Okay I got this computer cat from meowmix.com, makes a wonderful writing buddy. Especially when he/she chases your mouse around. Okay guess you guys don't care, you just want to her about dear Legolas. RIGHT?
THANKS XxLadyGreyxX For your help with Aragorn's, and Legolas' height! PuckRobyn for TRYING to help me. Thanks you two.
Don't sue me, I know I don't own LOTR.
___
A month and a half later, Thranduil finally arrived. Some of the Rivendell residence murmurs about how he took his sweet time to get there. They all knew it was only a four day trip between cities, six with Orcs patrolling. The king of Mirkwood held his head high, pretending not to hear the remarks. Thranduil believed he had a kingly right to put off his fatherly duties. In short, he believed he'd make Legolas soft, coming to his need every time Legolas needed him.
Walking up the stairs to Elrond's home, he comes face to face with a kindly servant. From her mouth came a beautiful elvish song, ringing out into the gay day. Thranduil scowls, and grabs her arm.
"I'm looking for my son, Legolas."
The woman jumps, then bows low. "King Thranduil, it's a pleasure."
"My son."
"Oh sorry, he's in the chambers, down the hall and to the right, then keep going 'till you hear Elrohir and Elladan."
Thranduil glares at the woman's vague instructions, then walks off. He didn't have time to straighten up the servant. Typical of Elrond to run a loose staff around his house. Treating everyone as if they were his close relatives.
"Oh, King Thranduil." The servant spoke up.
"What?" Thranduil stopped, but didn't turn around.
"Careful of pranks, both sons are now well enough to move around." There was a hint of laughter in her voice.
With no thank you, Thranduil walks away from the servant. Unfortunately Aragorn approaches from around the corner, a tray filled with bad food in his hands. The only thing the servant can do is cringe as Aragorn and Thranduil collide.
Food drips down the front of Thranduil, ruining his tunic. Aragorn steps back, at a loss for words, but before he could apologize Thranduil's hand was across the face. A snap was heard through the hall, Aragorn fell to the floor. The servant squeaked, covering her mouth.
The king of Mirkwood was known for his temper, so the servant knew not approach him. She dares not check to see if Aragorn remained alive either. Best chance for her and Aragorn's survival was to find Lord Elrond. Hopefully he was still in the garden.
Not hearing the servant leave, Thranduil grabs Aragorn by his shoulders. Not caring how the child whimpered as he picks Aragorn off the floor. He was definitely one of the sons of Elrond. Thranduil shakes the limp Aragorn angrily.
"You think this is FUNNY?" Thranduil screams.
Terrified, Aragorn remains silent. His arms ached from the grip Thranduil had on him, and the world was shaking like a rockslide. All his five foot two inches, was nothing compared to Thranduil's six foot five and a half inch frame.
"ANSWER ME, is this FUNNY!?" Thranduil asks once again.
Aragorn tries to answer but his jaw refused to listen. All he got was pain, no sound. Thranduil tightens his grip on Aragorn, causing him to whimper.
"I take it you do find this funny!" Thranduil slams Aragorn into the wall.
Aragorn head snaps back into the wall with a sickening crack.
"Let go of my son Thranduil." Elrond speaks from down the hallway, his voice low and warning.
The king of Mirkwood doesn't move. Weakly, Aragorn's eyes flutter and roll around. He was losing the fight with unconsciousness, unconsciousness that kept Thranduil from killing him. Thranduil pushes Aragorn higher up on the wall still done.
In less than a second, the razor sharp blade of Elrond's fine elven sword is at Thranduil's throat. Thranduil glares over at the lord of Rivendell, who's face was stone cold and emotionless. Glowering, Thranduil ignores Elrond, he wouldn't kill him.
Taking the risk, Thranduil raises Aragorn as high off the ground as his reach allowed. The cloth of Aragorn's clothes giving off a protesting hiss against the wall. Elrond's sword pushes upward into the top of Thranduil's neck, and blood begins to trickle down. He was not bluffing, his sons meant everything to him.
"What would Celebr*n think of this violence against a higher elf, Elrond?" Thranduil asks, playing on Elrond's sensitive spot.
"My wife would agree with me Thranduil," Elrond's voice remains calm. "She'd probably do the same in my place. And don't think you're higher Thranduil, and I know you know what I'm talking about."
