Disclaimer still applies.
Thank you, Asha! You made my mind start functioning again…questions are nice ^^.
This could also be called the Chapter of Much Dialogue. I hate dialogue…
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Chapter Three: I Deny"Would you like to come riding with me, Youngest Thranduillion?"
Legolas grinned at the old joke, and made as if to swat the rump of Elladan's mount. Having anticipated such vengeance, Elladan had already maneuvered Lassë out of harm's way. Legolas missed accordingly, and stepped in a mud puddle instead.
"Me? What have you done with your duplicate?"
Elladan rolled his eyes. "He said he'd be damned before he came out in this again. Not for another day or so, when he's gotten dry and warm and clean again. He was quite emphatic."
"Your brother is wise, mellon nin, and I will follow in his judgement. It would appear as though you and your lovely Lassë are alone on this one. When should those who are warmer and wiser expect your return?"
"Not for a week, I should say."
"A week! No small wonder your own brother wouldn't go with you, then. And besides, I believe you will miss the departure of the Ringbearer. I hear that your father has decided to pick a group of those who will accompany him," Legolas trailed off, leaving an unspoken question in the air that Elladan did not fail to notice.
"No, I'm not dodging responsibility! Father has already said that he is sending neither myself nor Elrohir," the elder of Elrond's twin sons smiled down at him, and added one last thing, "Speaking of journeys, Warmest and Wisest of Woodland Princes, I should be going now. Farewell, Greenleaf!"
This time, Legolas did manage to get in a "smack" on the mare's hindquarters, albeit a gentle one, and watched his friend ride away laughing.
The archer shook his head and turned away, bounding gracefully up the stairs and into a warm and dry hall of The Last Homely House. He meandered his way from hall to hall, intending to browse the library for something to do before dinner.
When he entered, he smiled; there was just something about books, and here they were- row after row and column upon column. He started to make his way over to one of the shelves, but stopped when he heard a shadowy corner murmuring softly. Oh…so that's what Aragorn meant went he said he was going to look for something in the library. So much for reading…
He went out the way he came in, and having nothing else to do, he merely let his feet and his mind wander. This found both at Elrohir. Well, the former at Elrohir's door, anyway. Shrugging, he knocked. And nearly fell forward when Elrohir opened the door; he must have been about to go somewhere himself.
"Legolas! I take it you turned down Elladan? I thought you would, being an Elf of such great sense, even if you are from Mirkwood." Elrohir winked at him, and fingered one of his friend's still-wet tendrils of hair.
Legolas overlooked the good-natured jibe, and raised an eyebrow. "He said he'd be gone for a week. Did he get hit on the head while you were out with the Rangers?" The blonde flicked the dark-haired Elf's ear, grinning wickedly. Delayed revenge is always best…
Elrohir put his hand to his ear and glared as best he could. "Hey! That stings…"
"I give you only what you deserve, mellon nin. Now, shall we be off to dinner?" He bowed playfully, gesturing toward the open door. His reward was to be shoved out by a snickering Elrohir.
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Elladan kicked dirt over the smouldering fire, and settled down onto his bedding. He'd been fortunate enough to find a patch of ground that was mostly dry, so he wouldn't have to worry about sleeping wet. Although he had done so, more than once. He smiled to himself and got comfortable, thinking smugly of his twin and his friend, warm and probably very bored. Unless, of course, they were up to some sort of mischief. This was not unlikely, and he had a flash of sympathy for Estel. Then again, it would probably be something most amusing.
He started to drift off to sleep, but though he caught a glimpse of motion out of the corner of his eye. He stayed still, feigning sleep, and watched. For a long while nothing happened, and he started to think that he was being overly sensitive. Then, when he was about to give way to sleep, a shadowy, but familiar, figure emerged.
"Legolas? Is that you?"
In the shadows, a memory came unbidden to the one whose name had been spoken.
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Laughter.
Not a cruel sound, but rather a happy one. So far as he could tell, it was the laughter of two.
Legolas, youngest son of Thranduil, threw another rock into the little pool of water, watching the ripples spread until they seemed to consume everything. They even tried to leave the water, or so it appeared to him. He fancied that they might come up and swallow him, too.
Staring into the miniature waves, he didn't notice anyone come up behind him until he heard a voice from over his shoulder. It was a dark-haired Elf-child, possibly about his age. It was close enough.
"You're Legolas, aren't you? One of Thranduil's sons?"
Legolas scrunched up his nose- that's all anyone ever bothered to know about him, just that he was "Thranduil's youngest son," like it was some sort of title he should be proud of. At least this one knew his name.
"Yeah, I am. What about it?"
The other stuck out his hand, which was somewhat dirty, presumably from playing. "I'm Elladan."
Before Legolas could say anything, another young Elf popped up out of the foliage, quite filthy from head to toe, but otherwise he would not have been able to tell one from the other.
"I'm Elrohir! Wanna play with us? Arwen won't, because she's afraid of getting dirty. Besides, she screams too much. It's not as much fun with just the two of us."
The little prince's eyes lit up, and he beamed up at the pair from his cross-legged position at the edge of the water.
"Sure!"
With no further ado, Elrohir slapped him on the shoulder, and informed him, matter-of-factly, "You're it!"
The twins dashed off, and Legolas chased after them, laughing.
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"No. I don't know who you're talking about."
Blood ran in crimson rivulets across earth that was already soaked through, and there was only starlight to mourn the fallen; it paid him tribute in the silvering of his blood, paralleled only by the cold glistening of a blade in the night.
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.endchapter.
Heheh..I suppose that was evil of me, wasn't it?
It took me a while to decide which twin was going to get killed…I'm still deciding whether or not Elrohir should go, too. Perhaps reviews could persuade me to spare him…perhaps not.
I was half-tempted to write "Warmest and Wisest of Woodland Worthies," but that would have been too much. I have my limits, you know…I couldn't make Elladan sound that corny.