Title: The Boy Legolas
Author: NoComment
Rating: R
Comments: Your job.
You need to understand. I am female, but this is not a Mary-Sue. I write Legolas as slash; just look at Meet Maria, Fear Anaheit. But I just couldn't resist doing this. No one has written one that _I've_ read, and I have no idea why. So _I'm_ doing it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Legolas Greenleaf, prince of the elves, was cold, dirty, and hungry. The mud had, thankfully, evaporated with the rain a few hours ago. Around him were the very outskirts of Mirkwood forest and, beyond that, grassland. He looked doubtfully at the dark-obscured waving grains. His mare, Thalami, shook her head and neighed. She wanted to go eat some of that nice-looking grass. Legolas wasn't so sure. Unexpectedly, he ached for the elf-girl he had left in that damnable tree.
*They couldn't even let us finish before they sent me packing.* Another throb, and no convenient elf-girl (he couldn't say maiden; there weren't very many of those left in Mirkwood) to assuage it. Sighing, he jumped down from Thalami's back and told her to go feed, knowing she would come back. It was time to put some of that woodland training to use.
*Hey, tree-brothers. Know any nice squirrels?* The trees never answered him like his father said they should; but at least he was being polite. The trees were the only things he took seriously about this "heritage." *Damn my heritage, I just want a steak!* The elves bartered with the men of Rohan for meat; only the stupid would ever think of keeping herdbeasts in an elvish forest. Honestly. There was a legend about that; some stupid humans had tried it, once. They were gifted to the trees- as fertilizer. He doubted it. The trees didn't eat human. *Eew. Who would eat human?*
A passing squirrel chattered at him. He leaped straight up into the branches after it, his muscled torso flashing white in the falling evening. The small animal leapt into another tree, higher up; he followed, ignoring the leaves whipping at his arms.
In the growing darkness, he could only track the squirrel by its chatter. Finally, fooled by the familiar surroundings and the chase, he leapt for a branch- and it wasn't there. Only a few feet above the ground, the fall bruised nothing but his ego and his chances of dinner.
*Where the hell am I?* The trees chuckled behind his back. He whipped around to confront him. "Oh, yeah? Well, you could have warned me, you know! Told me you weren't there! You know, maybe _not_ let that stupid, tasteless rodent get away! I'm _hungry_, you know! Your bloody fault, you stupid forest."
Okay, maybe he didn't take the trees _that_ seriously. But I had you fooled for a minute, didn't I.
So, that is how it came to be that Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood, was sleeping with his head pillowed on his horse at the very fringes of Mirkwood, dirty, cold, half-naked, and hungry.
Author: NoComment
Rating: R
Comments: Your job.
You need to understand. I am female, but this is not a Mary-Sue. I write Legolas as slash; just look at Meet Maria, Fear Anaheit. But I just couldn't resist doing this. No one has written one that _I've_ read, and I have no idea why. So _I'm_ doing it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Legolas Greenleaf, prince of the elves, was cold, dirty, and hungry. The mud had, thankfully, evaporated with the rain a few hours ago. Around him were the very outskirts of Mirkwood forest and, beyond that, grassland. He looked doubtfully at the dark-obscured waving grains. His mare, Thalami, shook her head and neighed. She wanted to go eat some of that nice-looking grass. Legolas wasn't so sure. Unexpectedly, he ached for the elf-girl he had left in that damnable tree.
*They couldn't even let us finish before they sent me packing.* Another throb, and no convenient elf-girl (he couldn't say maiden; there weren't very many of those left in Mirkwood) to assuage it. Sighing, he jumped down from Thalami's back and told her to go feed, knowing she would come back. It was time to put some of that woodland training to use.
*Hey, tree-brothers. Know any nice squirrels?* The trees never answered him like his father said they should; but at least he was being polite. The trees were the only things he took seriously about this "heritage." *Damn my heritage, I just want a steak!* The elves bartered with the men of Rohan for meat; only the stupid would ever think of keeping herdbeasts in an elvish forest. Honestly. There was a legend about that; some stupid humans had tried it, once. They were gifted to the trees- as fertilizer. He doubted it. The trees didn't eat human. *Eew. Who would eat human?*
A passing squirrel chattered at him. He leaped straight up into the branches after it, his muscled torso flashing white in the falling evening. The small animal leapt into another tree, higher up; he followed, ignoring the leaves whipping at his arms.
In the growing darkness, he could only track the squirrel by its chatter. Finally, fooled by the familiar surroundings and the chase, he leapt for a branch- and it wasn't there. Only a few feet above the ground, the fall bruised nothing but his ego and his chances of dinner.
*Where the hell am I?* The trees chuckled behind his back. He whipped around to confront him. "Oh, yeah? Well, you could have warned me, you know! Told me you weren't there! You know, maybe _not_ let that stupid, tasteless rodent get away! I'm _hungry_, you know! Your bloody fault, you stupid forest."
Okay, maybe he didn't take the trees _that_ seriously. But I had you fooled for a minute, didn't I.
So, that is how it came to be that Legolas Greenleaf, prince of Mirkwood, was sleeping with his head pillowed on his horse at the very fringes of Mirkwood, dirty, cold, half-naked, and hungry.