Wow! Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! I really appreciate it—it makes me feel all happy and glowy inside. :) I'm glad you all like my little story so much.



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Legolas 1/2



Chapter Six





Legolas arranged the last fork in the place setting as his mind raced frantically--how could he avoid being seen by Aragorn? If no one could see him...and how would he accomplish that? As he adjusted a silver candlestick, Legolas came up with a plan--he would fake an illness to avoid direct interaction with anyone--especially Aragorn! Brilliant, Legolas, brilliant, he thought.



"Almost done?" barked the butler, his eyes boring into all the maids.



A general murmur of "yes" arose, and Legolas chose this time to act. He placed a hand on his forehead as he swayed slightly. Fiera glanced at him worriedly, but he waved her away with a limp hand.



"I'm--I'm all right," he murmured. His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground. "I just need--just a rest..." His eyelids fluttered, and he let himself fall to the ground.



"Glasa!" Fiera cried--he heard a sudden step, then a snort of annoyance, presumably from the butler.



"Take her away," he announced. "Jira will take her place." Legolas felt himself being lifted and carried a great distance to a firm bed and rough blanket. He let himself sink into sleep, thinking that at least this bed was better than Glasa's.



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Legolas awoke in the morning, blinking in the bright sunlight. He had slept in, something he hadn't done since he was a prince, not that he missed that life. Life was tough as a maid, but at least there was no

Thranduil.



A low rumbling distracted the elf from his musings. Of course, he thought. I haven't eaten since midmorning yesterday. He sipped the lukewarm tea from the tray beside his bed--pallet, really--and quickly swallowed the cool, lumpy porridge. And what is this? he mused. Almost-fresh fruit? Well, well...another luxury for the ill, I suppose. He quickly devoured the pear, even most of the core. It wasn't bad, not really.



The door creaked, and he glanced up. A white-clad nurse stood before him, looking down at him impassively. "Feeling better?" she inquired.



"Yes, yes, mostly. Ma'am." She looked at him for a moment, very hard.



"All right. We should, perhaps, keep you from undue stress. You will not serve at meals for two weeks. I am told that today you will clean the rooms in the north tower. Here are your clothes, and a lunch. Don't eat it too soon." She turned, leaving him alone again. He sighed. Back to work again...but at least I won't see Aragorn.



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The last room, thought Legolas, and then I can go back. He pushed open the door, dusting cloths in hand. A man was seated by the fire, reading a large tome. Legolas, unsure of what to do, decided not to announce his presence; he merely began his work. All the corners, he thought, and wipe it clean.



"Where's that polishing cloth?" he muttered as he searched the cleaning box.



"What?" said the man beside the fire, not glancing up. Oh, no! thought Legolas. I'm not supposed to speak!



"Oh, er, almost finished, my lord. Don't mind me, just finishing up here. I'll be gone before you know it!" Gods, now I'm babbling! Good thing I really am almost finished...



"Take your time, take your time, it doesn't bother me." Why did that voice sound so familiar? No—it couldn't be--



He quickly polished the last tabletop and packed away his supplies. Now, if he could only get out before the man--Aragorn?--looked up, he could disappear...he wouldn't be recognized...



"Goodbye, my lord. Thank you for your patience, my lord." No! No! Why did I have to go and speak? Oh, please don't look up, please don't look up...



Aragorn looked up. "Thank you for--" The words died on his lips as he stared at the quaking woman before him.



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Oooo....a cliffie! Hee hee hee...you'll just have to review and then I'll update and you'll find out what happens next! Thanks for reading! :P