Much Ado About Matching
By Windy McDohl
Disclaimer: Belongs to Sir Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. I own the fanfiction, though… (^^;)
Warning: Contains slash! But if you treat this as a joke, it'll be fine, right?
Note: It follows mainly the books. But I'm changing some stuff here and there, and all, since uh, the movie cannon… I don't like tall, gigantic Elronds. I don't like tall, gigantic Legolas either… (^^;) None of us do, right?
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Part Two - Love Letters
King Thranduil sat sorting out his letters, frowning now and then when he caught messages addressed to his sons, perfumed and fancily written. He did not like this sort of products. A waste of time, he calls them. As much as he calls Christmas 'humbug'.
But here now, today, was something different. Why, it was a letter from Rivendell! And… wonderfully scented? The elven king's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He picked it up, and recognized the writing as that of Lord Elrond's. Yet, why was Elrond, who had hardly spoken but few words with him, sending him such a letter?
Kind Thranduil's heartbeat started to increase. He vividly remembered the days past, when the War of the Ring was still waged. His father, the great Oropher, had declined to join the alliance and fight the cruel war many times, but finally did - and died for it. It was because of that half-elf! Thranduil remembered his father's speech when they were in private, how foolish he was to accept the offer just for the sake of humoring one so fair as the Lord of Imladris.
Ah, those were the days! Before Thranduil had chanced to meet Elrond, already his father had, a few days ere then, told him about that half-elf and raised hope of his son in their meeting.
"He is very fair in countenance," Oropher had said to Thranduil; "His dark hair unlike ours, the elves of the wood. He hardly wears any jewelry, as is accustomed to us elves, for we are fond of such things, but still he looks like a gem; when he smiles, it looks like heaven!"
At that point of time, Thranduil had merely shrugged it off, thinking that old age had finally gotten the better of his father. But now, faced with the situation of this… this sort…
Thranduil gingerly pried open the red-tinted paper envelope, and the scent of lavender and roses, mixed to perfection, wafted past his nostrils. He stared at the carefully penned down writing, and his heart skipped a beat as he read the contents slowly.
"Oh, gold the sun, the good sweet sun! Like the hair the flaxen rays are!
Your eyes the sky blue and free ~ mixed with a shade of robin's egg and amethyst!
I have seen your beauty; come to me!
For I cannot but dream from afar…
Not when we're realms apart, shrouded by mist!
I have said all in my verses penned above. I wish to behold you yet again, o child of the sun! My infatuation for you is deep, and you need only come to turn that into love, my sweet!"
He sucked in a deep breath, and clutched his head in his hands, his thoughts swimming. He remembered the last time he had beheld the elf-lord… and the more he remembered it, the more guilt he felt. They both had wives, though his had passed away, Celebrian was alive and well, west of the sea.
But then, if Elrond had… admitted to such idle fancies, why should he reject it? Celebrian would not mind it the least, would she? Would Celeborn, or Galadriel deny him his love? Love?
Was Thranduil in love with this foreign elf?
Thranduil set his jaw firmly. He wrote a swift but passionate reply to the letter he had received, and was determined to send only the best messenger to the wonderful realm across - Legolas.
_________________________
"Oh, look! Is that Prince Legolas?"
Elladan and Elrohir both leaned over the frail balcony to observe the younger elf from above. Legolas was very much a vision of beauty, but he had flaxen hair and golden features, unlike the elegant and silky fine ones of their father.
"It seems so," Elrohir answered his brother. He grinned. "He has come, as we had requested in the letter… And our father seems to have received a letter from Mirkwood!"
"I wish we had not set them up," Elladan said wistfully. "I feel bad… I mean; father doesn't even know Legolas! How could he say that he had loved Legolas so long before?"
"Pedophilia?" Elrohir grinned evilly. Elladan countered his brother with a punch on his shoulder.
"Your twisted, perverted thoughts! I'm shocked that I'm even related to you, dear brother!"
"As am I," Elrohir grinned easily. "You're too angelic."
Elladan snorted, very much like Glorfindel's. Elrohir laughed. "You sound like Glorfindel!"
"Indeed."
