Disclaimer: I own the elves, oh yes I do. All for me and none for you. But Tolkien doesn't like it, oh can't you see? He's takingthem back, away from me.
AN: Yea, another update. Ok, for anyone who's wondering, I will be updating Mists of Memory before another chappy of this comes out. It's about time I work on it… cheers happily Yes! School's out tomorrow, I'm a Freshman next year! Bye-bye eighth grade!
This is a kind of funny chappy, but the next one will be very long and way more intriguing… A. NuEvil, don't worry, you'll find out a lot next chappie!
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Legolas sighed and looked restlessly 'round the room. Although he protested greatly, he had been firmly told to stay in bed and not to move while his father and Elrond left to discuss the orcs. The twins had fallen asleep, nestled into their chairs.
He didn't want to wake them up, but he was so bored! As usual when he was bored, his eyes wandered and his mind began to work deviously. His eye fell on the bowl of still steaming oatmeal he had been told to eat. Definitely not his favorite.
His father had said he was being ridiculous, oatmeal was perfectly good. Well, he thought sneakily, if it's so good, maybe I should share it.
With a glance at the twins to assure they were asleep, the prince slipped noiselessly out of bed, taking care not to bump his arm in it's sling. The door had been left open a crack. Most helpful…
Gingerly climbing onto a chair, he balanced the large bowl delicately atop the frame. Eyeing it critically, he moved it a hair to the left. Still not satisfied, he stepped off the chair and rummaged through one of the many cupboards lining the room.
Emerging with a small vial corked with oak, the prince stopped cold as Elrohir twisted in his sleep, bumping into his brother. The latter didn't even open his eyes as he swatted Elrohir away. They settled and Legolas moved again, clambering back onto the chair.
Swirling the contents, (nearly dropping it in the process) his slender fingers uncorked the vial and held it over the bowl, neatly upending it. Sticking his index finger into the bowl, he stirred the mix.
Elladan stirred, his eyes slowly unglazing as he returned to the land of the living. Legolas slid off the chair and back into bed just as Elladan came fully awake. He stretched lazily and crossed the room.
Legolas watched helplessly as the twin began to ease open the door, so intent on not awakening his friend that he did not even notice the oatmeal teetering over his head. Teetered, teetered, but did not fall.
The prince watched in amazement as the elf closed the door back to its original position, just as slow and quiet. Was it possible he had seen it? No, the prince decided, he probably just had a lot of practice sneaking in and out of rooms.
Just as well. It wasn't meant for him.
Sitting up, he reached behind him and brought out one of the intricately designed pillows. Now that the excitement was over, he bored again. Sitting in bed was not one of his strong suits.
Spying the still-sleeping Elrohir, the wood-elf contemplated the idea of throwing the pillow at him and waking him up. No, too mean. Instead, he reached for a canteen on his bedside table.
Elrohir didn't so much as flinch as the first droplets hit, and Legolas, not getting the desired result, went ahead and deployed the entire canteen. Elrohir came awake with a shriek, twisting about so violently, he toppled of the chair.
Rushing footsteps sounded outside the door, which swung open quickly. The oatmeal tipped and fell, coating Elladan and spattering Thranduil.
The king surveyed the scene, one twin dripping with water on the floor, one twin spitting oatmeal, and his son sitting up in bed, eyes wide, cheeks pink from holding in the laughter.
"Green oatmeal, ion-nin?" Thranduil asked, raising an elegant eyebrow. Legolas responded with a barely concealed snicker.
Elrohir turned, brushing back his dark hair. His twin pushed the oatmeal back on his head and turned his vengeful gaze on Legolas.
"You're causing a lot of trouble lately, Legolas." The king remarked. "Oatmeal, water over my door, short-sheeting beds, fixing doors so the handle's come off in your hand, traps, switches, what next? I'll leave you to the twins, I believe they want to… 'talk' with you." He began to back out of the door.
Legolas sighed, extremely grateful that no one had mentioned his involvement with the honey.
Thranduil's head popped back in, eyes twinkling. "Oh yes, & you're grounded for a week. You should know better than to set traps along the main path."
Legolas slumped, breath coming out in a huff. "Again?" He asked the empty air. "But I just got off yesterday!" He eyed the twins warily. "And it's dangerous in here!"
Click.
