Title: Hunter and Prey, 3/?
Author: Rune Dancer, runedancer@hotmail.com
Rating: R
Pairing: That would be telling.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Tolkien is God, yadda, yadda.
Warnings: Slash.
Archiving: Anyone who wants it, just let me know.
A/N: This has nothing to do with my previous Unspoken story arc, although
some of the characterizations are eerily similar. Updates will be
haphazard, but I promise to finish it.
* * *
"All right, all right. Settle down, you lot." Erestor looked, Glorfindel thought sourly, quite pleased with himself in the role of hunt master, and had gone so far as to dress the part in carefully tailored buckskins. Of course, the effect was rather ruined by the three- inch heels on his highly polished boots and the cascading cravat on his green silk shirt, but he seemed oblivious to the grins and murmured comments of the guards. He could afford to smile, Glorfindel thought bitterly; it wasn't his reputation on the line. "Now, you all know the rules, I'm sure," Erestor commented, "but there have been a few adjustments this year, so let's just review them, shall we?"
Glorfindel's ears perked up. Adjustments? He hadn't authorized anything of the kind. Trust Erestor to wait until the night before the Hunt to bother mentioning this. He narrowed his eyes at his oldest friend, who was continuing blithely on despite the surprised murmur that filled the Great Hall.
"Now, I want a clean Hunt," Erestor was saying, thwapping his riding crop against one leather-covered thigh for emphasis. Glorfindel refrained from rolling his eyes, but just barely. "There will be no, and I repeat NO, serious injuries this year. You are free to take out the competition, of course--indeed, that's half the fun," he added, grinning wickedly at Glorfindel as he did so. Just you wait Erestor, Glorfindel thought back, while keeping his face carefully neutral. You'll end by wishing you'd bet on me after all. "However," Erestor continued, looking suddenly stern as if for emphasis, "I don't want to see any broken bones, concussions, or other significant injuries in the healing chambers afterwards, or I will start disqualifications!"
There was a discontented murmur throughout the room at this, and Glorfindel wasn't surprised. He had always avoided making such a rule because, first, serious injuries were rare and had never, as far as he knew, been caused deliberately; and second, he had not wanted to offend the assembled players by impugning their honor. Erestor had better watch out tomorrow, he thought, glancing around at several of the flushed faces of the guards. They didn't look too happy with him.
"Now, the basic rules of the Hunt are as usual," Erestor was saying, quite oblivious to the angry looks being directed his way. "There is, somewhere on the grounds or in the forest about Imladris, hidden the twin of this," and he held up one of the old, tattered battle standards from the War of the Last Alliance. It was taller than he was and topped by a worn, gilt crest of a shield covered with stars. There were only two of them left now, the other of Gil-Galad's standards having been destroyed on the battlefield or lost through the years. It was the usual talisman used for the Hunt for that reason, as it would be impossible to fake--Elrond would certainly know.
"The elf who finds it and brings it back successfully to the starting line is the winner. However," and he paused dramatically, although why Glorfindel couldn't imagine. As Erestor had said, all the assembled elves certainly knew the rules. "Each Hunter will also wear one of these on his or her person," and he pulled out a small, jeweled badge on a silken cord, which he waved about in front of them. "In the event that the standard is not found, which has happened by my records a total of 233 times in the last millennium, then the Hunter who brings back the most of these will win." He grinned rather evilly. "How you come by other Hunters' badges is, of course, entirely your affair." Glorfindel saw the uneasy looks being exchanged throughout the Hall and noted that, as always, the tension in the room had just ratcheted up noticeably.
"Any Hunter who loses his badge must return to the start of the course where he or she will be disqualified. The Hunt will end when the prize is returned or after twenty-four hours from the start, whichever comes first. The signal for the Hunters to return will be the usual three horn blast from Imladris' trumpeters. Once you hear it, you have one hour to reach the starting line or be disqualified." Erestor paused to consult a small note tablet at his side. "Oh yes," he muttered, almost too low to hear, "one last thing. Due to a desire to keep the chaos to a minimum, and to insure that no bystanders are accidentally injured as happened last year, we have decided only to allow in the field those persons actually taking part in the Hunt."
Glorfindel winced as a huge wash of protest swept the room, loud enough to actually hurt his ears. No one was happy with this last alteration, it would seem, and he couldn't blame them. It was, of course, possible to get a partial view of the proceedings from the upper stories of the Last Homely House, which was why those residents with the higher balconies usually hosted large parties in their rooms for the more sedentary types, with wine and critical commentary flowing more freely as the day went along. As Hunt Master, Glorfindel had often floated from party to party, many of which rather ran together anyway, giving his judgment on that years' likely winner. This year, of course, he would be in the field, starting at every sound and probably getting pounced on by half of Imladris' enraged guards. Still, he thought with a grin, Erestor might end up having it even worse, as all the frustrated youngsters who would normally have taken to the field to watch their favorites ended up crammed back into the house. He was almost sorry he wouldn't have the chance to see it, as the chaos back here might actually rival that on the field for a change.
* * *
"All right, can we panic now?" Elrohir had grabbed his stunned looking twin and dragged him from the Great Hall before anyone could intercept them. They were presently huddled in a broom closet, not wanting to waste time trying to make for their rooms on the far side of the house.
"I . . . it will be all right . . . I just need to think." Elladan sat on an upturned bucket and stared blindly at the wall. After a long silence, he looked up at his furious twin, who looked like he was contemplating thumping him over the head with a broom handle. "We're in trouble."
"Oh, do you really think so?" The sarcasm fairly dripped from every word. "And why would that be, then? Because neither of us is signed up for the Hunt, perhaps? Because we won't even be allowed in the field tomorrow? Because we now have to grab them tonight and hold them somewhere, somehow, with no advance preparation and the clock ticking away?!" Elrohir kicked the bucket on which his chagrined looking brother was sitting, almost dislodging him onto the floor. "I KNEW something like this would happen! WHY would Erestor do this? I thought he was supposed to be helping!"
"It must have been Ada's decision, although I can't imagine why he would change the rules like this, especially so late. Unless . . . "
"He suspects." Elrohir finished his brother's thought. "Erestor MUST have said something."
"He wouldn't betray us--he wouldn't!," Elladan insisted, seeing his brother's skeptical look. "Listen, he and Ada have some sort of bet going on the outcome of the Hunt. I saw him looking dejected last week and asked him why, and he told me--that's when I enlisted him to help us. He's bet against Glorfindel, and Ada has bet on him. He WOULDN'T betray us, Elrohir, or he'd lose his bet, he knows that!"
"So how do you explain it, then?"
Elladan looked sulky. "How should I know? Maybe he talks in his sleep . . ." He broke off at his brother's confused expression. "Oh come, Elrohir! You can't tell me you didn't know!"
"K-know what?"
Elladan looked shifty. "Nothing, forget I said anything. Listen, there's a simple way out of this--we'll just go sign up for the Hunt. Erestor's Hunt Master, so even if father doesn't like it, he can't very well stop us. Then we'll be in the field as we expected."
"Yes, but what if someone takes our tokens before we can . . . "
"Well, we'll just have to make sure they don't. After all, who knows these woods better than we do? And anyway, we won't be in the field long. All we have to do is stay close to our prey until we can separate them from the pack, then act as planned. This really isn't a serious problem after all; I don't know why I was so worried. Just stunned, I suppose. Anyway," he rose decisively, "I'm going to see Erestor and make sure he signs us up immediately." He clapped Elrohir on the shoulder. "Don't look so glum-- everything will be fine!"
* * *
Elladan's step was jaunty going back to his rooms, for all was back on track. Erestor had apologized profusely once Elladan managed to drag him away from the hoards of new Hunters who had surged forward after finding out that joining up was their only ticket to a front row seat. As he had thought, the change in the rules was Ada's idea, but Erestor swore he couldn't possibly know anything. "Not a word, Elladan--I swear I haven't breathed a word!"
