Disclaimer: Recognizable characters, places, concepts, and events are the
property of the J.R.R. Tolkien estate.
Author's Notes: This is a very short chapter, but I've updated sooner than expected. Legolas appeared on my daily calendar this morning, so I figured I'd update in honor of that.
This story is rated for angst, which is over for the most part. This is another "G" chapter.
Many repeated thank-you's go to Sammy, Galadriel Lorien, Antigone, Queen of Shadows, and Dragon-of-the-North for their reviews on Ch. 6. I simply adore reading all of your comments! Keep them coming! And the rest of you who are reading (and I know you're out there): I'd love to hear from you too!
Galadriel: No water here, maybe later. Glad you like it!
Dragon: I'm so happy that you like my OCs! I didn't want them to seem overly perfect or shallow...am I doing all right?
Everyone else: No, I won't kill Thilómë. You can all breathe again.
Your reviews, comments, and questions are always welcome!
---Aranel
aranels@hotmail.com
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~
Chapter 7
Aldandil walked down the hallway, singing to himself and fingering his bow. Fall Feasting had ended a week ago, but the woods were still beautiful. He had spent the day riding through the trees with a hunting party, enjoying the falling scarlet and golden leaves. It had been an excellent day, and he had been reluctant to leave the forest. He'd be stuck inside tomorrow, sitting in on the court with his parents. Still humming, he passed their room, surprised to hear their voices.
Stopping, Aldandil shouldered his bow. Since they were there, he might as well say good night.
"...avoiding it, but it's getting harder," he heard his mother's voice as he pressed his hand to the door.
Aldandil stepped back, not sure he should intrude. His father's voice answered, soft and concerned, "I won't hinder you, Thilómë."
"No, I cannot," Naneth sounded tired, but defiant, "I..I cannot. Not yet." Disturbed, Aldandil decided to leave them alone. Whatever they were talking about was not meant for his ears, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it anyway.
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~
Thranduil took a quick sideways glance towards his sons. It was quite obvious that neither of them wanted to be there. Aldandil sat straight and stoical in his chair, staring at some spot on the wall behind the elf speaking. He certainly looked stately, draped in flowing dark brown robes, a silver circlet on his silver head; but it was clear that he was bored. Hah! Thranduil himself was bored. He shifted his eyes to Legolas. After nearly falling face down in his cereal this morning, the elfling was more awake and appeared to be busying himself with trying to stare at the end of his nose. Thranduil sighed inwardly. There was nothing like having a cross- eyed child in the middle of court.
Aldandil looked from the wall to the speaker, then back to the wall. He wasn't really interested in whatever the elf was talking about. The snatches of conversation he'd overheard last night had been plaguing his mind, although he'd tried to dismiss them. What was weighing so heavily on Naneth? He would have to ask her. It was probably nothing, but it would be a relief to have her tell him so.
Legolas concentrated, oblivious to everything going on around him. The tip of his nose had to be there somewhere...he just couldn't see it. Frustrated, he relaxed his eyes and brought his hands to his face. Yes, there it was. Keeping a finger on it, he looked down again. There was his finger, but no nose. This was certainly irritating! How was he supposed to lick his nose if he couldn't even see it?
Thilómë listened patiently to the elf speaking. She didn't sit in on court often, but every so often it became a family affair. Besides, this was a messenger from Imladris, and she had a few important questions to ask him. She took a moment to check on Legolas. What was he doing?
Aldandil had a hard time restraining himself from smiling, much less bursting out in laughter. Legolas sat in the chair next to him, in a rather undignified position, his tongue stretched out and curling up towards his nose. If that wasn't bad enough, the elfling's eyes were about as crossed as they could get.
Where was it?! Legolas shifted in his chair, trying to get a better view. Utterly annoyed, he pressed the end of his nose down with his finger. Ah, success at long last!
"Legolas," Aldandil hissed, still trying to contain his amusement. It was his fault, after all, that this was happening. He'd only mentioned it at breakfast. Giving his brother a slight warning look, Aldandil glanced around the room. The eyes of more than one counselor were on Legolas, who hadn't gotten the hint.
"King Thranduil?" the elf who was speaking suddenly stopped in the middle of his address, "What exactly is your son doing?"
All eyes were immediately riveted on a very small blond elf turned sideways in a very large chair.
Thranduil shook his head, tapping his fingers on his oaken staff. He finally met the eyes of the visiting elf, "He got porridge on his face this morning. We must have missed a spot."
