Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any related people and
places.
Golden Rose: Hey, it's out in general release! Heh heh heh. . .Happy Christmas, if I did translate the French bit properly (technically I'm an atheist and my family is "Jewish"--not a single Bar or Bat Mitzvah in generations, but I get to celebrate Christmas, as well, so why not let it be happy? And it can be happy even for those who don't celebrate it!)
Furious: To begin with, although masochism has become more popular over recent years I believe it has gone on throughout history. I understand that you don't feel the Elves would do that sort of thing, but that's just it-- some people know they are going to do these things and no one, not even their own parents, will believe them. Which one is James Joyce again? I'm not so good with contemporary authors. Yes, the way I write it is a psychological disorder--because that's what masochism is. It isn't some hobby for bored people, it isn't healthy, and it isn't normal, it is a disorder of the mind. By the way, when you said "if this is an original story", were you saying that I plagiarized it? If so, I had no intentions of any such action and apologize to whomever's story I copied.
Cheysuli: Thranduil is going to behave in a manner befitting his character. In other, plainer words, you'll just have to wait and see! Elrohir is my borderline perfect character--whatever he feels, he knows how to swallow it and act rationally. I know when the movie opens--well, opened. Gollum sings!! And he keeps the beat with a fishy! And Elrond makes Arwen cry. Anyway, I'll stop ruining it for you.
Joey: I'm sorry I made you cry and brought back bad memories. That's not what I was trying to do. Also, do not worry about Elrohir, because he will not fail. I didn't mean that remark to offend anyone; it was just a careless thing I said a joke. I'm not against any slash, but let's face it-- a flamer like mine would writer really, really bad slash most likely. Sorry you were offended, it was not intentional or the remark fully meant. I'll be more careful next time.
Carol Stevenson: Well, one might imagine princes have more trouble then any, and princesses as well--Elizabeth Tudor, for example. No matter what anyone appears, they have some inner struggle. Or they're a flamer, but that's just their problem.
Innocent (and Poetic) Muse: Sorry I made you cry, thanks for saying I write well. Elrohir won't die in this story, worry not.
Coco Beans: French is a fun language! Though not as good as Sindarin.
Starfleet Hobbit: Oh, but I mustn't tell you what happens next. That would ruin the story!
Karate Elf: I get to see it early because my friend Lili's grandmother is a member of the Academy of Motion Pictures and there was this screening and. . .yeah. Thranduil handles this. . .not well.
Analorien: No, there will not be a battle of the Elf lords! That much I'll tell.
Soulsearcher-Arbariel: Thanks! And yeah, Elves don't get sick, but I had writers' block so I tweaked one small, little fact. Sorry Mr. Tolkien! Please don't sue me! Glad to be of help with your story. Legolas and Elrohir's friendship is something, as a child, I always imagined friendship was like: friendship is a place deep inside of you, which means that they will walk with you where others fear to tread. Of course, I never had a friend until just last year, so my definition seemed a bit daft even to me and I won't take it personally if you think I'm stupid and thick. Or die? While I do not fear death nor deny that some day I shall die, it would be a pity to leave the readers--such as yourself--in terrible suspense. Perhaps another cliff-hanger. . .by the way, your reviews were very nice to receive and reassuring to a certain highly insecure author. . .
Smeagol: Um, you think it's better that he is a masochist than that he has a nice wig? I mean, mohawk!! Mohawk mohawk mohawk!! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!! Anyway. I refuse to bow to your deity, so there.
Susan: You're welcome! And thank you for the wonderful review! Flamers should keep their mouths shut, and their fingers off the keys! Yeah, sure, you don't have to say how to improve my story if you like it as is--not a bit less melodramatic and more descriptive, with a few action sequences? Just kidding. Even though I'm not genius--but Smeagol, who reviewed my story, actually is a genius. And a good action writer! Anyway, on to the story. . .
Lirenel: Thranduil thinks it was Elrohir. Thanks for reviewing and for saying the story's well written!
Rin: Hey! Not all girls are organized! Plus which. I know a boy who is organized beyond belief and thinks he's dirty if he only fits in two showers on any day. I am utterly flattered by you saying this is "one of the best stories" you've read in a while.
Lady of the Forest: He should do something, but he can't. And of course I keep you in suspense! It's fun. . .heh heh. . .'Nightly Gleams the Blade' is more on writers' block than on pause right now.
Tamara: Yes, he does. . .you'll see.
Elêwen: Yeah, but how is that inaccurate? Most bilingual couples don't shout at each other in the language their children are most familiar with. Words have different meanings in different places.
