CHAPTER 30 - Fair And Free
As the morning sun climbed, turning the sky rose-pink and forget-me-not blue, the travelling elves had their first view of Imladris, the end of their journey. Rays of the golden sun tickled the Autumn leaves on the surrounding trees, a waterfall splashed down rocky paths and the roves reflected the light like mirrors. A narrow bridge crossed over the speeding river between the elves and their home, and it was over this that they crossed.
"Welcome, princes of Mirkwood, to Imladris," announced Elrohir, "We told you it was beautiful."
Legolas looked around in awe at his new surroundings. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it, and shook his head. The twins looked at each other, and grinned widely, their eyes shinning. After a few moments, Legolas spoke.
"It is so. . . so light! So open!"
From the distance they heard a song begin, accompanied by a harp.
"That will be Lindir," said Elladan, turning to look in the direction the beautiful sound was coming from, "The only thing he ever thinks about is music, music, music. Silly creature. He always creates new names for everyone, and everything, so it is almost impossible to understand who or what he is talking about!"
"What is wrong with music?" asked Legolas. He was only half listening to the twins, as they giggled. Lady Celebrian rode up beside her sons and the young prince.
"Nothing is wrong with music, or Lindir, but Elladan and Elrohir tease him dreadfully."
The twins had the grace to look ashamed.
"That is not fair naneth. . ."
"He does not mind us. Really, he does not. . ."
Celebrian raised an eyebrow at her sons, as Legolas continued to gaze around, taking in the new sights and the strange, but welcome, smells.
"Of course. I am sure they were not real tears when you ruined his harp. . ."
"We said sorry!"
". . .or stole his flute. . ."
"We gave it back!"
"Only when your adar threatened to separate you until you did."
The argument continued between mother and sons for sometime, until a high pitched squealing sound was heard. The elves all turned to see the cause of the sound - a tall, dark haired elf maiden running as fast as she could down the path towards them with her arms outstretched. She flew headlong in to Elrond, who had dismounted after crossing the bridge, and was walking along side a golden haired elf whom Legolas remembered as being Glorfindel. The power of the impact knocked the elf lord to the leaf covered floor, winding him.
"Ada!" she gasped, "Oh ada you are back! I missed you so much! When the messengers got to Lothlorien, grandmother and grandfather let me come home to meet you strait away!"
Ignoring the muffled sniggers of Elladan, Elrohir, and a few other elves, Elrond peeled the arms of his daughter Arwen off his waist and, attempting to regain his dignity, stood up. He embraced her, trying to make sense of the fast flow of her words, before shunting her in the direction of her naneth. Before she reached lady Celebrian, however, she was pounced on by her brothers. Expecting a trick, she tried to pull away and run for cover, but she was caught fast in their arms.
As Legolas watched Arwen greeting her family, an image of his past flashed in front of his eyes. Instead of Elladan and Elrohir hugging Arwen, he could see Thellind and Nilwethion greeting an over excited Calensil, after returning from a training mission with the warriors. He bit his lip, blinked back a tear, and looked away. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off. Elrond and Celebrian exchanged sad glances. The wound the princes had received from loosing Calensil was as raw as it had been the day she was murdered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas looked around the pale, open room, taking everything in. It was not a large room, nor was it as showy as the chambers had been back in Mirkwood, but everything seemed to be perfect. There was no door and no windows, but instead there was an arch connecting the room to the corridor, three small, open balconies that looked westwards over a wood and two more small balconies that faced north.
Leaves had scattered in, and lay on the floor where the wind had dropped them. A double bed stood with its headboard against the wall, in between the north facing balconies. It was covered with silky, white sheets, with a couple of plumped up, white pillows. By one of the west facing balconies stood a writing desk with neat, ordered paper. A wardrobe stood not far away from it, and at the bottom of the bed was a large chest. On the floor was a creamy white rug.
"Just leave your things here for now, you can put them all away later," said Elladan, "Now though, I will let you settle in, and then take you on a tour. I will be back in a few minutes."
The dark haired elf disappeared through the arch in to the corridor, and hurried away to his own chambers. Legolas threw his few belongings on the bed. He half regretted not taking more, but the twins had shaken their heads at him, told him that hardly anything would be needed, and passed each other a meaningful look that they thought he had not noticed.