Author's Notes: This is a very short chapter, but I've updated sooner than expected. Legolas appeared on my daily calendar this morning, so I figured I'd update in honor of that.
This story is rated for angst, which is over for the most part. This is another "G" chapter.
Many repeated thank-you's go to Sammy, Galadriel Lorien, Antigone, Queen of Shadows, and Dragon-of-the-North for their reviews on Ch. 6. I simply adore reading all of your comments! Keep them coming! And the rest of you who are reading (and I know you're out there): I'd love to hear from you too!
Galadriel: No water here, maybe later. Glad you like it!
Dragon: I'm so happy that you like my OCs! I didn't want them to seem overly perfect or shallow...am I doing all right?
Everyone else: No, I won't kill Thilómë. You can all breathe again.
Your reviews, comments, and questions are always welcome!
---Aranel
aranels@hotmail.com
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~
Chapter 7
Aldandil walked down the hallway, singing to himself and fingering his bow. Fall Feasting had ended a week ago, but the woods were still beautiful. He had spent the day riding through the trees with a hunting party, enjoying the falling scarlet and golden leaves. It had been an excellent day, and he had been reluctant to leave the forest. He'd be stuck inside tomorrow, sitting in on the court with his parents. Still humming, he passed their room, surprised to hear their voices.
Stopping, Aldandil shouldered his bow. Since they were there, he might as well say good night.
"...avoiding it, but it's getting harder," he heard his mother's voice as he pressed his hand to the door.
Aldandil stepped back, not sure he should intrude. His father's voice answered, soft and concerned, "I won't hinder you, Thilómë."
"No, I cannot," Naneth sounded tired, but defiant, "I..I cannot. Not yet." Disturbed, Aldandil decided to leave them alone. Whatever they were talking about was not meant for his ears, and he wasn't sure he wanted to hear it anyway.
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~
Thranduil took a quick sideways glance towards his sons. It was quite obvious that neither of them wanted to be there. Aldandil sat straight and stoical in his chair, staring at some spot on the wall behind the elf speaking. He certainly looked stately, draped in flowing dark brown robes, a silver circlet on his silver head; but it was clear that he was bored. Hah! Thranduil himself was bored. He shifted his eyes to Legolas. After nearly falling face down in his cereal this morning, the elfling was more awake and appeared to be busying himself with trying to stare at the end of his nose. Thranduil sighed inwardly. There was nothing like having a cross- eyed child in the middle of court.
Aldandil looked from the wall to the speaker, then back to the wall. He wasn't really interested in whatever the elf was talking about. The snatches of conversation he'd overheard last night had been plaguing his mind, although he'd tried to dismiss them. What was weighing so heavily on Naneth? He would have to ask her. It was probably nothing, but it would be a relief to have her tell him so.
Legolas concentrated, oblivious to everything going on around him. The tip of his nose had to be there somewhere...he just couldn't see it. Frustrated, he relaxed his eyes and brought his hands to his face. Yes, there it was. Keeping a finger on it, he looked down again. There was his finger, but no nose. This was certainly irritating! How was he supposed to lick his nose if he couldn't even see it?
Thilómë listened patiently to the elf speaking. She didn't sit in on court often, but every so often it became a family affair. Besides, this was a messenger from Imladris, and she had a few important questions to ask him. She took a moment to check on Legolas. What was he doing?
Aldandil had a hard time restraining himself from smiling, much less bursting out in laughter. Legolas sat in the chair next to him, in a rather undignified position, his tongue stretched out and curling up towards his nose. If that wasn't bad enough, the elfling's eyes were about as crossed as they could get.
Where was it?! Legolas shifted in his chair, trying to get a better view. Utterly annoyed, he pressed the end of his nose down with his finger. Ah, success at long last!
"Legolas," Aldandil hissed, still trying to contain his amusement. It was his fault, after all, that this was happening. He'd only mentioned it at breakfast. Giving his brother a slight warning look, Aldandil glanced around the room. The eyes of more than one counselor were on Legolas, who hadn't gotten the hint.
"King Thranduil?" the elf who was speaking suddenly stopped in the middle of his address, "What exactly is your son doing?"
All eyes were immediately riveted on a very small blond elf turned sideways in a very large chair.
Thranduil shook his head, tapping his fingers on his oaken staff. He finally met the eyes of the visiting elf, "He got porridge on his face this morning. We must have missed a spot."
