Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively. This is an amateur attempt. One which I am not making any profit over.
(What did everyone think of Deathly Hallows?)
A/N: Thank you to those who took the time to review. Again, not really a drabble as much as a one shot.
Hope you enjoy this one!
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Number Seven: A House Elf's Prerogative
The needle glinted small and orange in the dim light of the fire, encased in elegant fingers that did just as well holding a large weapon — the boon of Elvish gracefulness at work.
"Is Master needing anything else?"
Legolas grimaced, but continued to repair the small hole in his tunic. "No, no thank you, Winky, you have done more than enough."
"You is a good Master. Winky is liking you very much, but Winky wishes Master would let her do something."
Across the fire, Aragorn coughed.
The blonde elf glared at him, resenting the small betrayal. Aragorn lifted his palms in surrender and looked away, pretending to smoke his pipe.
Legolas sighed.
Three days!
It had only been three days since he had rescued the little . . . he dared not think "elf" for the ugly creature did not bare even the slightest resemblance to his kind, even though she proclaimed herself — most vehemently — as much. He could only think that Winky had somehow fallen afoul of another as yet unknown Ring, which was worrisome enough. Or if not that, than The One Ring itself, but that was about as likely as Frodo and Sam turning up in Fangorn Forest.
Legolas had never been thus worshiped, and it made him most uncomfortable. Indeed, so much so that he had taken to climbing the ever-angry trees just to escape Winky, who would somehow find him anyway, materialising on his branch with a small popping noise and inquiring in that squeaky voice if he "is needing anything?"
The first time this occurred, Legolas had fallen off of the branch. That had been shocking enough, but when he had suddenly found himself stopping in mid-air . . . well, he did not like to dwell much on that adventure. The discovery that Winky was magical, indeed, even more so than dear Gandalf, had him and his companions in a thoughtful trance for the rest of that day and much of the next.
It was obvious to all, even Gimli, that Winky did not intend them any harm. It was only that . . .
"Master, what do you wants Winky to be doing now?"
Legolas glanced down at those enormous, imploring — worshipful — eyes, and sighed. "Nothing, Winky. I have told you: I need nothing. You need not do anything that I cannot do myself, and willingly."
Those eyes filled with tears. "You is not needing Winky. Winky is not doing her work as she should. Winky is a bad elf!" Then the little body darted to the fire and stuck in those spindly hands before Legolas could even blink.
A high-pitched howl that struck through Legolas's soul sounded throughout the stillness of Fangorn, waking Gimli and horrifying Aragorn.
"Ai, Winky!" Legolas scooped up the sobbing creature and carried her to where the mud was cool at the banks of a small streamlet, dimly registering his friends' following footsteps. "What have I told you about punishing yourself?"
"You is, you is telling —" the creature was hiccuping continuously into his tunic now "— you is telling Winky not to be doing that."
"Yes, I is telli —" Legolas drew a deep, but patient, breath. "Yes, I did tell you that. Do you know why?"
Winky shook her head, wincing as the cooling paste of the mud was spread onto her hands. "No Master, but Winky would very much like to know."
Legolas knew Winky was not being deliberately obtuse, that she just did not know any better, but it was difficult to maintain patience in the face of such behaviour. "I do not wish for you to hurt yourself, that is why."
Winky stared at him.
She was still staring at him as he carried her to his pallet in front of the fire and wrapped her burnt flesh with the very tunic he had been repairing that night — which he had torn and soaked in the Athelas plant — then he tucked in the creature and bid her to sleep before finding a comfortable tree branch to spend the night in.
He did not think about feeding her, for it was no use, and Winky would not — could not — accept such courtesy.
Legolas stared up at the canopy wondering, not for the first time, just how much his life had veered since he strode the road from Mirkwood to Rivendell. He had certainly never expected to be involved in a quest to destroy a Dark Lord, or have a so-called "house-elf" as a slave.
Pop!
Legolas spoke without turning. "I bid you rest, Winky. What are you doing here?"
A slight shuffling noise accompanied by an occasional whimper reached him before Winky deigned to speak. "Winky is sorry, but she does not understand."
"What don't you understand, Winky?"
"You was not behaving as you should. You was Winky's Master. You was rescuing Winky and you was performing magic on Winky, and you was Winky's Master, but you was not acting like Winky's Master."
Legolas understood nothing but, "Was?"
"You gives Winky clothes. You gives Winky your shirt. You is not Winky's Master anymore."
Legolas looked across the branch, Elven eyes spotting her where Men's would not have, disguised and small as she was by the trunk of the tree. "You mean to tell me that you shall not follow me anymore?"
The creature nodded, large ears flopping almost comically against her bald head. "Yes. But Winky still wants to understand why you is giving her clothes."
"I did not know it would release you."
She was sobbing now, tears rolling down her little leathery cheeks and spattering onto the branch. "Winky is a bad, bad elf. Winky is a disgraced elf! You was being Winky's second Master, and you gives Winky clothes, and now Winky does not know what to do!"
She was crying loudly now, her little throat gasping for air, her enormous eyes barely seen through the glaze of tears.
"Winky," said Legolas gently, laying a hand on the small shoulder. Green eyes peeked up at him. "You may still stay with me. With us. You will always be welcome, never think otherwise. It is obvious you have no home."
Winky nodded. "Yes, sir, Hogwarts is very far away. Winky does not know how she is apparating here. But Winky is sometimes thinking that the trees reminds her of the Whomping Willow."
"Would you like to have a little food, then?"
Winky looked down. "Winky likes that."
Legolas smiled; the final proof was at hand. "Then you shall have some. Come with me."
He held out his hand. Winky put her poor, tender flesh into it. His little unwanted slave had finally become his very much wanted companion.
After befriending a dwarf, a house elf was going to be little bother.
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