hobbit who had once carried the Ring of Power; Gandalf the Grey, the wise wizard the Elves knew as Mithrandir; Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Rivendell; Arwen his daughter, in love with the aforementioned Man.  Of these, only Arwen would not be present for the next day's proceedings, for which he was rather glad.  There were others who would be present, those with names unmentioned, and those he had never seen until today. 

         For what seemed like endless hours he danced the dance of courtesy, greeting old friends and wading through introductions to those he was unfamiliar with.  All manner had come to see what would be done, and perhaps to add something of their own.  Attendance ranged from Elves of Mirkwood to the Dwarves with whom they did not look kindly on (a feeling that was quite mutual), and many others in between.  Men, too, from realms such as that of Gondor.

         Today was merely a day for getting situated; tomorrow would be a day for history, a day that would be the beginning of the Council of Elrond.  A Council to decide the fate of the world, where dark tales and dim hopes for its continued existence would be told.  But not all stories would be recited, and not all secrets revealed.

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         Legolas stepped aside for the Lord Elrond with a courteous nod of his head, accompanied by a heartfelt smile and a sincere wish that the Elf-Lord of Imladris have a night of pleasant dreams, before entering the guest room that had been designated as his for the duration of the Council.

         Heaving a sigh of immense relief, he slumped with his back against the door as soon as it was closed and locked.  Legolas Greenleaf, archer and prince, was the youngest son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood's sons, and the favorite.  He was neither as flirtatious as his oldest brother, nor as irresponsible as the second.  He may have been third and last-born, but in everything else, he was first.  The surest aim, the swiftest foot, the sharpest mind.  Attractive even by Elven reckoning, a dutiful son, always thoughtful before speaking, never harsh in action or in word.

Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm was the perfect son.

What no one saw, however, was the cruelty hidden by gentle eyes, and the irony behind every cheerful smile.