Summary : Eldarion son of Aragorn is one rebellious teenager. He creates trouble for himself and, naturally, drags Legolas along with him. Need I say more?

Is it April yet? (She checks the calendar.) Right. It's 8th of April already. One month to go before the premiere of 'Kingdom of Heaven'!

Hello, everyone! Welcome back to Adromir's domain, the universe of utter madness. He he he! Am I late? I hope not. So here's the Eldarion's story that I've promised you. This fic will involve a tomb, a desert, a defiant teenager, and two clueless elven princes who have the opinion that fatherhood gives them mother of all headaches! LOL! We'll see how they survive this one.

Honestly, I'm not sure how long this fic would take, maybe more than a month because my office is going through several phases of renovation. There will be times when the server is shut down or that I can't even boot up my PC. This might not help me update as frequently as before. So hang on tight to that cliffies!

Did I say cliffies? Err…yes, I did, eh? Don't worry. I'll try to keep them at minimum in this one.

On second thought, (scoffs)…Yeah, right.

Szhismine, I feel so awful for leaving out your name in the faithful reviewers list for that last story! I thought I had jotted down all the names. So sorry, mellon. You have been supporting me for a very long time now and I could never forget you! To make it up to you, I dedicate this fic especially for you. Enjoy it, my dear.

NOTE : This is a post-LOTR, took place about five years after 'Triple Jeopardy'. (I haven't post the story on Keldarion's wedding yet, have I. I'll work on it, I promise.)

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One fine Spring morning, at the receiving terrace of the keep of Ithilien…

The tall, sandy-haired rider reined in his mount near the terrace stairs. He smoothly dismounted, gesturing for his five men-at-arms to do the same. The efficient servants rushed forward to look after the mounts as the men of Gondor waited for an audience with the lord of the keep.

"Lord Faramir." A tall elven warrior finally approached from the great door, smiling widely. "Welcome, my lord. Pardon us for the lack of pomp. We have not been expecting your arrival—and this early in the morning, to boot."

Faramir son of Denethor, the Prince of Ithilien, grinned in return as the two friends warmly clasped hands. "No pomp for me, Beregund, you know that. I have had enough of such things on my wedding day. That experience haunts me still."

Beregund laughed. He inclined his head towards the stairs. "Let me show you to the parlor, my lord. You must be in need of refreshments. And have no doubt; our people will look to your men's comfort also."

Still smiling, Faramir fell into step with the elf, only half aware that his escort was already being steered in another direction by the keep's servants. "Oh, I never doubt that. Every time I leave this place, I gain at least a stone under my girth! You feed us a serving fit for an oliphaunt!"

"We are more than willing to fatten you up, my lord. My lady said that you are much too skinny."

Faramir's eyes widened. He then chuckled. "I don't believe it. Lady Narasene said that?"

The elf's eyes twinkled. "Yes. Well, she says that to everyone in fact, mostly to her beloved husband, worried that he is too busy working that he forgets to eat."

"Speaking of which, where is your lord Legolas, anyway?" the man asked as they neared the parlor.

"He is in the inner courtyard, having his morning exercises." Legolas' second in command paused, his head cocked to one side. "Would you rather meet him there?"

Faramir's face brightened. There was nothing more spectacular than to see an elven warrior during a work out, especially this particular elf.

"Oh, absolutely, Beregund. I won't miss it for the world."

"That's good, my lord. But, just to let you know, he is not alone."

Smiling mischievously, Beregund led the way back towards the hallway they had come from. From there, they went up another flight of stairs, turned down another corridor and came to a small clearing in the middle of the keep. The sound of clashing blades was high in the air, as also the grunts and curses from the two sparring warriors.

Faramir's smile broadened as he caught sight of the dark-haired elf that was crossing blades with the golden-haired Ithilien lord. "Keldarion is here as well. When did he arrive?"

"Four nights ago, and in a very strange mood," Beregund answered. "Those two brothers are trying to vent out some frustrations, I gather."

Intrigued, Faramir's brows raised, almost reaching his hairline. "Oh? Is something wrong? What happened?"

Beregund shrugged, whispering, "It's too personal for me to say it, my lord. I will leave it to them to explain it all to you. I give you a hint, though. Their respective lady wives are not here in this keep at the moment."

This is getting more interesting, Faramir thought. "Where are they then?"

"In Eryn Lasgalen, under the protection of their esteemed father-in-law, Lord Thranduil."

Faramir gave a low whistle. "Wow, this surely sounds serious. What have those two done to their wives?"

Grinning slightly, Beregund replied, "Oh, they have done something indeed. But like I said, it's not my place to say it. I hope your presence can help them think rationally somewhat, though. All the servants have become too frightened to go near those two, so vile their tempers are."

"And what makes you think I can help in this situation?" The man grew anxious when Beregund made a move to leave him there with the blade-wielding elven brothers.

"You have a wife. You can understand what they are going through," came Beregund's quick respond as he swiftly walked away, as if making his escape. "Talk to them, my lord. They'll listen to you. But whatever you do, don't mention the word 'baby'."

"What?" Faramir was clearly flabbergasted at this.