Legolas stared at the dreamlike beauty of Rivendell. He looked around for escorts, and was helped willingly by Glorfindel, who was trying hard to suppress his evil grin.
"I shall escort you to your room," he said; "Come with me, your Highness, and have a rest first. Our lord will tend to you shortly."
Legolas followed Glorfindel, glancing around to catch a glimpse of the Lord of Imladris. His eyes fell upon a figure standing by a balcony, speaking to another elf. Legolas' breath caught in his throat.
The elf was dark haired, a serene beauty. From afar Legolas could see his smile, but the color of his eyes he could not determine. He was robed in white and silver, as was his custom, and on his forehead was a thinly lined and delicate circlet, a star weaved in the middle.
The elf caught his gaze, and beamed at him. The wood-elf nearly fainted.
Legolas walked on, craning his neck to continue relishing his gaze, and all a sudden he walked right into a pillar. He gave an exclamation, as he tumbled down. From above, Elladan and Elrohir howled with laughter.
"He's smitten," Elladan grinned. Elrohir nodded.
"Isn't he beautiful? I saw our father smiling at him… I could almost see the admiration in his eyes."
"You have a wild imagination, my dear brother," Elladan shook his head smilingly. "Come - we must help Glorfindel. Otherwise he will rail at us again."
But Glorfindel was merely too happy to see them, forgetting to frown at them for not helping him out earlier. The twins smiled at one another, and nodded at Legolas.
"Welcome," Elladan began.
"To Imladris…" Elrohir continued, "otherwise known as Rivendell."
"We humbly extend our hospitality to you, and hope that you will enjoy your gay - uh, stay here," Elladan grinned. Legolas nodded slightly, still dazed by his fall and by the sight of the strange elf.
"Thank you," he managed weakly, staring around him. "I would like to explore your home a little, with your leave."
Glorfindel grinned. He knew what Legolas meant by 'exploring'. He had given that excuse before too, in order to court in his youth. But aloud he said, "Lord Elrond is awaiting your presence. You may explore a little after your meeting, but I do believe that you would not wish that after the event."
Legolas was confused, but he managed to nod and smile. "Very well then, please take me to see your Lord."
"Here we are," Glorfindel stopped at the door, accompanied by Elrond's two curious sons. They were a bubbly lot, and Legolas felt himself enjoying their company. The twins often bickered, but it was all mere jest and good humor on their part.
Legolas stepped into the room, clutching on to the message he had brought. The three stayed behind, and started a conversation about the sky and its fine weather.
Legolas peered around, his keen sight drinking all that was in the room. It was a large library of books, old and new, some as ancient as the mountains itself. His ears picked up a soft humming coming from the end of the room, and he craned his neck to see whom it was.
The figure stood with his back facing Legolas. Black, silky hair cascaded down his shoulders as he bent over a map, humming softly. He was clad in white and silver, his skin glowing as fine as the silk he had on himself.
He seemed to have heard the sound of Elvish breathing, and turned around to face Legolas. The wood-elf goggled at the sight of Lord Elrond.
"You…!"
"Me?" The Lord of Imladris lifted his brows at Legolas. He noted the message in Legolas' hands, and looked up again, into Legolas' eyes. They were a clear gray, in contrast to Legolas' green-blue ones. The wood-elf stared at him in admiration, before blushing and turning away.
"I… I have brought a letter from the King of Mirkwood."
"I can see that," the elf-lord's tone was soothing, and Legolas relaxed, handling Elrond the message. He then looked around, trying to occupy his mind with anything other than the half-elf that stood in front of him.
Legolas noted how different this elf was from the others - he had unusually dark hair and nearly humanlike features, though he truly was magnificent to behold. He was a little shorter than the elves he had met outside, in fact, petite compared to his father. Legolas was a little taller than Elrond, and he stared down at him as he stood reading the letter.
Elrond had paled out. He glanced nervously at Legolas, and back at the letter again.
"Has the King really sent me this through you? Did he deliver it himself?"
"Yes…" Legolas looked worried. "Why?"
Elrond did not answer. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, unconscious.