He picked up the brush that was lying on the table, and dragged it through his golden hair until he had defeated all the knots, and tamed the locks in to looking well behaved. Searching through his clothes until he found a dark green tunic, he opened the door to the wardrobe to throw the rest of his outfits in. . .and gasped. The wardrobe was already full with clothes - tunics, robes, leggings and cloaks were hung up, and on the floor of the wardrobe were a few pairs of boots and shoes.
Carefully, he closed the door again and threw what he wasn't wearing back on to the double bed.
When Elladan re-appeared a few minutes later, the elf was wearing deep blue robes with silver lining and a silver circlet.
"Ready?" he asked. Legolas nodded, and followed him out of the room in to the airy corridor.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the great, dark forest of Mirkwood, captain Silnan of the royal guard was fuming. He was striding around his office, muttering dark threats about the elves of Imladris to Culkemen who wisely stayed quiet, and Mithrandir, who sat smoking his pipe and glowering from under the rim of his hat.
"They have kidnapped our princes!" he seethed, "Kidnap! They would never leave their home by choice! Those half blood elves have poisoned their minds with lies about us! Making our princes believe that Thranduil hates them! Look at what has happened to Thranduil because of those forsaken tale- spinners! He lies in bed becoming weaker and weaker, unable to rule because all he can think about is his sons, who have been taken away from him!"
The voice of the captain rose like a storm, getting angrier and angrier with every step and every word. He thumped his fist down hard on the table.
"I swear that if those princes have come to any harm - ANY harm - there will be another kin slaying!" Silnan yelled, shaking with fury. Culkemen looked pleadingly at Mithrandir, but the old wizard did nothing yet.
"We should never have trusted them! Thranduil and Imlammthien, may she find rest in the halls of Mandos, ought to have known never to let Noldor blood in to the kingdom! Before they came, everything was running smoothly! We had no need of extra allies! As soon as they appeared though, just look what happened! Look! A day or two in to the visit, the princes were captured by orcs, then came back not knowing what was true and what was not! If it were not for those filthy, scheming, vile, half-blooded, lowlife . . ."
"Silnan."
Mithrandir took the pipe out of his mouth and stared at the enraged captain. Silnan looked at him, quivering with anger at the elves of Imladris.
"Silnan, that is enough." The voice of the old, grey wizard was stern, as if talking to a naughty elfling that had been stealing jam. He rubbed his tired eyes, and then said, in a much calmer voice; "It was all set up."
"Pardon?"
"The princes leaving Mirkwood. It was a set up."
The two captains stared at Mithrandir with disbelief written across their faces. Silnans jaw dropped open.
"So. . . the princes are still here? They are still in Mirkwood?" asked Culkemen after a long, dragged out silence. She moved over to stand next to Silnan. Mithrandir shook his head.
"Sadly, no. They are not. They are supposed to be, but they are not. Thranduil was supposed to ride out after them, catch up with them, and thus prove to them that he really does love them. Instead, as I was about to tell them where his sons were, he heard news of the orcs and went to kill them. When you found out what happened to them, he chose to let them go instead of bringing them home. The plans were ruined."
"Well if you had told us the plans. . ."
"Do not shout at me, Silnan! I am only trying to help!" It was the turn of Mithrandir to get angry. For a few moments, they regarded each other coldly.
"Very well," said Silnan, coolly, "Do not try to help us any more. We need no help."
Mithrandir dropped his clay pipe in surprise, letting it slip from his fingers and fall to the floor, smashing in to little pieces. Sad smoke drifted up from the broken object. The wizard sniffed, and tipped his hat at Silnan.
"Then I bid you farewell. I will find my way out."
Culkemen gaped with shock as Mithrandir brushed past her, and slammed the door shut behind him as he left. She turned to Silnan, who stood glaring at the door, clenching his fists.
"So. . ." she ventured, timidly, "What shall we do?"
"We do what we should have done as soon as we knew where the princes were," he growled, "We go to that accursed refuge they call Imladris and we bring back our princes before the king follows his wife and daughters to the halls of Mandos because they broke his heart!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Nilwethion and Thellind lay hidden, watching their prey. The prey itself was sitting alone, dabbling its feet in the river, a small pile of nuts and berries beside it, and a harp on its lap. The prey went by the name of Lindir.
He was singing quite a happy song about Melestel. Who or what Melestel was, none of the hunting party were sure, but so far they had come to the decision that it was probably the sun.
"On the count of three," whispered Elladan, "We catch him. One. Two. THREE!"
On 'three', the five elves jumped out from their hiding places, grabbed hold of a very shocked Lindir, and threw a cloak over his head. The elf was pushed in to the river and dropped his harp with a splash, and gave a muffled yelp. Five pairs of hands quickly dragged him out of the river, back on to the bank. The harp stayed in the water.