"What in Arda is going on here?" Muttering to himself, he turned back to watch the two sons of Thranduil trying to tear each other's guts. To some people, the brothers truly looked like they were trying to kill each other. But, as he knew those two, Faramir could see that they had gone through this same routine a million times before. Stripped to their waist, each prince gracefully moved in sync with the other—lashing, parrying, jumping, swinging—without shedding even a drop of blood.

Keldarion was armed with a vicious looking sword, while his younger brother had twin daggers twirling in both hands. In fast lightning moves, Legolas jerked up his blades, aiming for Keldarion's lungs. The elder prince flipped backward, rolling with the blow, the sharp point of Legolas' daggers barely left a trail down his bare chest. Regaining his footing, Keldarion instantly swung his sword towards his brother's neck.

Muttering an oath, Legolas dived to the ground and rolled under the swiping long blade. He came up on his haunches and jerked up his daggers once more, this time aiming for Keldarion's most vulnerable anatomy.

That caused Keldarion to freeze instantly. He dropped his swinging arm and glared down at his brother.

"Not my groin, blast you!" he shouted. "Aim them anywhere but there!"

Legolas broke into a wide grin, also relaxing. He had expertly pulled back his weapons at the very last moment. "Why? You have the desire to sire some offspring after all?"

His eyes drawing to a slit, Keldarion stared hard at his brother. He threw down his sword to the ground, saying, "Do you want to know my favorite way to kill you, Legolas? With my bare hands!"

Keldarion already had his fingers wrapped around Legolas' throat, throttling him, when Faramir decided that it was the signal for him to intervene. "All right, you two. Break it off. This is getting far too nasty for my taste."

The two brothers froze and whirled around to gape at the man. Too immersed in their affair, they hadn't even realized that they had an audience.

"Where the heck did you come from?" Legolas blurted, slapping Keldarion's hands away.

"From a bedlam," Faramir answered as he walked towards them. Then he added in a much lower voice, "And landed into another bedlam."

"Huh?" The two brothers blinked back at him.

"Never mind." With a slight grin, the man shook his head. "So, what's really going on here? Trouble in paradise?"

Legolas glanced askance at his brother. "Yes. Sort of. Someone here has the…"

"Don't even say it," Keldarion warned, putting up a hand. "Not another word from you, Legolas."

"Why ever not?" Putting down his twin blades on a bench nearby, Legolas grabbed a towel and began to wipe the sweat that rolled down his chest and face. "Come on, Kel. It's time we discussed this. You need to deal with this issue. You have to accept that you can't run away from it any longer. It's no use dancing around and under it."

"What issue?" Faramir asked. He belatedly realized that the 'issue' must have something to do with the word 'baby' that Beregund had warned him about a short while ago.

"None of your business." Keldarion glared at Faramir, causing the man to squirm under the penetrating gaze of the elf's sharp blue eyes.

Hmm. Beregund was not joking when he said Keldarion is in a strange mood, Faramir mused. Wonder who got the stick shove up his…

"Pardon us for the lack of courtesy, Faramir, but what brings you here?" Legolas asked, cutting off the man's thought. He tossed the towel to his elder brother, along with a look that said, "Be nice."

Keldarion harrumphed in respond, but complied enough to shake the man's hand, saying, "And it is not even noon yet."

Faramir emitted a soft chuckle. "Sorry about that. But I left Minas Tirith only late last night after my monthly council with the king. I figured that I should drop some…uh…disturbing news on you before I head back to Emyn Arnen."

Legolas stood frowning, his interest piqued. "What disturbing news? Is something wrong with Aragorn? Or is it Arwen? Are they all right?"

"Err…not exactly," the man said with a grimace. Then he quickly added when he saw the look of alarm on the brothers' faces, "But it's not the way you think, though. The king and queen are perfectly well—in health, at least. It's just that they are feeling quite distraught right now."

"What do you mean?" Keldarion asked.

"Before I explain further, answer me this first. Is Prince Eldarion lodging here in this keep?"

The elves exchanged puzzled glances before turning back to the man, their eyes widening.

"Of course not," Legolas replied. "What gave you that idea?"

Faramir sighed, running a hand though his wind-blown hair. "I was really hoping that his highness was here, despite what he wrote on that note."

"What note?" Legolas' frown deepened. He grabbed the man's shoulders, shaking him like mad. "What the blazes is going on with Darion? Tell us!"

"Easy, brother. You're frightening the man out of his wits." Keldarion pulled Legolas away, staring hard at Faramir. "Start talking now or I'll let him throttle you to kingdom come."

Faramir snorted, slightly amused, as he straightened his tunic. He was far from frightened of Legolas or Keldarion, but more of his own wife. If Éowyn saw the wrinkles in his shirt, she would sermon him from night till dawn!

"Like I said, I just returned from Minas Tirith and I bring you some disturbing news."

"We know that part, now what else?"

"Prince Eldarion has gone missing."

TBC…

Have anyone seen the extended trailer of 'Kingdom of Heaven'? OMG! I have, more than fifty times, which left drooling every time I watched it! Orli is one HOT knight!