"You--you!" Sputtered Elladan. His fair skin was now tinged a light green.
The wood-elf laughed, but the usual bell-like tone was missing, he was more nervous than mirthful. "I did not mean to get you. It was supposed to get Ada."
"Oh, and I suppose all of your pranks backfire on unsuspecting guests?"
"No, not really. If they backfire at all, they usually get me. You're jinxed." The twins advanced a step and his eyes widened in alarm. Putting one foot on the floor, he gauged the distance to the door and the time it would take to get out.
Elrohir hesitated. "Wait, gwador-nin. Proper revenge can't be taken now. He has to be able to defend himself."
"Good point, 'Ro. We'll wait a couple days."
Legolas watched as they headed out the door. "That's a lovely color on you!" he called, and immediately regretted it. The looks in their eyes made him wonder if it was a good idea to let them have a few days to think about their revenge.
His mind went through about twenty counter-pranks before he calmed himself. He would have to see how the twins worked before deciding how to fight back.
His eyes fell on his knives, which had been brought back an hour earlier. Orc blood no longer covered the blades. The metal etched with an intricate leaf design, gleamed in a shaft of sunlight.
Stretching out a finger, he traced the curve of the blade, almost trancelike. Seeing the battle in memory, as though it was happening in front of his eyes, he searched for his mistakes. His trainer, Valamas had taught him that. Valamas…
Mirkwood's weapon trainer was quite possible the grumpiest, toughest elf in all of Middle Earth. Common rumor had it that he wasn't an elf at all, but a shell with a heart of stone and brilliant reflexes and battle techniques. And a quick temper. Not even Legolas dared to trick or poke fun at him.
Drawing such unpleasant thoughts from his mind, Legolas' attention next fell on a tapestry on the opposite wall. No direct scene was immediately apparent, but if you simply gazed at it and let your eyes glaze over, a tunnel appeared out of the swirl of colors.
However, the instant you tried to look closer, the image vanished, disappeared to hide in the mirage.
Legolas cocked his head to the side, keen eyes searching the tapestry. Only when he gave up and let his eyes unfocus, did it reappear. The temptation was too much for the prince, and he got up and crossed the room, stopping just short of the tapestry.
Many such hangings were in the palace, near to 30 at least, yet Legolas had never paid attention to them, preferring actual scenes to mad swirls.
He lifted the tapestry, stepping behind it and critically surveying the stone wall, which at first glance, appeared perfectly normal. On closer inspection, running his fingers lightly along the stone, he discovered a small indent about waist high.
Cautiously, he pressed inward. With a slow, deep rumble comparable to a hungry hobbit belly, the wall cracked open, revealing a rough tunnel with others branching off in all directions. Torched burned brightly, yet the musty air suggested that no one had been there for a long time.
Normally, nothing would have stopped him from going in and looking around, but something about this tunnel spooked him. Something about it seemed… wrong. But the prospect of adventure and excitement was too strong. He stepped slowly over the lip of the passage.
When nothing jumped out to behead him, Legolas continued forward, trying to keep a general sense of where he was. It wasn't too difficult, the passages seemed to run in almost the same layout as the palace.
Turning a corner, he nearly knocked himself flat by running into a dead end. He was about to turn, when voices sounded, muffled but discernable. "The orcs are from a land we do not know, but suspect lies somewhere in the north, bearing a mark that we don't recognize.
Legolas froze. That was his Ada's voice! Making a quick calculation, he realized that on the other side of the wall, lay Thranduil's study! There was so much potential there—if he could find out how to open the door. There was no indent on this side.
A chilling thought occurred to him then—if there was no indent, on this or any other 'door', how was he to get out? Instantly the walls seemed to close in around him, the torches to dim. Thoughts of eavesdropping fled from his mind as one priority presented itself: getting out!
Turning, he fled, passageways flashing by, so desperate to get out, that he didn't even notice the tunnel's floor sloping downwards, when it should have been angling up.
The rocky tube narrowed, and stopped altogether. Now in a full panic, he spun about and raced back the opposite direction. By some miracle, he arrived back at his room, where the door was still open. He rushed through the crack, nearly ripping down the tapestry in his haste to get out on the balcony.
