'Elvin robes and hot sauce.'
*~*~*~*
"Legolas! Rise and shine, I have some good news to tell you!" Aragorn exclaims, poking Legolas repeatedly on his upper arm.
"Go away," the elf mumbles, burrowing deeper into the covers. The ranger pulls the blankets off and throws them to the ground, flashing Legolas a very annoying smile.
"Guess what?" Aragorn asks while taking a seat at the edge of the bed.
"No way! It's raining blue pants!?" Legolas is now fully awake. He leaps out of bed and stares across the room at the door that Boromir and Celeborn have just entered.
The Mirkwood elf narrows his eyes at the son of Denethor, wondering if he is feeling well. Then he remembered the events of the previous night. Something was amiss, and the elf intended to know what it was.
Aragorn snickers slightly at Boromir before answering. "No, that's not it. There's going to be a huge party tonight!"
Legolas is intrigued. "Why?"
"Well, I don't rightly know, but Ada said that he needed to do something exciting to relieve himself of stress. He said to dress in your finest clothing for it will be very formal. Nobles from all over are going to attend! Lord Celeborn, I'd wager your wife might even attend!" Aragorn turns his gaze to the elf lord and the other human who are taking turns jumping off Legolas's bed into a rather large pile of dirty laundry. Celeborn freezes in mid-air when Aragorn addresses him, but after a second the law of gravity remembers its job and pulls the elf rather forcefully to the ground. He looks up at the ranger with adorable puppy dog eyes.
"Can I have a cookie, please?" Celeborn rises to his knees and grasps his hands together as if praying. "Oh, and if you do see Galadriel, tell her that I'm not here!"
Aragorn frowns down at Celeborn, silently questioning the situation. Why would Celeborn, Lord of Lothlórien ever, *ever* bow to him? The ranger spins around and quietly exits the room, the frown never leaving his face. That was just too weird for him.
"Leggo my Eggo!" Boromir suddenly screams.
Legolas twirls around angrily to face the young man, and would have been red with rage if elves could turn red. The prince had an almost infinite amount of patients, but silly nicknames were one thing he could absolutely not stand!
"How dare you make fun of my name you...you...son of a smelly steward!" Boromir and Celeborn jump a foot in the air in reaction to Legolas's shouting, dropping the eggo they had been fighting over just moments before. The son of a smelly steward's bottom lip began to quiver. His hands twitch spasmodically and his eyes become moist. A few seconds later he bursts into very loud, wet tears. Celeborn is practically livid, entirely despising anything that would dare make his dear friend cry. And the 'anything' just happens to be our dear prince Legolas. The elder elf's icy glare rests on said elf and he quickly rushes to his side. Celeborn makes a fist and holds it threateningly in front of Legolas's face.
"This," says Celeborn, "Is for Boromir!" The last thing Legolas sees before taking his second sleep of the day is the very shiny silver ring Galadriel had given to her husband at their wedding.
~~~
Far away in the laundry room, Boromir is inspecting a pair of very fancy Elvin robes. Celeborn is busy attempting to sniff out the pair of shoes that go with it, but to no avail.
"Cel'born?" Boromir asks, turning the robe's pockets inside-out in a hopeless attempt to find some pocket lint.
"What?"
"Would these robes look better with the blue socks or the green one's?" Celeborn looks up from his sniffing to scrutinize the cloths Boromir is holding. After a minute he nods and returns to his search.
Boromir rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Cel'born, you didn't answer me! I must know if I'm going to make G'ladriel fall for me!"
"Okay," Celeborn says, "wear the green one's, but this conversation didn't happen."
The steward's son jumps up and down in excitement before running off to the lavatories to get changed. Soon after the elf lord finds what he was hunting.
"Yummy, hot sauce!" he beams, displaying a giant bottle of death sauce. "Let's see...it says 'Warning! Only put one drop on your food at a time! Choking hazard! Keep out of reach of elflings.' So, I suppose I should put this is the kitchen because what fun is food without hot sauce? That's right, no fun." Celeborn skips out the room, mumbling to himself about the importance of hot sauce and Buffalo wings. He sneaks into the kitchen and switches the death sauce bottle with the olive oil bottle. Once he has completed his mission, the lord of Lórien has a good evil cackle before turning tail and bolting. The entire kitchen staff watches him exit, swapping amused looks before returning to their duties.
Celeborn catches up with Boromir halfway to the lavatories. The latter is wearing the set of Elvish robes which appear to be way too tight and short. There is a quite noticeable rip over one of the sleeves. His locks are braided messily and covered in Arwen's hair ornaments. The elf's jaw drops in shock.
"I *know* the robes need to be lengthened, but aren't the braids to die for?" Boromir asks, fingering one of the mini braids. "If you want I'll do your hair too, Cel'born."
Celeborn hesitates a second before agreeing. "I will let you *only* if I get to wear some fancy robes too!" Boromir smiles widely, grabs the elf's wrist, and drags him back towards the laundry room. The room is just as they had left it, only this time there is someone else standing there. The person eye's scan the young man's body, from his braided head to his green- socked toes. Boromir flinches visibly and Celeborn gets the chills. The new elf's eyes finally rest on the large rip.
"Those were my favorite robes!" The elf shrieks and lunges at Boromir who dodges just in time. The elf lord and the man flee, screaming from the laundry room. Arwen growls from her place on the floor, rises, and chases after the duo, yelling curses and threats in every language she can think of.