Soulsearcher: What does that explain? Meh. . .I'm so confused. . .Anyone would kill--I'm lucky I don't have to. Well, actually--no. Won't be depressing.
Legolas's fanatical fan girl: Thanks, and as for the note to flamers, well, when I'm in a bad mood, it helps to have someone to write nasty notes to, and flamers are just so good for it!
*****
Elrohir was proud of Legolas. It was not good that he had been hurting himself, and it was terrible that Naithon made him think so low of himself, but that he could admit it to the person he least wanted to hurt was incredible. That took courage, the sort Elrohir deemed of more value than the courage it takes to slay, to take life. Elrohir was sitting on his bed, simply being proud, when he head a small sound from the doorway. "Ada?" Elrond did not look pleased.
"Perhaps it would be best if you heard for yourself what charges have been brought against you," Elrond said. Elrohir was confused. He had done nothing wrong! He knew that he was without guilt and undeserving of whatever accusation had been made.
Elrohir followed Elrond through a labyrinth of corridors until they came to a room Elrohir had not seen before. "The library," said Elrond, and he entered. Elrohir followed, still unsure of what was going on. Inside, it began to make some sense. Thranduil stood, red in the face and looking very angry. Beside him cowered Legolas, suddenly looking small and weak. His face was contorted with emotional pain, and he was almost crying.
"There he is," Thranduil said, "ask him, he will tell you!" Elrond looked at Elrohir, and the boy felt sure that his father believed Thranduil, whatever he had said. Elrohir's heart sank.
"Elrohir, Thranduil has accused you of something very serious," Elrond said condescendingly. With a flash of anger Elrohir wanted to say that he was Elrohir, not Arwen, and he did not need to be addressed as a child, but he held his tongue. Wasn't anyone going to state the accusation? Elrohir looked again at Legolas, who hid from his glance. "He has said that you have hurt his son."
"What?" Elrohir whispered. He was shocked. He never did anything of the sort! Didn't Legolas go to tell Thranduil exactly what had happened? Legolas had lied to him. There was no other answer. "No," he whispered softer. Elrohir could not believe that his best friend had betrayed him.
"Did you hear that? He denies it!" Thranduil exclaimed. "He is both a danger and a liar!"
"Thranduil," Elrond replied calmly, "I do not believe that my son would lie to me."
"I can prove he is guilty!" Thranduil was nearly shouting now, far louder than was necessary. Legolas twitched. Turning to Elrohir, Thranduil commanded, "Empty your pockets, boy." Elrohir looked to Elrond, who nodded.
"Do what he asks," Elrond said. Elrohir did. Emptying his right pocket he produced a stone and a piece of parchment.
"Oh," Elrohir said, seeing the parchment. Thranduil reached for it, but Elrohir snatched it back. "That's personal."
"No it is not! It just proves your guilt! Now let me see!" He managed to grab a corner of the parchment. Elrohir let go, not wanting to tear it. Thranduil unfolded the parchment, so sure this would prove Elrohir a convict. It was in those few seconds that Elrohir's tool came to his mind: Thranduil was afraid. He was so desperate to assure guilt because he was afraid that Legolas really had done this! "What is this trash?" Thranduil asked. Elrohir felt anger welling up inside him.
"It is mine, give it to me," he demanded, earning a disapproving look from Thranduil and a look from Elrond stating that he was disappointed with Elrohir's behavior. Elrohir took a deep breath. For his plan to work, he had to stay calm. "May I please have back the picture Arwen drew?" he asked.
"That is what is on the parchment?"
"That is all that is on the parchment, Ada," Elrohir said. "Arwen drew it two days ago."
Thranduil's entire body pulsed. He stared from Elrond to Elrohir and back. Finally he wadded up the parchment and tossed it, none too gently, at Elrohir. "Just some stupid girl's scribbles." Elrohir was getting angry again, but he didn't let Thranduil know that.
"If you are satisfied, Thranduil," Elrond began, but Thranduil did not let him finish.
"He has got two pockets," Thranduil stated. Elrohir's heart dropped even farther. He had hoped, with the picture as a diversion, that he could get out of emptying his other pocket. Slowly he dipped his hand into the pocket on his left side, and drew out a knife--the knife. "He is guilty. This is proof even you cannot deny, Elrond."
"Do you have an explanation for these things, Elrohir?"
"No," he said, "but Legolas does." The Elves looked at the cowering boy, and he drew farther away from them, hanging his head.
"How can you call on him?" Thranduil demanded. "Look at the child, he can hardly bear to see your face, and you ask him to testify to its innocence? Only such an unfeeling person could cause the harm my son has suffered."