_________________________
To Be Continued…
_________________________
By Windy McDohl
Disclaimer: Belongs to Sir Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. I own the fanfiction, though… (^^;)
Warning: Contains slash! But if you treat this as a joke, it'll be fine, right?
Note: It follows mainly the books. But I'm changing some stuff here and there, and all, since uh, the movie cannon… I don't like tall, gigantic Elronds. I don't like tall, gigantic Legolas either… (^^;) None of us do, right?
____________________________
Part Two - Love Letters
King Thranduil sat sorting out his letters, frowning now and then when he caught messages addressed to his sons, perfumed and fancily written. He did not like this sort of products. A waste of time, he calls them. As much as he calls Christmas 'humbug'.
But here now, today, was something different. Why, it was a letter from Rivendell! And… wonderfully scented? The elven king's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He picked it up, and recognized the writing as that of Lord Elrond's. Yet, why was Elrond, who had hardly spoken but few words with him, sending him such a letter?
Kind Thranduil's heartbeat started to increase. He vividly remembered the days past, when the War of the Ring was still waged. His father, the great Oropher, had declined to join the alliance and fight the cruel war many times, but finally did - and died for it. It was because of that half-elf! Thranduil remembered his father's speech when they were in private, how foolish he was to accept the offer just for the sake of humoring one so fair as the Lord of Imladris.
Ah, those were the days! Before Thranduil had chanced to meet Elrond, already his father had, a few days ere then, told him about that half-elf and raised hope of his son in their meeting.
"He is very fair in countenance," Oropher had said to Thranduil; "His dark hair unlike ours, the elves of the wood. He hardly wears any jewelry, as is accustomed to us elves, for we are fond of such things, but still he looks like a gem; when he smiles, it looks like heaven!"
At that point of time, Thranduil had merely shrugged it off, thinking that old age had finally gotten the better of his father. But now, faced with the situation of this… this sort…
Thranduil gingerly pried open the red-tinted paper envelope, and the scent of lavender and roses, mixed to perfection, wafted past his nostrils. He stared at the carefully penned down writing, and his heart skipped a beat as he read the contents slowly.
"Oh, gold the sun, the good sweet sun! Like the hair the flaxen rays are!
Your eyes the sky blue and free ~ mixed with a shade of robin's egg and amethyst!
I have seen your beauty; come to me!
For I cannot but dream from afar…
Not when we're realms apart, shrouded by mist!
I have said all in my verses penned above. I wish to behold you yet again, o child of the sun! My infatuation for you is deep, and you need only come to turn that into love, my sweet!"
He sucked in a deep breath, and clutched his head in his hands, his thoughts swimming. He remembered the last time he had beheld the elf-lord… and the more he remembered it, the more guilt he felt. They both had wives, though his had passed away, Celebrian was alive and well, west of the sea.
But then, if Elrond had… admitted to such idle fancies, why should he reject it? Celebrian would not mind it the least, would she? Would Celeborn, or Galadriel deny him his love? Love?
Was Thranduil in love with this foreign elf?
Thranduil set his jaw firmly. He wrote a swift but passionate reply to the letter he had received, and was determined to send only the best messenger to the wonderful realm across - Legolas.
_________________________
"Oh, look! Is that Prince Legolas?"
Elladan and Elrohir both leaned over the frail balcony to observe the younger elf from above. Legolas was very much a vision of beauty, but he had flaxen hair and golden features, unlike the elegant and silky fine ones of their father.
"It seems so," Elrohir answered his brother. He grinned. "He has come, as we had requested in the letter… And our father seems to have received a letter from Mirkwood!"
"I wish we had not set them up," Elladan said wistfully. "I feel bad… I mean; father doesn't even know Legolas! How could he say that he had loved Legolas so long before?"
"Pedophilia?" Elrohir grinned evilly. Elladan countered his brother with a punch on his shoulder.
"Your twisted, perverted thoughts! I'm shocked that I'm even related to you, dear brother!"
"As am I," Elrohir grinned easily. "You're too angelic."
Elladan snorted, very much like Glorfindel's. Elrohir laughed. "You sound like Glorfindel!"
"Indeed."
