She sat alone at a table set for two in the Feasting Hall, a bit bleary-eyed for lack of sleep the night before. She'd tossed and turned nearly all night, worrying about this interview. Not certain how one went about interviewing a pissed-off Elf, her fingers played nervously with the tiny tape recorder she'd brought with her.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up, announcing his arrival in the room somewhere behind her. She couldn't turn, didn't want to turn. She wanted to run screaming back to her room and lock the door behind her.
His eyes were boring holes into the back of her neck, making her squirm uncomfortably in her chair. Visions of him standing there behind her, a smile gracing his full lips as he leveled an arrow at the back of her head raced through her mind. Or perhaps, it was his white knives that he was planning on using to detach the head of the writer who had dared take a muse with his name, and then dress said muse in nothing but a pink tutu.
Either way, it would be messy, and very, very painful - of that, she was certain.
He'd walked around the table and plopped himself in the chair across from her before she'd even realized he'd begun to move. His arms folded across his broad chest, he stared at her with unblinking bright blue eyes. She swallowed hard, as the gorgeous Elf across from her continued to make her squirm. He was dressed this morning in a simple dark green tunic and brown leggings, although, she thought, he could be dressed in a paper bag and still look wonderful. His golden tresses were pulled back into a single, long, thick braid that hung nearly to his waist. It was a while before she could convince her mouth to work. Pressing the 'record' button on the tape player, and summoning what little courage she could, she began.
Author: Um…Good Morning, Legolas…Your Highness…Your
Majesty...Your Excellency…
Legolas: Hmmph.
Author: I suppose you'd like to talk about the little 'muse' incident…
Legolas; Hmmph.
Author: You're probably wondering why my muse has your name…
Legolas: Hmmph.
Author: And why I've had him dressed in nothing but a pink tutu…
Legolas: Hmmph.
Author: Do you think you could possibly say anything besides,
"Hmmph?"
Legolas: Uh huh.
Author: 'Good Morning' would be nice, although I'll take "screw
you" or "drop dead," as well…
Legolas: I am leaning toward the last one.
Author: I take it you're still annoyed with me.
Legolas: Annoyed does not begin to cover it.
Author: Why?
Legolas: WHY?
Author: Let me rewind the tape, but I'm almost certain that,
yes…"Why" was the question being asked.
Legolas: Have you ANY idea what it is like to have your namesake
traipsing about the Internet, dressed in nothing but a strip of fluffy pink fabric, his privates and his lily-white rear bouncing around for all the world to see?
Author: …
Legolas: WELL?
Author: Just a moment…you gave me a visual there…
Legolas: Explain yourself!
Author: It was funny.
Legolas: What?
Author: It was funny. It was cute, and it was very, very sexy.
Legolas: Sigh. Have you any idea of the constant ribbing I've had
to endure from the others? The twins leave printouts of certain passages of your stories taped all over Valinor! Haldir calls me "The Poncy One…" Why can't you just dress him like everyone else? A nice tunic and leggings…a robe…Great Eru, I'll even take a clown costume at this point!
Author: Clowns scare me.
Legolas: You are insane, aren't you?
Author: Glorfindel thinks my mother dropped me on my head as an
infant.
Legolas: That, at least, would explain things.
Author: Lots of other writers have a "Legolas" muse…why pick
on me?
Legolas: YOU happen to be sitting right in front of me…besides
which, other writers do not make a habit of continually having me…prance. I do not NOW, nor have I EVER, pranced. I have also never flitted, jete-ed, frolicked, or, Eru forbid, swished. I do NOT chase after butterflies, and on NO occasion have I EVER been enthralled by some something shiny. And - pay attention now, this is most important - I have NEVER, EVER made advances toward a male!
Author: Never?
Legolas: Never.
Author: Ever?
Legolas: NEVER!
Author: Not even at your Majority Day Eve Party?
Legolas: …who told you about that? Tell me at once, so that I might
seek them out and gouge their black heart from their chest. Was it Elladan? It was wasn't it…when I get my hands on that scheming little bugger I am going to…
Author: Aha! So you have…er…
Legolas: It was eons ago…I was young…I was stupid…I was very,
very drunk…
Author: So…you and Elladan, huh?
Legolas: I really hate you right now.
Author: I didn't make you jump Elladan's bones.
Legolas: I did NOT jump Elladan's bones.
Author: What part did you jump, then?
Legolas: I did NOT jump on anything!
Author: So, what did you do, then?
Legolas: I…well, it's complicated…I…wait just a moment! You don't
know anything…you're just trying to get me to admit…ARGH!
Author: Elladan will tell me…you know he will. It'll be his version of
the events, of course, which might be slightly exaggerated, or one-sided…
Legolas: This is blackmail. Blackmail is illegal - even here. Not to
mention most unbecoming of a young lady.
Author: Blackmail is such an ugly word…I prefer coerced.
Legolas; Fine. What do you want from me? Gold? Mithril? A romp
in the hay, I suppose…
Author: Wow…how do you manage to keep all that ego stowed in
that tiny noggin of yours?
Legolas: I am waiting for an answer…
Author: Havo dad, Legolas.
Legolas: I AM sitting…what the Mordor are you talking about?
Author: Nothing, I just always wanted to say that.
Legolas: You are insane. Certifiable. Have you Orc blood in your
family history? That must be it…it's the only explanation.
Author: Hey…wouldn't that make me an Elf? A Peredhil, like the
Twins - about fifty times removed, but a Peredhil nonetheless! Orcs used to be Elves, right…wow…I may have to get my ears done when I get home…
Legolas: This interview is over. I am going to find Elrond and see if
he has anything that might possibly knock you out until we can send you back.
Author: C'mon, admit it…you want to laugh…you know you do…
Legolas: I do not feel like laughing. You are a crazy woman.
Author: A crazy woman, yes…but a funny crazy woman.
Legolas: All right…I admit it…you're a tad bit funny.
Author: That's better.
Legolas: Funny…looking.
Author: ACK! He has a sense of humor…
The tension finally lifted, and they laughed. He had a great laugh - deep, warm, and free, when he finally let himself relax enough to let go. Breakfast arrived, the servants finally having the courage to approach the table, having thought for several moments that the Elf was going to murder the young woman, and then they would only need to serve breakfast for one - after they'd cleaned up the mess they were certain he would leave.
No more was mentioned of the pink tutu - or of Legolas' impropriety on the night of his Day of Majority Eve Party…she made a mental note to ask Elladan about that one…