II

The two shadowy figures stood motionless, but John shifted nervously in his seat and tried to concentrate on what they were saying. Wished they would stop looking at him like that. Always dreaded meetings like this.

...and you sympathise, no word must reach the modern world of this. the first one was saying now in a soft, controled voice. It threaten's the entire kingdom.

Of course, but what about--

We see that our Prince cannot be erased completely from the texts, but strongly recomend you to follow these precautions we have detailed for you. Understand, he is most displeased with the situation as it is. The second cut him off smoothly. John winced and wondered, not for the first time, if they could read minds.

I'm not responsible for stray women. John insisted angrily. You cannot blame me.

But the first one swept back it's hood and surveyed him dispassionatly. You will surrender all texts concerning King Thranduil to us. He will not be mentioned in conversation or interview. You will pretend to know little about him and his history. You must never give a detailed account of his appearance, and discourage art wherever possible.

Thank you for your time, Mr. Tolkien.

And with no further words, the two elves turned on their heels and walked silently out of his office. At his desk, J. R. R. Tolkien gulped and shifted through his papers.

Some time later, Thranduil and Legolas sat comfortably by a large fireplace and watched all written traces of the Elven King slowly burn.