Fresh air and open space assailed his senses. The panic faded away as a gentle breeze washed over him. Sunlight had never felt so good. Chest burning from the flat out run, he inhaled, smelling the sweet scent of trees and listened to their far off whispers. Glancing back into the room, bright as it was, gave his the creeps, and it was several hours before he went back in.
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For the next four days, Legolas was confined to his room, leaving only for meals. Back in his real bedroom, instead of those dratted healing quarters, he searched through every book of Mirkwood he could find, with no mention of the passages.
He did not tell anyone of his adventure, not even his father or the twins, whom he saw periodically. But sooner or later he would go back down. It was not his nature to run from something.
Meanwhile, the orc mystery just grew. Several parties were caught trying to sneak into the palace, but with the upped security, none made it far. The identity of the leaders and origin remained hidden. If caught, the orc would either provoke the elf into killing it, or commit suicide, both very un-orc-like things to do.
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Legolas was lying flat on his back with his feet up on the wall drumming out an incessant rhythm when his ada entered.
"Having fun, Thranduilion?"
Legolas jumped and leaped to his feet. "Ada, I've never been so bored in my life! There's only so many times you can read your books before you have them memorized! Did you know that there's 4, 897 threads per square foot on my comforter? I can't even go outside now, all my clothes are wet from being out in the rain for the past three days! I'm going nuts!"
"Ah, no difference then. How would you like a reprieve?" The king smiled as his son's clear blue eyes lit up. "I thought so. Do you know what day it is?"
Legolas thought for a second and counted on his fingers. A joyful smile appeared on his face as he exclaimed, "The Festival!"
The king grinned in spite of himself. All of Mirkwood enjoyed the Festival of Change. It was a celebration of spring and summer beginning, and winter coming to an end. Light and happy at first, as the day grew into night, the elves retreated into the deep forest and told stories and sang songs, of olden times, and even some ghost stories.
"Can I go?"
For a split second Thranduil thought of the honey covered Imladris family, whole scores of wet, ripped clothes, and the still-green Elladan. But then, looking at the big, pleading eyes, how could he say no?
"Of… course."
Legolas leaped straight into the air with a yell and dashed toward his Ada for a great hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Then he was gone, out the door at full speed.
He was halfway down the hall before he realized he had no idea where the twins were staying. The problem was solved minutes later as a yell echoed out from a door on the left. "You did what?"
Cautiously entering the room, the prince smiled as Elrohir leaped at his brother, brandishing a pillow. "You rotten little…"
"Have you forgotten, gwador-nin? I am the eldest, therefore, you have no right to call me little."
"Well," Legolas spoke up quickly, before Elrohir could get even angrier. "Are you ready for the festival?"
"Hey, tithen-las! You're Ada said you can go?"
Legolas paused and glared. "Where. Did . You. Hear. That?"
Elladan shrugged merrily. "I heard the cooks talking about you in the kitchens yesterday. You really used to be quite the troublemaker didn't you?"
"If you ever call me that again, you'll get some nice brown to go with that green. Make you into a real Wood-elf."
Elladan's face darkened slightly, he had no desire to become any more colored than he already was.
"Let's go eat dinner! With other elves! In the Hall!"
Elrohir laughed. "You need to get out more." Nevertheless, he moved out the door. His Ada had told him about the Mirkwood feasts, and he was drooling just thinking about it. Legolas bounced after him, obviously happy to be out of his room, if only for one night.
Elladan followed, more slowly. Although he was also eager to get to the Hall, (for more reasons than one) he got a funny feeling. A tingle along his spine told him that something was going to happen tonight, something exciting.
But until then, he had an appointment to keep. In a very short while, Legolas Greenleaf would be very sorry he ever crossed the twins of Imladris.
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Thanks to:
Haldir's Heart and Soul: Yes! No killing Legolas, that would be too damn evil. I couldn't (wouldn't) do that, not unless there was some way to bring him back to life or I had a very good reason for it.
Deana: Thanx for reviewing!
Sila ninque: Great idea! I know exactly the person who would take her place. she looks at my evil dreamy smile, squeaks in terror and starts brainstorming busily Thanx for the review, glad it made you laugh!
NuEvil: Children (especially mischievous elflings never listen. Thranduil will find that out the hard way. Hee hee hee… Thanx for the review, I like putting little humor things in there…
Soph: Thank you, ya, I know, bad me…. I don't like being OOC, but once in a while I do it… then hate it and usually end up changing it…. