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Thranduil's company entered the valley, and gaped at the sight. There were so many tribbles that Imladris literally looked like a pile of fur. After staring for a moment in complete astonishment, they entered.
Dismounting their horses, they began looking for survivors. All was disturbingly quiet. They walked up to a locked door.
"Elrond?" shouted Thranduil. "Glorfindel? Anyone?"
There was no answer. Thranduil was not about to wait for someone to open the door, so he kicked it in. However, as he did so, he dislodged the tribbles on the roof, which came pouring down.
"Look out!" shouted Legolas, attempting to dodge the avalanche. It was too late; they were allburied in an instant. The elves all lay there under the pile, groaning in despair. Thranduil popped out first, his twin blades swirling. Fur flew everywhere as he slew tribbles. Legolas and the others pulled out their own weapons.
"It's hopeless!" shouted Legolas. "There're too many of them!"
Thranduil paused in the slaying. "You are right; this will get us nowhere."
"I've got it!" shouted Legolas.
Thranduil slowly turned towards him. "What have you got?"
"Spiders!"
"Spiders? What about them?"
"If we brought some giant spiders here, they could eat all the tribbles!"
Thranduil did not look impressed. "That is one of the most foolish things I have ever heard" he said coolly. "It would be far more efficient to poison some food and then feed it to the tribbles."
"We could use Erestor's poison." said Legolas. "Doesn't he do experiments with Amanita mushrooms? I can go and see."
"You go with a few others and get the it." said Thranduil. "The rest of us will see if there are even any elves left here." He walked with difficulty through the tribbles, making his way further into Rivendell. Legolas and his party headed for Erestor's room.
Thranduil made his way to the Hall of Fire. He gasped in surprise at the sight. Several elves were sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Elrond and Glorfindel were side by side, mindlessly chopping at a pile of already dead tribbles. Something soft bounced off Thranduil's head, and some blood splattered on his face. He looked up, and saw that about every five seconds a dead tribble would fly out of the window of Erestor's workroom. And each one was cleanly speared through the middle. Thranduil ran up to Elrond and Glorfindel.
"Elrond!" he shouted, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. Elrond stopped chopping, and finally noticed Thranduil. "Thranduil!" he cried. "You came! Do you have any ideas for helping get rid of these things?"
"Legolas is seeing if Erestor has any poison." answered Thranduil. "We will poison some food and then feed it to them."
Elrond still looked rather dazed. "Yes, that is a good plan. I'm sure he has some." he said. "If we can find any food to poison."
Glorfindel had stopped his aimless chopping, and was examining the pile of blood and fur. "Elrond!" he exclaimed. "These tribbles are already dead! We have been trying to kill already dead ones!"
Elrond facepalmed. I must be going crazy, he thought. Suddenly they heard laughter. Erestor walked in, grinning. "That's impressive, Glorfindel!" he said. "The great Tribble-Slayer enjoys his job so much he can't stop, even when his prey is dead!"
Glorfindel did not look amused. "My name is not the Tribble-Slayer!" he shouted.
"Why not? You were slaying tribbles!"
"They were already dead!"
"They were dead because you killed them!" laughed Erestor. "Elrond and Glorfindel shall forever be known as the Great Tribble-Slayers!"
"Why, you..." growled Glorfindel, and tackled Erestor. Thranduil watched them in slight amusement. He glanced at Elrond, who did not seem surprised. They left the two elves rolling on the floor, and went outside. Elrond casually ran his sword through the piles of fur as he showed Thranduil the extent of the damage the tribbles had caused. Thranduil was starting to wonder what he was supposed to do now. He should probably find some food to poison. He turned to Elrond, who was still randomly running his sword through the furry piles with a maniacal grin on his face.
"Elrond?" he asked hesitantly.
"Die, fur! Death to all fur!" screamed Elrond, twirling his sword above his head.
"Elrond, don't you think..."
"DEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHH!" yelled Elrond, and ran into one of the piles, swinging his blade around like mad. Fur and blood splattered all over Thranduil, who ran after him.
"Elrond, are you sure this is wise?"
"Death to fur!"
"You already said that!"
"Death to fur!"
"Elrond..."
"What?"
"What are you doing?"
"Death to fur!"
Thranduil gave up. Elrond had obviously lost it. He sighed and left him to give death to the fur. He headed back to the Hall of Fire, were Glorfindel and Erestor had decided that they were both Tribble-Slayers, and that it was a great honor. Glorfindel was acting the same way as Elrond, madly slaying. Erestor sat on top of a mountain of tribbles and continued calmly impaling them on his pen. Thranduil watched them in dismay. Everyone seemed to be going mad. He walked up to Glorfindel and tapped him on the shoulder. Glorfindel spun around, sword ready, but barely stopped himself when he saw who it was.
"Glorfindel, are there any stores left?" asked Thranduil.
Glorfindel looked disgusted. "Nice time to have a snack!"
"It is not for that! If we are going to poison these things, we will need food to poison!"
"Food?" muttered Glorfindel incoherently.
"You know what food is."
"Food?"
Thranduil looked at him in horror. He was starting to act like Elrond. "Yes, food! Is there any left?"
"Food?"
Thranduil facepalmed. Glorfindel staggered back a few steps, then collapsed on a pile of tribbles.
To be continued...after I get a bunch of reviews.
