Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I definitely do not own Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd be rich and would be able to afford buying everyone Christmas presents.

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Mirkwood

Legolas and his father, Thranduil, were arguing again. Their fight had begun hours earlier, when Thranduil had decided to examine his son's face for the hundredth time that day. "Aaurghgh! A zit!" he cried.

Legolas was panicked. Not because of the tiny bump on his face (which was barely visible), but more at his father's reaction.

"It's okay, daddy. I'll fix it up."

"Legolas! I can't believe it! My only son has a zit! Oh, the shame! Oh, the shame!"

"Legolas rolled his eyes. "Calm down, daddy. I don't really care."

Then Thranduil went over the edge. "Don't care? DON'T CARE! By the valar, you are going to be KING one day! How will people be able to look upon your zit-covered face!"

By evening, their discussion had turned into a full-fledged debate about personal hygiene.

"Aragorn's King and he doesn't have to wash his face 20 times a day!" Legolas yelled, his patience having dissolved a few hours ago.

"Aragorn is a mortal! Mortals are ignorant and unhygienic!" Thranduil shot back.

"Oh, so you're saying Aragorn's stupid?" Legolas challenged.

"And if I am?"

"I'll have none of that!" the Prince of Mirkwood shouted, in a very un-princely manner.

A shouting match began, each elf trying to drown the other out.

A little while later, while both were trying to catch their breath, a timid knock sounded at the door.

"Come-in," Thranduil said through gritted teeth.

A servant opened the door and stepped into the room cautiously. "Good evening, milords."

He received 2 identical glares in reply.

"Wow, your Majesty, your Highness, I've only just noticed how closely he resemble each other," the servant commented, trying to win favour among them.

Unfortunately, he had said the wrong thing. Legolas began to go ballistic, screaming cuss words at the servant and attempting to attack him. Thranduil was thoroughly insulted, but his self-control was better than Legolas' so he merely said, very stiffly, "If you came in here only to converse with us, you are quite welcome to leave."

The servant took the hint. Just before the door was slammed in his face he threw a letter at Legolas and said, "This is for you from Aragorn, King of Gondor-"

SLAM. "And stay out!"

From outside the room, the servant rolled his eyes, muttering to himself about overly violent monarchs.

The Shire

In Bag End, Frodo sat at his desk, playing chess with Gandalf. The wizard was very fond of this game, but Frodo thought it was a waste of time. So, to liven things up, he had decided to make chess a way to win pipe-weed off of Gandalf.

"…Checkmate!" the hobbit crowed triumphantly.

Grumbling, Gandalf handed him his sachet of Longbottom Leaf. Then he watched as Frodo performed a very disturbing victory dance, involving much twirling, hip movement and mooning.

Soon an audience had gathered at his window. Among these people was the mailman. Old Gorbulas Hornblower almost had a heart attack as he watched the hobbit prance around, scantily clothed. "Impulsive young people," he muttered. "This new generation, I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

From inside the hobbit hole Gandalf wondered about the mental health of the hobbit. "This must be the influence of pipe-weed on him," he muttered. "What a disgusting addiction."

Mailman Gorbulas chose that moment to kick open the door of Bag End and barge inside. He was a rather crabby hobbit, and he was getting impatient waiting for Frodo to finish his dance. After all he still had to deliver mail to the rest of Hobbiton.

"Frodo Baggins!" he belted out.

The hobbit staggered up to him, dizzy from all the spinning and twirling. The mailman thrust the Aragorn's invitation into his hands and stomped out the door.

Frodo stared at the front of the card. There were two colourful birds perched on tree branches. In his impaired state, the hobbit saw them flying away. He dropped the card and started running around his house, chasing the hallucinated birds.

Rolling his eyes, Gandalf picked up the card and read the message on the inside. He groaned. "In Rivendell? At Elrond's house? What was he thinking? His father is going to fry him!"