"You talking about the piddly ring in your possession," Tranduil spat out. "In my opinion, Gil-Galad could have given the ring to a better elf... A full blooded TRUE elf."
With that said, Thranduil drops Aragorn, storming away to find his son. Of course only to run into some angry elf guards, who witnessed most of the conversation. Thranduil turns to Elrond again.
"Let me go, you have your son, now I want mine." Thranduil spat.
Elrond looks up from barely catching his son before he hit the floor, his eyes still cold, and showing his definite anger. Aragorn lay in his arms, Thranduil's hands imprinted into his arms by ugly bruises. His face was also swollen, probably also has a nasty concussion from Thranduil slamming him against the wall.
"Take him to the garden, keep him there, I will send his son to him when Legolas returns." Elrond commanded to the troops. "And for your information I wasn't talking about Vilya, I was talking about my respect for LIFE."
Without another word Elrond walks away with Aragorn in his arms. With a glance of their lord they grab Thranduil and pull him towards the gardens. Not caring how much humiliation they put him under.
****
Hours later, all hope for Aragorn's survival remained little, as the injuries were assessed. Fears of a father were confirmed as Elrond checked over the back of his son's skull. Thranduil had indeed broken the back of Aragorn's head. Now it was up to Aragorn when, and if, he'd wake up.
Elrond strokes his sons hand, staring into the comatose face of his adopted son. A white bandage held shut Aragorn's relocated jaw, tied up top his fragile skull. All this over a ruined tunic.
"How is he?" An elf asks from the door.
"No change." Elrond chokes.
"Some of the elves and I made this for Aragorn."
Elrond turns around as a silver helmet is handed to Elrond. Startled Elrond takes the helmet. It was carefully made for a situation like this, but how did they know how large to make it?
"Thank you, but how did you know how large to make it?" Elrond decides to ask.
"Well," the elf looks sheepish. "The twins put Aragorn's head through the wall twice two weeks ago, we used that."
"Thank you, I feel Aragorn has a better chance." Elrond pauses. "Shall we see how it fits?"
Elrond stands up, and with the elf's help, he slides the helmet under Aragorn's head. Then carefully they secured it to his head, taking the weight off the two broken parts of his skull, thus increasing the chance that Aragorn wouldn't have lasting brain damage.
"Well, it fits nicely, I'll have to thank the twins." Elrond forces a smile.
"He'll make it through, he's as stubborn as his father... BOTH his fathers."
That was true, he was stubborn. Elrond runs a hand down Aragorn's arm, feeling the elf touch his shoulder then leave. Kissing Aragorn lightly on the forehead, Elrond returns to his chair. He would not leave his son alone till he awoke... Or died.
****
An elf burst into camp at a break neck pace, nearly trampling Elladan. Legolas grabs his bow, arming it instinctively. The elf pulls his horse to a stop. Elladan pulls himself to his feet, still favoring the leg that was broken awhile go. Stepping in front of Legolas, Elrohir faces the elf, an elf he remembered clearly for all his hours teasing him.
"Viiresse, what is the reason for this unexpected intrusion?" Elladan asks.
"Something has happened in Rivendell." Viiresse spills out. "We need to start back right away."
"But it's dark, it's safer to wait 'till day break." Legolas intervenes.
"Daybreak is an hour away, but even an hour is too great of a time to waste. We need to get back NOW, or you might be too late."
"Too late for what?" Elrohir asks.
Viiresse shakes his head, he couldn't say. Elrohir walks over to a tree were the horses were tied, untying his and Elladan's horse.
"We're coming."
~
It was after daybreak when at last Rivendell was in sight. Viiresse eased up the pace when no other elves hurried to him with bad news. As for the others, he could sense the change in their behavior. They now knew what dark cloud hung over Rivendell.
Indeed Elrohir, Elladan, and Legolas sensed something wrong as the neared Rivendell. Such a heavy feeling only meant trouble. The only other time the twins felt this feeling was when their mother left.
"Viiresse, please tell me what is wrong here?" Elrohir pleads.
"It's Aragorn. He's been severely injured, but none of the elves moved to give us bad news, so he still lives for now."
"For now?" Elladan nearly shouts in horror.
Kicking up their horses faster, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas behind them made their way to the house, a feeling of dread filling them with every sorrowful look they were given.
***
Ooooo what happens now?
THANKS XxLadyGreyxX For your help with Aragorn's, and Legolas' height! PuckRobyn for TRYING to help me. Thanks you two.
Don't sue me, I know I don't own LOTR.
___
A month and a half later, Thranduil finally arrived. Some of the Rivendell residence murmurs about how he took his sweet time to get there. They all knew it was only a four day trip between cities, six with Orcs patrolling. The king of Mirkwood held his head high, pretending not to hear the remarks. Thranduil believed he had a kingly right to put off his fatherly duties. In short, he believed he'd make Legolas soft, coming to his need every time Legolas needed him.
Walking up the stairs to Elrond's home, he comes face to face with a kindly servant. From her mouth came a beautiful elvish song, ringing out into the gay day. Thranduil scowls, and grabs her arm.
"I'm looking for my son, Legolas."
The woman jumps, then bows low. "King Thranduil, it's a pleasure."
"My son."
"Oh sorry, he's in the chambers, down the hall and to the right, then keep going 'till you hear Elrohir and Elladan."
Thranduil glares at the woman's vague instructions, then walks off. He didn't have time to straighten up the servant. Typical of Elrond to run a loose staff around his house. Treating everyone as if they were his close relatives.
"Oh, King Thranduil." The servant spoke up.
"What?" Thranduil stopped, but didn't turn around.
"Careful of pranks, both sons are now well enough to move around." There was a hint of laughter in her voice.
With no thank you, Thranduil walks away from the servant. Unfortunately Aragorn approaches from around the corner, a tray filled with bad food in his hands. The only thing the servant can do is cringe as Aragorn and Thranduil collide.
Food drips down the front of Thranduil, ruining his tunic. Aragorn steps back, at a loss for words, but before he could apologize Thranduil's hand was across the face. A snap was heard through the hall, Aragorn fell to the floor. The servant squeaked, covering her mouth.
The king of Mirkwood was known for his temper, so the servant knew not approach him. She dares not check to see if Aragorn remained alive either. Best chance for her and Aragorn's survival was to find Lord Elrond. Hopefully he was still in the garden.
Not hearing the servant leave, Thranduil grabs Aragorn by his shoulders. Not caring how the child whimpered as he picks Aragorn off the floor. He was definitely one of the sons of Elrond. Thranduil shakes the limp Aragorn angrily.
"You think this is FUNNY?" Thranduil screams.
Terrified, Aragorn remains silent. His arms ached from the grip Thranduil had on him, and the world was shaking like a rockslide. All his five foot two inches, was nothing compared to Thranduil's six foot five and a half inch frame.
"ANSWER ME, is this FUNNY!?" Thranduil asks once again.
Aragorn tries to answer but his jaw refused to listen. All he got was pain, no sound. Thranduil tightens his grip on Aragorn, causing him to whimper.
"I take it you do find this funny!" Thranduil slams Aragorn into the wall.
Aragorn head snaps back into the wall with a sickening crack.
"Let go of my son Thranduil." Elrond speaks from down the hallway, his voice low and warning.
The king of Mirkwood doesn't move. Weakly, Aragorn's eyes flutter and roll around. He was losing the fight with unconsciousness, unconsciousness that kept Thranduil from killing him. Thranduil pushes Aragorn higher up on the wall still done.
In less than a second, the razor sharp blade of Elrond's fine elven sword is at Thranduil's throat. Thranduil glares over at the lord of Rivendell, who's face was stone cold and emotionless. Glowering, Thranduil ignores Elrond, he wouldn't kill him.
Taking the risk, Thranduil raises Aragorn as high off the ground as his reach allowed. The cloth of Aragorn's clothes giving off a protesting hiss against the wall. Elrond's sword pushes upward into the top of Thranduil's neck, and blood begins to trickle down. He was not bluffing, his sons meant everything to him.
"What would Celebr*n think of this violence against a higher elf, Elrond?" Thranduil asks, playing on Elrond's sensitive spot.
"My wife would agree with me Thranduil," Elrond's voice remains calm. "She'd probably do the same in my place. And don't think you're higher Thranduil, and I know you know what I'm talking about."