"Quick, tie his hands!" giggled Elrohir, "Oh, I missed being home!"
Rope was brought forth from somewhere, and Lindir quickly found himself being tied to a tree, the cloak still fastened over his head with a broach.
As quickly as they had appeared, the five attackers ran gleefully off in to the woods, back to Imladris. Lindir tried to get free of the bonds that kept him prisoner, but failed. The twins and the princes were very good at knots. He then tried yelling for a rescuer, but the cloak over his head muffled the sound. Eventually he gave up, deciding that he would have to wait for a rescuer to turn up. Glorfindel or Arwen, most likely.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hours later, and Lindir had still not been rescued. The stars shone brightly above him, but, with the cloak covering his head, the poor elf could not see them. He was very cold, as his clothes were still damp from being pushed in to the river, and his hair and face were still sopping wet. The day had been a cold one, so there had been no heat to dry him out.
At last, he heard the sound of light footsteps approaching.
"Hello?" he tried, but his voice was muffled. Suddenly, he felt the broach that had been keeping the cloak in place over his head being unfastened. As the cloak was pulled off, it caught on a bit of his hair. He gave a yelp. His rescuer carefully loosed the caught hair, and uncovered Lindir's face, smiling sheepishly.
Lindir shook the wet locks of hair out of his face, and then smiled thankfully at the elf looking at him.
"Thank you," he breathed, "I was stuck with that cloak over my head for hours! It was the twins again. They always do something like this. There was someone else with them this time, but I could not see who it was. Could you untie me please?"
The strange elf nodded, and cut the cords binding the minstrel to the tree with a dagger. As the ropes fell away, Lindir stumbled forwards to the river, and looked hopefully in to it's depths. There was no sign of his harp. His wonderful, sparkly new harp that played such good, clear music now belonged to the fishes. A small tear trickled down his pale cheek. The strange elf put a hand on his shoulder.
"That was my new harp!" he moaned, "Oh, my poor harp!"
The elf put something down on the leafy floor next to Lindir. The elf looked at it and gasped.
It was his harp.
"How did you. . ." Lindir looked up, but the elf had vanished in to the trees. He picked up the harp, and hugged it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Did you rescue him then?"
The golden-brown haired elf nodded as he sat down next to his younger brother.
"Did you give him the harp?"
Another nod
"Do you still think we ought to give him the flute?"
Pause. Another nod.
The silent elf clutched a teddy bear that looked as though it would fall apart any second, and looked eastward. His eyes misted up as he thought of home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Lindir is owned by Tolkien. He was in the books, but not the film. He had a whole *two lines*. Any guesses at who his two rescuers are? I gave you enough hints, so it shouldn't be overly difficult. I think I made Arwen a bit hyped up and out of character, but she won't be staying like this. She was just happy to see her family again.
REVIEW REPLY THINGY
DRAGONFLY ~ yes, Thranduil is a very stubborn old elf. He'd probably admit it himself. If they knew about the plan, the princes would have been heartbroken.
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ *blink* um. . .wow! *Now* I have 30 chapters. One is just an authors note. Why for Calensil's sake? She's dead.
MORBID MIND ~ *points to chapter* note the entrance of Arwen ;) ;). France was fun, except for the fish paste. That was manky. . .
ORODRUIN ~ I pity Thellind as well. I'm still trying to decide if he speaks again or not. It's the only part of the fic I'm stuck with.
CHRYSTYNA ~ as I said to ELIZABETHBLACK4, *blink* um. . .wow! You really think I do them justice? *hug* That was such a massive compliment! You'd be amazed how much it means to me.
GILRAEN3 ~ they don't hate Thranduil for not catching up with them, because they didn't know he was supposed to. They love him to pieces, but they left because they think that *he* hated *them*.
MOONMIST ~ *gobbles cookie & chocolate milk* Mm, very tasty. You must have an awful lot of Barbie's! How did you do the orcs?
EBONY FALCON ~ thanks
LARVLE ~ *looks around nervously* the real Emerald Queen is currently frolicking with the elves somewhere in Valinor. Yes, this is really Princes of Mirkwood.
CADGEDPHOENIX ~ I'm so cruel to poor old Thranduil. Making him all depressed and *that close* to dieing of a broken heart. Poor, dear king of Mirkwood. *Huggles Thrandy*
COOLIO02 ~ I've written more!
