Mercuria: Wow, um, what can I say? I ... uh, took a long time.

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings belongs to Tolkien, the first plan belongs to Monty Python (originally the Greeks), the second plan belongs to Terry Pratchett, and Nevladiel is mine.

**********

It was well after nightfall as the would-be rescuers made camp just outside Nan Curunir.

"Do we have any food?" Erestor wanted to know, poking their fire with a stick.

Elrond yawned.

"I am afraid not," he said. "I believe that Glorfindel said something about hunting, but in the interests of-"

"That's not our main concern!" Thranduil cried, his eyes glowing eerily in the firelight. "We need to formulate another plan to save Legolas!"

"My lord Thranduil is correct," Nevladiel said. "Fortunately, I have come up with a plan which I believe will be successful."

Thranduil grinned. Erestor, Glorfindel, and Elrond recoiled.

"Wonderful!" he said. "We will hear this plan immediately."

"My lord, would it not be better to-"

"IMMEDIATELY."

**********

Legolas looked down from Orthanc in confusion. There appeared to be some little specks ... about five, he guessed ... pushing a small wooden thing towards the doors of Orthanc.

"What in Arda is going on?" he wondered aloud.

**********

"Saruman!" Elrond cried. "We bring you this gift in order to establish our lowliness! We will now be going back to Rivendell to sit and do nothing!"

Everyone nodded emphatically as they pushed the giant wooden pony up to the steps of Orthanc. They then proceeded to run away quickly.

"Hmm ..." said Saruman, approaching the contraption. "I wonder what it is ... it's quite large."

He knocked on the giant wooden pony's stomach.

"And it's hollow ..." His eyes lit up. "It must be a pi–ata!"

Grinning, Saruman had a group of Orcs drag the pony into Orthanc. He followed them inside, rubbing his hands together.

Glorfindel, Elrond, Thranduil, Erestor, and Nevladiel slowly sat up and looked down into the Wizard's Vale.

"So ... what happens now?" Erestor said in a loud whisper.

"Well," Nevladiel replied, "Lord Glorfindel, King Thranduil, and I will leap out of the pony and attack Saruman, taking him completely by surprise!"

Everyone nodded, then blinked.

"Wait ... WHO will be jumping out of the pony?"

Nevladiel looked slightly confused.

"L-lord Glorfindel, King Thranduil, and I ..." she said slowly.

Erestor sighed in disgust.

"W-well ... perhaps if we were to build a large wooden N‰zgul ..."

Thranduil hit her.

************

Legolas sat on top of Orthanc, whistling to himself. Saruman appeared, but Legolas did not seem to notice.

Saruman coughed loudly. Legolas turned around quickly.

"Yes?" he said.

"I ..."

Legolas waited.

" ... have found ... a suitable torture method!"

Legolas gasped in horror, then blinked.

"No you haven't," he scoffed.

"Yes I have!"

"I say you're bluffing," Legolas said bravely.

"Oh, really?" Saruman said, voice dangerously soft.

Legolas gulped. Saruman cackled.

"Your torment, my prince, shall be slow, painful, and creative!" he declared. Very slowly, Saruman drew a leather-bound book from somewhere in his robes. He opened it- slowly- and began to read.

"Hey dol, merry dol, ring a dong dillo ..."

Legolas burst into peals of Elven laughter.

"You call THAT torture?" Legolas chuckled. He pointed to himself. "Elf. Poetry. Elf. Poetry. Elves. Like. Poetry."

Saruman paused.

"Well, it IS annoying cheerful and filled with nonsensical words," he said.

Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Saruman growled, tossing the book off the tower. "Then I'm cutting off your ears."

"AGH!"

**********

Thranduil woke up with a jolt.

"My lord?" Nevladiel mumbled sleepily. "What ails you?"

"Legolas is in trouble!" Thranduil cried loudly. Elrond sat up bleary-eyed and gave a great yawn.

"What has happened, Thranduil?" he asked.

"Legolas is being tormented! I can SENSE it!"

Elrond blinked, but Nevladiel sighed.

"My lord Thranduil, we have been through this before," Nevladiel said patiently. "You do NOT share a psychic link with your son."

Thranduil snarled.

"Yes I do! I will NOT be contradicted!"

"But my lord-" Glorfindel began; by now, everyone was awake.

"EVER!"

Elrond hit Thranduil with a pillow.

"You must stop doing that," he said irritably. "It makes me angry and upset."

"YOU make me angry and upset," Thranduil shot back.

Nevladiel glanced at Elrond apologetically, then shifted her attention to Thranduil.

"Please, my lord," she said pleadingly, "I beseech you to wait until morning. We will be more alert and more able to accurately assess the situation."