*~*~*~*
"Legolas! Rise and shine, I have some good news to tell you!" Aragorn exclaims, poking Legolas repeatedly on his upper arm.
"Go away," the elf mumbles, burrowing deeper into the covers. The ranger pulls the blankets off and throws them to the ground, flashing Legolas a very annoying smile.
"Guess what?" Aragorn asks while taking a seat at the edge of the bed.
"No way! It's raining blue pants!?" Legolas is now fully awake. He leaps out of bed and stares across the room at the door that Boromir and Celeborn have just entered.
The Mirkwood elf narrows his eyes at the son of Denethor, wondering if he is feeling well. Then he remembered the events of the previous night. Something was amiss, and the elf intended to know what it was.
Aragorn snickers slightly at Boromir before answering. "No, that's not it. There's going to be a huge party tonight!"
Legolas is intrigued. "Why?"
"Well, I don't rightly know, but Ada said that he needed to do something exciting to relieve himself of stress. He said to dress in your finest clothing for it will be very formal. Nobles from all over are going to attend! Lord Celeborn, I'd wager your wife might even attend!" Aragorn turns his gaze to the elf lord and the other human who are taking turns jumping off Legolas's bed into a rather large pile of dirty laundry. Celeborn freezes in mid-air when Aragorn addresses him, but after a second the law of gravity remembers its job and pulls the elf rather forcefully to the ground. He looks up at the ranger with adorable puppy dog eyes.
"Can I have a cookie, please?" Celeborn rises to his knees and grasps his hands together as if praying. "Oh, and if you do see Galadriel, tell her that I'm not here!"
Aragorn frowns down at Celeborn, silently questioning the situation. Why would Celeborn, Lord of Lothlórien ever, *ever* bow to him? The ranger spins around and quietly exits the room, the frown never leaving his face. That was just too weird for him.
"Leggo my Eggo!" Boromir suddenly screams.
Legolas twirls around angrily to face the young man, and would have been red with rage if elves could turn red. The prince had an almost infinite amount of patients, but silly nicknames were one thing he could absolutely not stand!
"How dare you make fun of my name you...you...son of a smelly steward!" Boromir and Celeborn jump a foot in the air in reaction to Legolas's shouting, dropping the eggo they had been fighting over just moments before. The son of a smelly steward's bottom lip began to quiver. His hands twitch spasmodically and his eyes become moist. A few seconds later he bursts into very loud, wet tears. Celeborn is practically livid, entirely despising anything that would dare make his dear friend cry. And the 'anything' just happens to be our dear prince Legolas. The elder elf's icy glare rests on said elf and he quickly rushes to his side. Celeborn makes a fist and holds it threateningly in front of Legolas's face.
"This," says Celeborn, "Is for Boromir!" The last thing Legolas sees before taking his second sleep of the day is the very shiny silver ring Galadriel had given to her husband at their wedding.
~~~
Far away in the laundry room, Boromir is inspecting a pair of very fancy Elvin robes. Celeborn is busy attempting to sniff out the pair of shoes that go with it, but to no avail.
"Cel'born?" Boromir asks, turning the robe's pockets inside-out in a hopeless attempt to find some pocket lint.
"What?"
"Would these robes look better with the blue socks or the green one's?" Celeborn looks up from his sniffing to scrutinize the cloths Boromir is holding. After a minute he nods and returns to his search.
Boromir rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Cel'born, you didn't answer me! I must know if I'm going to make G'ladriel fall for me!"
"Okay," Celeborn says, "wear the green one's, but this conversation didn't happen."
The steward's son jumps up and down in excitement before running off to the lavatories to get changed. Soon after the elf lord finds what he was hunting.
"Yummy, hot sauce!" he beams, displaying a giant bottle of death sauce. "Let's see...it says 'Warning! Only put one drop on your food at a time! Choking hazard! Keep out of reach of elflings.' So, I suppose I should put this is the kitchen because what fun is food without hot sauce? That's right, no fun." Celeborn skips out the room, mumbling to himself about the importance of hot sauce and Buffalo wings. He sneaks into the kitchen and switches the death sauce bottle with the olive oil bottle. Once he has completed his mission, the lord of Lórien has a good evil cackle before turning tail and bolting. The entire kitchen staff watches him exit, swapping amused looks before returning to their duties.
Celeborn catches up with Boromir halfway to the lavatories. The latter is wearing the set of Elvish robes which appear to be way too tight and short. There is a quite noticeable rip over one of the sleeves. His locks are braided messily and covered in Arwen's hair ornaments. The elf's jaw drops in shock.
"I *know* the robes need to be lengthened, but aren't the braids to die for?" Boromir asks, fingering one of the mini braids. "If you want I'll do your hair too, Cel'born."
Celeborn hesitates a second before agreeing. "I will let you *only* if I get to wear some fancy robes too!" Boromir smiles widely, grabs the elf's wrist, and drags him back towards the laundry room. The room is just as they had left it, only this time there is someone else standing there. The person eye's scan the young man's body, from his braided head to his green- socked toes. Boromir flinches visibly and Celeborn gets the chills. The new elf's eyes finally rest on the large rip.
"Those were my favorite robes!" The elf shrieks and lunges at Boromir who dodges just in time. The elf lord and the man flee, screaming from the laundry room. Arwen growls from her place on the floor, rises, and chases after the duo, yelling curses and threats in every language she can think of.