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Legolas and Elrohir managed to cover almost twice the distance that a company on horseback would have been able to travel in their first day. They stayed far away from the roads and commonly used trails to avoid all contact with the elves in the region. The various patrols and troops spanning the woods were all but inexistent in the Misty Mountains, and painfully easy to avoid in the Mirkwood forest. Even if they couldn't scent the elves from afar, their hearing was much sharper than before as was their eyesight.
Only once were they pursued by a particularly skilled elf that had sensed their presence, and even then they were able to outrun the horse he rode. Legolas had taken the time to study the Silvan elf and had all but crowed in delight when he recognized him.
Elrohir! Wait up. We absolutely must take the opportunity to taunt him, Legolas called to his companion.
Why?
I know him, Legolas laughed. Trust me. The prick deserves it.
My, but you have a high opinion of him.
He has no bow!
What does that matter? Elrohir asked, a bit frightened of the answer.
We can charge him and he can't do a thing about it! Laughing, the blond circled back, leaving the harassed twin no choice but to do the same.
Elrohir followed a little hesitantly. He still has a sword, doesn't he?
He needs to be taught a lesson. The idiot followed us out here alone with nothing but a scimitar as his defense, Legolas said dismissively.
That's still a weapon, Elrohir said, vexed.
He won't have a chance to use it, Legolas reassured him.
The discussion ended abruptly as they came upon the mounted elf. Elrohir followed Legolas into a charge uncertainly, a bit shocked when the blond began growling and foaming at the mouth rather convincingly. Noting that the elf was right handed, Elrohir ducked to the left to run past the rider on his bad side. Legolas had no such inhibitions about the weapon, nor did he duck to either side of the animal. In a move that was brutal at best, he body slammed the horse's chest with his shoulder, forcing the animal to rear and throw his hapless passenger to the dirt. The move was unbefitting of a wolf, but it was effective.
Get his sword! Legolas called urgently.
It was only then that Elrohir saw that the elf had lost his hold on the weapon when he landed flat on his back. Still miffed with the blond, he moved in tensely, snagging the weapon by the hilt in his jaws and darting out of range. He was immensely startled beyond rational thought when he turned around to find Legolas struggling with the elf. The blond was obviously having way too much fun with the situation and had tackled the downed, unarmed elf. Snarling and snapping, though never connecting with flesh more firmly than a painful nip or pinch, he wrestled with the poor warrior ruthlessly, taking every opportunity to kick him in the gut and thighs while the downed blond elf did his best to fend him off.
After a few minutes, Legolas finally had pity on the tormented soul he was attacking and leapt away, running for the trees. Dropping the sword he had confiscated, Elrohir followed, glad to be away from the odd encounter.
Mind telling me what that was about? Elrohir asked, miffed.
I told you that I knew him, Legolas partially answered.
So who is he? Elrohir prompted. The archer seemed far too amused with the entire situation for his piece of mind.
My older brother, Legolas chuckled. He only laughed louder when the black wolf lost his footing at the news and nearly landed face first in the dirt.
WHAT? Elrohir exclaimed, aghast. You did that to your own brother? He paused, trembling slightly as he ran. It took Legolas a moment to realize that he was on the verge of laughing himself sick.
I'd get my father too, but I don't think that would be the best of ideas, Legolas commented lightly.
Probably not, Elrohir agreed.
They laughed for hours as they ran, making astounding progress towards the fallen prince's home.
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It had taken a few days of hard travel with few stops to rest or eat, but the wolf pair had arrived in the massive riddling caves that the wood elves called home. Elrohir was absolutely flabbergasted when Legolas brought him to a tiny hole in the ground and squirmed inside. The hidden entrance would be invisible to anyone even actively searching for it and if spotted for whatever reason would look like nothing but a pitted indentation in the soil. They wended their way through absolute blackness for nearly a mile in cramped, twisting conditions. At times, the little cave grew so narrow that they were pressed horribly to squeeze past. When he became stuck for the third time, Elrohir grew fairly miffed.
What kind of psychotic head case would build something like this? Elrohir asked tersely.
Actually, I helped dig out this extension when I was a child, Legolas responded. My brother and I designed it in a moment of sheer boredom. We're the only ones that know it's here.
Any particular reason it's this small?
Discourages anyone from using it even if they come upon it, the blond explained. That and we were children, as I said. They seemed larger to us when we were less than half the size we are now. We never got around to widening them.
How does fresh air get in here?
Very slowly. This route can't be used very often.
Not reassuring, that. How much further?