Elladan tended to believe him, as it would certainly not be in Erestor's interest to betray them. Of course, he needn't have done so in so many words. Ada was, after all, one of the best at picking up on non-verbal clues that Elladan had ever seen, and he certainly knew Erestor like a book. He probably didn't know anything for certain, but had noticed enough to make him suspicious and to cause him to throw a spanner in the works. But all for nothing, Elladan thought smugly, for Erestor had immediately signed he and Elrohir up as Hunters, thus bringing everything back into equilibrium again. Now all he had to do was get a good night's rest so as to be on top form tomorrow . . .
"Well, hello traitor. We wondered when you'd decide to return." Elladan heard the door to his room click shut behind him just as Rumil's voice rang out through the dark chamber.
"Rumil, is that you?" A taper flared a second later, illuminating the furious features of Haldir's younger brother. Elladan didn't need to turn around to know that it was Orophin guarding the only exit.
"Of course it's me--don't tell me you didn't expect this visit?"
"Er, no, actually. Shouldn't you be off resting before the big event?"
"Shouldn't I be resting?," Rumil's voice had taken on a high, mocking quality. "Yes, I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you? Do you hear, Orophin? He thinks we ought to toddle off to our chambers like good little elflings, and wait for him to put his so clever plan into effect tomorrow." Elladan heard what could only be described as a growl from behind him.
"Is-is there a problem here?," he asked, spreading his hands beseechingly to Rumil, who, despite his obvious anger, had at least retained the power of actual speech. "Because I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding."
Elladan felt a large, warm body come up behind him, while Rumil moved closer to bracket him from the front. "Oh? Just a misunderstanding? No," he said thoughtfully, "I think miscalculation would be more apt, wouldn't it, Orophin?" Another growl sounded in Elladan's ear, causing him to flinch slightly. "You see, dear traitor, you should have made certain that Lord Erestor didn't reveal your little secret so soon. He could have made the announcement tomorrow just before we all take the field, and that might have caught us off guard enough for your plan to have had a chance at success. But now," and he smiled gently into Elladan's surprised face, "we have all night to think up what to do with you, don't we?"
"You'll wish you had never tried to use us, Peredhil," came Orophin's voice from behind him, and the level of malice in it made Elladan wish that he'd revert to growls again.
"Use you?," Elladan forced a laugh. He was relieved to hear that it sounded almost genuine. "No, no. You are having me on, aren't you? We're on the same side here."
"Oh, are we? Well, refresh my poor memory then, would you?," Rumil asked, in mock sincerity. "Because I was under the distinct impression that the only thing you wanted from my brother was to win that stupid bet, which, I might add, I just asked him about and--surprise--he never heard of it!"
"W-what?"
"Oh, yes, didn't have any idea what I was talking about. And that, my dear Elladan, taken together with the fact that you, it seems, will now be competing tomorrow yourself, and everything begins to look rather different, doesn't it?"
"You planned to use us to help you remove Haldir--your biggest competitor-- and clear the way for an easy Imladris win," Orophin chimed in, his voice ruffling the hair about Elladan's ears.
"Don't bother to deny it!," Rumil added, seeing Elladan's stunned look. "It wouldn't surprise me to find out that you've arranged something equally evil for poor Glorfindel! Does Legolas know what a lucky escape he had? Tell me," and Rumil sidled even closer, to the point that their noses were less than an inch apart, "do you plan to take the prize for yourself, Peredhil? Are you going to betray your own guards as well as us?"
Elladan was thinking quickly, but he had to admit that it looked bad. He hadn't taken the time before to view Erestor's announcement from the Lorien perspective, which obviously had been a mistake. Why Haldir didn't remember their bet, however, was another issue all together, and an even more worrying one. Of course, they had been drinking rather heavily at the time, but as he remembered everything quite well, he couldn't imagine why Haldir did not. Unless he was lying to try and get out of it, but that did not seem his style. And come to think of it, he hadn't seemed to remember Elladan very well when they'd spoken at the welcoming banquet, although Elladan had assumed that he was merely being funny. But maybe not. And that, of course, would ruin everything, for Elladan really had no interest whatsoever in who won the bleeding prize. The only prize he was after was something quite different.