"Be wise with your words, Thranduil," Elrond warned. Elrohir took the momentary distraction to cross the room to where Legolas stood. Elrond watched, but could not hear, as Elrohir rested a hand on Legolas's shoulder. Legolas shied away and tried hard not to make eye contact with Elrohir. Elrohir was patient, and talked quietly to Legolas. Legolas stopped struggling against him and gently shook his head. Elrohir nodded as he responded, then lifted Legolas's chin to meet so their eyes would meet. Elrohir nodded again, repeating what he had just said.
I was wrong, Elrond realized. There was no way his son had done what Thranduil said he had done. No one could cause such incredible pain and then be so gentle to anyone. Elrohir stepped forward. "Legolas has something to say, Thranduil, and it is important," Elrohir announced. Thranduil looked straight at Legolas, who cowered but did not avert his eyes.
"I," Legolas began nervously, his voice twitching. He couldn't believe this. He had said what he had done, and Thranduil had accused Elrohir. He had even felt relief then. If he blamed Elrohir, all of this would go away. No one would be hurt by his actions. Then with a pang of guilt he thought of Elrond, whose son Legolas was about to accuse, and Arwen, who could never look up to her brother again, and Elrohir, who would only be hurt by Legolas's betrayal. He was not low enough to cause that.
But now what? If he admitted it, he would hurt his family. He would dishonour them, and hurt their feelings. So what could he do? "I made it up," he said, quivering. Thranduil and Elrond both looked at him strangely, Elrond surprised and Thranduil disgusted. The disgust shot through Legolas, and he looked to the floor. Only Elrohir seemed to understand.
"No!" Elrohir cried. "Stop lying and tell the truth!" He demanded more of Legolas than he knew. The truth was too much; it was harsh, undeniable, and confounding. Neither boy in full knew or understood it. Legolas shook his head, a small gesture only Elrohir caught. "You have to! Legolas," he whispered, "you have to." Legolas heard the tears springing into his friend's eyes before he saw them, tentatively raising his head.
"Maybe. . .maybe I did not make this up, Ada," Legolas muttered, eyes on the ground. "Maybe," he raised his head and looked into the fear-filled eyes of his father. "I did this myself."
*****
TBC
Golden Rose: Hey, it's out in general release! Heh heh heh. . .Happy Christmas, if I did translate the French bit properly (technically I'm an atheist and my family is "Jewish"--not a single Bar or Bat Mitzvah in generations, but I get to celebrate Christmas, as well, so why not let it be happy? And it can be happy even for those who don't celebrate it!)
Furious: To begin with, although masochism has become more popular over recent years I believe it has gone on throughout history. I understand that you don't feel the Elves would do that sort of thing, but that's just it-- some people know they are going to do these things and no one, not even their own parents, will believe them. Which one is James Joyce again? I'm not so good with contemporary authors. Yes, the way I write it is a psychological disorder--because that's what masochism is. It isn't some hobby for bored people, it isn't healthy, and it isn't normal, it is a disorder of the mind. By the way, when you said "if this is an original story", were you saying that I plagiarized it? If so, I had no intentions of any such action and apologize to whomever's story I copied.
Cheysuli: Thranduil is going to behave in a manner befitting his character. In other, plainer words, you'll just have to wait and see! Elrohir is my borderline perfect character--whatever he feels, he knows how to swallow it and act rationally. I know when the movie opens--well, opened. Gollum sings!! And he keeps the beat with a fishy! And Elrond makes Arwen cry. Anyway, I'll stop ruining it for you.
Joey: I'm sorry I made you cry and brought back bad memories. That's not what I was trying to do. Also, do not worry about Elrohir, because he will not fail. I didn't mean that remark to offend anyone; it was just a careless thing I said a joke. I'm not against any slash, but let's face it-- a flamer like mine would writer really, really bad slash most likely. Sorry you were offended, it was not intentional or the remark fully meant. I'll be more careful next time.
Carol Stevenson: Well, one might imagine princes have more trouble then any, and princesses as well--Elizabeth Tudor, for example. No matter what anyone appears, they have some inner struggle. Or they're a flamer, but that's just their problem.
Innocent (and Poetic) Muse: Sorry I made you cry, thanks for saying I write well. Elrohir won't die in this story, worry not.
Coco Beans: French is a fun language! Though not as good as Sindarin.
Starfleet Hobbit: Oh, but I mustn't tell you what happens next. That would ruin the story!
