Disclaimer: It would be quicker to give you an inventory of the things I do own, rather than explain how little of LotR belongs to me.
Sorry it took so long; Writers Block of Ultimate Doom. I'll try make the next chapter funnier, just had to tie up a few loose ends :) thanks.
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Amidst the trees deep in the valley of Rhudaur, The House of Elrond gently stirred from its dreams. Heavy rays of light softly brushing past it, a warm reminder that now would be a good time to wake up. The inhabitants resigned to this fate, and blinked themselves back into a state of awareness. Though, remaining so was a difficult task, so difficult many of them drifted back to sleep, listening to the delicate trill of the dawn chorus.
'WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!'
'WHERE'S MY HORSE?!'
'WHERE ARE MY SOCKS?!'
Scattered across acres, as one the inhabitants of Imladris woke suddenly and stared in stunned silence at their ceilings, many wondering just why anyone would announce loosing their socks so loudly.
Elrond paced the hallways with no regard for elven grace. If he walked past an elf's room, the elf inside knew of it. As did those down the corridor.
Glorfindel stormed through the stables, the stable elves had evacuated themselves from his presence. If he made toast of a balrog, they dreaded to think of what fate he would think up for them.
Erestor sat on the edge of his bed, scowling at his sock drawer. They were gone; his socks had left him. Or someone had stolen them. But how? No one broke into Erestor's room without him knowing about it, especially not to steal his socks. He growled, stood up, and stalked out of his room.
~
'Lembas?'
'Check.'
'Miruvor?'
'Check.'
'Carrots?'
'Ch- Carrots?'
'For the horses.' Elrohir said, welcoming the pause in the stream of supplies Elladan was handing to him.
'Right.' Elladan nodded and rummaged through the pile of travelling necessities, 'Check.'
Elrohir dutifully took the carrots and stuffed them into the bag. 'So, where are we going this time?' he yawned. They had meant to set off their big adventure last night, but unfortunately Elrond had caught them and sent them to the Hall of Fire, in order for them to be sociable instead. Quite why Elrond had decided to throw a party for no apparent reason was undetermined, and so very few turned up just in case he started ranting about the end of the world again, and the rest didn't show themselves due to Lindir's singing. All in all it was a very boring night, sitting around the fire with Glorfindel and Erestor, throwing grapes at Lindir every time he threatened to sing, and then randomly throwing grapes at Lindir just because he was Lindir and they could throw grapes at him.
'Check.' Elladan's monotonous morning voice responded before he had the chance to register what his brother had said.
Elrohir sighed and pushed Elladan's arm. 'Wake up, 'Dan. I said where are we going, not pass the Lórien identity.' He took the brooches anyway; they were useful for evading the Lothlórien dress code.
'How about Rohan? We never go there.' Elladan volunteered.
'Rohans no fun, too many ponies. Gondor, maybe?'
Elladan shuddered, 'Gondor? Aren't you sick of that place?'
'I've never been there.' Elrohir pouted as he attempted to put all his weight onto the luggage in hope that that might make it close.
'I know, but you suffered Estel's "Gondor this, Gondor that!" for years.' Elladan watched the bag closely; waiting for the second it closed just enough to be fastened.
'All the more reason to go! You can't talk ceaselessly about somewhere for twenty years unless it's something special.' The bag grudgingly fell beneath Elrohir's weight.
Elladan pounced, 'It wasn't… twenty years… it was… curses… less than that…' he somehow managed to fix the straps around the protesting luggage, 'it only felt like twenty years.' He said, with a hint of pride.
'Fine.' Elrohir jumped backwards as the luggage spontaneously leapt at him. He quickly bundled it into his arms and tied it, with great difficulty, onto the back of his horse's saddle. 'I guess its Mirkwood again?'
'How about Lórien? We haven't seen the old folks in a while.'
'We haven't seen Círdan in even longer.' Elrohir remarked.
'If we go to the Havens we'll never be seen again, you know Círdan's out to rid Middle Earth of elves, he just hides behind the disguise of that "Go Really Fast Boat".'
