Tricksy Tales #1
By
TreeHugger
Of Mud Monsters, Orcs, And Spiders
Chapter One - The Day The Orcs Came To Tea
For Mickie, who suggested this series, and for anyone else who wanted some short Tricksy Tales. There will be one more chapter for this tale.
Author's Note - This tale is set 2 years after Elrond's Most Forgettable Birthday.
This is not beta'd, as my dear beta al is feeling a bit under the weather. I hope you feel better soon, nin mellon. And I apologize for the mistakes. Please feel free to just ignore them.
~*~*~*
The day started out nicely enough. The sun was shining in an azure sky, fluffy white clouds floated lazily overhead; the birds were singing happily in the summer-bedecked branches to the quiet harmony of the crickets; fat bees droned lazily in the flower gardens, and bright butterflies flitted about the roses, velvety wings glimmering in all the shades of the rainbow. The soft sound of singing could be heard, songs of the season, music that exalted in the glory and bounty of summer. Children's merry laughter rang through the trees as they played games of tag, and participated in various contests of skill, strength, and speed.
There were three children in Mirkwood though that had left the games early, and had headed into the forest. They trotted down one of the many pathways that wended through the trees, not seeing the profusion of flowers that grew in colorful stands between them. Several times they had paused, and glanced behind them to see if anyone was following, but no one seemed to have noticed their sudden absence. Soon two of them had sprinted ahead of the third, their faces lit with mischief filled smiles.
"This isn't very nice!" the third one called, hurrying after them. "She is just a child!"
"*We* are just children, so that makes it alright, Brethil!"
Brethil frowned at Legolas and Tavor, not quite certain what to make of this logic. But, he decided, they were older than he was, and much wiser, so they were probably right.
"She is not going to like it," he continued, finally catching up with them as they headed off the path toward their destination. "She is going to get us into trouble."
"She does that all the time. So it is our turn to have some fun," Tavor said, with a smirk, looking over at Legolas who was grinning widely "before we get into trouble."
"She won't be that scared. . . not after a while anyway. Just imagine the look on her face when she see us!" The youngest prince of Mirkwood whooped with laughter as he pictured his little sister's face when they pulled their latest trick on her. She was a most irritating child, and she was constantly running to their ada and telling him about what mean thing they had done to her now, or running to Tanglinna, eyes filled with the tears she could conjure at will, and getting them into even more trouble. She had to be stopped, and Legolas thought that he knew just how to do it. He recalled how she had been terrified by the tale of Mesgwauruan the Mud Monster that the Tricksy Trio thought had followed them from the forest a couple years before. There had been no monster as they found out, but Laerlend could not shake the feeling - or the fear - that one did exist, and it would come for her one of these days. So Legolas' plan had been born.
Surrounded by a grove of tall cypress trees was a mud pit, filled with stinking black muck. The children of Mirkwood had been warned away from this muddy place by their parents, but Legolas had always been fascinated by it, though he had never gotten very close. Today they were going to more than close. He had heard tales from others older than himself about how the mud smelled, and clung to the skin. The story even went that it would turn the skin dark and blotchy, and never come off. Legolas had once worried about this, but since none of the ones telling these tales had black, spotty skin how could they say it never came off? He knew they were merely teasing the "younglings," and the mud was just what he wanted for his revenge on Laerlend.
They could smell the muddy mess before they saw it, and Brethil wrinkled his nose, glancing uneasily at the other two.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Legolas?" he asked as they entered the cypress grove.
"Of course I am. I have thought about this for a very long time. It will be perfect! My plans always are. Look! There it is!"
The three slowed to a walk, staring in awe at the round pond shaped pit filled with the dark mud. It bubbled slightly, sending a horrible stench into the air when the bubbles burst.
Tavor was frowning now. He hadn't realized that it would smell quite so badly.
"Legolas? That . . . are you certain that . . . " He swallowed, turning to look at the prince.
Legolas turned to look scathingly at him, daring him to turn back now.
Tavor gulped slightly, and looked away. He could not act anything other than enthusiastic now, or Legolas would never let him hear the end of it.
"It looks very cold and slimy," Brethil commented, his hand clamped over his nose and mouth. "Your father is going to be very angry when he finds out we were here."
"He isn't going to find out," Legolas said confidently, though he pinched his nose against the smell. He hadn't expected it to smell this strongly either, but he didn't dare to act anything but enthusiastic now, or Tavor would never let him hear the end of it. "Come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can scare her."
"He . . . he is right, Legolas," Tavor said, his voice squeaking slightly. He couldn't do this! He cleared his throat. "We will get caught. We always do. Let's just think of something else."
"No! This is perfect." Legolas turned to look at his two friends, his blue eyes filled with challenge. "On three," he said, knowing that if he waited any longer he would be the one to back out. That would never do! "One. . ."
"What if it is deeper than it looks?" Brethil asked, eyeing the bubbling mud suspiciously. "Can you swim in mud? I don't think you can. It might just suck you to the bottom, and you will rot there forever. In fact -"
"Shut up, Brethil. It isn't that deep. I will go poke a stick in it to see how deep it is." Legolas hunted for a moment before finding a suitably long stick about three feet long. He approached the mud hole cautiously, nearly gagging on the odor that rose from it. He leaned forward, and slid the stick into the mud. Maybe it would be too deep, and then they wouldn't have to do this! It only sank in about two feet, dashing those slim hopes. He turned to look at them, tossing the stick away. He summoned his false enthusiasm and said, "See! Come on!"
Tavor looked at Brethil, who frowned. Suddenly a wicked gleam came into Tavor's grey eyes, and he eased over to Legolas.
"You are right, Legolas. You always are. Very well, let's do it."
He nudged the prince, and nodded slightly at Brethil, whose face wore a look of great uncertainty.
"I don't think we should do this," Brethil said slowly. "We have been told not to come here. Your ada will be mad, Legolas, and he is very scary when he is angry. So is your ada, Tavor, though not as much as the king. Now your grandmother. . . she is *very* scary," he continued, cocking his head to one side as he studied his friend. "I think that even King Oropher was scared of her, Tavor. Why one time I heard -"
Suddenly Legolas and Tavor leapt forward, each grabbing an arm and yanking him toward the bog.
"No! Legolas! Tavor! Don't!" Brethil protested, trying to pull away from them.
They drug him to the edge of the mud pit, Brethil protesting vehemently, even as he tried to free himself.
"Wait! Wait! You said we were going to take off our clothes so we wouldn't ruin them! Wait! My naneth will not be happy if I get this tunic dirty!"
Legolas frowned, gazing over at Tavor who was looking likewise perturbed. It was true, they didn't want to ruin their clothing, which would also leave evidence of their guilt. Finally he shrugged.
"Very well, Brethil. I had forgotten." It would delay this as well. Perhaps by then he would think of a way out of this. It really did smell!
The moment the grip on his arms loosened, Brethil yanked away quickly causing the other two to lose their balance. They teetered on the edge, arms flailing. Tavor splashed into the mud, followed by Legolas. Brethil's mouth fell open, and he clasped his hands on his cheeks.
"I am so sorry," he began. "I didn't mean for that to happen!" He saw the angry looks of shock and disbelief on their faces as they stood spluttering, covered from head to toe with the sticky filth. Their long hair hung in muddied strings about their faces, making their eyes stand out in contrast. "I really didn't mean-"
"You will pay for that, Brethil," Legolas growled, wiping his hand over his face in an attempt to rid it of the clinging muck, but he only succeeded in smearing it even more.
"I am so sorry," Brethil repeated, watching as they both grabbed handfuls of mud, preparing to fling it at him.
Suddenly the three froze instinctively as the sound of voices were heard, voices that belonged to people who might tell on them. And they were coming closer.
Brethil's eyes widened even more, and he leapt into the mud with the other two, earning him an annoyed stare from Tavor, whom he had inadvertently splashed.
"They wouldn't come this way," the first voice said. "They know they will get in trouble if they do."
"Which is exactly why we are checking here," the other one rejoined with a snort. "I will wager you my new arrows that they are here. If they are not, then you must. . . get your sister to kiss me!"
Talagan's laughter filled the air.
"Done!" he agreed. "Let us see who is correct."
The three young elves standing in the mud glanced uneasily at one another.
"Duck!" Legolas gasped, and he dropped down into the mud until just his eyes and nose were hovering over it.
Tavor grimaced, but did the same. Brethil's eyes moved from where Legolas was to where Tavor knelt, his brows knit with worry.
"I don't want to do this. My naneth will not be very happy with me."
Suddenly he felt hands grab his tunic on either side and he splashed down into the mud, feeling Legolas push his head under. He came up spluttering and spitting, but Legolas quickly shushed him, pointing to where Talagan and Glavrol were entering the grove. The three young elves instantly stilled, feeling grateful that the bank helped to hide them from the others' eyes.
"I told you," Talagan said, immediately covering his nose with his hand. "It smells so bad that they would come any closer than this."
Glavrol, not entirely happy that he had lost the wager, ventured a few steps closer before shaking his head, and backing away.
"Very well. You win. I would have know that it took me *hours* to make those arrows. So *don't* lose them!"
Talagan laughed once more, draping an arm over Glavrol's shoulders.
"Don't worry, I won't. I will even ask my sister to kiss you anyway. It is the least I can do for all the hard work you put into *my* arrows!"
Soon the two had vanished, the sound of their voices fading away.
"That was close," Tavor said, standing up, and glaring down at himself. "Look what you did, Brethil! Disgusting!" He wiped at the filth that coated him, glaring at his friend now.
"You shouldn't have tried to push me in," Brethil protested defensively.
"Just be quiet both of you!" Legolas scowled fiercely, not liking that his plan had gone so awry. Now what were they to do? He climbed out onto the grass, staring down at his own filthy clothing. At least it didn't seem to smell quite as bad as it had.
The other two clambered out to stand beside him, dripping slimy black and green mud onto the grass. Tavor was muttering under his breath, pushing at the mess that coated him when Legolas suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Don't!" he said with a flash of white teeth as he grinned. "We might as well go ahead and scare Laerlend. We won't get a second chance after this."
A slow grin spread over Tavor's face, and his dark grey eyes sparkled.
"Where is she?" he asked, feeling his high spirits return.
"Legolas, Tavor, I don't think-"
"Shut up, Brethil," the two said in unison, both turning to glare at him once more.
"This is all your fault, Brethil," Legolas said, moving away from the younger elf. "If you don't help us scare Laerlend then we will tell how you made us fall in the mud." Legolas didn't think Brethil would recall that they weren't supposed to be her in the first place, and he was not disappointed.
"But I didn't mean to!" Brethil began, starting after Legolas, his eyes filled with worry and remorse. "You know I didn't mean for you to fall in."
"That is not how my ada will see it," Legolas continued, trying to control his satisfied grin.
Tavor chuckled slightly, and headed after them.
"Where is Laerlend?" he repeated.
Legolas snorted, avoiding Brethil's pleading eyes.
"Having a tea party. What else?"
Tavor felt a thrill of excitement. If Laerlend were having a tea party then there would probably be other young females present. There would even be some older ones there as well, trying to sit gracefully in the too small chairs and Laerlend's too small table. They would be there in hopes of catching a glimpse of Legolas and his two brothers no doubt.
~And me! ~ Tavor thought happily.
"Come on then!" he called, sprinting ahead with a hoot of delight. "Let's go scare the girls!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*
In a small private garden protected by tall leafy hedges twined with honeysuckle Laerlend was indeed having a tea party. Her child-sized table was draped with a blue cloth embroidered with white daisies and purple asters. A vase of deepest emerald glass was filled with roses from her mother's garden, and her nurse Sellond had brought out her best tea set on an enameled tray of ruby red.
Laerlend's golden hair had been curled, the locks topped with a wreath of daisies. All of her guests were required to wear similar "crowns," some with roses, some with small sunflowers. But only Laerlend was allowed to wear the "Daisy Crown." The elf maidens seated with her ranged in age from the toddling Aurhwind, who had just learned to walk, to Laerlend's own peers, and even some older maidens like Mirithil. Laerlend knew that Mirithil was "sweet" on her brother Celebross. She wasn't entirely sure just what that phrase meant, she thought it must have something to do with sugar or honey, probably honey since Mirithil had some bees of her own. She also knew that when Mirithil and Celebross looked at one another their faces wore rather silly expressions. All the same though, Laerlend liked the tall, graceful Sylvan with her long brown hair. She always smelled very nice, and the child was certain that this had something to do with her being "sweet" on Celebross. She had seen them kissing once, when they thought no one was about. Laerlend had thought it very disgusting, though perhaps if Lord Glorfindel, the elf that fascinated her child's imagination most, were to kiss her cheek it might be rather nice.
There were two maidens here today that she knew liked her brother Aralith, though they weren't "sweet" on him because they did not treat him as Mirithil treated Celebross. They were always teasing him, especially about his fear of spiders. He was really quite ridiculous at times, shrieking "Spider! Spider!" if one were about, even the small ones that inhabited the high corners of the palace. Laerlend thought his behaviour ridiculous. One must never show fear. She never did. . . or not very often.
On this particular day she had a special guest as well. It seemed that Lord Elrond had traveled to Mirkwood for a brief visit, bringing his sons and his daughter with him. Laerlend was somewhat in awe of the elf- lord's beautiful daughter with her dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. She looked very nice dressed in a rich blue gown with her crown of tiny forget- me-nots. Thranduil's daughter regarded her with a small measure of jealousy though. She did after all know Lord Glorfindel personally, and she was very lovely to look at. Was Lord Glorfindel "sweet" on her perhaps? Laerlend hoped that it was not so.
