AN: Alas, alas summer is almost over. The fall is around the preverbal corner and with it comes everything else. For me, that means school, dance classes, and Girl Scouts. Of course, school also means more of an opportunity to write because I have a really bad tendency to work on stories before classes. Well, not really bad I guess since it gives me something to do that isn't reading science fiction before classes start. I don't know! Anywho, I promise to keep updating on a regular basis since I have days of and stuff in my schedule this semester. I thank all of you reviewers for putting up with my slow updates and, of course, your reviews! All of you rock like boxes of socks!
LJP: Thranduil's just a bit of a grumpy old king. He's got a few issues about acting like a proper father to his daughter. You know, I never realized that Algernil's name sounded so like the title of a book! I have read Flowers for Algernon, actually, but kudos on the awesome connection!
pixie88: Well, I'm glad you liked the chapter and I apologize for the mistakes. It comes from writing at really early hours in the morning. Sometimes my typing skills fall asleep before the rest of me. Algernil's one who knows how to play not only the politics game- The game her husband excels at and uses against his daughter.- but how to play the game around her husband. She's trying to see how far she can push him before deciding on what to do herself with the situation. I figured the same about the wine since they could leave it to age for a very, very long time. Not something you want to give someone with no tolerance for and who is rater young in elf years. I'm actually working on some brother/sister fun! Hope you like it!
Elven Script: Crashing computers is absolutely no fun! Mine did about the same earlier in the summer. I'm glad you liked the chapter and the fact Algernil asked Emma to stay with them. Hope you like this chapter just as much.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in Graduate School. All I own are Pointe Shoes.
"I do not understand how you move like that, Little Elf," Legolas commented, as his younger sister curled herself up on his bed, tucking her kneed into her chest and settling herself in a small ball.
There was something almost feline about her movements, as she settled herself into the thick blanket that covered the bed. She watched her brother with the same eyes a curious kitten would use. Eyes that could see everything and were interested in everything in the world around her.
Emma was only interested in speaking with her brother at the moment, though. The rest of the room lay outside her interest for now.
The young girl had exchanged her dancer's garments for what amounted to pajamas in the elven world. For her that meant a larger muddy brown tunic that had been given to her father, Mitchell, and he showed no interest in wearing at any time because of its ill fit and comfortable fitting breeches. Her feet were bare but tucked into her shirt.
Even her hair had taken a more relaxed appearance. The braid that had been in it earlier had been undone and the flowers that had adorned it sat in a neat pile on one of the stands near the bed. Emma's hair fell down around her back, spreading out behind her like some kind of strange lake. Well, if a lake could be made of silvery white hair.
"It's nothing," Emma countered, "Something they teach you when you learn ballet. I remember in my classes that when you danced without grace, Spiro would publicly humiliate you. I think his favorite insult was to claim that there were animals that had more grace than you. Not little animals either. The big ones from the Muggle world."
Legolas smiled and ran a hand over Emma's hair, spreading it out further on the bed. She really did have long hair and it was more than likely that someone had put it up for her. It was far too long for the young elf to put up herself. He'd seen her mother, Shannon, sit and put Emma's hair up for her before a dance. Shannon wasn't present at the moment, though, so it was more than likely someone had taken her mother's place.
"How did I know you were going to say something like that," the older elf stated with a laugh.
He'd heard her speak very fondly about her time in the Muggle World at the studio where she danced. It struck him as strange, though, because her time at the studio wasn't exactly the best. The people she danced with were unfriendly and unkind and made it known that Emma was not welcome in their ranks.
Still, Emma danced there. Of course, it was only because of the ballet and jazz teacher she had. There was something about the rather grumpy man known only as Spiro that had given Emma a reason to stay.
"Because it's true?" Emma ventured, trying to guess at an answer.
"True it may be but I'm sure there is something unlearned in your skill. Something other than your dancing ability," Legolas pointed out.
"But aren't all elves graceful? I thought it was just part of how we are," Emma asked, pushing herself up and resettling herself on the bed.
She pulled her knees into her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. Emma rested her head on the tops of her eyes, focusing them on the taller form of her brother. She moved slightly so she wasn't sitting on her hair which was rather uncomfortable no matter how one looked at it.
"Yes, Emma, all elves are graceful. It is something that separates us from the children of men, this natural grace we have. Still, the grace you dancers have seems to exceed our normal grace. It makes you appear something that is unlike every elf I know," Legolas answered.
With a thought, he added, "Though you probably will discount it, you are a very skilled dancer. Even my mother agrees with me and this was the first time she has ever seen you dance. That is something, you know. Impressing my nana like that."
At the mention of Algernil, Emma tensed. She pulled her knees closer into her chest and tightened her arm's grip around them. It was like she was trying to make herself into the smallest target possible though there was no one there to attack her.