Karate Elf: I get to see it early because my friend Lili's grandmother is a member of the Academy of Motion Pictures and there was this screening and. . .yeah. Thranduil handles this. . .not well.
Analorien: No, there will not be a battle of the Elf lords! That much I'll tell.
Soulsearcher-Arbariel: Thanks! And yeah, Elves don't get sick, but I had writers' block so I tweaked one small, little fact. Sorry Mr. Tolkien! Please don't sue me! Glad to be of help with your story. Legolas and Elrohir's friendship is something, as a child, I always imagined friendship was like: friendship is a place deep inside of you, which means that they will walk with you where others fear to tread. Of course, I never had a friend until just last year, so my definition seemed a bit daft even to me and I won't take it personally if you think I'm stupid and thick. Or die? While I do not fear death nor deny that some day I shall die, it would be a pity to leave the readers--such as yourself--in terrible suspense. Perhaps another cliff-hanger. . .by the way, your reviews were very nice to receive and reassuring to a certain highly insecure author. . .
Smeagol: Um, you think it's better that he is a masochist than that he has a nice wig? I mean, mohawk!! Mohawk mohawk mohawk!! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!! Anyway. I refuse to bow to your deity, so there.
Susan: You're welcome! And thank you for the wonderful review! Flamers should keep their mouths shut, and their fingers off the keys! Yeah, sure, you don't have to say how to improve my story if you like it as is--not a bit less melodramatic and more descriptive, with a few action sequences? Just kidding. Even though I'm not genius--but Smeagol, who reviewed my story, actually is a genius. And a good action writer! Anyway, on to the story. . .
Lirenel: Thranduil thinks it was Elrohir. Thanks for reviewing and for saying the story's well written!
Rin: Hey! Not all girls are organized! Plus which. I know a boy who is organized beyond belief and thinks he's dirty if he only fits in two showers on any day. I am utterly flattered by you saying this is "one of the best stories" you've read in a while.
Lady of the Forest: He should do something, but he can't. And of course I keep you in suspense! It's fun. . .heh heh. . .'Nightly Gleams the Blade' is more on writers' block than on pause right now.
Tamara: Yes, he does. . .you'll see.
Elêwen: Yeah, but how is that inaccurate? Most bilingual couples don't shout at each other in the language their children are most familiar with. Words have different meanings in different places.
Soulsearcher: What does that explain? Meh. . .I'm so confused. . .Anyone would kill--I'm lucky I don't have to. Well, actually--no. Won't be depressing.
Legolas's fanatical fan girl: Thanks, and as for the note to flamers, well, when I'm in a bad mood, it helps to have someone to write nasty notes to, and flamers are just so good for it!
*****
Elrohir was proud of Legolas. It was not good that he had been hurting himself, and it was terrible that Naithon made him think so low of himself, but that he could admit it to the person he least wanted to hurt was incredible. That took courage, the sort Elrohir deemed of more value than the courage it takes to slay, to take life. Elrohir was sitting on his bed, simply being proud, when he head a small sound from the doorway. "Ada?" Elrond did not look pleased.
"Perhaps it would be best if you heard for yourself what charges have been brought against you," Elrond said. Elrohir was confused. He had done nothing wrong! He knew that he was without guilt and undeserving of whatever accusation had been made.
Elrohir followed Elrond through a labyrinth of corridors until they came to a room Elrohir had not seen before. "The library," said Elrond, and he entered. Elrohir followed, still unsure of what was going on. Inside, it began to make some sense. Thranduil stood, red in the face and looking very angry. Beside him cowered Legolas, suddenly looking small and weak. His face was contorted with emotional pain, and he was almost crying.
"There he is," Thranduil said, "ask him, he will tell you!" Elrond looked at Elrohir, and the boy felt sure that his father believed Thranduil, whatever he had said. Elrohir's heart sank.
"Elrohir, Thranduil has accused you of something very serious," Elrond said condescendingly. With a flash of anger Elrohir wanted to say that he was Elrohir, not Arwen, and he did not need to be addressed as a child, but he held his tongue. Wasn't anyone going to state the accusation? Elrohir looked again at Legolas, who hid from his glance. "He has said that you have hurt his son."
"What?" Elrohir whispered. He was shocked. He never did anything of the sort! Didn't Legolas go to tell Thranduil exactly what had happened? Legolas had lied to him. There was no other answer. "No," he whispered softer. Elrohir could not believe that his best friend had betrayed him.
"Did you hear that? He denies it!" Thranduil exclaimed. "He is both a danger and a liar!"
"Thranduil," Elrond replied calmly, "I do not believe that my son would lie to me."