We're about a fifth of the way there.
WHAT? Elrohir exclaimed, aghast at the information.
It all depends on where you want to go. We're almost to a set of junctions. Be careful not to get separated from me.
Legolas hesitated at a widening in the tunnels, waiting until Elrohir brushed up against him before moving again. He kept his tail in contact with the black wolf while he moved forward, carefully lifting himself into an opening above their heads. Elrohir made four false starts before he found the proper tunnel.
Just how many passages are in this thing? he asked in clear vexation.
I never really counted, Legolas admitted. He took a moment to tally and tried to multiply without losing track of where he was. Four hundred and six.
Elrohir lost his footing in shock. Does insanity run in your family?
Legolas snorted. You can get to anywhere in Mirkwood through these things.
How long did it take to do this?
Many years, Legolas said. We'll come out in my brother's quarters. He sounded a bit smug. After all, we know he's not there.
Laughing, the two continued to the crown prince's room. There was a large tile on the floor in the corner that Legolas lifted to open the end of the tunnel and allow them out. Legolas leapt into the room and came to the shocking realization that he had gotten turned around. He wasn't in his brother's room. He was in his father's room. So was his father. The livid king was on his feet with sword drawn in a heartbeat. Legolas was having none of it and ran to his father, leaping up into the air to shift back to an elf so he could keep running. Witnessing the strange transformation and being glomped by a naked elf was enough to shock the king into silence and utter stillness. The sword clattered to the ground from limp fingers.
Elrohir watched warily from the opening to the tunnels, getting out in case he was forced to do something. As it was, he wasn't. Thranduil looked thunderstruck, eyes wide, face slack and arms still upheld where they had been when he was on the attack. Very delicately, he closed his arms around Legolas as if he was some gossamer being that might break at the faintest touch. With a ragged sob, he tightened his arms almost convulsively, clinging to his son with everything he had. He hadn't even noticed Elrohir and the black wolf was not eager to make his presence known.
"You're alive," Thranduil murmured. "Sweet Eru… you're alive."
"Stop the war," Legolas said, ignoring his father's stunned exclamations. Thranduil pulled back, jaw slightly slack from the shock of the sudden request.
"What?" he said numbly.
"Please, Ada, stop the war," Legolas pleaded. He correctly interpreted the slight tensing of the muscles through his father's back as an imminent refusal and continued doggedly, skewing the view of events to the angle he had lived it. "I joined my troop with the one led by Elladan and Elrohir. Had they not been there with their swordsmen when the orcs attacked, my entire troop probably would have been killed."
"That Peredhil brat's incompetence resulted in what happened!" Thranduil growled, still unaware that said brat was a few feet away from them. He pushed Legolas away from him, holding him roughly by his biceps and shaking him slightly as though the movement would force his son to see reason. "Look at what his failure has done! You're a mess. For the last year or more, you've been nothing more than a slavering animal!"
"The moment we realized something was wrong, they tried to get me to help. They ran their horses to death doing it. And during that time, I even infected one of my rescuers," Legolas said firmly. Elrohir wisely didn't correct that it had been his own fault that he had caught the ailment from the prince. "Just recently, it's only because of the Noldor that I managed to return to normal at all." There was no way in Middle Earth that he'd say specifically how they'd helped. Skewering his youngest son didn't put anyone on Thranduil's good side.
Stated from that extremely biased version of events, the twins came out looking like loving souls that were victimized by Legolas' carelessness. Thranduil didn't give up so easily, ornery to a fault.
"How can you defend the Noldor scum? They tried to kill you!" Thranduil snapped.
"So did you!" Legolas countered bitterly.
Jaw clicking shut in mute finality of the attack, Thranduil dropped his hands and stepped away, taken aback at the hurt in his son's voice. The subject was obviously a very painful one for the fallen archer. Thranduil looked away, unable to meet his son's reproachful blue glare. The redirection of his gaze landed his sights on Elrohir, who was still lurking in the corner of the room silently. Cursing loudly, he dove for his dropped sword. Legolas leapt between them.
"Out of the way!" Thranduil ordered, trying to shove his son to the side.
"No," Legolas growled. Elrohir, revert. Thranduil started to protest, but Legolas cut him off coldly. "Ada, this is my best friend, Elrohir."
Hearing himself named, he quietly reverted, flinging his raven tresses for effect and squirming a bit uncomfortably at the shocked scrutiny bestowed upon him by the angry king. He cupped both hands around his genitals in a rare display of decency. He cleared his throat softly.
