Author: TICS
Rating: R
Summery: Glorfindel pays someone an unexpected visit.
Disclaimer: I don't own them…I just play with them for a while, and always make sure to put them back exactly where I found them.
Genre: Humor. AU…please do not expect anything even remotely resembling canon here. Feedback greatly appreciated…desired…wanted…needed…:D
A/N: I have changed the rating of this fic to "R" since it seems to be developing a tad more bawdier than I had first envisioned it to be.Chapter 22
For This Afternoon's Entertainment…
The Author stormed back into the House, still angrily muttering curses under her breath at a certain doddering old Maia. Entering the kitchen, she stopped dead in her tracks, the sight before her ripping a very loud, wet snort from her.
Glorfindel was trying to get Legolas in a sleeper hold, the younger Elf growling and bucking fiercely against the elder Elf's formidable strength. Erestor was whacking Glorfindel upside the head with a feather duster, screaming at him to "Let the Prince be…you're old enough to know better, Glorfindel…this is most unbecoming of an Elf your age!"
Haldir was attempting to cross the room to get to Legolas and Glorfindel, but Elrond had thrown himself on the floor and had both arms wrapped around the Galadhel's legs, screaming that "Kinslaying is illegal! Kinslaying is illegal!" even as Haldir slowly dragged him across the floor.
Thranduil stood between the two sets of struggling Elves, still dressed in his white leather jumpsuit, alternately snapping a scarf at each of the other Elves, while singing "It's Now Or Never" at the top of his lungs.
Elladan and Elrohir were just to the right of the doorway, eating grapes while they whistled, catcalled, and generally egged on the two sets of Elves on the floor. Every so often one of them would pitch a grape at the other Elves.
Galion stood near the back of the room, rolling his eyes and tossing back a very large glass of something that the Author was willing to bet was alcoholic.
Not that she blamed him.
Skirting the other Elves, she came to stand next to the King's butler, eyeing the glass in his hand. "Anymore of that left?" she asked.
Smirking, the butler poured a shot into a glass for her, then refilled his own. Clinking their glasses together, he said, "Cheers," as both of them downed the fiery liquid.
The Author set the tape recorder down on the counter and turned it on.
Author: Do they do this often?
Galion: Every chance they get. Sometimes over the most idiotic things…they once went at it over the last dinner roll…didn't matter in the slightest that the cook had an entire batch coming out fresh from the oven…
Author: I thought Elves were supposed to be basically peaceful creatures…
Galion: Right. Think immortal. Think same crap, different day - for eternity…
Author: So they fight because they're bored?
Galion: Oh…this isn't fighting. This is just roughhousing.
the tapes rolls on for a while as the Author watches Glorfindel continually bang Legolas' head against the floor, and Elrond sink his teeth into Haldir's leg
Author: Roughhousing. Uh huh. What about you, Galion…why aren't you participating in the, um…roughhousing?
Galion: Please. I'm above all this. Someone has to keep a level head or the entire place would fall to ruin.
Author: Aren't you afraid that they'll seriously hurt one another?
Galion: Nah. They'll tire themselves out eventually, then they'll all sleep like babies. Of course, then I get the immense enjoyment of having to clean up after them. So…who's it going to be?
Author: Who's what going to be?
Galion: Which one are you going to sleep with? Haldir or Legolas?
Author: For the love of Mike…NEITHER. I shouldn't have slept with either one to begin with!
Galion: Why?
Author: What?
Galion: Why? Why not?
Author: Because…because…I hardly know them. They each caught me in a weak moment.
Galion: Humans. I could never understand the way you people need justification for such matters. Well…unless you want them to beat each other every day for the rest of eternity, you'd better decide to sleep with one of them and end this. If Mithrandir sends you back with it unresolved, they'll be forever trying to decide which one you would have chosen, and I'll have to spend eternity mopping up after them. That would NOT make Galion a happy camper.
the tapes rolls on as the Author stares openmouthed at the butler. At this point Legolas has managed to flip Glorfindel over and is now in the process of trying to throttle him, while Erestor tries to snatch the Prince baldheaded. Elrond has managed to pull Haldir to the floor, but Haldir has Elrond's head caught between his knees and is trying to pop it like a zit. Elladan and Elrohir, having grown bored with watching the others, are now rolling about on the floor grappling with each other for no apparent reason. They rolled under Thranduil's feet, causing the King to fall over, landing with a thump on top of twins, flattening both of them to the floor
Author: You're all loony…each and every one of you!
Galion: You could always sleep with me…that would end it because it would no longer be a two-way tie, and the Rules of Engagement clearly state that if a third party enters the battle, then…
Author: NO! Don't even go there, Buttle-boy.
Galion: Come on…then you can say, "The butler did it." Or, to be more precise, "I did the butler…"
Author: ARGH!
Celeborn: What have I missed?
Galion: Legolas and Haldir are arguing over whom the Author will choose to sleep with, but she is actually going to sleep with me.
Author: No, I'm not!
Celeborn: Damn. Why is it that no one ever chooses to sleep with me?
Author: You're married!
Celeborn: Yes…but to the Elf-witch. You've met her…you know how freaky she can get.
Author: I'm not sleeping with you.
Celeborn: Come on…just a little?
Author: That's it. I'm going to bed.
Galion: Now you're talking…
Author: Alone.
Celeborn: What fun is there in that?
Galion: It can be fun…not as much fun as sleeping with the butler, though…
Author: You're crazy AND disgusting.
Celeborn: I'll sleep with you, Galion…
Galion: No, thank you kindly, Your Lordship. My broom doesn't sweep that way.
Celeborn: I want to sleep with SOMEBODY, dammit!
The Author gapes at the two Elves then swiftly grabs up her tape recorder, not bothering to switch it off, and, jumping over the wrestling Elves on the floor, dashes out of the kitchen, leaving Galion fighting off Celeborn as the Silver Lord tries to pull down the butler's leggings. Her last glimpse of them was of Galion, his leggings puddled around his ankles, trying to strangle Celeborn with his legging's strings.