"I can prove he is guilty!" Thranduil was nearly shouting now, far louder than was necessary. Legolas twitched. Turning to Elrohir, Thranduil commanded, "Empty your pockets, boy." Elrohir looked to Elrond, who nodded.
"Do what he asks," Elrond said. Elrohir did. Emptying his right pocket he produced a stone and a piece of parchment.
"Oh," Elrohir said, seeing the parchment. Thranduil reached for it, but Elrohir snatched it back. "That's personal."
"No it is not! It just proves your guilt! Now let me see!" He managed to grab a corner of the parchment. Elrohir let go, not wanting to tear it. Thranduil unfolded the parchment, so sure this would prove Elrohir a convict. It was in those few seconds that Elrohir's tool came to his mind: Thranduil was afraid. He was so desperate to assure guilt because he was afraid that Legolas really had done this! "What is this trash?" Thranduil asked. Elrohir felt anger welling up inside him.
"It is mine, give it to me," he demanded, earning a disapproving look from Thranduil and a look from Elrond stating that he was disappointed with Elrohir's behavior. Elrohir took a deep breath. For his plan to work, he had to stay calm. "May I please have back the picture Arwen drew?" he asked.
"That is what is on the parchment?"
"That is all that is on the parchment, Ada," Elrohir said. "Arwen drew it two days ago."
Thranduil's entire body pulsed. He stared from Elrond to Elrohir and back. Finally he wadded up the parchment and tossed it, none too gently, at Elrohir. "Just some stupid girl's scribbles." Elrohir was getting angry again, but he didn't let Thranduil know that.
"If you are satisfied, Thranduil," Elrond began, but Thranduil did not let him finish.
"He has got two pockets," Thranduil stated. Elrohir's heart dropped even farther. He had hoped, with the picture as a diversion, that he could get out of emptying his other pocket. Slowly he dipped his hand into the pocket on his left side, and drew out a knife--the knife. "He is guilty. This is proof even you cannot deny, Elrond."
"Do you have an explanation for these things, Elrohir?"
"No," he said, "but Legolas does." The Elves looked at the cowering boy, and he drew farther away from them, hanging his head.
"How can you call on him?" Thranduil demanded. "Look at the child, he can hardly bear to see your face, and you ask him to testify to its innocence? Only such an unfeeling person could cause the harm my son has suffered."
"Be wise with your words, Thranduil," Elrond warned. Elrohir took the momentary distraction to cross the room to where Legolas stood. Elrond watched, but could not hear, as Elrohir rested a hand on Legolas's shoulder. Legolas shied away and tried hard not to make eye contact with Elrohir. Elrohir was patient, and talked quietly to Legolas. Legolas stopped struggling against him and gently shook his head. Elrohir nodded as he responded, then lifted Legolas's chin to meet so their eyes would meet. Elrohir nodded again, repeating what he had just said.
I was wrong, Elrond realized. There was no way his son had done what Thranduil said he had done. No one could cause such incredible pain and then be so gentle to anyone. Elrohir stepped forward. "Legolas has something to say, Thranduil, and it is important," Elrohir announced. Thranduil looked straight at Legolas, who cowered but did not avert his eyes.
"I," Legolas began nervously, his voice twitching. He couldn't believe this. He had said what he had done, and Thranduil had accused Elrohir. He had even felt relief then. If he blamed Elrohir, all of this would go away. No one would be hurt by his actions. Then with a pang of guilt he thought of Elrond, whose son Legolas was about to accuse, and Arwen, who could never look up to her brother again, and Elrohir, who would only be hurt by Legolas's betrayal. He was not low enough to cause that.
But now what? If he admitted it, he would hurt his family. He would dishonour them, and hurt their feelings. So what could he do? "I made it up," he said, quivering. Thranduil and Elrond both looked at him strangely, Elrond surprised and Thranduil disgusted. The disgust shot through Legolas, and he looked to the floor. Only Elrohir seemed to understand.
"No!" Elrohir cried. "Stop lying and tell the truth!" He demanded more of Legolas than he knew. The truth was too much; it was harsh, undeniable, and confounding. Neither boy in full knew or understood it. Legolas shook his head, a small gesture only Elrohir caught. "You have to! Legolas," he whispered, "you have to." Legolas heard the tears springing into his friend's eyes before he saw them, tentatively raising his head.
"Maybe. . .maybe I did not make this up, Ada," Legolas muttered, eyes on the ground. "Maybe," he raised his head and looked into the fear-filled eyes of his father. "I did this myself."
*****
TBC