'No one has confirmed that! He might be innocent. Or misguided.' Elrohir scowled. Always the great believer in justice for all.
'How about we just wander aimlessly?'
'And if anyone asks?'
'We're wandering aimlessly.'
Elrohir seemed to think over this for a while. 'Sounds good.' He said thoughtfully, before hopping lightly onto his horses back. Elladan smiled proudly at himself and his ingeniousness before he followed his brothers example and deftly leapt onto his own horse, resisting the urge to take a run up and swing himself onto the beast from the wrong side. Ai, that Mirkwood pretty-boy had no chance come next Imladris Sports Event.
Like shadows on a grey morning they escaped the valley, not that it was particularly difficult. All the elves appeared to be hidden away, though why Elrohir and Elladan couldn't determine, and when they did try to figure it out it merely turned into a match of who-can-insult-the-other-more. A difficult challenge when insulting someone who is all but your own reflection.
~
Three doors crashed open, three enraged elf-lords stormed into the hall, and in absence of innocent bystanders, three glares immediately latched onto each other.
'GLORFINDEL! Where is my daughter?!'
'ELROND! Where is my horse?!'
'ELBERETH! The floors cold!'
The mood was shattered as one of the proud elves suddenly took up a hobbit-like jig.
'Erestor, you're a fool.' Glorfindel remarked, throwing a scathing glare at his fellow advisor.
'That's forward coming from you, isn't it? Loosing your horse?' Elrond fumed.
'At least I haven't lost any of my offspring lately.' Glorfindel growled.
'Look who's the fool now; you don't have any children.' Erestor grumbled, his dance slowing down as he acclimatised to the stone floor.
'But I have socks.' Glorfindel said with spiteful smugness.
'But my horse doesn't try to murder me every given chance.'
'But my socks stay where I put them.'
'But my horse stays where I put h-.'
'That's enough!' Elrond cried, frantically waving his arms at his sides like an elf-child. 'Here we Dooming are, surrounded by the beginnings of an ultimate Doom, faced by our Doom, and all is coming to darkness, Doom, and destruction, and all you two can think of is your Dooming horses and socks!'
'Elrond! Calm yourself, five times in same sentence is not good for your reputation!' Glorfindel tried to soften his voice slightly, glancing around the hall fretfully. To his relief, Erestor had been the only witness to Elrond's sudden madness.
'Calm myself? Calm myself!' He shrieked, 'My daughter has gone missing, and you want me to calm myself?'
'That's the general idea, yes.' Glorfindel affirmed.
'I can't calm myself, Glorfindel! My daughter has gone missing, I have no idea where she might be, she's just gone, left me! Like her mother, she's just left me!'
'But didn't you throw a party when Celebrian left?' Erestor said thoughtfully.
'Celebrian wanted Rivendell to celebrate her departure!'
'I don't think she meant for it to be celebrated like that.' Glorfindel said quietly.
'And I think she wanted her departure to be celebrated before she left, rather than three seconds after she crossed the bridge.' Erestor added.
Elrond frowned, 'Yes well, Celebrian was different!'
'Is different, Elrond, Is. She still awaits you in the West.' Glorfindel grinned cruelly.
Elrond shuddered. 'Nevertheless, we aren't talking about Celebrian; Arwen is missing, and she might be in danger!'
Glorfindel sighed, 'Have you looked for her everywhere?'
'Yes!'
'Have you asked anyone else to look for her?' Glorfindel continued.
'Of course!'
Glorfindel nodded in acknowledgement, his golden brows knitted in thought. Arwen, Asfaloth, and Erestor's socks. They all went missing last night, and seemingly together, but when exactly? In the Hall? While they slept? Or early in the morning? And how? How could anyone sneak those three out of Imladris without help? And why? Who would steal a whiney elf-princess, a homicidal horse, and Erestor's socks? Glorfindel's mind ticked over all possibilities, not that it took long. How many possibilities could there be?
'Three.'
'What was that, Glorfindel?' Erestor asked, turning his attention away from Elrond, who was pacing the hall.
'Three.' He whispered again.