"You talking about the piddly ring in your possession," Tranduil spat out. "In my opinion, Gil-Galad could have given the ring to a better elf... A full blooded TRUE elf."
With that said, Thranduil drops Aragorn, storming away to find his son. Of course only to run into some angry elf guards, who witnessed most of the conversation. Thranduil turns to Elrond again.
"Let me go, you have your son, now I want mine." Thranduil spat.
Elrond looks up from barely catching his son before he hit the floor, his eyes still cold, and showing his definite anger. Aragorn lay in his arms, Thranduil's hands imprinted into his arms by ugly bruises. His face was also swollen, probably also has a nasty concussion from Thranduil slamming him against the wall.
"Take him to the garden, keep him there, I will send his son to him when Legolas returns." Elrond commanded to the troops. "And for your information I wasn't talking about Vilya, I was talking about my respect for LIFE."
Without another word Elrond walks away with Aragorn in his arms. With a glance of their lord they grab Thranduil and pull him towards the gardens. Not caring how much humiliation they put him under.
****
Hours later, all hope for Aragorn's survival remained little, as the injuries were assessed. Fears of a father were confirmed as Elrond checked over the back of his son's skull. Thranduil had indeed broken the back of Aragorn's head. Now it was up to Aragorn when, and if, he'd wake up.
Elrond strokes his sons hand, staring into the comatose face of his adopted son. A white bandage held shut Aragorn's relocated jaw, tied up top his fragile skull. All this over a ruined tunic.
"How is he?" An elf asks from the door.
"No change." Elrond chokes.
"Some of the elves and I made this for Aragorn."
Elrond turns around as a silver helmet is handed to Elrond. Startled Elrond takes the helmet. It was carefully made for a situation like this, but how did they know how large to make it?
"Thank you, but how did you know how large to make it?" Elrond decides to ask.
"Well," the elf looks sheepish. "The twins put Aragorn's head through the wall twice two weeks ago, we used that."
"Thank you, I feel Aragorn has a better chance." Elrond pauses. "Shall we see how it fits?"
Elrond stands up, and with the elf's help, he slides the helmet under Aragorn's head. Then carefully they secured it to his head, taking the weight off the two broken parts of his skull, thus increasing the chance that Aragorn wouldn't have lasting brain damage.
"Well, it fits nicely, I'll have to thank the twins." Elrond forces a smile.
"He'll make it through, he's as stubborn as his father... BOTH his fathers."
That was true, he was stubborn. Elrond runs a hand down Aragorn's arm, feeling the elf touch his shoulder then leave. Kissing Aragorn lightly on the forehead, Elrond returns to his chair. He would not leave his son alone till he awoke... Or died.
****
An elf burst into camp at a break neck pace, nearly trampling Elladan. Legolas grabs his bow, arming it instinctively. The elf pulls his horse to a stop. Elladan pulls himself to his feet, still favoring the leg that was broken awhile go. Stepping in front of Legolas, Elrohir faces the elf, an elf he remembered clearly for all his hours teasing him.
"Viiresse, what is the reason for this unexpected intrusion?" Elladan asks.
"Something has happened in Rivendell." Viiresse spills out. "We need to start back right away."
"But it's dark, it's safer to wait 'till day break." Legolas intervenes.
"Daybreak is an hour away, but even an hour is too great of a time to waste. We need to get back NOW, or you might be too late."
"Too late for what?" Elrohir asks.
Viiresse shakes his head, he couldn't say. Elrohir walks over to a tree were the horses were tied, untying his and Elladan's horse.
"We're coming."
~
It was after daybreak when at last Rivendell was in sight. Viiresse eased up the pace when no other elves hurried to him with bad news. As for the others, he could sense the change in their behavior. They now knew what dark cloud hung over Rivendell.
Indeed Elrohir, Elladan, and Legolas sensed something wrong as the neared Rivendell. Such a heavy feeling only meant trouble. The only other time the twins felt this feeling was when their mother left.
"Viiresse, please tell me what is wrong here?" Elrohir pleads.
"It's Aragorn. He's been severely injured, but none of the elves moved to give us bad news, so he still lives for now."
"For now?" Elladan nearly shouts in horror.
Kicking up their horses faster, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas behind them made their way to the house, a feeling of dread filling them with every sorrowful look they were given.
***
Ooooo what happens now?