Thranduil's daughter had poured out the tea into the dainty cups encircled with painted vines of ivy and tiny daisies. She was a most gracious and elegant hostess, and even served the beauty of Imladris first as was only proper when one had such an important guest. Laerlend sat now in her chair upon a blue cushion, its silver tassels so long that they brushed the grass at her feet. She was barefoot as was her wont, and she enjoyed the sensation of the cool blades of grass tickling her small toes. She listened in on all the conversations about her, noticing that Brui and Glinbara, Aralith's admirers were whispering to one another and giggling. Mirithil was holding a quiet conversation with Arwen, who was looking entirely too pretty for her own good, Laerlend decided. She had seated the older maidens near herself as it made her feel more grownup and sophisticated. She cleared her throat, which drew Mirithil's and Arwen's attention to her, as it should be. She was the hostess after all.
"Where are your brothers, Undomiel?" Laerlend asked in carefully modulated tones that seemed at odds with her child's voice and face. She felt very elegant calling Arwen Undomiel. She was not aware that Mirithil was smiling slightly at this. The older maiden knew very well how good Laerlend was at "putting on airs," and was amused to see her playing at it now. No one excelled at it better.
Arwen suppressed the smile that threatened, knowing that it might offend her hostess if she did allow it, and answered in like manner.
"I believe they went looking for your brothers. They did not wish to interrupt your party with their loud, disruptive behaviour. I would like to thank you once again for inviting me, Princess Laerlend. It is a lovely party. Do you have them very often?"
Laerlend watched as everyone at the table turned to look at her. The maiden of Imladris had a beautiful voice, and Laerlend wondered if she would perhaps sing a duet with her. One about Glorfindel would be nice, but she, Laerlend, would sing the lead part. The child smiled in what she thought was a gracious manner, and held a gentle conversation with her revered guest about the trials of having loud, disruptive brothers. This drew a twittering response from Brui and Glinbara, whom she didn't deign to notice.
"What is that smell?" Arwen asked, leaning over to whisper in Mirithil's ear as Laerlend turned to speak about good manners to Aurhwind, who had walked over to take a cookie from Laerlend's plate.
Mirithil sniffed the air, then wrinkled her nose.
"I do not know. Whatever it is, it smells terrible!"
A short time later as they were playing at "ladylike" games, Laerlend congratulated herself on the success of her little get-together. Little did she know that disaster was about to strike.
~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*
"There they are," Tavor whispered as he crouched behind the bushes, peering into the garden where the tea party was taking place. He quickly noted which females were present, quite pleased to see that some of the ones he favored were there. But then his eyes lit on someone he had never seen before. He gasped slightly, eye widening, his heart hammering in his chest. "Who is that?"
Legolas dropped to his knees at Tavor's side, one black, mud- encrusted hand easing aside the branches. He blinked in surprise.
"It's Arwen! Lord Elrond's daughter. Are they here? I wonder where the twins are?"
Brethil stood behind them, still frowning. He had heard tales about the twins, and all the mischief they managed to get themselves into.
"Legolas, I don't think this is a good idea. We are going to get in trouble!"
"Hush, Brethil. Get down! They will see you, and then we *will* be in trouble," Legolas hissed, yanking on Brethil's hand. He noted that Tavor was still staring at Arwen, a slightly glazed look on his face. "Tavor!" He hit the moonstruck elfling on the arm, his face filled with annoyance. He turned to watch the girls, as they played some silly game with a ball of Laerlend's, and sat eating "delicacies", and sipping warm tea. ~Females! ~ he thought with a shake of his head. He would never understand them. "On three," he whispered, a grin spreading over his face, as he checked to make certain that he had Tavor and Brethil's attention. "One. . . two . . ."
"Legolas, this is *not* a good idea," Brethil protested. "I don't' think - "
"THREE!"
With that shout, he pushed through the bushes, roaring and growling in what he hoped was a voice that a mud monster might make. Tavor followed after a second, trying to make his own noises sound manly and strong. After all, one had to impress that beautiful creature with blue flowers in her black hair. Brethil scowled, his brows knit, and then he sighed heavily.
"They never listen to me. Never."
He crawled out of the bushes, hearing the terrified shrieks of fear from the assembled females, who were now running about in a panic. It seemed that Legolas' trick had worked. Unfortunately he crawled right into Laerlend who was shrieking in confused outrage. The child's eyes fell on the black form crawling out of the leaves, her hazel eyes widening in fright, her pink mouth agape.
"ORCS! ORCS!!"
Brethil stood, and was about to apologize for startling her, and making her shriek as loud as her ada could, when Legolas and Tavor grabbed his arms, and laughing in high spirits, pulled him away. The repeated words spread panic in the other maidens, who were still running about, screaming. Only Mirithil and Arwen were not impressed, but stood laughing into their hands. Laerlend had leapt across the garden after being frightened by Brethil, holding her long skirts to her knees.
"ORCS! ORCS! THERE'S ORCS AT MY TEA PARTY! AAADDDDDDAAAAAAAA!!!"
TBC
Of Mud Monsters, Orcs, And Spiders
Chapter One - The Day The Orcs Came To Tea
For Mickie, who suggested this series, and for anyone else who wanted some short Tricksy Tales. There will be one more chapter for this tale.
Author's Note - This tale is set 2 years after Elrond's Most Forgettable Birthday.
This is not beta'd, as my dear beta al is feeling a bit under the weather. I hope you feel better soon, nin mellon. And I apologize for the mistakes. Please feel free to just ignore them.
~*~*~*
The day started out nicely enough. The sun was shining in an azure sky, fluffy white clouds floated lazily overhead; the birds were singing happily in the summer-bedecked branches to the quiet harmony of the crickets; fat bees droned lazily in the flower gardens, and bright butterflies flitted about the roses, velvety wings glimmering in all the shades of the rainbow. The soft sound of singing could be heard, songs of the season, music that exalted in the glory and bounty of summer. Children's merry laughter rang through the trees as they played games of tag, and participated in various contests of skill, strength, and speed.
There were three children in Mirkwood though that had left the games early, and had headed into the forest. They trotted down one of the many pathways that wended through the trees, not seeing the profusion of flowers that grew in colorful stands between them. Several times they had paused, and glanced behind them to see if anyone was following, but no one seemed to have noticed their sudden absence. Soon two of them had sprinted ahead of the third, their faces lit with mischief filled smiles.
"This isn't very nice!" the third one called, hurrying after them. "She is just a child!"
"*We* are just children, so that makes it alright, Brethil!"
Brethil frowned at Legolas and Tavor, not quite certain what to make of this logic. But, he decided, they were older than he was, and much wiser, so they were probably right.
"She is not going to like it," he continued, finally catching up with them as they headed off the path toward their destination. "She is going to get us into trouble."
"She does that all the time. So it is our turn to have some fun," Tavor said, with a smirk, looking over at Legolas who was grinning widely "before we get into trouble."
"She won't be that scared. . . not after a while anyway. Just imagine the look on her face when she see us!" The youngest prince of Mirkwood whooped with laughter as he pictured his little sister's face when they pulled their latest trick on her. She was a most irritating child, and she was constantly running to their ada and telling him about what mean thing they had done to her now, or running to Tanglinna, eyes filled with the tears she could conjure at will, and getting them into even more trouble. She had to be stopped, and Legolas thought that he knew just how to do it. He recalled how she had been terrified by the tale of Mesgwauruan the Mud Monster that the Tricksy Trio thought had followed them from the forest a couple years before. There had been no monster as they found out, but Laerlend could not shake the feeling - or the fear - that one did exist, and it would come for her one of these days. So Legolas' plan had been born.
Surrounded by a grove of tall cypress trees was a mud pit, filled with stinking black muck. The children of Mirkwood had been warned away from this muddy place by their parents, but Legolas had always been fascinated by it, though he had never gotten very close. Today they were going to more than close. He had heard tales from others older than himself about how the mud smelled, and clung to the skin. The story even went that it would turn the skin dark and blotchy, and never come off. Legolas had once worried about this, but since none of the ones telling these tales had black, spotty skin how could they say it never came off? He knew they were merely teasing the "younglings," and the mud was just what he wanted for his revenge on Laerlend.
They could smell the muddy mess before they saw it, and Brethil wrinkled his nose, glancing uneasily at the other two.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Legolas?" he asked as they entered the cypress grove.
"Of course I am. I have thought about this for a very long time. It will be perfect! My plans always are. Look! There it is!"
The three slowed to a walk, staring in awe at the round pond shaped pit filled with the dark mud. It bubbled slightly, sending a horrible stench into the air when the bubbles burst.
Tavor was frowning now. He hadn't realized that it would smell quite so badly.
"Legolas? That . . . are you certain that . . . " He swallowed, turning to look at the prince.
Legolas turned to look scathingly at him, daring him to turn back now.
Tavor gulped slightly, and looked away. He could not act anything other than enthusiastic now, or Legolas would never let him hear the end of it.
"It looks very cold and slimy," Brethil commented, his hand clamped over his nose and mouth. "Your father is going to be very angry when he finds out we were here."
"He isn't going to find out," Legolas said confidently, though he pinched his nose against the smell. He hadn't expected it to smell this strongly either, but he didn't dare to act anything but enthusiastic now, or Tavor would never let him hear the end of it. "Come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can scare her."
"He . . . he is right, Legolas," Tavor said, his voice squeaking slightly. He couldn't do this! He cleared his throat. "We will get caught. We always do. Let's just think of something else."
"No! This is perfect." Legolas turned to look at his two friends, his blue eyes filled with challenge. "On three," he said, knowing that if he waited any longer he would be the one to back out. That would never do! "One. . ."