Thranduil growled.

"Fine!" he snapped. "I see where your TRUE loyalties lie, Nevladiel! With this ... this *fashionable* Elf lord and his minions!"

Nevladiel gasped.

"My lord-"

"I'm going to rescue Legolas, even if I have to do it MYSELF!"

And with that, Thranduil strode purposefully from the Elves' camp. For a long time, no one said anything.

"Tough guy to work for, huh?" Glorfindel said finally.

************

The sun peeked over the edge of the Wizard's Vale, painting the land in pale pinks and yellows. A bird sang a cheerful morning tune, and was promptly shot by an Orc.

"King Thranduil! Oh, where could he be?!" Nevladiel cried.

"Calm yourself, Lady Nevladiel," Elrond said. "We all know that Thranduil has gone to rescue Legolas, and is likely to be in Orthanc."

Glorfindel ran up to them.

"Everyone!" he said. "Through careful scouting of the perimeter, I have discovered that there is a convenient trap door by the wall. The door leads up into Orthanc!"

Elrond applauded. "Excellent work, Glorfindel."

Nevladiel frowned. "If we enter Orthanc by that route, will we not risk being spotted by Saruman's Orcs?"

"True," Glorfindel said. "However, I have a cunning plan ..."

************

"You know, people SAY things about Thranduil," Erestor said quietly as Elrond, Glorfindel, Nevladiel, and himself crept along the underground tunnel that the trap door led to.

"My lord Thranduil is a wise and benevolent ruler," Nevladiel said stiffly.

"Oh, right, of course, of course!" Erestor agreed. "However ..."

Nevladiel looked at him warily. "However?"

Erestor crawled closer to Nevladiel and hastily whispered something in her ear.

"WHAT?" she yelped.

"Shhhh!" cautioned Elrond and Glorfindel.

"But how could he- and with his SON? What idle malice led to the creation of these lies?" Nevladiel demanded.

"It's just what they say!" Erestor said defensively.

"All right, all right," Glorfindel said, standing up. "It is time to implement my cunning plan."

"Must we implement the plan?" Erestor whined, reluctantly pulling out a long gown. Glorfindel glared at him.

"In order to rescue Legolas- and, I dare say, King Thranduil- we will all need to disguise ourselves as women," Elrond said. "ALL of us."

"What does Isengard need with laundresses, anyway?" Erestor muttered sullenly, tying an apron around his waist.

"Silence!" Nevladiel whispered anxiously. "Orcs are approaching!"

Elrond, Glorfindel, Nevladiel, and Erestor shrank down into the shadows of the tunnel, scarcely daring to breathe. Once the last of the Orc footsteps had died away, they cautiously looked out into the stony corridor and scurried towards what looked like another secret passageway.

**********

Appearances, as many have found out the hard way, can be deceiving. Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel, and Nevladiel were unpleasantly surprised to discover that their supposedly secret doorway was in fact the main entrance to the Orcs' mess hall. As hundreds of thousands of beady (and bulging, and yellow, and catlike) eyes turned towards them, all four Elves found themselves, all at once, thinking the exact same thing:

"Help."

"Well, well, what do we have here?" growled one of the biggest Orcs, approaching the Elves.

"Courage, friends," whispered Elrond. "Now is the time to implement the cunning plan ..."

Raising his voice by an octave and a half, Elrond replied, "Why, sir! We are but simple laundresses, come hither to ... uh, launder!"

Nevladiel, Erestor, and Glorfindel nodded fervently.

"Oh!" the Orc said, looking slightly less as though he wanted to eat them (which, for an Orc, is positively contrite). "My apologies. Please, go about your business, ladies."

The four Elves grinned. That had been refreshingly easy.

"Thank you, sir!" said Glorfindel, also making his voice high. "We'll just be on our way, then ..."

"Hey, wait a minute!" called another Orc. "Since when do WE have bloody laundresses? I've never seen any here BEFORE."

There was a pause.

"Good point!" said the first Orc. It glared at the Elves with narrowed eyes, saying accusingly, "You're not laundresses!"

"Um, why not?" asked Erestor.

"We don't have any laundry here!" said the second Orc. "You CAN'T be laundresses."

"Um, we wash armor?" Nevladiel suggested.

"They're dirty spies!" came a new Orc's voice.

"Saruman'll want a word with THIS lot, no doubt."

Throughout this conversation, Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel, and Nevladiel had been slowly moving closer and closer to each other; now they stood with backs pressed together, glancing nervously at the vast sea of enemies. There was no doubt in any of their minds that they were all completely screwed.

"Let's run now," Erestor suggested.

**********

Mercuria: Oh my God, yes, it HAS been that long ... but the fourth chapter is done done done! Whee! Review!