HP/LOTR crossover

Note: All notes, important or otherwise are posted at the top of the prologue. I will add more notes when I feel it is necessary. Note containing information on other stories or general info-updates are and will be posted on my bio page. Feel free to browse, it's what it's there for.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT, AND WILL NEVER CLAIM OWNERSHIP OVER HARRY POTTER AND ITS CHARACTERS OR LORD OF THE RINGS AND ITS CHARACTERS.

Sixteen: Enter Thranduil and Partner.

Harry lay on his stomach on the floor of Legolas' Talan.

Legolas himself was in the bathing room, soaking peacefully in a piping hot bath that had had ache-relieving and simple scented salts thrown into the water (dissolving almost instantly). The former Gryffindor smiled as he heard a series of splashes emanating from the room.

He lay upon a soft rug; his legs were crossed at the ankles and bending back at the knee. He had opted not to put a clean top (or any top) on after Legolas had left the room, but did slip himself back into his pants, thinking the rose-tinted cheeks of his Elven friend weren't due to the heat of the Talan.

He'd ordered himself a warm butterbeer from his bag along with his journal, a quill and some ink – forgoing the pen he'd usually use. He missed his home magical world.

He'd been writing about his days, feelings as well as various other items of news for near 15 minutes when there was a light knock at the Talan door. He heard more splashing coming from the next room and chuckled. Rising to his knees, he slowly worked out the kinks in his elbows and lower back.

"Could you please see who is knocking Harry?" Legolas called out from the other room.

"If I must." Harry drawled in mock-reluctance. "If it is Nanitta I'll just tell her to… come back later." The bathing elf clucked his tongue before releasing the chuckle that he had been attempting to mask. Harry merely smiled. He rose with two satisfying 'cracks' in his knees and strolled lazily to the door. He raised a hand with the intention of working it through his hair, only to find his dark locks still tied back. Scowling, he pulled the band out and loosened his hair up a bit. When he deemed it 'fit but only just', he opened the door.

What he was faced with shocked him; though the only tell-tale sign that this was so were the immediate raising of both eyebrows.

Stood on the landing outside Legolas' Talan were two beings, both Elves, and both were beautiful. One male and one female. They seemed to Harry, by the look of their garb, to be two very important Elves.

The half-elf stepped forward and peered closely at the male elf, purposely invading the other's personal space. Harry looked into the elf's eyes before allowing his own to trace the lines of the flawless face, neck, shoulders, hair… ears. Had Harry not known any better, he would have said that the elf stood before him was Legolas.

But he did know better, and the elf before him was not Legolas.

But they were obviously closely related.

A choked noise caught his attention and he stepped back away from the male elf, turning his focus on the female half of the pair. She was extremely beautiful; almost as beautiful as his Grandmother, but not quite. The unknown elf-maiden's eyes lacked what Galadriel's had; they lacked the sheer intensity, age and wisdom that the Lorien Lady's held. But the female before him carried herself with a dignified but at the same time, modest air about her.

Harry suddenly realised who they were and in his mind, he grinned.

He heard the bathing room door swing open and allowed his mental grin to become a physical one.

"Who is there?" Legolas asked as he towelled his hair with a drying sheet. In his bent over position, the Prince could see Harry's back only, and was not able to see passed the half-elf's broad shoulders: even when Harry decided to shift his body position so he was leaning against the open door with his arms crossed over his chest. "Harry?"

"I do believe, fair Prince, that it is your parents who are stood on the landing." Harry threw his head back and laughed at the sudden half of all movement.

"I do not know why you are laughing." The Prince grumbled as he quickly dried the lower half of his body and slipped into a pair of clean leggings. Harry finally managed to get himself under control and with a bright, beaming smile, he stepped aside to make room for the King and Queen of Mirkwood.

"Lord and Lady of the distance land, Mirkwood." He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "You may enter, but do so at your own risk." He put a hand to his face, masking his mouth from Legolas' view and tuned his voice down to a stage whisper. "Between you and me, he isn't very tidy."

"I'd kindly ask you to take it back," Legolas spoke up from beside the half-elf. "If I thought for one moment you would." Harry just smiled innocently as if to say 'who? Me?' and stepped away from the door. He held Legolas' eyes for a moment longer before returning to his horizontal position on the rug to continue his writing.

He dipped the nib of his quill in the ink-well (placed a safe distance away form his parchment) and let his thoughts flow through his fingers. He wrote whatever came to mind; feelings, events, current happenings… He had a mass of idea's swimming about his head and had started to write with a passion… which lasted all of a minute, as he felt two pairs of eyes on his back.

He dropped his quill into the ink-well and blew on the wet wording to dry it quickly.

"I do not stare at the Thranduil king because he dons a royal title." He said softly but loud and firm enough for them to hear and take note. "I feel it is not unjust of me to ask that you refrain from staring at the markings on my back. Not only do I consider staring to be rude, but it is distracting me from my work."

Legolas winced at the words Harry spoke. A topless Harry was an exposed Harry, and one of those was extremely difficult not to stare at.

"Ada, Atara." The Prince's soft Elven tongue reached his parent's ears, causing them to turn and face him. "Please, do not stare. He is right, it is rude." The pair started for a moment, mildly shocked at their son's words but soon nodded, seeing the error in their ways.

