A/N: As stated in the summary - this is my *very* *first* *story*... so excuse me if I'm a little... well, bad ... you know - at telling it... =D
This is pre-FotR!
Basically, the story involves the first meeting of the third Prince of Mirkwood and the son of the Lord of Rivendell - (Legolas and Aragorn, really.) I've changed a few things - as in... Aragorn isn't known as an adopted son of Elrond's, but as a full son instead - his heritage hasn't fully been explained to him yet; and I have no idea if Thranduil had three sons or whatever... I just made it this way. Bear with me, okay? ;)
Right- back to the summary. Um, they meet, fall in love, etc, etc. Loosely inspired by watching Romeo and Juliet on TV last night... yadda, yadda. No, I don't think they will both die at the end - I'm trying to make this light-hearted... tragedies are too painful =T
Disclaimer: I do *not* own any of these characters except Raumiwen! But if you want her, you can take her, she's a free person and will probably be looking for a new job after this story. Don't sue, thanks! :)
P.S. This particular chapter does not contain any bit of slash, but the next chapters definitely will. Be forewarned! Ehem. You may continue. (Please continue!)
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The three sons of Elrond Half-Elven made their way through the forestry of Mirkwood as silently as they could, knowing that perimeter scouts - however tipsy and off-guard, under the circumstances - were still present. No, they were not supposed to be lurking about in the woods of their neighboring kingdom and, of course, they did not want to give away their presence before they got a chance to enjoy themselves at the party.
"Why does a king give a ball at midnight to last only until the Dawn?", Elrohir asked his twin as they crept, with elven grace, through shrubs, thickets and the like.
"Why does a king hide away his last son as the King of Mirkwood does? How should I know?", Elladan replied, a little agitated by being asked such a pointless question in the middle trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. "Thranduil is obviously a bit off his rocker since his his wifes last birthing, and chooses to gradually let his public in on this knowledge by his carefully thought-out random acts of lunacy."
"Do you think the two of you could converse a little bit more louder, please? I don't think the rats of Mordor have heard your ponderings yet.", Estel whispered to the twins fiercely, pausing in a rather comical one foot in front of the other-hands out creeping stance. The twins smiled similarly and glanced once at each other before continuing on after their younger brother.
Only minimal scratches against the earth could be heard of their foosteps, as each of the brood of Elrond slowly came closer to the merry sounds of music and laughter taking place at Mirkwood Midnight Masquerade.
It didn't take much convincing of the twins to get them to follow Estel into the Kingdom for a night of mischevious fun, parading around as nobles of Mirkwood early into the morning. No doubt if the Lord of Rivendell had found out about the scandalous plan, he would have had their hides tethered and chained to the Rivendell stables for weeks. The half-alliance between Mirkwood and Rivendell was delicate enough without the embarrassment and reprecussions of royal fraud thrown into the mix.
But what did it matter, anyway? They would never be caught, for Estel was far too careful to let any sort of slip-up occur, resulting in their discovery. Estel was a natural ranger. Estel was prepared. Estel was never caught. Mostly - Estel was bored out of his mind, for out-of-his-mind is what happens when Estel gets bored. And now Estel was in need of excitement, too much so to let this little scheme cooked up by his insanity-invaded-and-inactive-brain pass by without a taste.
So here they were, the three of them, gathering about at the edge of a clearing in front of the Mirkwood castle.
"Masks out.", Estel commanded, his eyes darting around, carefully noting their positions and any possible spectators.
The twins pulled out their ebony face-coverlets and tied them around their heads, making sure the others' was in place. If the ball were not a masque, then the plan would have surely been foiled - for the sons of Lord Elrond would have quickly been spotted and shown away from the private Mirkwood ball.
"What about yours?", Elladan asked, noticing Estel's face was still visible.
"In a minute.", was the distracted reply,"You two will go out first, I'll watch and then follow."
The twins looked at each other and then at Estel, questionably.
Estel gave them an impatient sigh. "Security, of course. Just go. We meet back here at first light. I hope I *don't* have to tell the two of you to keep your masks on at all times."
Elrohir almost snorted, Elladan just shook his head and remarked to his twin,"You'd think *he* was the elder, here, the way he talks at us..."
They each grinned at each other, before the twins - on Estel's cue - dashed into the confusion of the party unnoticed by any guards hovering by the doors, walls or crouching above in the trees.
Pulling out his own dark mask, Estel checked above and around one last time before slipping the half-coverlet over his eyes and gliding into the glittering costumes, of course, without being spotted.
Tonight, he would have excitement! This was to be a night of fun, entertainment, and downright mischief!