"Look, my dear friends, really," he spread his hands in supplication and put on his most appealing face. "You must believe me--I had no idea that Erestor was about to make such a change to the rules. I swear to you that my only interest in the proceedings is as I outlined to you. I signed up for the Hunt solely because it was the only way to arrange to be in the field so as to put our plan into operation. As to why Haldir does not remember our bet, why," he shrugged, "I cannot tell you as I have no idea. We were drinking at the time, it is true, but I cannot believe that such an elf as Haldir could have been so affected by a few bottles of wine. They did not interfere with my memory, I assure you."
Rumil looked suddenly thoughtful, and Orophin stepped back slightly, allowing cool air to touch Elladan's back, which, he then realized, was drenched with sweat. "Haldir has, er, a slight problem with wine," Rumil said musingly. "He always has been silly about it--we often tease him because, of course, so little else affects him."
Elladan nodded, wanting to keep them on his side. "Yes, well, that explains it, doesn't it? He just can't remember."
Rumil eyed him speculatively. "But doesn't that rather ruin your plans, then?"
Elladan nodded slowly; he had a point. "It does, actually. Naturally I had assumed . . . "
"Oh, but we can fix that," Orophin piped up, clapping him between his damp shoulder blades.
"How?"
"We'll just go wake him up."
* * *
Haldir was having a very nice dream. It involved, among other things, a waterfall, a picnic lunch and a very attractive youth who wasn't wearing much. They had just reached the dessert phase, and Haldir was eyeing his companion and the bowl of strawberries in cream with rather lascivious intent, when he was abruptly snapped back to reality. A split second later his attacker was face down on the bed, with Haldir's knee pressing painfully into his lower back. It wasn't until he heard Rumil's amused laughter from behind him that he let up slightly on his captive.
"And that, dear Elladan, is why we let you wake him," Rumil chortled.
"What is the idea?" Haldir glared at his two brothers, who were lounging by the door to his rooms with identical amused grins on their faces.
"We need to talk to you, brother," Rumil replied, "or, rather, Elladan needs to do so, don't you Elladan?"
"Mmmphh."
Haldir realized that, despite the fact that he had lessened his hold, Elrond's eldest was still pressed somewhat forcefully down into the mattress, and quickly removed himself. Elladan flopped over onto his back, gasping for breath and apparently unable to speak.
"Oh very well," Rumil said, with an exaggerated sigh, "I guess I can do it. You see Haldir," he commented, moving forward with an expression of barely withheld glee, "It seems that you've forgotten a little something. And since tomorrow is the big day, we thought that it was only fair to remind you in advance."
Haldir looked from his two rascally brothers to the still gasping Elladan with considerable suspicion. "Forgotten what?," he asked slowly, wondering what new trick this might be. Of course, he knew they didn't want him to win, but if they thought that losing him a bit of sleep was going to make a difference, they were in for a considerable surprise.
"Oh, merely that, if you don't manage to win tomorrow, big brother, there is a little something you owe Elladan, who is betting against you, you see. It all has to do with some wager you made at last year's closing feast, after downing a bit too much of Lord Elrond's good wine, apparently."
Haldir glanced at Elladan in time to see a dull red flush spread over his handsome features, but the younger elf raised his chin defiantly nonetheless. "And what, pray tell, do you get if I lose?," Haldir asked him. After a few second's hesitation, Elladan told him.
The resulting roar of outrage woke most of the occupants of the house who had retired and frightened many of the others. However, a party of Imladris' guards, who had met in the courtyard for one last drink before going to bed, were the only ones who witnessed the opening sortie of what would be a most memorable Hunt. A startled looking Elladan came flying out the window of a second floor chamber a few second's later, his formal dinner robes rippling out behind him. He managed to grab the edge of the slanted roof and ended up making a rather fine landing a few yards from them. But before they could clap in appreciation or he could collect himself, two more figures came hurtling through the air and landed rather heavily on top of him. After a few confused moments, the three managed to separate themselves and, with much cursing and muttered comments the guards couldn't quite make out, hobbled back towards the house. The guards grinned at each other, and clinked glasses. Oh yes, the Hunt was on.
TBC
* * *
"All right, all right. Settle down, you lot." Erestor looked, Glorfindel thought sourly, quite pleased with himself in the role of hunt master, and had gone so far as to dress the part in carefully tailored buckskins. Of course, the effect was rather ruined by the three- inch heels on his highly polished boots and the cascading cravat on his green silk shirt, but he seemed oblivious to the grins and murmured comments of the guards. He could afford to smile, Glorfindel thought bitterly; it wasn't his reputation on the line. "Now, you all know the rules, I'm sure," Erestor commented, "but there have been a few adjustments this year, so let's just review them, shall we?"
Glorfindel's ears perked up. Adjustments? He hadn't authorized anything of the kind. Trust Erestor to wait until the night before the Hunt to bother mentioning this. He narrowed his eyes at his oldest friend, who was continuing blithely on despite the surprised murmur that filled the Great Hall.
"Now, I want a clean Hunt," Erestor was saying, thwapping his riding crop against one leather-covered thigh for emphasis. Glorfindel refrained from rolling his eyes, but just barely. "There will be no, and I repeat NO, serious injuries this year. You are free to take out the competition, of course--indeed, that's half the fun," he added, grinning wickedly at Glorfindel as he did so. Just you wait Erestor, Glorfindel thought back, while keeping his face carefully neutral. You'll end by wishing you'd bet on me after all. "However," Erestor continued, looking suddenly stern as if for emphasis, "I don't want to see any broken bones, concussions, or other significant injuries in the healing chambers afterwards, or I will start disqualifications!"
There was a discontented murmur throughout the room at this, and Glorfindel wasn't surprised. He had always avoided making such a rule because, first, serious injuries were rare and had never, as far as he knew, been caused deliberately; and second, he had not wanted to offend the assembled players by impugning their honor. Erestor had better watch out tomorrow, he thought, glancing around at several of the flushed faces of the guards. They didn't look too happy with him.
"Now, the basic rules of the Hunt are as usual," Erestor was saying, quite oblivious to the angry looks being directed his way. "There is, somewhere on the grounds or in the forest about Imladris, hidden the twin of this," and he held up one of the old, tattered battle standards from the War of the Last Alliance. It was taller than he was and topped by a worn, gilt crest of a shield covered with stars. There were only two of them left now, the other of Gil-Galad's standards having been destroyed on the battlefield or lost through the years. It was the usual talisman used for the Hunt for that reason, as it would be impossible to fake--Elrond would certainly know.
"The elf who finds it and brings it back successfully to the starting line is the winner. However," and he paused dramatically, although why Glorfindel couldn't imagine. As Erestor had said, all the assembled elves certainly knew the rules. "Each Hunter will also wear one of these on his or her person," and he pulled out a small, jeweled badge on a silken cord, which he waved about in front of them. "In the event that the standard is not found, which has happened by my records a total of 233 times in the last millennium, then the Hunter who brings back the most of these will win." He grinned rather evilly. "How you come by other Hunters' badges is, of course, entirely your affair." Glorfindel saw the uneasy looks being exchanged throughout the Hall and noted that, as always, the tension in the room had just ratcheted up noticeably.
"Any Hunter who loses his badge must return to the start of the course where he or she will be disqualified. The Hunt will end when the prize is returned or after twenty-four hours from the start, whichever comes first. The signal for the Hunters to return will be the usual three horn blast from Imladris' trumpeters. Once you hear it, you have one hour to reach the starting line or be disqualified." Erestor paused to consult a small note tablet at his side. "Oh yes," he muttered, almost too low to hear, "one last thing. Due to a desire to keep the chaos to a minimum, and to insure that no bystanders are accidentally injured as happened last year, we have decided only to allow in the field those persons actually taking part in the Hunt."
