For my lovely guest reviewer: Here it is, just like you asked for . . .it is as if you read my mind!
How Legolas managed to stumble in to the Fellowship.
Things had really improved since he had come clean, Legolas thought. Funny how Mithrandir had been right about that. No more having to hide from Aragorn, no more Elrond forcing him to stay indoors, no more Elrohir babbling on about bullying dwarves . . . Everything was so much better.
So it was a surprise when he received a summons to Elrond's study. Whatever it was he hoped it wouldn't take long. He had arranged a lovely interlude with Elrohir when he returned from his patrol and he did not want to miss it.
Legolas was even more surprised when he turned up to find Elrond and Mithrandir there. What was this?
"Where have you been, Legolas?" Elrond was straight on the attack. We have been waiting forever for you. We are not on Mirkwood time here!"
"The Greenwood."
"What?" Elrond leaned forward across his desk towards him with a frown.
"We are not on The Greenwood time here. " Legolas hated that name they called his home and Elrond knew it. Was he winding him up on purpose? "Anyway," Legolas continued haughtily because two could play at that game, "The summons directed me to your study and I did not know where that was any more. Last I knew this was Mithrander's study!"
"You know very well this is my study, Legolas," Elrond sighed and he gave Mithrandir a long hard look, "Are you sure about this, Mithrandir?"
"Sure about what?" Suddenly Legolas had a bad bad feeling about this.
"We've called you here to talk about the Fellowship of the Ring, Legolas." Elrond said.
"The what?" Legolas often felt he had no clue what Elrond was talking about and this was one of those times.
"The Fellowship of the Ring. Those taking the One Ring to Mordor." Elrond started to speak very slowly as if he were an imbecile. Why did he do that? Legolas thought to himself. It only agitated whoever he was talking to.
"That's a rather overly-dramatic name for one hobbit isn't it?" Legolas was sure it was that small hobbit fellow they had settled on to go there. "He's hardly a fellowship. Can't you just call him by his name?"
"It's not just Frodo going, Legolas," Mithrandir chimed in with a frown. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"I'm sure that's what you decided at the council. I'm sure I heard you say that—" Legolas so did not want to admit he had only heard maybe a third of what went on there.
"As if we would send a hobbit on his own, Legolas Thranduilion!" Mithrandir gave him one of his disapproving stares. "How stupid do you think we are? Aragorn is going."
"Aragorn!" Suddenly Legolas was on his feet with a gasp. "Are you mad? It is certain death striding in to Mordor with the ring Sauron really, really, wants. Why are you sending Aragorn? He is Isildur's Heir. Don't you need him to stick around? Of all people isn't he one you should be trying to keep alive? Instead you send him to Mordor with only a hobbit for company, it's insane!"
"With four hobbits for company Legolas. I have told you before to cut out the overdramatics." Mithrander waggled his finger at him but Legolas took no notice.
"Oh, four hobbits, well that's all right then, if he's going with four hobbits," he bit back sarcastically.
"And Boromir." Elrond chimed back in but it was very unhelpful.
"And who's he when he's at home?" Legolas was sure he hadn't heard of a Boromir before.
"Boromir," Elrond gave another mighty sigh, "the representative from Minas Tirith. He was at the council. You could not have missed him."
"Oh," Legolas' horror at this ridiculous proposal grew worse and worse, "You mean that Man who looked as if he would be quite happy putting a knife in Aragorn's back. That Boromir? Excuse me if I am not reassured by that. Is there any other hugely inappropriate person you have chosen to send?"
"Gimli is going," Mithrandir said cheerfully as if the knowledge Boromir was most probably planning regicide did not bother him at all. "One of the dwarves. His father was one of those your father imprisioned, lovely boy he is."
"A Dwarf? No not just a Dwarf, someone related to those dwarves who could not even find their way across our forest. Could you possibly have picked a worse combination of people to send Aragorn with? This Dwarf will most likely get lost before he even leaves Imladris!"
"You exaggerate, Legolas, sit down." Mithrandir remained unmoved. "Anyway, putting all that aside we have called you here because we need to discuss the elven member of the fellowship."
"The Elven member?" At least they were sending an elf, Legolas thought and hopefully someone impressive to make up for the shortcomings of all the rest. "Glorfindel?" He guessed at the most impressive elf he knew aside from his father. They definitely wouldn't send his father!
"Not Glorfindel." Elrond singlehandedly crushed all his hopes. "He is too powerful. The ring would corrupt him."
And then the penny dropped. Legolas felt his throat constrict in horror.
"You are sending Elrohir!" That had to be it. They were sending his love on a futile suicidal trip into Mordor with a bunch of hobbits and Aragorn and they had called him here to break the news. Suddenly it was as if he could not breathe." You are sending Elrohir into the very pits of Mordor!" He cried. "Is this some kind of punishment because I lost the creature?"