"What if it is deeper than it looks?" Brethil asked, eyeing the bubbling mud suspiciously. "Can you swim in mud? I don't think you can. It might just suck you to the bottom, and you will rot there forever. In fact -"
"Shut up, Brethil. It isn't that deep. I will go poke a stick in it to see how deep it is." Legolas hunted for a moment before finding a suitably long stick about three feet long. He approached the mud hole cautiously, nearly gagging on the odor that rose from it. He leaned forward, and slid the stick into the mud. Maybe it would be too deep, and then they wouldn't have to do this! It only sank in about two feet, dashing those slim hopes. He turned to look at them, tossing the stick away. He summoned his false enthusiasm and said, "See! Come on!"
Tavor looked at Brethil, who frowned. Suddenly a wicked gleam came into Tavor's grey eyes, and he eased over to Legolas.
"You are right, Legolas. You always are. Very well, let's do it."
He nudged the prince, and nodded slightly at Brethil, whose face wore a look of great uncertainty.
"I don't think we should do this," Brethil said slowly. "We have been told not to come here. Your ada will be mad, Legolas, and he is very scary when he is angry. So is your ada, Tavor, though not as much as the king. Now your grandmother. . . she is *very* scary," he continued, cocking his head to one side as he studied his friend. "I think that even King Oropher was scared of her, Tavor. Why one time I heard -"
Suddenly Legolas and Tavor leapt forward, each grabbing an arm and yanking him toward the bog.
"No! Legolas! Tavor! Don't!" Brethil protested, trying to pull away from them.
They drug him to the edge of the mud pit, Brethil protesting vehemently, even as he tried to free himself.
"Wait! Wait! You said we were going to take off our clothes so we wouldn't ruin them! Wait! My naneth will not be happy if I get this tunic dirty!"
Legolas frowned, gazing over at Tavor who was looking likewise perturbed. It was true, they didn't want to ruin their clothing, which would also leave evidence of their guilt. Finally he shrugged.
"Very well, Brethil. I had forgotten." It would delay this as well. Perhaps by then he would think of a way out of this. It really did smell!
The moment the grip on his arms loosened, Brethil yanked away quickly causing the other two to lose their balance. They teetered on the edge, arms flailing. Tavor splashed into the mud, followed by Legolas. Brethil's mouth fell open, and he clasped his hands on his cheeks.
"I am so sorry," he began. "I didn't mean for that to happen!" He saw the angry looks of shock and disbelief on their faces as they stood spluttering, covered from head to toe with the sticky filth. Their long hair hung in muddied strings about their faces, making their eyes stand out in contrast. "I really didn't mean-"
"You will pay for that, Brethil," Legolas growled, wiping his hand over his face in an attempt to rid it of the clinging muck, but he only succeeded in smearing it even more.
"I am so sorry," Brethil repeated, watching as they both grabbed handfuls of mud, preparing to fling it at him.
Suddenly the three froze instinctively as the sound of voices were heard, voices that belonged to people who might tell on them. And they were coming closer.
Brethil's eyes widened even more, and he leapt into the mud with the other two, earning him an annoyed stare from Tavor, whom he had inadvertently splashed.
"They wouldn't come this way," the first voice said. "They know they will get in trouble if they do."
"Which is exactly why we are checking here," the other one rejoined with a snort. "I will wager you my new arrows that they are here. If they are not, then you must. . . get your sister to kiss me!"
Talagan's laughter filled the air.
"Done!" he agreed. "Let us see who is correct."
The three young elves standing in the mud glanced uneasily at one another.
"Duck!" Legolas gasped, and he dropped down into the mud until just his eyes and nose were hovering over it.
Tavor grimaced, but did the same. Brethil's eyes moved from where Legolas was to where Tavor knelt, his brows knit with worry.
"I don't want to do this. My naneth will not be very happy with me."
Suddenly he felt hands grab his tunic on either side and he splashed down into the mud, feeling Legolas push his head under. He came up spluttering and spitting, but Legolas quickly shushed him, pointing to where Talagan and Glavrol were entering the grove. The three young elves instantly stilled, feeling grateful that the bank helped to hide them from the others' eyes.
"I told you," Talagan said, immediately covering his nose with his hand. "It smells so bad that they would come any closer than this."
Glavrol, not entirely happy that he had lost the wager, ventured a few steps closer before shaking his head, and backing away.
"Very well. You win. I would have know that it took me *hours* to make those arrows. So *don't* lose them!"
Talagan laughed once more, draping an arm over Glavrol's shoulders.
"Don't worry, I won't. I will even ask my sister to kiss you anyway. It is the least I can do for all the hard work you put into *my* arrows!"