An escape from the tedious life of nobility; an endless array of pretty eyes; and sparklingly flirtacious smiles... how could Estel's rebellious spirit resist?
*Ah*, thought he, *and of course... the possibility of discovering why on Middle Earth the king of Mirkwood does, indeed, cloak his youngest from the public... *
And smiling to himself, Estel bowed to an unknown lady with a rather smashing set of green eyes and began his night of fun with an enchanting dance to one of his favorite ballads...
********** Earlier that Evening Within the Mirkwood Royal Household **********
"Legolas, you will hold still or so help me, I will bind your limbs with -"
"Then bind! Bind me here, so that I will not have to attend this blasted ball! I would rather spend the day suspended from the ceilings by whatever thread you tie me with than endure such -"
"Mind your tongue, you unruly little princeling, and don't thrash so!", cried Raumiwen, official tailor and attendent of the Third Prince of Mirkwood, and unofficial tamer of the shrew that *is* the Third Prince of Mirkwood.
"Raumi, please, I will see to it that -OW!", the Prince yelped as his attendent accidently poked him with a needle, as she tried to get to mending his costume for the evening; or morning, rather."See to it that you have an entirely new dress - OW!- Ten new dresses! - AGH! - Of SILK! - If you would only...ouch, tell my father that I am ill this evening or make up some -DEAR MANWE OF OF THE VALOR! WHAT was that!" The Prince twisted around, trying to wriggle out of Raumiwen's grip - to no avail of course.
"If you would only hold still, this would go much faster and with a lot less yelps, O stop bouncing!", the poor elf woman pleaded, knitting her brows, firming her grip and diving into the costume once more with a needle.
Legolas did not stop bouncing and as it happened, was in the end bound hand and foot before Raumiwen could finish sewing up the costume Legolas was supposed to wear; the tear of which would not have been present had the Prince stayed still the first time he had it on.
"I cannot believe I have to *wear* this. In public. With people around. Who have eyes.", Legolas moaned, looking down at himself.
"It's not so bad, just uncomfortable.", Raumiwen smiled, admiring her work and looking rather out-of-sorts herself. She was leaning back against the wall, resting, her legs out in front of her underneath her heaving bosom - heaving, for she was still out of breath from having had to tackle and struggle with the prince. "Honestly, you look enchanting, dear."
"Oh, now you're just mocking me.", Legolas glared at his attendent a moment before wandering stiffly to the full-length mirror beside his chamber room door. He gazed intently at himself, unaffected by the stunning beauty before him. *Same old long blonde hair, same old blue eyes, stuffed into the same old grayish costume and about to be shoved out into the same old routine party.*, he thought.
"I'm not mocking you. And you know it.", Raumiwen said, pursing her lips to the side and blowing her bangs out of her face. "You know that's why you're father keeps you hidden! Like a spade in a tavern card game, that King keeps you."
"Doesn't make any sense to me. Never has, never will so why carry on this same conversation over again?", the Prince rolled his eyes at his reflection and sighed. Turning to face his attendent, he said,"When d'we go, then?"
Raumiwen smiled, stood, and began smoothing her slightly ruffled clothes. "Now."
Taking the Spade Prince's arm, she knocked twice on the door, paused, and knocked a third time, before a guard from the outside unlocked and opened the door for them to leave. This sort of thing was required whenever a night of dancing would involve the Prince, who was known to race around the castle hiding from tailors, maids, and various members of the royal family in so many failed attempts to escape parties.
Everyone knew the third Prince hated formal situations, hated the stares and gawks he received from those unaccustomed to his beauty, and hated even more the costumes he was nailed up in whenever the occasions arose. But no one knew why the third Prince struggled each and every time, even though they always caught him in the end. As of yet, he hadn't escaped one single party with his tactics.
The Prince himself didn't seem to care about this, though, as he grimly marched down the halls with his attendent and a couple of guards, a plan already formulating in his mind to dash down the next branch-hall and lock himself inside a random room.
Raumiwen, who had been anticipating a sudden lurch for escape from the Prince, was already mentally patting herself on the back for such good work, and clever thinking on her part.
To her credit - the expected un-expected dash for freedom was, indeed, intercepted by two extra guards who had been planted in the left branch hallway without the Prince's knowledge.
"Unbelievable.", the Prince muttered, shaking his head as he was once again marched down stairs in the direction of the awaiting party. *Here we go again*, Legolas thought miserably in defeat,*Another boring, uncomfortable and awful night ensues...*
Ah, but the Prince would be proven wrong by the first sign of the baby Dawn's blushing smile. This night would be far from the usual for both he and the mischevious young man called Hope...