As the morning sun climbed, turning the sky rose-pink and forget-me-not blue, the travelling elves had their first view of Imladris, the end of their journey. Rays of the golden sun tickled the Autumn leaves on the surrounding trees, a waterfall splashed down rocky paths and the roves reflected the light like mirrors. A narrow bridge crossed over the speeding river between the elves and their home, and it was over this that they crossed.
"Welcome, princes of Mirkwood, to Imladris," announced Elrohir, "We told you it was beautiful."
Legolas looked around in awe at his new surroundings. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it, and shook his head. The twins looked at each other, and grinned widely, their eyes shinning. After a few moments, Legolas spoke.
"It is so. . . so light! So open!"
From the distance they heard a song begin, accompanied by a harp.
"That will be Lindir," said Elladan, turning to look in the direction the beautiful sound was coming from, "The only thing he ever thinks about is music, music, music. Silly creature. He always creates new names for everyone, and everything, so it is almost impossible to understand who or what he is talking about!"
"What is wrong with music?" asked Legolas. He was only half listening to the twins, as they giggled. Lady Celebrian rode up beside her sons and the young prince.
"Nothing is wrong with music, or Lindir, but Elladan and Elrohir tease him dreadfully."
The twins had the grace to look ashamed.
"That is not fair naneth. . ."
"He does not mind us. Really, he does not. . ."
Celebrian raised an eyebrow at her sons, as Legolas continued to gaze around, taking in the new sights and the strange, but welcome, smells.
"Of course. I am sure they were not real tears when you ruined his harp. . ."
"We said sorry!"
". . .or stole his flute. . ."
"We gave it back!"
"Only when your adar threatened to separate you until you did."
The argument continued between mother and sons for sometime, until a high pitched squealing sound was heard. The elves all turned to see the cause of the sound - a tall, dark haired elf maiden running as fast as she could down the path towards them with her arms outstretched. She flew headlong in to Elrond, who had dismounted after crossing the bridge, and was walking along side a golden haired elf whom Legolas remembered as being Glorfindel. The power of the impact knocked the elf lord to the leaf covered floor, winding him.
"Ada!" she gasped, "Oh ada you are back! I missed you so much! When the messengers got to Lothlorien, grandmother and grandfather let me come home to meet you strait away!"
Ignoring the muffled sniggers of Elladan, Elrohir, and a few other elves, Elrond peeled the arms of his daughter Arwen off his waist and, attempting to regain his dignity, stood up. He embraced her, trying to make sense of the fast flow of her words, before shunting her in the direction of her naneth. Before she reached lady Celebrian, however, she was pounced on by her brothers. Expecting a trick, she tried to pull away and run for cover, but she was caught fast in their arms.
As Legolas watched Arwen greeting her family, an image of his past flashed in front of his eyes. Instead of Elladan and Elrohir hugging Arwen, he could see Thellind and Nilwethion greeting an over excited Calensil, after returning from a training mission with the warriors. He bit his lip, blinked back a tear, and looked away. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off. Elrond and Celebrian exchanged sad glances. The wound the princes had received from loosing Calensil was as raw as it had been the day she was murdered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Legolas looked around the pale, open room, taking everything in. It was not a large room, nor was it as showy as the chambers had been back in Mirkwood, but everything seemed to be perfect. There was no door and no windows, but instead there was an arch connecting the room to the corridor, three small, open balconies that looked westwards over a wood and two more small balconies that faced north.
Leaves had scattered in, and lay on the floor where the wind had dropped them. A double bed stood with its headboard against the wall, in between the north facing balconies. It was covered with silky, white sheets, with a couple of plumped up, white pillows. By one of the west facing balconies stood a writing desk with neat, ordered paper. A wardrobe stood not far away from it, and at the bottom of the bed was a large chest. On the floor was a creamy white rug.
"Just leave your things here for now, you can put them all away later," said Elladan, "Now though, I will let you settle in, and then take you on a tour. I will be back in a few minutes."
The dark haired elf disappeared through the arch in to the corridor, and hurried away to his own chambers. Legolas threw his few belongings on the bed. He half regretted not taking more, but the twins had shaken their heads at him, told him that hardly anything would be needed, and passed each other a meaningful look that they thought he had not noticed.
He picked up the brush that was lying on the table, and dragged it through his golden hair until he had defeated all the knots, and tamed the locks in to looking well behaved. Searching through his clothes until he found a dark green tunic, he opened the door to the wardrobe to throw the rest of his outfits in. . .and gasped. The wardrobe was already full with clothes - tunics, robes, leggings and cloaks were hung up, and on the floor of the wardrobe were a few pairs of boots and shoes.
Carefully, he closed the door again and threw what he wasn't wearing back on to the double bed.
When Elladan re-appeared a few minutes later, the elf was wearing deep blue robes with silver lining and a silver circlet.
"Ready?" he asked. Legolas nodded, and followed him out of the room in to the airy corridor.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the great, dark forest of Mirkwood, captain Silnan of the royal guard was fuming. He was striding around his office, muttering dark threats about the elves of Imladris to Culkemen who wisely stayed quiet, and Mithrandir, who sat smoking his pipe and glowering from under the rim of his hat.
"They have kidnapped our princes!" he seethed, "Kidnap! They would never leave their home by choice! Those half blood elves have poisoned their minds with lies about us! Making our princes believe that Thranduil hates them! Look at what has happened to Thranduil because of those forsaken tale- spinners! He lies in bed becoming weaker and weaker, unable to rule because all he can think about is his sons, who have been taken away from him!"
The voice of the captain rose like a storm, getting angrier and angrier with every step and every word. He thumped his fist down hard on the table.
"I swear that if those princes have come to any harm - ANY harm - there will be another kin slaying!" Silnan yelled, shaking with fury. Culkemen looked pleadingly at Mithrandir, but the old wizard did nothing yet.
"We should never have trusted them! Thranduil and Imlammthien, may she find rest in the halls of Mandos, ought to have known never to let Noldor blood in to the kingdom! Before they came, everything was running smoothly! We had no need of extra allies! As soon as they appeared though, just look what happened! Look! A day or two in to the visit, the princes were captured by orcs, then came back not knowing what was true and what was not! If it were not for those filthy, scheming, vile, half-blooded, lowlife . . ."
"Silnan."
Mithrandir took the pipe out of his mouth and stared at the enraged captain. Silnan looked at him, quivering with anger at the elves of Imladris.
"Silnan, that is enough." The voice of the old, grey wizard was stern, as if talking to a naughty elfling that had been stealing jam. He rubbed his tired eyes, and then said, in a much calmer voice; "It was all set up."
"Pardon?"
"The princes leaving Mirkwood. It was a set up."
The two captains stared at Mithrandir with disbelief written across their faces. Silnans jaw dropped open.
"So. . . the princes are still here? They are still in Mirkwood?" asked Culkemen after a long, dragged out silence. She moved over to stand next to Silnan. Mithrandir shook his head.
"Sadly, no. They are not. They are supposed to be, but they are not. Thranduil was supposed to ride out after them, catch up with them, and thus prove to them that he really does love them. Instead, as I was about to tell them where his sons were, he heard news of the orcs and went to kill them. When you found out what happened to them, he chose to let them go instead of bringing them home. The plans were ruined."
"Well if you had told us the plans. . ."
"Do not shout at me, Silnan! I am only trying to help!" It was the turn of Mithrandir to get angry. For a few moments, they regarded each other coldly.
"Very well," said Silnan, coolly, "Do not try to help us any more. We need no help."
Mithrandir dropped his clay pipe in surprise, letting it slip from his fingers and fall to the floor, smashing in to little pieces. Sad smoke drifted up from the broken object. The wizard sniffed, and tipped his hat at Silnan.
"Then I bid you farewell. I will find my way out."
Culkemen gaped with shock as Mithrandir brushed past her, and slammed the door shut behind him as he left. She turned to Silnan, who stood glaring at the door, clenching his fists.
"So. . ." she ventured, timidly, "What shall we do?"
"We do what we should have done as soon as we knew where the princes were," he growled, "We go to that accursed refuge they call Imladris and we bring back our princes before the king follows his wife and daughters to the halls of Mandos because they broke his heart!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Nilwethion and Thellind lay hidden, watching their prey. The prey itself was sitting alone, dabbling its feet in the river, a small pile of nuts and berries beside it, and a harp on its lap. The prey went by the name of Lindir.
He was singing quite a happy song about Melestel. Who or what Melestel was, none of the hunting party were sure, but so far they had come to the decision that it was probably the sun.
"On the count of three," whispered Elladan, "We catch him. One. Two. THREE!"
On 'three', the five elves jumped out from their hiding places, grabbed hold of a very shocked Lindir, and threw a cloak over his head. The elf was pushed in to the river and dropped his harp with a splash, and gave a muffled yelp. Five pairs of hands quickly dragged him out of the river, back on to the bank. The harp stayed in the water.
"Quick, tie his hands!" giggled Elrohir, "Oh, I missed being home!"
Rope was brought forth from somewhere, and Lindir quickly found himself being tied to a tree, the cloak still fastened over his head with a broach.
As quickly as they had appeared, the five attackers ran gleefully off in to the woods, back to Imladris. Lindir tried to get free of the bonds that kept him prisoner, but failed. The twins and the princes were very good at knots. He then tried yelling for a rescuer, but the cloak over his head muffled the sound. Eventually he gave up, deciding that he would have to wait for a rescuer to turn up. Glorfindel or Arwen, most likely.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hours later, and Lindir had still not been rescued. The stars shone brightly above him, but, with the cloak covering his head, the poor elf could not see them. He was very cold, as his clothes were still damp from being pushed in to the river, and his hair and face were still sopping wet. The day had been a cold one, so there had been no heat to dry him out.
At last, he heard the sound of light footsteps approaching.
"Hello?" he tried, but his voice was muffled. Suddenly, he felt the broach that had been keeping the cloak in place over his head being unfastened. As the cloak was pulled off, it caught on a bit of his hair. He gave a yelp. His rescuer carefully loosed the caught hair, and uncovered Lindir's face, smiling sheepishly.
Lindir shook the wet locks of hair out of his face, and then smiled thankfully at the elf looking at him.
"Thank you," he breathed, "I was stuck with that cloak over my head for hours! It was the twins again. They always do something like this. There was someone else with them this time, but I could not see who it was. Could you untie me please?"
The strange elf nodded, and cut the cords binding the minstrel to the tree with a dagger. As the ropes fell away, Lindir stumbled forwards to the river, and looked hopefully in to it's depths. There was no sign of his harp. His wonderful, sparkly new harp that played such good, clear music now belonged to the fishes. A small tear trickled down his pale cheek. The strange elf put a hand on his shoulder.
"That was my new harp!" he moaned, "Oh, my poor harp!"
The elf put something down on the leafy floor next to Lindir. The elf looked at it and gasped.
It was his harp.
"How did you. . ." Lindir looked up, but the elf had vanished in to the trees. He picked up the harp, and hugged it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Did you rescue him then?"
The golden-brown haired elf nodded as he sat down next to his younger brother.
"Did you give him the harp?"
Another nod
"Do you still think we ought to give him the flute?"
Pause. Another nod.
The silent elf clutched a teddy bear that looked as though it would fall apart any second, and looked eastward. His eyes misted up as he thought of home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: Lindir is owned by Tolkien. He was in the books, but not the film. He had a whole *two lines*. Any guesses at who his two rescuers are? I gave you enough hints, so it shouldn't be overly difficult. I think I made Arwen a bit hyped up and out of character, but she won't be staying like this. She was just happy to see her family again.
REVIEW REPLY THINGY
DRAGONFLY ~ yes, Thranduil is a very stubborn old elf. He'd probably admit it himself. If they knew about the plan, the princes would have been heartbroken.
ELIZABETHBLACK4 ~ *blink* um. . .wow! *Now* I have 30 chapters. One is just an authors note. Why for Calensil's sake? She's dead.
MORBID MIND ~ *points to chapter* note the entrance of Arwen ;) ;). France was fun, except for the fish paste. That was manky. . .
ORODRUIN ~ I pity Thellind as well. I'm still trying to decide if he speaks again or not. It's the only part of the fic I'm stuck with.
CHRYSTYNA ~ as I said to ELIZABETHBLACK4, *blink* um. . .wow! You really think I do them justice? *hug* That was such a massive compliment! You'd be amazed how much it means to me.
GILRAEN3 ~ they don't hate Thranduil for not catching up with them, because they didn't know he was supposed to. They love him to pieces, but they left because they think that *he* hated *them*.
MOONMIST ~ *gobbles cookie & chocolate milk* Mm, very tasty. You must have an awful lot of Barbie's! How did you do the orcs?
EBONY FALCON ~ thanks
LARVLE ~ *looks around nervously* the real Emerald Queen is currently frolicking with the elves somewhere in Valinor. Yes, this is really Princes of Mirkwood.
CADGEDPHOENIX ~ I'm so cruel to poor old Thranduil. Making him all depressed and *that close* to dieing of a broken heart. Poor, dear king of Mirkwood. *Huggles Thrandy*
COOLIO02 ~ I've written more!