Soon the two had vanished, the sound of their voices fading away.
"That was close," Tavor said, standing up, and glaring down at himself. "Look what you did, Brethil! Disgusting!" He wiped at the filth that coated him, glaring at his friend now.
"You shouldn't have tried to push me in," Brethil protested defensively.
"Just be quiet both of you!" Legolas scowled fiercely, not liking that his plan had gone so awry. Now what were they to do? He climbed out onto the grass, staring down at his own filthy clothing. At least it didn't seem to smell quite as bad as it had.
The other two clambered out to stand beside him, dripping slimy black and green mud onto the grass. Tavor was muttering under his breath, pushing at the mess that coated him when Legolas suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Don't!" he said with a flash of white teeth as he grinned. "We might as well go ahead and scare Laerlend. We won't get a second chance after this."
A slow grin spread over Tavor's face, and his dark grey eyes sparkled.
"Where is she?" he asked, feeling his high spirits return.
"Legolas, Tavor, I don't think-"
"Shut up, Brethil," the two said in unison, both turning to glare at him once more.
"This is all your fault, Brethil," Legolas said, moving away from the younger elf. "If you don't help us scare Laerlend then we will tell how you made us fall in the mud." Legolas didn't think Brethil would recall that they weren't supposed to be her in the first place, and he was not disappointed.
"But I didn't mean to!" Brethil began, starting after Legolas, his eyes filled with worry and remorse. "You know I didn't mean for you to fall in."
"That is not how my ada will see it," Legolas continued, trying to control his satisfied grin.
Tavor chuckled slightly, and headed after them.
"Where is Laerlend?" he repeated.
Legolas snorted, avoiding Brethil's pleading eyes.
"Having a tea party. What else?"
Tavor felt a thrill of excitement. If Laerlend were having a tea party then there would probably be other young females present. There would even be some older ones there as well, trying to sit gracefully in the too small chairs and Laerlend's too small table. They would be there in hopes of catching a glimpse of Legolas and his two brothers no doubt.
~And me! ~ Tavor thought happily.
"Come on then!" he called, sprinting ahead with a hoot of delight. "Let's go scare the girls!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*
In a small private garden protected by tall leafy hedges twined with honeysuckle Laerlend was indeed having a tea party. Her child-sized table was draped with a blue cloth embroidered with white daisies and purple asters. A vase of deepest emerald glass was filled with roses from her mother's garden, and her nurse Sellond had brought out her best tea set on an enameled tray of ruby red.
Laerlend's golden hair had been curled, the locks topped with a wreath of daisies. All of her guests were required to wear similar "crowns," some with roses, some with small sunflowers. But only Laerlend was allowed to wear the "Daisy Crown." The elf maidens seated with her ranged in age from the toddling Aurhwind, who had just learned to walk, to Laerlend's own peers, and even some older maidens like Mirithil. Laerlend knew that Mirithil was "sweet" on her brother Celebross. She wasn't entirely sure just what that phrase meant, she thought it must have something to do with sugar or honey, probably honey since Mirithil had some bees of her own. She also knew that when Mirithil and Celebross looked at one another their faces wore rather silly expressions. All the same though, Laerlend liked the tall, graceful Sylvan with her long brown hair. She always smelled very nice, and the child was certain that this had something to do with her being "sweet" on Celebross. She had seen them kissing once, when they thought no one was about. Laerlend had thought it very disgusting, though perhaps if Lord Glorfindel, the elf that fascinated her child's imagination most, were to kiss her cheek it might be rather nice.
There were two maidens here today that she knew liked her brother Aralith, though they weren't "sweet" on him because they did not treat him as Mirithil treated Celebross. They were always teasing him, especially about his fear of spiders. He was really quite ridiculous at times, shrieking "Spider! Spider!" if one were about, even the small ones that inhabited the high corners of the palace. Laerlend thought his behaviour ridiculous. One must never show fear. She never did. . . or not very often.
On this particular day she had a special guest as well. It seemed that Lord Elrond had traveled to Mirkwood for a brief visit, bringing his sons and his daughter with him. Laerlend was somewhat in awe of the elf- lord's beautiful daughter with her dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. She looked very nice dressed in a rich blue gown with her crown of tiny forget- me-nots. Thranduil's daughter regarded her with a small measure of jealousy though. She did after all know Lord Glorfindel personally, and she was very lovely to look at. Was Lord Glorfindel "sweet" on her perhaps? Laerlend hoped that it was not so.