Glorfindel winced as a huge wash of protest swept the room, loud enough to actually hurt his ears. No one was happy with this last alteration, it would seem, and he couldn't blame them. It was, of course, possible to get a partial view of the proceedings from the upper stories of the Last Homely House, which was why those residents with the higher balconies usually hosted large parties in their rooms for the more sedentary types, with wine and critical commentary flowing more freely as the day went along. As Hunt Master, Glorfindel had often floated from party to party, many of which rather ran together anyway, giving his judgment on that years' likely winner. This year, of course, he would be in the field, starting at every sound and probably getting pounced on by half of Imladris' enraged guards. Still, he thought with a grin, Erestor might end up having it even worse, as all the frustrated youngsters who would normally have taken to the field to watch their favorites ended up crammed back into the house. He was almost sorry he wouldn't have the chance to see it, as the chaos back here might actually rival that on the field for a change.
* * *
"All right, can we panic now?" Elrohir had grabbed his stunned looking twin and dragged him from the Great Hall before anyone could intercept them. They were presently huddled in a broom closet, not wanting to waste time trying to make for their rooms on the far side of the house.
"I . . . it will be all right . . . I just need to think." Elladan sat on an upturned bucket and stared blindly at the wall. After a long silence, he looked up at his furious twin, who looked like he was contemplating thumping him over the head with a broom handle. "We're in trouble."
"Oh, do you really think so?" The sarcasm fairly dripped from every word. "And why would that be, then? Because neither of us is signed up for the Hunt, perhaps? Because we won't even be allowed in the field tomorrow? Because we now have to grab them tonight and hold them somewhere, somehow, with no advance preparation and the clock ticking away?!" Elrohir kicked the bucket on which his chagrined looking brother was sitting, almost dislodging him onto the floor. "I KNEW something like this would happen! WHY would Erestor do this? I thought he was supposed to be helping!"
"It must have been Ada's decision, although I can't imagine why he would change the rules like this, especially so late. Unless . . . "
"He suspects." Elrohir finished his brother's thought. "Erestor MUST have said something."
"He wouldn't betray us--he wouldn't!," Elladan insisted, seeing his brother's skeptical look. "Listen, he and Ada have some sort of bet going on the outcome of the Hunt. I saw him looking dejected last week and asked him why, and he told me--that's when I enlisted him to help us. He's bet against Glorfindel, and Ada has bet on him. He WOULDN'T betray us, Elrohir, or he'd lose his bet, he knows that!"
"So how do you explain it, then?"
Elladan looked sulky. "How should I know? Maybe he talks in his sleep . . ." He broke off at his brother's confused expression. "Oh come, Elrohir! You can't tell me you didn't know!"
"K-know what?"
Elladan looked shifty. "Nothing, forget I said anything. Listen, there's a simple way out of this--we'll just go sign up for the Hunt. Erestor's Hunt Master, so even if father doesn't like it, he can't very well stop us. Then we'll be in the field as we expected."
"Yes, but what if someone takes our tokens before we can . . . "
"Well, we'll just have to make sure they don't. After all, who knows these woods better than we do? And anyway, we won't be in the field long. All we have to do is stay close to our prey until we can separate them from the pack, then act as planned. This really isn't a serious problem after all; I don't know why I was so worried. Just stunned, I suppose. Anyway," he rose decisively, "I'm going to see Erestor and make sure he signs us up immediately." He clapped Elrohir on the shoulder. "Don't look so glum-- everything will be fine!"
* * *
Elladan's step was jaunty going back to his rooms, for all was back on track. Erestor had apologized profusely once Elladan managed to drag him away from the hoards of new Hunters who had surged forward after finding out that joining up was their only ticket to a front row seat. As he had thought, the change in the rules was Ada's idea, but Erestor swore he couldn't possibly know anything. "Not a word, Elladan--I swear I haven't breathed a word!"
