Sorry this is so late everyone, I've been having loads of problems getting this to format properly and I didn't want you al to have to scroll sideways to read it because that is really bloody irritating. There is one last chapter after this, and I'm leaving it open for a sequel, so if you want me to carry it on, then tell me and I will. I'll post the last chapter on Thursday. I'm so flustered – I have literally been trying to post this since Thursday evening (BST) that can't think of anything rude or random to say.
~*~So It Begins~*~
The day began brightly, the sun ascending over the faraway mountain, leaving the whole of Rivendell basking in a hazy warm glow. A few light clouds littered the vast morning sky, but did little to dim the dawn. The cheery, harmonious song of the elves mingling with the sweet chirping of the birds and the gentle patter of the waterfalls restored the valley's tranquillity, which had been sorely missed by most. The wind had picked up considerably overnight, and was now extremely blustery, bending the vast branches and screeching through the young leaves.
It was the strong breeze that awoke him, gusting through the window, knocking a vase from the window ledge. His eyes flew open and saw the destruction. He moaned and closed his eyes again, but the wind continued to blow, sending a pile of parchments swirling around the room, the drapes of the four-poster bed flapped wildly, striking him in the face repeatedly. Reluctantly opening his eyes once more, he growled and slowly sat up. His stomach ached and his leg throbbed terribly, but he pulled himself onto his crutches, nevertheless. Limping across the room, the foot he could walk on, crunched into the fragments of porcelain, slicing into his skin painfully. He cursed under his breath at the bloodied footprints left behind as he edged toward the window. Leaning out of the window, he grunted as he grappled desperately for the latch, but another ferocious gust swung the open window crashing in, slamming his fingers between the frame and pane. Suppressing the urge to scream at the top of his lungs, he moaned softly, slumping into the nearby chair and nursed his fingers. They were bruising and swelling already, he was pretty sure that at least two of them were broken.
"How many invalids does it take to close a window?" He muttered bitterly to himself.
Estel scowled. The day was already doomed to be a total disaster for him. Crawling back into bed and hiding under the covers until it was all over seemed the best option. He reached back up and managed to pull the window shut without further injury; the room reverted to its calm state again, the shattered vase fragments lay scattered across the floor, spots of blood littered all over them with a couple of distinct footprints in the middle. The parchment settled around the room, pieces strewn across the bed and cool stone floor. Hobbling back to his feet, he glanced briefly in the mirror as he passed, and froze. Stepping back, he leaned toward the looking glass, his eyes widening in horror. His hair. Dirty streaks of blue and green mixed with his natural dark locks.
"L-" He cut himself off quickly, in the knowledge that Legolas would be waiting eagerly nearby for him to cry out.
Turning, he staggered into the bathroom and rummaged through the drawers and shelves, looking for some kind of herb or… anything that could be used in revenge. He sighed, nothing but a pail of water. A pail of water. It wasn't much, and was hardly of his pedigree, but it was something. Estel hoisted it up in the hand it could use. This was wonderful, he thought flatly. Only use of one hand and barely one leg, the inability to bend over far and to top it all off, Legolas had already got one over on him. Using one crutch to keep his balance on his right side, he abandoned the other and limped toward the door, which was fortunately open a crack and pulled a chair beside it. He leant on the knee of his bad leg, and manoeuvring the good leg onto the leather chair, he stood on it with almost adequate stability, sinking into the soft seat cushion. Pulling up the heavy bucket, he wobbled, but just about managed to balance the bucket at the top of the heavy oak door.
And with that, his footing went, letting out a peculiar high pitched sort of yelp as he tumbled down onto the chair first, and then toppled over the left arm. Whimpering as he crumpled in a heap on the floor with a dull thud, his legs flailed helplessly in the air and one arm stuck under his battered torso. He couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry and was in the full knowledge that he could not get up from his rather… unusual position.
"Good morning, Es-" Legolas' smug voice echoed from the corridor, with the door swinging open-
Crash.
Estel watched with glee from the floor as the pail came thundering down, soaking the elf from head to toe as planned. An unexpected bonus came as Legolas flew head over heals; tripping over the wooden crutch Estel had left standing against the chair. He laughed hysterically, his body shaking so hard that he smacked his head against the stone floor several times without noticing. Legolas lay there, stunned, silent and well… soaked.
"Y-your face!" He giggled. "You s-should see it! What a picture!" He continued, laughing so hard, his words shook.
He laughing muted as he noticed the stern faced figure of his father standing over them.
