Eyo, folks! Sorry I haven't been around in a bit, I sort of went through a few things that kept me from feeling like writing for awhile. However, now it's summer, and I can actually do stuff! Woo! This chapter is for fireflyAshes and rinofmidnight, who wanted to see Legolas and Thranduil's reaction to the poem in the last chapter. The next chapter, which I hope to upload in the next few days, was another request, and will consist entirely of Aragorn-bashing. It's a bit darker than the others, but still contains some humour.

Also, I'm still working on the walk-through of the LotR movies, and hope to have them uploaded soon!

I hope you all enjoy, and don't forget to review!

Legolas did not consider himself to be an especially brash or unfair elf. He was known by many to be a fierce warrior, but also just, caring, and generally very forgiving and cheerful. However, everyone had a limit, and Legolas felt that he was more than justified in having reached his. "His vanity cannot be cured"? What did that mean? Oh, Legolas would be speaking with that ill-spoken, delusional, dim-witted human, make no mistakes.

Glancing up and taking in the twins' expressions, which had changed from eager and jovial to slightly concerned, Legolas grinned.

"And where, pray tell, is this mortal brother of yours?"

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a glance, obviously weighing the potential death of their brother against the wrath of their friend.

"In the bathing pools," the older twin finally revealed, hanging his head in shame.

As the prince nodded and walked briskly out the door, Elrohir smacked his counterpart.

"What in all Arda was that? Why would you hand him Estel's head on a platter?"

Elladan looked up imploringly, begging his twin to understand. "Legolas is absolutely terrifying."

XXX

"Oh, Aragorn."

The man froze, a bar of soap half-way to his face. That didn't sound good. For one thing, Legolas only called him by his name when something was wrong. For another, there was an elvish blade pressed against his throat. Yes, something was definitely not-exactly-right.

"Something I can help you with, gwador?" he asked carefully.

"Yes, I believe you can. What exactly did you mean by... 'vanity'?"

Legolas' voice was icily calm and very controlled. Oh, Estel was so very, very dead. Valar, what did he do to deserve this?

"I did not- I mean- it simply- I do not know. Legolas, I am so, so sorry. Please, do not kill me."

The elf was absolutely still, blade unwavering. Aragorn shut his eyes and wished for a quick and painless death. What he did not expect was a bucket of ice-cold water to be dumped on his head, made all the more excruciating in contrast to the warm waters of the pool. Letting out a very manly shriek, thank you very much, Aragorn dove forward, trying to gain some precious distance between him and the murderous elf.

"Please," he begged. "I'll do anything! Please, have mercy!"

And that was when Legolas dove into the pool after him, grabbing his head in an arm lock. Aragorn's shrill cry must have been heard all the way to Mordor, but the persistent elf showed no signs of forgiveness. As the man managed to pry himself free and bolt from the pool, he sent a prayer to the Valar to help him from this situation. Legolas was in hot pursuit, calling to the trees and asking them to lift their roots and trip him. Changing directions, Aragorn ran towards the clearing, where the prince could not use nature against him. Of course, as soon as he reached the grassy area, he was tackled from behind with a savage cry.

"You will surrender," Legolas announced, as he rubbed mud and dust through Aragorn's hair.

"Never," the man responded, lashing out and hitting Legolas in the face with a rotten apple or some such thing.

Reeling back, Legolas gave Aragorn the opening he needed. The man shoved backwards and, after quickly checking to make sure he had not actually hurt his friend, took off as fast as his legs would carry him. He could hear the elf coming up behind him, stealth abandoned in favour of speed. Suddenly, though, there were forms around him, and a familiar voice in his ear.

"Run, brother. We'll hold him off!"

"I am so, so sorry," Elladan added. "I swear I will be your slave for a week to make it up to you."

Shooting his brothers a dour glare, Aragorn put on a burst of speed and ignored the sounds of an outraged cry coming from behind him. A scuffle quickly followed, and then the sounds of loud cursing. The man chanced a look behind him, only to see two identical elves hanging from trees, with another gaining rapidly. Aragorn cried out in fear and continued the race for his life.

Lord Elrond of Imladris breathed a contented sigh as he stepped out onto the balcony, enjoying the light spring air. Of course, the illusion of peace was quickly and irrevocably shattered by the sight of his youngest son bursting through the tree line, dripping wet, covered in mud and leaves, and wearing only his pants. A green and gold blur quickly followed him, which was hunted, in turn, by two achingly familiar messes of twigs and dirt and what appeared to be tree sap. The elf lord looked on for a moment, then turned away, and closed the door firmly behind him. Not today.

XXX

The halls of King Thranduil were as great and impressive as their master, and always presented an air of intimidation towards any foe of the land. Which, as it happened, Legolas felt like as his father glared down at him.

"Really, henig," the King was saying. "I expected better from you."

"It's not as though this is the first time I have attempted to kill one of Lord Elrond's sons," Legolas defended himself grumpily. "Nor will it be the last."

"Honestly, Legolas, I thought that human was your friend!"

Legolas' head snapped up at this. "He is. Of course he is! Why in all of Arda would you think any different?"

Thranduil gave his son a long-suffering look, and brushed a hand down his face. "I will not pretend to understand what goes on in your mind, my son. Valar knows that no one could figure it out. However, I will ask to see this poem that has caused the heir to the throne of Greenwood to behave like a bumbling moron."

Legolas paled. "Father, you cannot mean-"

"Yes, I do mean. Now, give it here."

Bowing his head in a mixture of shame, mortification, and utter vexation, Legolas handed the scroll to his father. The King's face was painfully blank as he read the words. And read them again. And again. Finally, he looked up at his son's pleading eyes. The King burst out laughing.

He went on and on, and each time he tried to be serious the entire situation just got that much more hilarious. Legolas' face was only adding to his inability to form coherent sentences, and he looked absolutely livid.

"Oh," Thranduil finally gasped. "Oh, I think I love this boy. It is a shame that Elrond claimed him, or I would have adopted him into the family myself. This is absolutely wonderful. What is he, mad? How can anyone write like this and still be able to function?"

"You really think it's worth all that?" Legolas ground out, trying to remain respectful.

"Of course! These are the words of absolute truth."

"Be that as it may, how would you feel if your hair had been dyed green for a month, ada?"

Thranduil's smile vanished on the instant, and he cringed. "It matters not. Go and kill some spiders or something, and be sure to be back for supper. Oh, and Legolas?" The prince turned around, nearly having made his escape. "Be sure to hang this poem somewhere on the wall. In the war council's quarters, perhaps. I'm sure we could all use a good laugh in years to come."

Well, there you have it! I know this chapter's a bit shorter than the others, but I could only milk this so much. I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try to post a lot more in future! Bye for now!