Elladan tended to believe him, as it would certainly not be in Erestor's interest to betray them. Of course, he needn't have done so in so many words. Ada was, after all, one of the best at picking up on non-verbal clues that Elladan had ever seen, and he certainly knew Erestor like a book. He probably didn't know anything for certain, but had noticed enough to make him suspicious and to cause him to throw a spanner in the works. But all for nothing, Elladan thought smugly, for Erestor had immediately signed he and Elrohir up as Hunters, thus bringing everything back into equilibrium again. Now all he had to do was get a good night's rest so as to be on top form tomorrow . . .
"Well, hello traitor. We wondered when you'd decide to return." Elladan heard the door to his room click shut behind him just as Rumil's voice rang out through the dark chamber.
"Rumil, is that you?" A taper flared a second later, illuminating the furious features of Haldir's younger brother. Elladan didn't need to turn around to know that it was Orophin guarding the only exit.
"Of course it's me--don't tell me you didn't expect this visit?"
"Er, no, actually. Shouldn't you be off resting before the big event?"
"Shouldn't I be resting?," Rumil's voice had taken on a high, mocking quality. "Yes, I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't you? Do you hear, Orophin? He thinks we ought to toddle off to our chambers like good little elflings, and wait for him to put his so clever plan into effect tomorrow." Elladan heard what could only be described as a growl from behind him.
"Is-is there a problem here?," he asked, spreading his hands beseechingly to Rumil, who, despite his obvious anger, had at least retained the power of actual speech. "Because I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding."
Elladan felt a large, warm body come up behind him, while Rumil moved closer to bracket him from the front. "Oh? Just a misunderstanding? No," he said thoughtfully, "I think miscalculation would be more apt, wouldn't it, Orophin?" Another growl sounded in Elladan's ear, causing him to flinch slightly. "You see, dear traitor, you should have made certain that Lord Erestor didn't reveal your little secret so soon. He could have made the announcement tomorrow just before we all take the field, and that might have caught us off guard enough for your plan to have had a chance at success. But now," and he smiled gently into Elladan's surprised face, "we have all night to think up what to do with you, don't we?"
"You'll wish you had never tried to use us, Peredhil," came Orophin's voice from behind him, and the level of malice in it made Elladan wish that he'd revert to growls again.
"Use you?," Elladan forced a laugh. He was relieved to hear that it sounded almost genuine. "No, no. You are having me on, aren't you? We're on the same side here."
"Oh, are we? Well, refresh my poor memory then, would you?," Rumil asked, in mock sincerity. "Because I was under the distinct impression that the only thing you wanted from my brother was to win that stupid bet, which, I might add, I just asked him about and--surprise--he never heard of it!"
"W-what?"
"Oh, yes, didn't have any idea what I was talking about. And that, my dear Elladan, taken together with the fact that you, it seems, will now be competing tomorrow yourself, and everything begins to look rather different, doesn't it?"
"You planned to use us to help you remove Haldir--your biggest competitor-- and clear the way for an easy Imladris win," Orophin chimed in, his voice ruffling the hair about Elladan's ears.
"Don't bother to deny it!," Rumil added, seeing Elladan's stunned look. "It wouldn't surprise me to find out that you've arranged something equally evil for poor Glorfindel! Does Legolas know what a lucky escape he had? Tell me," and Rumil sidled even closer, to the point that their noses were less than an inch apart, "do you plan to take the prize for yourself, Peredhil? Are you going to betray your own guards as well as us?"
Elladan was thinking quickly, but he had to admit that it looked bad. He hadn't taken the time before to view Erestor's announcement from the Lorien perspective, which obviously had been a mistake. Why Haldir didn't remember their bet, however, was another issue all together, and an even more worrying one. Of course, they had been drinking rather heavily at the time, but as he remembered everything quite well, he couldn't imagine why Haldir did not. Unless he was lying to try and get out of it, but that did not seem his style. And come to think of it, he hadn't seemed to remember Elladan very well when they'd spoken at the welcoming banquet, although Elladan had assumed that he was merely being funny. But maybe not. And that, of course, would ruin everything, for Elladan really had no interest whatsoever in who won the bleeding prize. The only prize he was after was something quite different.
