Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters. I have an uncle who looks a lot like Bilbo, but I don't think that counts. I also have an aunt who looks a lot like Bilbo, but I don't think that counts, either.
Chapter 4
Tiddly Winks
Elrond clutched his cloak tightly around his shoulders, walking into the bitter wind on the High Pass. Unfortunately, that did little to warm his nether regions, which were turning a pretty shade of blue. Sans leggings, he was freezing his ying-yang off. "And here I was, worried about sweating!" he thought to himself, as he struggled against the wind.
Winding his way across the twisting, treacherous path had been difficult, at best. He was tired, hungry, and freezing...in other words, NOT in a good mood. He passed most of the time thinking up inventive ways to torture Galadrial when he at last made it to Valinor.
Finally, he made it across High Pass and began to descend the other side of the Misty Mountain range. Luckily for him, it was late spring, and the Pass was relatively clear.
Using his walking stick to brace his footing, he found the way down just as, if not more, unstable as the way up had been. About halfway down the mountain, his foot hit a patch of scree that had been hidden under a thin layer of powder. Losing his balance, he began slipping and sliding, end over end, down the side of the mountain, collecting more and more snow as he went. Within moments, he was trapped inside a giant snowball, rolling at high speed down toward the rocky bottom.
At the bottom of the mountain, the snowball hit a large boulder and broke apart. Lying there, stunned, cloak thrown over his head, blue butt to the wind, was how Elrond the Half-Elven, Lord of Rivendell, Wearer of the Great Ring Vilya, was found by the Mirkwood scouts.
"Welcome back, Elrond. It's always good to see you," said a deep voice.
Elrond's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself looking into the twinkling, sapphire blue eyes of the golden haired King of Mirkwood.
"Of course, we've seen a little MORE of you today than would be normal..." Thranduil chuckled, obviously more than a little amused.
"Got a good, long look, did you, Thranduil? Didn't mean to show you up, you know..." Elrond said, closing his eyes again. He had a terrific headache, and every bone in body ached.
"LONG is not a word that I believe applies in your situation, Elrond," Thranduil shot back, laughing heartily at Elrond's expense. "Pray, tell me how you came to be rolling into my forest bare butt naked ...I thought you would be in Valinor doing the Big Nasty with Celebrian by now.'
"That WAS my intention, and I'll thank you not to refer to it so crudely," Elrond declared, trying to regain some dignity. "It was due to circumstances completely beyond my control that the ship sailed without me."
"Galadrial?" Thranduil asked, arching a brow.
"Aye. Or, as I prefer to call her, The Beastbitch of Lorien," Elrond sullenly replied. "As to how I came to be without leggings - it is a long, tiresome story that I will not use to bore you."
"Elrond, any story that involves YOU losing your knickers and ending up in giant snowball at the edge of my forest, could not possibly be boring," Thranduil said, clapping Elrond on the shoulder. "But I am sure my entire court will be equally enthralled as I when you tell it tonight at the celebration I have planned for you."
"I don't suppose you'll consider letting me beg off, will you? After all I did take a bit of a tumble today..."
"Not a chance, Elrond. The healers say that you're fine...I expect you to be there with balls on...er, bells on," Thranduil declared, rising from Elrond's bed, humor still evident in his voice. "I will see you tonight at dinner."
Elrond rolled his eyes, sighing. "I knew I wouldn't hear the end of it," he thought, watching Thranduil sweep from the room. Sighing again, he resigned himself to having to tell the whole embarrassing story that night at dinner.
Slowly, feeling every one of his 7,000 years, Elrond rose from the bed. He noted that formal robes had been provided for him, and hung neatly in the wardrobe next to the bed.
A servant stood respectfully nearby, ready to attend Elrond in his bath and dressing. The hot bath helped his aching bones, and, after he had dressed, he sat at the dressing table allowing the servant to fuss with his hair. He actually began to feel a little like his old self again.
'We'll see how long the court laughs at my expense tonight..." Elrond thought, as the attendant dutifully braided his hair, "after I tell them the story of that night in The Golden Wood of Lorien when Thranduil got so stone drunk that he made a pass at Haldir, and nearly got beaten to death for it!"
His ministrations ended, the servant bowed to Elrond, and left the room. Elrond stood before a long reflecting glass, collecting his thoughts before he needed to leave for the celebration.
"It could be worse," he thought, smoothing a wrinkle in the fine formal robes lent him by Thranduil. "At least Legolas and Gimli aren't here...Eru knows what torture I'd have to endure at the hands of the Dwarf."
His eye caught movement from behind him reflected in the glass, and he turned to face the door.
"Laddie!"