Disclaimer: If I did own anything, which I don't, would I be here typing this!
A/N: Stupid plotbunnies...Yeah, it's got OOC-ness. It's really wacky. It's pretty disturbing. But I'm pretty sure I'mthe first one to do this. I hope you guys like it! And for the love of Elves, NO flames!
Legolas sighed happily from his spot under a large oak tree. Life was good. All of those horrid fangirls were gone from Greenwood. Why did those over raged hormone girls always go for him? Even worse was when they brought their Mary-Sues. He shuddered at the memories of the evil creatures and the disturbing things he had done under their Sue-ish spell. So, he tried to think of happier thoughts; like his childhood.
His first bow, going hunting with his father, his 1,000th birthday... But something was missing. He furrowed his brow in deep thought. Then it occurred to him:
Where was his mother? He racked his brain to think of at least something of her but nothing. Legolas didn't have one memory about his mother. Come to think of it, his father never had spoken about her. Ever. The only thing he knew is that he had one. How else did he get here? Unless, of course, he missed something during 'the talk'; and he was sure he hadn't.
The young Elven prince wouldn't stand for this (he was sitting at the moment). He quickly got to his feet and made his way to the palace. It wasn't very long before he found his father in the library. "Ada," he shouted, panting slightly from the run. "I need to know!" He dramatically fell to his knees while the king only stared oddly at his son.
"Legolas, what has gotten into you?" Thranduil asked. He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear this or not. He paled at the thought of the possibilities. "Dear Valar, tell me the fangirls didn't find you again!" he cried in a panic and shook his son's shoulders. The memory of seeing Legolas tied and gagged in only silky green boxers, covered in chocolate sauce and whipped cream, and surrounded by the little demons had given both of them nightmares for weeks. Thranduil was lucky he had gotten to him in time.
Legolas pulled from his father's grasp and got to his feet. He cringed at the memory. This was the reason for the weeks of therapy and his fear of chocolate. "No, it's not that," he said as Thranduil sighed with relief. "It's just, well, I can't remember my mother."
The king had a nervous look and turned away from him. "What? What happened to her?" Legolas demanded.
"My son," he said grimly, "I think you should sit down for this." Legolas grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat. He waited patiently for his father to speak.
"You see, Legolas, your mother was... I don't know how to put this gently." He took a deep breath. "Your mother was a Mary-Sue."
"What!" Legolas screamed and stood to his feet. He suddenly felt both nauseous and disgusted. "You mean," he said, his voice quiet with fear, "I'm one of them." Thranduil nodded solemnly and Legolas stared at him in disbelief. His own mother was own of those horrid creatures, and so was he! On second thought, it did explain why in his entire life Legolas had never had a bad hair day.
"Actually, you're only half a Mary-Sue," Thranduil added helpfully, trying to lighten the situation. Too bad it was the weight of an oliphant and it was crushing Legolas.
The shocked Elf seemed too dazed to hear him. "I can't believe you would stoop so low..." His voice trailed off and he sat back down limply.
Thranduil rubbed his chin as he remembered back to his encounter with the Mary-Sue. "No, I'm pretty sure we were laying down." He smiled to himself. "Then again, we also did it-"
"Stop it!" Legolas shouted and pressed his hands tightly to his ears. "I can't take it anymore!" He ran out of the library to his own room, where he then locked his door and, despite the fact he was a warrior and never cried, he did. Crying turned to sobbing, and sobbing turned to wailing like a warg in heat. Then, thinking it was the Mary-Sue part of him that made him cry so much, he cried again. By the time he was done, his eyes burned and his pillow was soaked.
With all his tears gone, he was left with the feeling of anger. Or was it embarrassment? Maybe revenge? Whatever he felt, it was now confusion.
There was a knock on his door accompanied by the voice of his father. "Legolas, I know that you're mad at me but I think I should explain. Please open the door." There was pause and Legolas remained seated on his bed. "Legolas?" Another pause but the Elven prince didn't move. "This is childish Legolas. Open the door!"
Legolas wiped his face with the back of his sleeve before cracking the door open enough for his father to see part of his face. "Go away," he mumbled and shut the door.
He heard a sigh from the other side. "I know you must be angry with me, but aren't you wondering what happened to your mother?" Curiosity got the best of him and Legolas opened the door. The king walked in and faced his son who had resumed his spot on his bed.
"Well, I suppose I'll start from the beginning," Thranduil said. Although Legolas looked at him with a bitterness, he listened intently. The king's face was dreamy as he once again recalled the memories of Legolas' mother. "Her name was Minyalhawielanwagrodwen, and she was the most beautiful Elf there was ever was and will be. Her hair was a bright gold that could put even the sun itself to shame. It cascaded down in a..."
A long, long, very long time later...
His father had been talking for what felt like hours, and very well might have been. Legolas began to focus his eyes and wake up. He'd drifted off between the description of his mother's eyes and her grace. But, oblivious to how long he was taking, King Thranduil continued to describe his wife with every adjective, metaphor, and simile imaginable. "...with skin so fair and silky as if Eru himself had-"
"Father?" Legolas finally interrupted.
He snapped back into reality. "What is it my son?"
Legolas gave an irritated sigh. "I understand that my mother was beautiful-"
"The most beautiful being-"
"Yes," he said now thoroughly annoyed, "but could you get to the point. What happened to her that she isn't here now?" The king opened his mouth to speak. "And please spare me the details."
"Very well," the king said. "I fell in love with your mother at first sight, being under the spell of the Mary-Sue... which I didn't know at the time!" he added and continued on. "We were soon married and you were born. And then, as suddenly as she had appeared, she left."
Legolas furrowed his brow. "Over the sea?"
"No," he answered and paused briefly. "She just disappeared," he said simply.
"Disappeared?" the Elf prince repeated. "So, one day she vanished into thin air and that was it? She never returned?"
Thranduil nodded sadly. "Yes, and I was left with you. I never found out what happened to her. Come to think of it, I haven't remembered her since you mentioned it today..." He turned to his son with a cheery face and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Now you know the truth. If you noticed, you inherited her good looks and perfection in everything. And if you think about it, you're lucky your mother was a Mary-Sue. Your archery skills are unsurpassed, and there many maidens who have taken a liking to you." He paused and frowned. "So have the fangirls and Mary-Sues..."
"Thank you, ada," Legolas said, feeling better about the situation.
The king smiled at his son and went to the door. He pause and took one more look at Legolas. "I hope you won't hold this against me?" His son shook his head and Thranduil left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Legolas sighed and laid back on his bed. He wondered where his mother was now, if she missed him, if he had any half siblings... He tried to clear his mind of the thought of that last thought. Truthfully, he didn't blame his father for falling for a Mary-Sue. After all, Legolas knew first hand how it felt to be bewitched by the creatures. He'd lost count how many times he had to suffer through a, what was it called? Ah, yes. The Legomance.
"Wait," the elf said and sat up. It had dawned on him. "Elves can get Mary-Sues pregnant?"
"Apparently so," a sugary voice said fiercely. Legolas winced at the familiar sound. With a feeling of dread of what he knew he would see, he turned around. Six highly pissed off looking Mary-Sues stood in all their sickening glamourous (and pregnant)beauty, each giving him a death glare.
The Elf audibly gulped. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. In other words, this Elven prince was a deep pile of goblin feces. And he did what every other poor character would do in a situation like this: he fainted.
THE END (or is it!)
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