"What is going on? Why are you down there and why do you have… turquoise hair?" He asked Estel stiffly. "And why are you down there and why are you so… wet?" He turned to Legolas, who lay on his back, dripping.
"Good morning, father. I was just shutting the window." He mumbled, desperately trying not to laugh.
"Shutting the window?" He said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "And how pray, may I ask, did you manage to change hair colour, break a vase, scatter my notes, fall off a chair and bathe an elf, while shutting a window?" Elrond asked, his expression suspicious but eyes glinting with amused curiosity.
Elladan and Elrohir appeared in the doorway, and couldn't help but snigger at the sight; their brother, with a mixture of streaky blue and green locks, laid in a heap; propped between the chair and an old elm dresser, his broken leg leaning against the seat and the other – of which the foot was bleeding slightly, was precariously dithering mid-air, while their friend was on the other side of room, flat on his stomach, sodden and completely in shock.
"Well, I erm… That dastardly elf dyed my hair sometime in the night, and the wind blew over the vase and scattered the paper so all I really managed to do is fall off a chair and give Legolas a complementary shower… oh and shut my fingers in the window- well technically the wind did that so I do not know if you include that as a part of my actions, do you?" He rambled, still in a heap with both legs flapping around, his explanation meeting with muffled giggles from the twins.
"I see." He spoke with little emotion, as he lifted Estel from the floor carefully and plopped him back down in his bed. "You could have seriously injured yourself, Estel. No more wild stunts."
"If it helps, it was a spontaneous act of revenge." He smiled.
"No, it does not help. Most of your pranks are spontaneous, and each is more dangerous than the last. I mean it; you will not leave this bed."
"But-"
"Estel…" Elrond warned.
"Ada…" He copied his father's tone, trying to sound as mature as possible.
"You are not well enough, and look at your hand!" He exasperated.
The young boy's face fell to that of thunder. "That was the window's fault, not mine." He sulked. "Besides, I think the elf needs your attention more than me, he has barely moved since he erm… dropped in."
Legolas' head shot up, frowning deeply, water trickling down his forehead and dripping off the end of nose. "I am fine." He replied through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to throttle him.
Elrond looked down at him, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Yes, well… He seems physically intact, but I will have to sort out that hand. I will be back in a moment."
The elder elf stood, pushing his long dark hair over his shoulders and left, taking one last glance between the two of them. Estel smiled smugly, listening to his father's muffled snigger in the corridor before turning to Legolas, who had pulled himself to his feet and was currently ringing out his blonde locks.
"That – was – cheap." He growled slowly.
"You stole my old trick – that is cheap." He shot back.
Legolas smirked wickedly. "I did like that touch." He replied cockily.
Estel rolled his eyes. "If you cannot think of something original, then you are not fit to play the game." Estel said offhandedly, examining his damaged fingers. "You did not even mix it right, look at my hair – streaky and faded. Who told you how to do this anyway?"
"Gandalf."
"What?! How does he know?" His cry was strained with anger and confusion.
"You got drunk and told him and then I got him drunk and he told me." Legolas explained casually as he attempted to brush his hair. "You are hardly in a position to call me unoriginal. Bucket of water balanced on a door? A stick to trip me over? Inspired." He continued flatly.
"The tripping over bit was an expected pleasure, but have you seen the materials I have to work with? It was all I could do in five minutes; besides it was a small act of revenge, not a full scale operation." He defended fiercely.
"All is fair in love and war." The elf replied melodically, his smirk still painted across his pale face.
"You are going to wish you had never said that."
* * *
He was still sulking when Gandalf arrived to see him, pouting miserably as he fiddled with the thick bandaged wrapped tightly around his hand. Estel sat, bolstered by over stuffed pillows, in his bed, the uneven streaks of colour gleaming brightly in the late morning sun.
"There is no need to be glum." He smiled cheerily.
"No? I am forbidden to leave my bed, my hair is blue, I cannot use one leg, can barely stand on the other, I have broken three fingers, not to mention my supposed ally telling the enemy my methods." He growled, folding his arms irritably.
"Good gracious, who told Legolas that?" The wizard asked innocently.
"YOU!" Estel cried.
"I did not!"
"Legolas got you drunk and you told him how to make the dye."
"Oh." He replied flatly. "Really?"
"Yes, Gandalf." His frown deepening with each exchange. "But… you can make it up to me." His tone lightened a little.
"I can?"
"Yes." Estel answered firmly.
"Oh, good. How?" He smiled.
"If you go and get me these things from my room, then I will help you gain revenge on my family."
"That seems like a fair deal."
"Yes, which is more than you could manage on my birthday." The young boy narrowed his eyes accusingly.
"Yes, well erm… what do you want me to get?" He mumbled uncomfortably.
Estel handed him a list, which Gandalf examined carefully.
"Note that I have only described the vials and not the contents. They are under my bed in a small wooden trunk and make sure no one sees you in there." He explained sternly.
"What are in these vials may I ask?" Gandalf asked softly. "And what does that say? Your handwriting is disgraceful."
"No, you may not. Security reasons." His tone was apologetic, but firm. "And in regards to my handwriting, I have yet to master using my left hand, so you will have to bear with me; oh and that says 'Tall scarlet bottle with blue base' – I never use labels in case someone finds them."
"I am not sure if I want to get them if I do not know what they are." Gandalf crossed his arms childishly.
"Then I will not help you exact your revenge on them. Take it or leave it but you owe me, remember?" Estel growled.
They eyed each other warily for a moment, both as stubborn as each other, holding each other's glare with stony faces. There was a deathly silence between them, tense and irritable, before Gandalf broke into a warm smile.
"Of course I will." He laughed, tucking the paper into a pocket in his robes.
"Knew you would." Estel grinned. "And remember, be inconspicuous." He lowered his voice.
Gandalf nodded and turned, tiptoeing across the room, glancing from side to side repeatedly.
"Err… Gandalf?"
He spun his head around quickly, his hair swishing through the air.
"It is only a suggestion, but I think it would a little less obvious if you just walked normally." He said, a bemused smile lighting up his bruised face.
The wizard deflated a little, sinking back onto his heels. "Oh, right." He muttered.
* * *
Estel glanced down at his new arsenal with glee and a newfound confidence. Gandalf sat beside him, and handed over a towel to dry his newly washed hair.
"So, are you going to tell what all these things do yet?"
"Would you not like to wait for the surprise, grey pilgrim?" He grinned.
"I do not care for surprises."
"Fine. That one-"
"How is my colourful brother this after-" Elladan fell silent with disappointment. "Your hair… it is-"
"Normal again, yes." Estel chuckled.
"This is a conspiracy!" He exclaimed, stomping away angrily.
"Was it something I said?" The young boy grinned at the wizard.
"You were saying?" Gandalf asked, a gleeful excitement in his eyes, that he had rarely seen.
"Patience." He chided, trying his best to sound serious. "Wait, I cannot trust you, not after the way you betrayed me to that she-elf!"
The wizard roared with laughter, before his face fell and looked a little insulted. "I am trustworthy." He grumbled. "It was a little accident and will not happen again." He continued, sounding like a sulking little boy.
"No, I think it would be safer if only I knew my plans, but you must put this revenge mission against my family into practise soon."
"Are we using something from those substances?"
"No, it can be traced back to me too easily, and this will not be traced back to me, will it Gandalf?" Estel lowered his voice. "That was the deal."
"My lips are sealed." He promised, moving closer.
"Good, now, you know those small fireworks you have…"
* * *
A couple of hours passed and Gandalf had gone off to root around his belongings and do as Estel had instructed. The young boy was left alone, plotting between his father's brief visits to check his injuries before disappearing to greet his returning hunters. He poured the greyish powder carefully into the palm of his left hand, before closing it tightly, a sly grin creeping across his face as he heard the voices of his brother Elrohir and Legolas growing louder as they approached.
At that moment, they appeared through the door, smiling broadly, Legolas' smiled faded a little at the sight of Estel's newly undyed hair.
"How are you this afternoon, Estel?" Legolas asked sincerely.
"I am well, thank you, apart from being stuck in here of course." He smiled, glancing over the elf's shoulder to his brother, who winked.
"You will be up in no time. I must admit I am a little dismayed by your hair colour, but I knew you probably would be able to get rid of it."
"If you had done a good job of it, I may have kept it longer." Estel grinned.
"You are a little slow in your retaliation, I though-"
He cut short as Estel cried out in pain, clutching his stomach. Legolas leaned in with grave concern, asking what was wrong and telling him to lie back anxiously.
Instead however, much to elf's annoyance, the young boy grinned once more, eyes positively gleaming with mischief and blew the greyish dust straight into his face. Legolas flew back, desperately trying to wipe it off his face.
"You monster! What is th- ATTCCHHOOOOOO!"