Legolas stared at the dreamlike beauty of Rivendell. He looked around for escorts, and was helped willingly by Glorfindel, who was trying hard to suppress his evil grin.
"I shall escort you to your room," he said; "Come with me, your Highness, and have a rest first. Our lord will tend to you shortly."
Legolas followed Glorfindel, glancing around to catch a glimpse of the Lord of Imladris. His eyes fell upon a figure standing by a balcony, speaking to another elf. Legolas' breath caught in his throat.
The elf was dark haired, a serene beauty. From afar Legolas could see his smile, but the color of his eyes he could not determine. He was robed in white and silver, as was his custom, and on his forehead was a thinly lined and delicate circlet, a star weaved in the middle.
The elf caught his gaze, and beamed at him. The wood-elf nearly fainted.
Legolas walked on, craning his neck to continue relishing his gaze, and all a sudden he walked right into a pillar. He gave an exclamation, as he tumbled down. From above, Elladan and Elrohir howled with laughter.
"He's smitten," Elladan grinned. Elrohir nodded.
"Isn't he beautiful? I saw our father smiling at him… I could almost see the admiration in his eyes."
"You have a wild imagination, my dear brother," Elladan shook his head smilingly. "Come - we must help Glorfindel. Otherwise he will rail at us again."
But Glorfindel was merely too happy to see them, forgetting to frown at them for not helping him out earlier. The twins smiled at one another, and nodded at Legolas.
"Welcome," Elladan began.
"To Imladris…" Elrohir continued, "otherwise known as Rivendell."
"We humbly extend our hospitality to you, and hope that you will enjoy your gay - uh, stay here," Elladan grinned. Legolas nodded slightly, still dazed by his fall and by the sight of the strange elf.
"Thank you," he managed weakly, staring around him. "I would like to explore your home a little, with your leave."
Glorfindel grinned. He knew what Legolas meant by 'exploring'. He had given that excuse before too, in order to court in his youth. But aloud he said, "Lord Elrond is awaiting your presence. You may explore a little after your meeting, but I do believe that you would not wish that after the event."
Legolas was confused, but he managed to nod and smile. "Very well then, please take me to see your Lord."
"Here we are," Glorfindel stopped at the door, accompanied by Elrond's two curious sons. They were a bubbly lot, and Legolas felt himself enjoying their company. The twins often bickered, but it was all mere jest and good humor on their part.
Legolas stepped into the room, clutching on to the message he had brought. The three stayed behind, and started a conversation about the sky and its fine weather.
Legolas peered around, his keen sight drinking all that was in the room. It was a large library of books, old and new, some as ancient as the mountains itself. His ears picked up a soft humming coming from the end of the room, and he craned his neck to see whom it was.
The figure stood with his back facing Legolas. Black, silky hair cascaded down his shoulders as he bent over a map, humming softly. He was clad in white and silver, his skin glowing as fine as the silk he had on himself.
He seemed to have heard the sound of Elvish breathing, and turned around to face Legolas. The wood-elf goggled at the sight of Lord Elrond.
"You…!"
"Me?" The Lord of Imladris lifted his brows at Legolas. He noted the message in Legolas' hands, and looked up again, into Legolas' eyes. They were a clear gray, in contrast to Legolas' green-blue ones. The wood-elf stared at him in admiration, before blushing and turning away.
"I… I have brought a letter from the King of Mirkwood."
"I can see that," the elf-lord's tone was soothing, and Legolas relaxed, handling Elrond the message. He then looked around, trying to occupy his mind with anything other than the half-elf that stood in front of him.
Legolas noted how different this elf was from the others - he had unusually dark hair and nearly humanlike features, though he truly was magnificent to behold. He was a little shorter than the elves he had met outside, in fact, petite compared to his father. Legolas was a little taller than Elrond, and he stared down at him as he stood reading the letter.
Elrond had paled out. He glanced nervously at Legolas, and back at the letter again.
"Has the King really sent me this through you? Did he deliver it himself?"
"Yes…" Legolas looked worried. "Why?"
Elrond did not answer. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, unconscious.
_________________________
To Be Continued…
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