'Three?' Erestor repeated, looking increasingly worried. He had always assumed Elrond wasn't all there, the lord had good reason. But Glorfindel? He had always seemed so… Erestor paused that thought. Stubborn, arrogant, undead, narcissistic, blond: no, Glorfindel was far from normal.
'Yes! Three!' He cried, his eyes unglazed to reveal a sudden flame of inspiration. 'I think I understand!'
'That's… good.'
'It all fits!' He grinned.
'Right there in between two and four.'
Glorfindel frowned at his fellow advisor. 'You're a fool, Erestor. But, three! Everything is happening in threes! Arwen, Asfaloth, your socks - three things taken from us three! Us three, the three most important elves in Rivendell, our three most prized possessions!'
'My socks aren't exactly my most prized possession, and I don't think Arwen would take kindly to being seen as a 'possession'.'
'All right, the three things most important to us!'
'The sock thing, again.' An eyebrow raised. Erestor obviously had been a student of Elrond's School of Eyebrow Raising, and at some point in his training had surpassed the master. It very nearly merged into his hairline.
'Regardless, I think I understand what's going on!'
'How so?'
'I'm not sure yet, but I will understand. Let me think some more.' Glorfindel mumbled and slowly wandered across the hall, arms folded with one hand raised to his chin, his eyes set on the ground.
Erestor shook his head wearily and directed his attention back to his lord, who had apparently been eavesdropping on his and Glorfindels conversation.
'Three?' Elrond asked, tilting his head slightly to one side.
'I don't understand, either, my Lord. I think our friend is a little confused.' Erestor shrugged.
'He probably just misses his horse.' Elrond said nonchalantly, as he too made his way out of the hall. Erestor nodded in agreement, Elrond was probably right. Glorfindel missed his horse, Elrond missed his daughter, and Elbereth, did Erestor miss his socks. The floors of Imladris were cold. So very cold.
~
By now, an ordinary butler would have been dozing in a corner as his lord repeated information he had already heard to another, but Galion was no ordinary butler. He listened to every word. If butlers needed kings, Galion would have been the Butlerking. He was the butler to end all butlers. A Galion by any other name would be as butlerish. No word his lord spoke escaped him.
'… and that is why I want you to go, son.' Thranduil confirmed. Galion clicked his tongue irritably. He missed the reason, again.
The prince sat for a moment in thought, not yet ready to settle anything. 'Why aren't you going?' Legolas asked eventually. 'Would you not be of greater use to him?'
Thranduil sighed heavily. 'Elrond's land has been taken by something, some creature, some force; he sent to me this plea for help - ' He dropped the paper onto the desk before Legolas, the prince glanced cautiously up at his father, '- We must answer, but we must keep our own defences strong. Mirkwood will need its king before the end, lest it will fall as Imladris has. That is why, I am asking you to go to Rivendell for me. You are the best help I can offer, second only to myself.' He said, his voice low and authoritative.
Both Thranduil and Galion watched Legolas closely as he unfolded the parchment, waiting for the prince's reaction.
He blinked.
'Will you go to him, Legolas?' Thranduil asked softly, his voice barely cutting through the silence.
The prince inhaled deeply, and shut his eyes against the world for a moment before responding. 'I must.' He said gravely, and looked back up to his father. Thranduil's mouth twitched into a proud smile.
'Thank you.' He clapped a hand onto his son's shoulder.
'It is my pleasure, and my duty.' Legolas nodded, and clapped a hand onto his father's shoulder; an agreement sealed.
Galion grinned proudly, and hugged the papers he carried to his chest. For the first time in years, Thranduil was ruling Mirkwood like the king he was, with Legolas at his side. For the first time in many years, the royalty of Mirkwood had come to a decision on their own, for the first time in years, Galion hadn't had to push them in the right direction.
'Well done, my lords.' He whispered softly, and scuttled out of the room to deliver Thranduil's letters.
~
Well that was rude. No breakfast. Why did no one bring him breakfast? He pawed the ground irritably. He wanted breakfast, and by Nahar if he didn't get breakfast soon…
'NEEEEEEEEEH!!'
The cry echoed through the valley, just as it did every morning. Only, this time, Master wasn't there to hear it.
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