Disclaimer: I do not own LoTR or any of its characters. I just decided to
borrow them and play with them for a little while. No harm done. Not
much, anyway.
Warnings:
Rated R for language and drug references/usage, which does not appear in the first few chapters. Possibility of sexual references and/or situations in later chapters.
And, for those oh-so lovely rabid fangirls of Legolas, be forewarned that Legolas is not as he once was. He now has a number of, erm, issues. Yes, issues is the right word.
I also have a tendency to write short chapters. It helps keep me on track.
Notations (my HTML just doesn't like me):
{thought}
\flashback/
[author insertion]
Now, on with the fanfic...
Chapter One: |Vices of Men|
Legolas took a long, drawn out pull from the cigarette, Elrond's voice fading in and out of his hearing. {Gandalf would be disappointed...} this was a far cry from the old wizard's favorite pastime.
"Legolas. Legolas! Are you even listening to me?"
"Not really." The elf brushed a stray bit of hair behind his ear, clearly disinterested.
"The vices of Men do not suit you, young one." Elrond's disapproval was just as clear.
"Do they not? This world is no longer ours, old one. It is the world of Men now, whether we like it or not. And I am not young, not any longer." He let his cigarette fall to the floor, crushing it beneath his foot.
Elrond's displeasure was becoming more and more evident by now, and he was on the verge of losing his temper. " I am older than you by far; I may call you what I wish. This disrespect you have for yourself and others is not fitting for the Prince of Mirkwood!"
"I am Prince of nothing, old fool! Mirkwood is no longer, and we Elves shall soon follow it!"
He had gone too far this time, he could see it in Elrond's eyes. Elrond, however, chose not to respond. Perhaps it was because he knew the truth behind Legolas' words. Whatever he thought, he kept it to himself as he left the room, leaving Legolas alone with his dark thoughts.
He was so bitter now, so cynical. So different from the noble archer who has set out from Rivendell those many years ago. But that was all done now, the Fellowship would die with him. Back then, he had been nothing like this. But now, he found, the vices of Men suited him very, very well.
Warnings:
Rated R for language and drug references/usage, which does not appear in the first few chapters. Possibility of sexual references and/or situations in later chapters.
And, for those oh-so lovely rabid fangirls of Legolas, be forewarned that Legolas is not as he once was. He now has a number of, erm, issues. Yes, issues is the right word.
I also have a tendency to write short chapters. It helps keep me on track.
Notations (my HTML just doesn't like me):
{thought}
\flashback/
[author insertion]
Now, on with the fanfic...
Chapter One: |Vices of Men|
Legolas took a long, drawn out pull from the cigarette, Elrond's voice fading in and out of his hearing. {Gandalf would be disappointed...} this was a far cry from the old wizard's favorite pastime.
"Legolas. Legolas! Are you even listening to me?"
"Not really." The elf brushed a stray bit of hair behind his ear, clearly disinterested.
"The vices of Men do not suit you, young one." Elrond's disapproval was just as clear.
"Do they not? This world is no longer ours, old one. It is the world of Men now, whether we like it or not. And I am not young, not any longer." He let his cigarette fall to the floor, crushing it beneath his foot.
Elrond's displeasure was becoming more and more evident by now, and he was on the verge of losing his temper. " I am older than you by far; I may call you what I wish. This disrespect you have for yourself and others is not fitting for the Prince of Mirkwood!"
"I am Prince of nothing, old fool! Mirkwood is no longer, and we Elves shall soon follow it!"
He had gone too far this time, he could see it in Elrond's eyes. Elrond, however, chose not to respond. Perhaps it was because he knew the truth behind Legolas' words. Whatever he thought, he kept it to himself as he left the room, leaving Legolas alone with his dark thoughts.
He was so bitter now, so cynical. So different from the noble archer who has set out from Rivendell those many years ago. But that was all done now, the Fellowship would die with him. Back then, he had been nothing like this. But now, he found, the vices of Men suited him very, very well.