"Pleasure to meet you," Elrohir quipped, unable to stifle his personality even in the most pressing of circumstances. "I'd offer to shake your hand, but well, you know." He nodded his head towards his occupied hands.
For a few terse heartbeats, no one dared to so much as breathe as Thranduil looked to be on the verge of blowing up. He was turning very red in the face and had started trembling. A weird grunting gurgle escaped his lips and the two werewolves wondered if he had accidentally swallowed his tongue in his fury. The king finally exploded, roaring with rapacious laughter and causing both of the younger elves to gape in shock.
"Sweet Elbereth's tit! No wonder you two get along!" Thranduil managed, snapping his sword back into his sheath. He shook his head in surrender. "You win, boy. I will call off the war provided that Elrond does the same."
"He's already pulled back and is speaking of 'cessation of hostilities' or some such. He's just waiting for your reply," Elrohir was quick to inform him. Thranduil arched one eyebrow at him.
"Indeed? Presumptuous of him," the blond king murmured. He turned to walk out of his chambers. "I'll inform the commanders. In the meantime, put some clothes on. Oh, and Legolas? When I return, I expect a full explanation of why there is a hole in my bedroom floor, and knowing you, a number of other places. The final tally will be impressive, I'm sure. Your explanation had better be good." With that, he swept out of his quarters, leaving the two younger elves to stare after him.
"You know," Legolas commented, "this is the first time you've ever shot off your mouth and not gotten us into trouble."
"Unfortunately, that's quite true," Elrohir admitted with a laugh.
The two wandered off in search of clothes as ordered. They were still stunned that it had been so easy to convince Thranduil, though a good deal of it had been a mental short circuit on the king's side at seeing his son return from the dead and a gigantic black wolf turn into his worst enemy's son. They slunk down the halls, managing to scare several maids into gasping at the sight of two naked elves roaming the grounds. In elfin kind, streaking was absolutely unheard of, too undignified for the average elf to attempt.
They skulked into a poorly garnished room and Elrohir quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at his companion. The furniture looked as though it had been greatly abused, the wood a collection of scratches and dings. There was a dagger imbedded in the wall. The bed was unmade and the pillows covered in drool. Dirty clothes and boots were strewn across the floor and leggings hung from various pieces of furniture. A pair of underwear was stuck to the ceiling. Books of questionable content were strewn across a desk and both elves were a bit scared of the sticky looking pages.
"This is rather… interesting decor," Elrohir commented.
"The description you're looking for can be summed up with a simple 'could you please gouge out my eyes now?' I think. And I agree, it's horrid," Legolas said with a shrug. "It's my brother's room."
"Yikes. No wonder you attacked him earlier."
"We're just here to get you something to wear, then we'll head towards my room."
"No offense, Legolas, but I don't think I want to wear anything out of that closet."
"You have no choice, I'm afraid. Your butt is too big to squeeze into anything I own," Legolas teased. "And for the record, I attacked him because he deserved it."
"He's perpetrated some offense worse than this room?" Elrohir asked, struggling to choose whether to be amused or horrified.
"Four years ago, he got me raving drunk and died my hair green while I was unconscious," Legolas growled, eyes glinting with repressed vengeance. "Right before a royal gathering."
Elrohir laughed, taking the clothes proffered him despite his former protests. The garments hung in the closet seemed to be painfully cleaned, leading him to the belief that a maid must be responsible for his laundry if not his room. He eyed the blond, trying to imagine the golden tresses in a vivid lime green. He couldn't quite do it.
"You know, your brother should return within the next few days and I think we can greet him before your father does," Elrohir offered.
"That would be great. Assuming I'm not tied up and beaten senseless," the archer muttered.
"Ah yes, the tunnels," the elf knight laughed. "What did you plan to tell him?"
"That a few rooms in the area are connected," Legolas said, shaking his head. He pulled an overlarge tunic over his head so that he would be at least partially dressed for the trip to his room. "He doesn't need to know that the entire kingdom is riddled with tunnels because my brother and I got creative in a moment of sheer boredom."
"Why am I not surprised?" a new voice asked. The two young elves looked up guiltily at the return of King Thranduil, the royal blond leaning lazily against the doorframe.
"Um, hello, ada," Legolas said guiltily. He offered him a little grin that resulted in a roll of beleaguered eyes.
"Why do I have the feeling that it would have been easier to have you still roaming my woods in naught but your tails?"
The two werewolves grinned unrepentantly. Life in Middle Earth was about to take a turn for the interesting.
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END
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