"Look, my dear friends, really," he spread his hands in supplication and put on his most appealing face. "You must believe me--I had no idea that Erestor was about to make such a change to the rules. I swear to you that my only interest in the proceedings is as I outlined to you. I signed up for the Hunt solely because it was the only way to arrange to be in the field so as to put our plan into operation. As to why Haldir does not remember our bet, why," he shrugged, "I cannot tell you as I have no idea. We were drinking at the time, it is true, but I cannot believe that such an elf as Haldir could have been so affected by a few bottles of wine. They did not interfere with my memory, I assure you."
Rumil looked suddenly thoughtful, and Orophin stepped back slightly, allowing cool air to touch Elladan's back, which, he then realized, was drenched with sweat. "Haldir has, er, a slight problem with wine," Rumil said musingly. "He always has been silly about it--we often tease him because, of course, so little else affects him."
Elladan nodded, wanting to keep them on his side. "Yes, well, that explains it, doesn't it? He just can't remember."
Rumil eyed him speculatively. "But doesn't that rather ruin your plans, then?"
Elladan nodded slowly; he had a point. "It does, actually. Naturally I had assumed . . . "
"Oh, but we can fix that," Orophin piped up, clapping him between his damp shoulder blades.
"How?"
"We'll just go wake him up."
* * *
Haldir was having a very nice dream. It involved, among other things, a waterfall, a picnic lunch and a very attractive youth who wasn't wearing much. They had just reached the dessert phase, and Haldir was eyeing his companion and the bowl of strawberries in cream with rather lascivious intent, when he was abruptly snapped back to reality. A split second later his attacker was face down on the bed, with Haldir's knee pressing painfully into his lower back. It wasn't until he heard Rumil's amused laughter from behind him that he let up slightly on his captive.
"And that, dear Elladan, is why we let you wake him," Rumil chortled.
"What is the idea?" Haldir glared at his two brothers, who were lounging by the door to his rooms with identical amused grins on their faces.
"We need to talk to you, brother," Rumil replied, "or, rather, Elladan needs to do so, don't you Elladan?"
"Mmmphh."
Haldir realized that, despite the fact that he had lessened his hold, Elrond's eldest was still pressed somewhat forcefully down into the mattress, and quickly removed himself. Elladan flopped over onto his back, gasping for breath and apparently unable to speak.
"Oh very well," Rumil said, with an exaggerated sigh, "I guess I can do it. You see Haldir," he commented, moving forward with an expression of barely withheld glee, "It seems that you've forgotten a little something. And since tomorrow is the big day, we thought that it was only fair to remind you in advance."
Haldir looked from his two rascally brothers to the still gasping Elladan with considerable suspicion. "Forgotten what?," he asked slowly, wondering what new trick this might be. Of course, he knew they didn't want him to win, but if they thought that losing him a bit of sleep was going to make a difference, they were in for a considerable surprise.
"Oh, merely that, if you don't manage to win tomorrow, big brother, there is a little something you owe Elladan, who is betting against you, you see. It all has to do with some wager you made at last year's closing feast, after downing a bit too much of Lord Elrond's good wine, apparently."
Haldir glanced at Elladan in time to see a dull red flush spread over his handsome features, but the younger elf raised his chin defiantly nonetheless. "And what, pray tell, do you get if I lose?," Haldir asked him. After a few second's hesitation, Elladan told him.
The resulting roar of outrage woke most of the occupants of the house who had retired and frightened many of the others. However, a party of Imladris' guards, who had met in the courtyard for one last drink before going to bed, were the only ones who witnessed the opening sortie of what would be a most memorable Hunt. A startled looking Elladan came flying out the window of a second floor chamber a few second's later, his formal dinner robes rippling out behind him. He managed to grab the edge of the slanted roof and ended up making a rather fine landing a few yards from them. But before they could clap in appreciation or he could collect himself, two more figures came hurtling through the air and landed rather heavily on top of him. After a few confused moments, the three managed to separate themselves and, with much cursing and muttered comments the guards couldn't quite make out, hobbled back towards the house. The guards grinned at each other, and clinked glasses. Oh yes, the Hunt was on.
TBC