He wouldn't put it past them. Oh, they had pretended to be so reasonable and mature about that but all along they had planned this to get their revenge—the fact Elrohir was Elrond's son eluded him in the stress of the moment.
"Legolas, calm down!" Mithrander's rebuke hit him as if it was a slap across the face. "We are not sending Elrohir, and this is not a punishment for Gollum. That is over and done with, I have told you that."
"Elladan?" Legolas gasped. That would not be so bad. He could do without Elladan. But then Elrohir would be distraught and he would have to deal with all that . . . No, he didn't want it to be Elladan.
"Not Elladan," Mithrandir put him out of his misery, "Would you listen to me Legolas!"
"Erestor then?" Legolas was fast running out of suggestions. It was surely not going to be Erestor but then who else was there?
"Don't be ridiculous, child. Erestor is a scribe. Why ever would we send him?"
"Why ever would you send four hobbits?" Legolas replied.
"Yes, well, the hobbits wangled their way in there. They were unexpected and not entirely our fault; No, the elf we want to send is you."
"Me?" Legolas thought he must have misheard . . Or at least misunderstood, although it seemed a simple sentence on the face of it.
"Did you say you wish to send me?" He repeated himself just to be absolutely sure.
"You, Legolas."
Legolas' first reaction was a burst of excitement. Him! Chosen for a highly important dangerous mission, above all the Imladris elves. And then self preservation took control.
Pay attention to that second word, Legolas, his inner voice whispered, dangerous, this is dangerous.
"Wait!" He said, "Why me? Why are you choosing me? Because you dont want to send any Imladris elves on this fools errand with overly aggressive men, directionally challenged dwarves and random small people who aren't even meant to be there?"
"Because you are best suited Legolas," Mithrandir replied. "This is an honour, you foolish boy. And I will be going too."
Ah, Legolas thought. Mithrandir going did increase the odds somewhat. . . But still . . .
"Excuse me for saying, Mithrandir but you are not the most reliable travelling companion. You do have a tendency to disappear when most needed. What guarantee is there you will stick around?"
The look on the Wizards face made him instantly regret he had pointed that out.
"Fine," Mithrandir snapped at him."Turn down this honour we do the wood. Honestly, there is no helping you wood-elves. Chosen above all others and you still aren't happy."
Well if they put it like that, Legolas thought, he really did have to accept. It was an honour. But then his thoughts led him towards his father and that was not pleasant.
"Have you asked my father about this?"
"No we have not!" Mithrandir's reply was a fast as lightening and beside him Elrond gasped.
"He's right Mithrandir, we haven't asked Thranduil! He will never agree to this."
"Leave Thranduil to me," the wizard waved his hand in the air dismissively but Elrond was having none of it.
"Leave him to you? You are about to depart with the Fellowship. You will not be here to deal with him when he comes rampaging down, demanding to know what I have done with his son!" Legolas was pleased to see Elrond looked terrified at the thought.
"He will not come all the way to Imladris, Elrond. Pull yourself together. The most you will get is a sternly worded, slightly threatening letter. I have no idea why you remain so terrified of Thranduil. He really is a pussycat if you speak to him nicely."
Legolas was not entirely sure he liked that description of his father, yes he was quite easy to manipulate if you knew how . . . And as his son Legolas knew all the ways to do that, but he didn't want the wizard putting that idea about the general populous. That wouldn't do at all.
"Now look here," he said, "Its all very well you offering me this honour but I have people who rely on me, we are fighting a war in the Wood. I cannot just walk away and leave them, just because you need someone sensible to accompany Aragorn."
"I will offer you the same deal I offered Gimli then, Legolas," the wizard said. "Travel as far as Lothlorien. If, by then, you feel your people's need is the greater you can return home and you will not be forsworn."
Now that made things completely different, Legolas thought. Lothlorien was nothing like Mordor. It was positively safe in comparison. A walk in the park. Even his father could not complain about a small side trip to Lothlorien and he could see about getting Aragorn a proper elven escort when he got there, an escort of Lothlorien elves since Elrond seemed to have lost his marbles. Why on earth he thought a homocidal looking Gondorian, a dwarf who's ancestors got themselves lost walking on a path through the wood, a very unreliable wizard, and four small people with no shoes were enough to protect the potential King of Men Legolas did not know.
"Very well," he found himself saying, even though his internal voice was nagging him to be sensible as it always did—he was expert at ignoring it— "I will accept your offer, Mithrandir. As far as Lothlorien it is. I will reassess things then."
It was only when he left the room the glow of being especially chosen faded and he realised;
Now somehow he had to tell Elrohir.