Thranduil's daughter had poured out the tea into the dainty cups encircled with painted vines of ivy and tiny daisies. She was a most gracious and elegant hostess, and even served the beauty of Imladris first as was only proper when one had such an important guest. Laerlend sat now in her chair upon a blue cushion, its silver tassels so long that they brushed the grass at her feet. She was barefoot as was her wont, and she enjoyed the sensation of the cool blades of grass tickling her small toes. She listened in on all the conversations about her, noticing that Brui and Glinbara, Aralith's admirers were whispering to one another and giggling. Mirithil was holding a quiet conversation with Arwen, who was looking entirely too pretty for her own good, Laerlend decided. She had seated the older maidens near herself as it made her feel more grownup and sophisticated. She cleared her throat, which drew Mirithil's and Arwen's attention to her, as it should be. She was the hostess after all.
"Where are your brothers, Undomiel?" Laerlend asked in carefully modulated tones that seemed at odds with her child's voice and face. She felt very elegant calling Arwen Undomiel. She was not aware that Mirithil was smiling slightly at this. The older maiden knew very well how good Laerlend was at "putting on airs," and was amused to see her playing at it now. No one excelled at it better.
Arwen suppressed the smile that threatened, knowing that it might offend her hostess if she did allow it, and answered in like manner.
"I believe they went looking for your brothers. They did not wish to interrupt your party with their loud, disruptive behaviour. I would like to thank you once again for inviting me, Princess Laerlend. It is a lovely party. Do you have them very often?"
Laerlend watched as everyone at the table turned to look at her. The maiden of Imladris had a beautiful voice, and Laerlend wondered if she would perhaps sing a duet with her. One about Glorfindel would be nice, but she, Laerlend, would sing the lead part. The child smiled in what she thought was a gracious manner, and held a gentle conversation with her revered guest about the trials of having loud, disruptive brothers. This drew a twittering response from Brui and Glinbara, whom she didn't deign to notice.
"What is that smell?" Arwen asked, leaning over to whisper in Mirithil's ear as Laerlend turned to speak about good manners to Aurhwind, who had walked over to take a cookie from Laerlend's plate.
Mirithil sniffed the air, then wrinkled her nose.
"I do not know. Whatever it is, it smells terrible!"
A short time later as they were playing at "ladylike" games, Laerlend congratulated herself on the success of her little get-together. Little did she know that disaster was about to strike.
~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*
"There they are," Tavor whispered as he crouched behind the bushes, peering into the garden where the tea party was taking place. He quickly noted which females were present, quite pleased to see that some of the ones he favored were there. But then his eyes lit on someone he had never seen before. He gasped slightly, eye widening, his heart hammering in his chest. "Who is that?"
Legolas dropped to his knees at Tavor's side, one black, mud- encrusted hand easing aside the branches. He blinked in surprise.
"It's Arwen! Lord Elrond's daughter. Are they here? I wonder where the twins are?"
Brethil stood behind them, still frowning. He had heard tales about the twins, and all the mischief they managed to get themselves into.
"Legolas, I don't think this is a good idea. We are going to get in trouble!"
"Hush, Brethil. Get down! They will see you, and then we *will* be in trouble," Legolas hissed, yanking on Brethil's hand. He noted that Tavor was still staring at Arwen, a slightly glazed look on his face. "Tavor!" He hit the moonstruck elfling on the arm, his face filled with annoyance. He turned to watch the girls, as they played some silly game with a ball of Laerlend's, and sat eating "delicacies", and sipping warm tea. ~Females! ~ he thought with a shake of his head. He would never understand them. "On three," he whispered, a grin spreading over his face, as he checked to make certain that he had Tavor and Brethil's attention. "One. . . two . . ."
"Legolas, this is *not* a good idea," Brethil protested. "I don't' think - "
"THREE!"
With that shout, he pushed through the bushes, roaring and growling in what he hoped was a voice that a mud monster might make. Tavor followed after a second, trying to make his own noises sound manly and strong. After all, one had to impress that beautiful creature with blue flowers in her black hair. Brethil scowled, his brows knit, and then he sighed heavily.
"They never listen to me. Never."
He crawled out of the bushes, hearing the terrified shrieks of fear from the assembled females, who were now running about in a panic. It seemed that Legolas' trick had worked. Unfortunately he crawled right into Laerlend who was shrieking in confused outrage. The child's eyes fell on the black form crawling out of the leaves, her hazel eyes widening in fright, her pink mouth agape.
"ORCS! ORCS!!"
Brethil stood, and was about to apologize for startling her, and making her shriek as loud as her ada could, when Legolas and Tavor grabbed his arms, and laughing in high spirits, pulled him away. The repeated words spread panic in the other maidens, who were still running about, screaming. Only Mirithil and Arwen were not impressed, but stood laughing into their hands. Laerlend had leapt across the garden after being frightened by Brethil, holding her long skirts to her knees.
"ORCS! ORCS! THERE'S ORCS AT MY TEA PARTY! AAADDDDDDAAAAAAAA!!!"
TBC