Celeborn's Club

by Erestor

Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Lord of the Rings.

Breaking News: Prince's Marriage Called Off; Legolas Says Mariel is 'not for me'

CHAPTER SIX

There was only one Dwarf in all of Ithilien. And he had a grudge against two Elves in particular: Thranduil and Celeborn. He had never liked Thranduil much after the Elvenking had locked his father away. He had never liked Celeborn after he encountered the Elf's wife, the Lady Galadriel.

Of course, Gimli did not like talking about Galadriel much. He was head over heels in love with her, but there was no way he was going to admit it. In quiet, dreamy moments he would imagine the fair Elf-woman with a beard. And this mental image was enough to send him into a pleasant delirium. Outwardly, he was very calm and dignified about her.

He had just visited his best friend, Legolas, who was currently languishing in a hospital bed. Now the Dwarf strode through the spacious Elvish building, on his way to dinner.

He had not anticipated the sight of Celeborn and Thranduil rolling over and over on the ground, kicking, punching, pulling hair, and yelling all sorts of terrible curses in High Elvish. It was rather shocking, but extremely enjoyable. Gimli stood in the hall for a few minutes, watching with interest. He couldn't tell who was coming off worse. Celeborn looked like a raccoon, with two black eyes, but Thranduil's nose was bleeding and he had a cut on his head.

"Good afternoon," said Gimli, after a few minutes of pure entertainment.

Their reaction was even more satisfying. Celeborn leapt to his feet, stomping on Thranduil's hand in the process, presumably by accident. Thranduil stood a little more gracefully, using Celeborn as a support, and succeeding in shoving the Elf-lord back on the ground. Neither Elf looked pleased to see the Dwarf.

"What are you doing here?" snarled Thranduil.

"Why, Legolas, I'm your friend," said Gimli, who knew very well that this Elf was not the prince. "How could you treat me like this?"

Thranduil was nonplused. He paused, attempting to get his act together. Celeborn sniggered.

"Why were you attacking poor Lord Celeborn?" asked Gimli, feigning innocence.

Celeborn was not pleased to be called 'poor'. This time it was Thranduil's turn to snigger. The stately Elf-Lord glowered at the younger Elvenking.

"Your fans are looking for you," said Gimli to Thranduil. "They've heard of your refusal to marry Mariel, and are most excited."

Thranduil winced. "I'm in no condition to meet my fans," he said firmly.

"Oh no!" said Gimli. "They're sadistic! They'd love to see you in pain!" He propelled the Elf out the door, where many beautiful females were already lurking.

"Legolas!" screamed a lot of simpering maidens. "You're hurt! Let us bathe your fevered brow!"

"I am not feverish," said Thranduil. "I'm wounded." He decided to act pathetic. "I've been attacked by a malicious impostor!"

"Impostor?" asked the maidens. "What does that mean?"

"An impostor is a person who assumes a false identity in order to deceive," said Gimli.

"I'm not an impostor!" said Celeborn, stomping onto the scene. "Nor am I malicious, you stupid buffoons!"

Thranduil sighed longsufferingly. "Wasn't that malicious, girls?" he asked.

The girls only looked confused. They did not know what 'malicious' meant either. Thranduil, seeing their blank gazes, decided to move on. "Good- bye," he said cheerfully. He hurried out of the room.

Celeborn, left in the room with the distressed maidens, knew he had to make something clear, and quickly. "I'm sorry," he said, heading for the door. "I'm married."

.

Celeborn's Club sat in a comfortable room in the main building in Ithilien. Lindir and Elrohir were playing checkers. Erestor was playing solitaire. And Glorfindel and Elladan were engaged in what seemed to be an increasingly violent version of tiddlywinks.

"Ha! My wink is in the pot!" said Glorfindel proudly.

"Your what?" asked Elladan.

"My wink is in the pot," said Glorfindel slowly, enunciating each word for Elladan's benefit.

"No, it's not," said Elladan, who had no idea of what Glorfindel was talking about, but decided that it would be wisest to disagree. Glorfindel's statements always tended to be somewhat bizarre.

"See that squopping wink?" asked Glorfindel, gesturing vaguely.

Elladan stared at the playing space. "Are you swearing?" he asked eventually.

"No," said Glorfindel, frostily. "And stop waving your squidger around,"he commanded. "It's bad manners."

"My what?" asked Elladan, alarmed.

"Look!" said Glorfindel. "I potted another wink!"

"I think you're cheating," said Elladan, going for the offensive.

Glorfindel and Elladan started arguing fiercely. Erestor sighed to himself, reshuffling his cards. Elrohir moved his checker a few spaces while Lindir wasn't looking. Suddenly, Thranduil stumbled into the room, just in time to get hit on the head by a flying wink.

The king sank into an understuffed chair. He looked at the club. "We need to do something," he said. "We need to think big."

"But we're having so much fun," said Lindir happily, before realizing that he was losing the game.

At that moment, Celeborn stumbled into the room, and collapsed on top of Glorfindel and Elladan's game of tiddlywinks, which was an unpleasant experience for all of them. Winks and squidgers flew into the air once more.

"Ow," moaned Celeborn, from the floor.

"We aren't doing anything interesting!" said Thranduil. "This club had so much potential! Now we're just lying around killing each other."

All of the Elves exchanged worried glances. "Are you all right?" asked Elrohir. "Aren't you having fun?"

"But why don't we go somewhere else?" suggested Thranduil. "Let's show Middle-Earth that we're Elves to be reckoned with!"

"How could we do that?" asked Elladan.

Thranduil thought for a while, concentrating hard on the problem at hand. Then he smiled. He chuckled to himself, and glanced at Celeborn with an amused gleam in his eyes. "Didn't you enjoy being aliens?" he asked them all.

Glorfindel grinned at the question. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

TBC