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Ehem! Reviews, please. Be kind. Don't murder me, all right? The real plot comes soon! This was only the introduction...
This is pre-FotR!
Basically, the story involves the first meeting of the third Prince of Mirkwood and the son of the Lord of Rivendell - (Legolas and Aragorn, really.) I've changed a few things - as in... Aragorn isn't known as an adopted son of Elrond's, but as a full son instead - his heritage hasn't fully been explained to him yet; and I have no idea if Thranduil had three sons or whatever... I just made it this way. Bear with me, okay? ;)
Right- back to the summary. Um, they meet, fall in love, etc, etc. Loosely inspired by watching Romeo and Juliet on TV last night... yadda, yadda. No, I don't think they will both die at the end - I'm trying to make this light-hearted... tragedies are too painful =T
Disclaimer: I do *not* own any of these characters except Raumiwen! But if you want her, you can take her, she's a free person and will probably be looking for a new job after this story. Don't sue, thanks! :)
P.S. This particular chapter does not contain any bit of slash, but the next chapters definitely will. Be forewarned! Ehem. You may continue. (Please continue!)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The three sons of Elrond Half-Elven made their way through the forestry of Mirkwood as silently as they could, knowing that perimeter scouts - however tipsy and off-guard, under the circumstances - were still present. No, they were not supposed to be lurking about in the woods of their neighboring kingdom and, of course, they did not want to give away their presence before they got a chance to enjoy themselves at the party.
"Why does a king give a ball at midnight to last only until the Dawn?", Elrohir asked his twin as they crept, with elven grace, through shrubs, thickets and the like.
"Why does a king hide away his last son as the King of Mirkwood does? How should I know?", Elladan replied, a little agitated by being asked such a pointless question in the middle trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. "Thranduil is obviously a bit off his rocker since his his wifes last birthing, and chooses to gradually let his public in on this knowledge by his carefully thought-out random acts of lunacy."
"Do you think the two of you could converse a little bit more louder, please? I don't think the rats of Mordor have heard your ponderings yet.", Estel whispered to the twins fiercely, pausing in a rather comical one foot in front of the other-hands out creeping stance. The twins smiled similarly and glanced once at each other before continuing on after their younger brother.
Only minimal scratches against the earth could be heard of their foosteps, as each of the brood of Elrond slowly came closer to the merry sounds of music and laughter taking place at Mirkwood Midnight Masquerade.
It didn't take much convincing of the twins to get them to follow Estel into the Kingdom for a night of mischevious fun, parading around as nobles of Mirkwood early into the morning. No doubt if the Lord of Rivendell had found out about the scandalous plan, he would have had their hides tethered and chained to the Rivendell stables for weeks. The half-alliance between Mirkwood and Rivendell was delicate enough without the embarrassment and reprecussions of royal fraud thrown into the mix.
But what did it matter, anyway? They would never be caught, for Estel was far too careful to let any sort of slip-up occur, resulting in their discovery. Estel was a natural ranger. Estel was prepared. Estel was never caught. Mostly - Estel was bored out of his mind, for out-of-his-mind is what happens when Estel gets bored. And now Estel was in need of excitement, too much so to let this little scheme cooked up by his insanity-invaded-and-inactive-brain pass by without a taste.
So here they were, the three of them, gathering about at the edge of a clearing in front of the Mirkwood castle.
"Masks out.", Estel commanded, his eyes darting around, carefully noting their positions and any possible spectators.
The twins pulled out their ebony face-coverlets and tied them around their heads, making sure the others' was in place. If the ball were not a masque, then the plan would have surely been foiled - for the sons of Lord Elrond would have quickly been spotted and shown away from the private Mirkwood ball.
"What about yours?", Elladan asked, noticing Estel's face was still visible.
"In a minute.", was the distracted reply,"You two will go out first, I'll watch and then follow."
The twins looked at each other and then at Estel, questionably.
Estel gave them an impatient sigh. "Security, of course. Just go. We meet back here at first light. I hope I *don't* have to tell the two of you to keep your masks on at all times."
Elrohir almost snorted, Elladan just shook his head and remarked to his twin,"You'd think *he* was the elder, here, the way he talks at us..."
They each grinned at each other, before the twins - on Estel's cue - dashed into the confusion of the party unnoticed by any guards hovering by the doors, walls or crouching above in the trees.
Pulling out his own dark mask, Estel checked above and around one last time before slipping the half-coverlet over his eyes and gliding into the glittering costumes, of course, without being spotted.
Tonight, he would have excitement! This was to be a night of fun, entertainment, and downright mischief!
An escape from the tedious life of nobility; an endless array of pretty eyes; and sparklingly flirtacious smiles... how could Estel's rebellious spirit resist?