Harry sighed from his position. He knew he would not be getting anymore work completed should he stay in the Talan he was currently in. So he pushed himself up onto his knees and started to gather his things. He closed his journal after placing a bookmark in the page he'd been writing on and set it to one side. He then removed his quill from the ink-well, placed the lid for the well back on and screwed it tightly. He noticed excess ink on his quill drip onto the rug and clucked his tongue.

He waved his hand over the quill nib and the specks of ink on the rug, cleaning the marks completely. He then rose to his feet. He reached over to where Legolas had placed his clothing and other items and pulled a cloak form the pile. After securing it around his shoulders (not bothering to stop and pull a top on) he picked up his journal, quill and ink. Then, and only then, did he turn to face the three Mirkwood Royals.

Though only one caught his interest in that moment.

The Prince smiled at him regretfully. The blonde knew his parent's actions were what was leading Harry to his premature departure but could and would do nothing to stop the other from leaving. He watched the half-elf approach him and pull him into an embrace. He felt lips at his ear and smiled.

"I'll be back later. Take care of my things for me." He kissed the Prince on the cheek, followed closely but briefly by a kiss on the lips before pulling away. He turned to the too-shocked-for-words King and Queen of Mirkwood and bowed his head. Not a second later, he had apparated out of the room without a sound, startling both high royals so much that they each let out short cries.

Legolas heard Harry's laughter ring through his head and grinned a little himself.

"How is that possible?" Altáriël gasped as she peered at the empty space Harry had just vacated. She heard her son chuckle and turned to him. He had moved from his previous position and was now moving around the room. He picked up the bundle of clothing Harry had reached into before and dumped them on a chair in a far corner.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her husband easing closer and closer to a pile of weapons that had been haphazardly strewn across one of the sitting chairs. She saw Thranduil reach a hand out to touch one of them when Legolas' sharp voice caught both their ears.

"Do not touch them Ada!" The Prince strode across the room towards his father. He noticed the shocked expression on the King's face and inwardly winced. He had not meant to sound so harsh. "I apologise for my tone." He said as he picked up Harry's daggers (all six of them) and set them down again on the empty half of the table he kept his own weaponry on. He then moved back to gather the fighting knives, sword and the two odd sticks Harry had told him half an hour previous that were not to be broken or damaged in anyway.

"They are like no other weapons I have laid my eyes upon before, ión." Thranduil stated, walking towards his son slowly. "I assume they belong to your guest, Harry I believe his name is." Legolas laid the knives and sword beside his own pair of knives and turned around.

"They do belong to Harry. And such skill he has with them also." He began. "He surpassed both Glorfindel and Erestor of Imladris just this morn." The younger elf explained as he walked back to the chair. He picked up Harry's bag and placed it with his weapons.

"Surely you jest Legolas!" Altáriël exclaimed, coming up to stand by her husband. "To best Glorfindel is a feat that only Erestor can call his own. But to best Elrond's counsellor also? Surely not." She saw her son smile serenely and instantly knew his previous words were true.

"Do not mistake me Atara, Ada… Harry was challenged by Glorfindel; though their bout did nay last as long as the bout held between Harry and Erestor. They danced. It is the only way I can describe it justly. Neither could best the other much, and when would did, it would not be for longer than half a minute before the other would battle back."

Altáriël nodded her head in acceptance of her son's explanation. Harry was becoming quite the revelation, she thought. Besting the Eldest elf in Elvendom was not easy. And neither was it simple to best Glorfindel, but Harry did both… consecutively. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she looked back at her son. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" Legolas asked her cautiously. He knew that look in her eyes. And he wasn't fond of its meaning.

"Did I not see this same Harry make a rather intimate display of affection towards your person?" This line of questioning seemed to capture Thranduil's interest also as the king turned to look at the prince. Legolas just groaned.

x-x-x-x-x

After Harry had left Legolas' Talan, he allowed his essence to linger there for a moment or two to see how the King and Queen reacted to his disappearing act. His laughter sounding through the Prince's head told Legolas just how amusing Harry found the reactions.

When his essence finally caught up with his body, he appeared back in the waking world by the river that runs through Lóthlorien. He smiled at the glistening water, listening to its hypnotic song, losing himself in the mystical air of the location before removing his cloak and laying his half on the ground – half on a large rock. He seated himself on the area of the cloak that was on the ground and leaned back against the rock. He felt peace and hope surround his heart and sighed.

He started writing again.

'I have just left Legolas' Talan. His mother and father showed up at the door requesting an audience. I didn't read their minds per-se… but I caught onto a few stray thoughts. It seems my dear Princeling has been hiding things. Apparently, his birthday is coming up. His parents followed him here to Lorien so that they might celebrate it with him, as he had clearly neglected to take the occasion to mind when planning for this trip.

Or maybe he's like me in that respect. Maybe he never wants a fuss on his birthday, so hides. That said, I don't mind the receiving of presents at all. Colour me indulgent.'

He paused his writing and allowed his eyes to roam over his surroundings, smiling once again at the beauty or it all. He then let his eyes fall back to the page and continued his writing.

'Though to my knowledge, indulgent is not a colour in the known spectrum. I suppose if one should colour me anything… it would be frightfully profound. Or perhaps, stubborn? Fool-hardy? Typical Gryffindor? Ah! Red and Gold. Those are my colours through and through. Silver possibly too.'

He grinned down at hit own mentality, or lack there of, before closing up his journal and rising to his feet.

Perhaps a short walk before returning to Legolas' Talan would be in order.

Written by Messrmarauder (aka Ithil hin)