AN: This is kinda short, but it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing.
This episode was partially inspired by the whole "tar-and-feathers" thing I tend to say at the end of my stories/chapters and by LucasArts' The Curse of Monkey Island. Story contains some references to that game.
Disclaimer: I own none of this except Belegdur (of course...the grumpy one would be mine). The rest belongs to Tolkien except El Pollo Diablo, which belongs to LucasArts.
(I'm still working on Beginnings, but I'm delayed right now due to a pair of major final projects due this week.)
Episode II: The Demon Chicken
It had been three days since Elladan's ill-fated Grand Plan had gone, well, ill. The only change it had brought about in Belegdur had been that the prince had been whining more than usual and terrorizing the healers with complaints that his head was aching.
No one dared tell him it was because of the seven large lumps someone had thought to plant on his overly-thick skull.
So Elladan had another Plan...another Grand Plan to punish Belegdur for his ill-mannered behavior.
He waited until the prince was in council to set up his plan.
Elladan carefully placed a bucket full to the brim of black, sticky goo he'd managed to swipe from some of the raftmen of Dale over the door to Belegdur's room. He also took a large feather pillow from one of the linen closets and placed it against the wall, in a spot next to the door where he planned to hide.
Then he heard an elf come fuming down the hall, and knew Belegdur was on his way.
He quickly took his hiding spot, holding back a snicker.
He figured it had to be Belegdur because he swore he could hear the plants the king kept in the hall withering from the angry elf's gaze as he went.
Then the door opened, and the elf who was entered yelped as a bucket of tar came tumbling down upon his head, covering him in a sticky black mass. With a war cry Elladan leapt forward and tore open the pillow, covering the tar-covered elf with feathers.
He stood back, admiring his work. Belegdur now looked like a giant chicken with glaring blue eyes.
Only...didn't Belegdur have brown eyes?
Oops.
"What do you think you're doing?" King Thranduil, who had come up to have a word with his third-eldest about not pestering the healers every five minutes for a headache remedy, roared.
Elladan managed a small squeak that sounded something like "eep," but no one could be sure because it was largely inaudible.
Now, the king was usually a wise and just elf who never lost his head except in extreme cases.
Unfortunately, this was one of those extreme cases.
Just as Elladan was about to resign himself to a rather painful death at the king's tar-and-feather-covered hands, he was saved by the most unlikely elf imaginable.
Belegdur.
The prince pushed open the door to his room, muttering about birds singing far too merrily for such a poor excuse for a day and elves wasting their time in idle conversation.
The king was distracted, and whirled about to face his son.
The prince turned a remarkable shade of white.
"Ai!" he shouted. "It's El Pollo Diablo!"
And before either the king or Elladan could say anything to the contrary, Belegdur took off down the hall as though a thousand orcs were on his tail, completely forgetting to stop and yell at Legolas (who just happened to be walking by).
Elladan snickered. At least Belegdur was humiliated, even if his plan hadn't quite worked out.
But, as he tried valiantly to help the king clean off the tar (which comes off with chicken grease, they say), he couldn't help but wonder if nacho cheese would have been easier to use after all.
Normally you know what I'd say here, but there's an epilogue of sorts to this episode that was inspired by a humdinger of a final project I have for an art history class.
Episode II.V: The Anguish and the Rapture
Elladan sneaked into the bathing chamber with a snicker.
Normally he did no such thing, preferring to knock first and announce himself lest he accidentally walk in on someone (like Belegdur) bathing, but this time he didn't want someone (like Belegdur) to know he was entering.
So he sneaked in. In his hands he held a book one of his tutors had once suggested he read to become a bit more cultured; a seven hundred and fifty-eight page biography of a sculptor who had lived centuries before Elladan was even born (which was a long time ago). He had tried to read the book, he really had, but it seemed to him to be useful only as a sleep aide, and after fifteen consecutive days of falling asleep book in hand he gave up.
He had brought it along in case he had any trouble sleeping while visiting Mirkwood, but now it seemed to him that he'd found a much better use for it.
Everyone knew that Prince Belegdur liked to retire in the evenings to bathe and read for an hour or so, claiming it helped him relax after a trying day.
Elladan snorted. It seemed more likely that all those around Belegdur had a much more trying day than he did.
He picked up the book Belegdur had set beside the ornate tub and read the title with a frown. The Anguish and the Rapture: Biography of Amrod Oronar.
He looked down at the book in his hand. The Anguish and the Rapture: Biography of Amrod Oronar. Elladan sighed in defeat.
His greatest plot yet...spoiled by his prey's rather questionable literary taste.
AN: As part of the final project for my class I have to read The Agony and the Ecstasy, a biography about Michelangelo. My reaction to it was much the same as Elladan's, except I haven't fallen asleep yet and might actually finish the book. No offense in the story is meant to anyone who liked the book.
Amrod Oronar is Michelangelo's full name (Michelangelo Buonarroti) put through a name generator.
Reviews? Flames? Tar and Feathers?