Legolas sneezed so violently, he nearly lost his footing. He sneezed again and again, cursing the two brothers in between. They both laughed as the watched him stagger around the room, Elladan had just run in at the sound of the commotion and watched with morbid curiosity as Legolas seemed to panic more with each sneeze.
"Legolas, calm down." He tried to help, but their friend didn't listen.
Estel had stopped laughing, well, had stopped laughing so hard, abandoning the second phase of his plan and was trying to stop him stumbling into another wall. He wobbled more wildly and pushed away the twins, sneezing harder and more flamboyantly as it continued.
"Look… if you just-" The young boy tried to leading him to the bed. "…Calm down, it will stop sooner."
Legolas didn't calm down though, and sneezed even more vigorously, if that was possible. He swayed toward the fireplace, and sneezed again, this time, his head connecting with the large mantle with a sickening crack. Legolas slumped to floor, out cold, leaving the twins and Estel standing over him in a stunned silence.
"This was not really supposed to happen." Estel mumbled, wobbling on his crutches.
There was a low cough from behind, and Elrond stood in the doorway, looking far from pleased.
* * *
He moaned gently, his head throbbing painfully. Opening his eyes warily, he groaned, seeing a rather awkward looking Estel peering down at him.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, handing him an ice-pack.
"Stay away from me, I cannot vouch for your safety." He grumbled, swishing his fist around in an aimless attempt to hit him.
"That may be a problem. We have been locked in." He explained sheepishly.
"What?" He head shot up.
"Apparently we are troublemakers and so we have been banned from tonight's festivities."
Legolas moaned louder. "I hate you."
Estel sighed loudly. "Charming. It is not my fault you hit your head, besides, it is only Glorfindel who has returned, and would you really enjoy having to explain how who got that black eye to him?"
"Well I was looking forward to it and besides, I have no doubt that your brothers are regaling him with this very tale at this very moment." Legolas sighed. "And, yes, it is your fault, what was that horrible substance, by the way?" He asked angrily.
"It was only a mix of herbs and pepper – a sneezing powder. I have never seen anyone sneeze like that." He giggled. "You are lucky I took pity on you - it was only the first part."
"Well, I have rarely ever sneezed, funnily enough." Legolas sniffed.
"Oh… well, you still overreacted."
The blonde elf scowled, pressing a bag of ice against his black eye. "It was not fair: Elves do not sneeze."
"But I though all was fair in love and war, my dear Legolas." He grinned, avoiding a flying pillow.
"I cannot believe they locked us in, I am not a child!" He exclaimed.
Estel shrugged. "Well they have." He muttered unhelpfully. "I will be surprised if they find me alive, judging by the way you are looking at me." He laughed, patting Legolas on the leg cheerfully.
"So will I." He replied, worryingly with no humour.
TBC…
Do Elves sneeze? I haven't got a clue, if they do, I think it would be quite rare considering they don't get ill and I doubt they get hayfever somehow.
Thanks to my lovely reviewers as ever!
TigerLily713 – Speak English woman! I'm kidding, but: Ich habe ein grosse braun hunt! Beat that.
Dragonfly – I agree, that elf is nothing but a troublemaker, and that boy, he's just a runt.
Tithen Min – Ah, but you don't have to buy him, you could kidnap him for me. I could even loan him to you, we could hold him for a ransom – Japan would give us millions, so would Sven Goran Eriksson! It could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship… now where's my axe?
Hwoarang Girl – I love my Becks and I love my Jonny Wilkinson – top quality manflesh! Your Balrog-slaying wotsit is joining the story, just for you!
Legolas Stalker – I don't think you'll have much luck catching our Elf with a butterfly net, but do share if you manage to! (I'll throw in a box of chocolate and a copy of HP to make it worth your while)
Fayzie – Your pen name too damn long woman. Dave is a baby, he's my goddamn baby! Your baby David needs to get better quality pirate DVDs btw.
Sweet-n-sour-slytherin – If that Gollum thing makes sense to you, can you explain it to me, cos I'm lost.
Trustingfriendship – Well, they were angry, but would have probably forgiven him when they'd calmed down. Oh, and about that whole HP thing * cough * I didn't exactly postpone it (due to unforeseen circumstances) but that isn't why this is so late, honest.
Ele – Look darlin, I can blink and pout better than you! And I've got a cat who can pounce better than you, well erm… he probably can't, but that's not the point! Bring it on!
Leggylover03 – Maybe, maybe, I think that is more planned for the possible sequel though.
Lady Eleclya – I think tricks on each other first, although watch out for the Gandalf/Estel partnership.