"It was very nice of her to allow me to sit with you and Thranduil at the feast today," Emma pointed out, "she really didn't have to do that. I would have been alright sitting with the other dancers at the meal. It was only for a little while anyway."
Under normal, day-to-day, circumstances, Emma ate with her adoptive parents. She was more comfortable doing so and Legolas wasn't really keen on forcing her to do anything that made her uncomfortable. That was more their communal father's place in Middle Earth.
From time to time, Legolas paid the family a visit to eat with them. He rather liked Shannon and, of course, Emma and spending time with the two of them was really time well spent in his opinion. Of course, there was Mitchell, Emma's adoptive father. He didn't like living in Middle Earth and still hadn't forgiven Legolas for taking his daughter on a little trek through Middle Earth to discover her true identity.
It was strange that Mitchell never realized that it was Thranduil that ordered Emma's little trek and that Legolas could not refuse his father's orders without repercussions. The elven male figured it was just something the mortal man didn't want to understand since he wasn't the biggest fan of his new home.
"Emma, you had every right to sit there. My nana never had to give you permission to sit there. It was well within your rights as a princess to do so," Legolas pointed out.
"But Thranduil said I had to leave. Won't your mom get into trouble for not doing as Thranduil said?" Emma said.
The young elf was quite glad to be allowed to sit with her brother at the feast, despite the fact she was all but convinced that she wasn't going to be allowed to sit with him today. It was a known fact that Thranduil didn't want her around him. He had a hatred for her that was borne of the fact he didn't want to admit he made a mistake.
Rather than admit his mistake, he kept her at arm's length. Maybe longer than that, actually, as he really didn't like having her around. That was one of the reasons, Emma figured, for his treatment of her.
According to her mother, Thranduil treated her in such a brusque manner in order to scare her off. If he was mean to her, she would be afraid and not want to be around him. Though, Shannon had also told her adopted daughter that Emma was far stronger than he had ever anticipated. The former Emma was inclined to agree with while the latter she wasn't so sure of.
"My nana will not get into trouble with our father. He could never control her as he would have liked, I think. She wasn't exactly the passive queen he wanted, I believe," Legolas commented, in a hushed voice.
Emma gave a giggle, knowing she was being told something that she really didn't shouldn't have been told. She was sure Legolas really didn't mean to tell her what he had just told her but she wasn't sure.
"It was still very nice what your mom did for me. She really didn't have to," Emma informed her brother.
It was unspoken in her statement that she wasn't sure if Algernil had ulterior motives in her act earlier on in the day. Emma didn't know if Algernil wanted to be her friend- something she figured was highly unlikely all things considered- or if she was just stringing her along to drop at a later time. The latter was something Emma considered to be the more likely of the two scenarios since Algernil was married to her father and he wasn't the nicest of people to her.
"I think my nana was trying to be your friend, Little Elf," Legolas told his sister, "she was just doing something nice for you."
"You mean, she wasn't just using me as a way to get back at Thranduil for whatever he did to her either before or after she died?" Emma wanted to know.
Her words surprised Legolas. He hadn't realized just how much thought Emma had put into things. Legolas also hadn't realized just how observant Emma was to begin with. Observant about the ins and outs of royal life anyone. He was sure there were other things Emma was rather observant about that suited the young elf better.
"Well, 'using' is a very strong word to use, Emma. I doubt my nana was using you for her own ends. She may have been trying to get our father into a situation but she was not using you in any sort of negative way," Legolas pointed out.
He knew he was trying to justify his mother's actions but he didn't want to believe she would use Emma. That was what marked her as different from the father they shared. If anything, she was just trying to get a little revenge for Emma and, by including Emma in said revenge, it was making the action that much sweeter.
"Are you sure?" Emma asked curiously.
"Very sure, Little Elf. I have never lied to you before and plan on not doing that any time soon. My nana was just having a little fun with you. She was trying to get a little revenge for you and was letting you have a hand in helping that," Legolas assured his younger counterpart.
She decided to take her brother at his word. Except for when they first met- and that really couldn't count because she didn't believe him either- Legolas had always been truthful with her. Guarded sometimes, yes, but truthful.
"That's good," Emma pointed out, "I think anyway. I just hope that he doesn't get too angry with me and think I have something to do with all of this. That would make things worse, wouldn't it?"
"Don't worry, Emma," Legolas assured his sister, "If he tries to do anything, I am very sure my nana would protect you. She has always been good at things like that."
In his heart, anyway, that's what Legolas hoped. That she would take Emma to heart as he had done. The little elfling- who was creeping towards the head of the bed and trying to get under the blanket in order to get the few hours of sleep her Muggle World raised body required.- didn't need any more enemies within the palace walls.