*Ah*, thought he, *and of course... the possibility of discovering why on Middle Earth the king of Mirkwood does, indeed, cloak his youngest from the public... *
And smiling to himself, Estel bowed to an unknown lady with a rather smashing set of green eyes and began his night of fun with an enchanting dance to one of his favorite ballads...
********** Earlier that Evening Within the Mirkwood Royal Household **********
"Legolas, you will hold still or so help me, I will bind your limbs with -"
"Then bind! Bind me here, so that I will not have to attend this blasted ball! I would rather spend the day suspended from the ceilings by whatever thread you tie me with than endure such -"
"Mind your tongue, you unruly little princeling, and don't thrash so!", cried Raumiwen, official tailor and attendent of the Third Prince of Mirkwood, and unofficial tamer of the shrew that *is* the Third Prince of Mirkwood.
"Raumi, please, I will see to it that -OW!", the Prince yelped as his attendent accidently poked him with a needle, as she tried to get to mending his costume for the evening; or morning, rather."See to it that you have an entirely new dress - OW!- Ten new dresses! - AGH! - Of SILK! - If you would only...ouch, tell my father that I am ill this evening or make up some -DEAR MANWE OF OF THE VALOR! WHAT was that!" The Prince twisted around, trying to wriggle out of Raumiwen's grip - to no avail of course.
"If you would only hold still, this would go much faster and with a lot less yelps, O stop bouncing!", the poor elf woman pleaded, knitting her brows, firming her grip and diving into the costume once more with a needle.
Legolas did not stop bouncing and as it happened, was in the end bound hand and foot before Raumiwen could finish sewing up the costume Legolas was supposed to wear; the tear of which would not have been present had the Prince stayed still the first time he had it on.
"I cannot believe I have to *wear* this. In public. With people around. Who have eyes.", Legolas moaned, looking down at himself.
"It's not so bad, just uncomfortable.", Raumiwen smiled, admiring her work and looking rather out-of-sorts herself. She was leaning back against the wall, resting, her legs out in front of her underneath her heaving bosom - heaving, for she was still out of breath from having had to tackle and struggle with the prince. "Honestly, you look enchanting, dear."
"Oh, now you're just mocking me.", Legolas glared at his attendent a moment before wandering stiffly to the full-length mirror beside his chamber room door. He gazed intently at himself, unaffected by the stunning beauty before him. *Same old long blonde hair, same old blue eyes, stuffed into the same old grayish costume and about to be shoved out into the same old routine party.*, he thought.
"I'm not mocking you. And you know it.", Raumiwen said, pursing her lips to the side and blowing her bangs out of her face. "You know that's why you're father keeps you hidden! Like a spade in a tavern card game, that King keeps you."
"Doesn't make any sense to me. Never has, never will so why carry on this same conversation over again?", the Prince rolled his eyes at his reflection and sighed. Turning to face his attendent, he said,"When d'we go, then?"
Raumiwen smiled, stood, and began smoothing her slightly ruffled clothes. "Now."
Taking the Spade Prince's arm, she knocked twice on the door, paused, and knocked a third time, before a guard from the outside unlocked and opened the door for them to leave. This sort of thing was required whenever a night of dancing would involve the Prince, who was known to race around the castle hiding from tailors, maids, and various members of the royal family in so many failed attempts to escape parties.
Everyone knew the third Prince hated formal situations, hated the stares and gawks he received from those unaccustomed to his beauty, and hated even more the costumes he was nailed up in whenever the occasions arose. But no one knew why the third Prince struggled each and every time, even though they always caught him in the end. As of yet, he hadn't escaped one single party with his tactics.
The Prince himself didn't seem to care about this, though, as he grimly marched down the halls with his attendent and a couple of guards, a plan already formulating in his mind to dash down the next branch-hall and lock himself inside a random room.
Raumiwen, who had been anticipating a sudden lurch for escape from the Prince, was already mentally patting herself on the back for such good work, and clever thinking on her part.
To her credit - the expected un-expected dash for freedom was, indeed, intercepted by two extra guards who had been planted in the left branch hallway without the Prince's knowledge.
"Unbelievable.", the Prince muttered, shaking his head as he was once again marched down stairs in the direction of the awaiting party. *Here we go again*, Legolas thought miserably in defeat,*Another boring, uncomfortable and awful night ensues...*
Ah, but the Prince would be proven wrong by the first sign of the baby Dawn's blushing smile. This night would be far from the usual for both he and the mischevious young man called Hope...
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Ehem! Reviews, please. Be kind. Don't murder me, all right? The real plot comes soon! This was only the introduction...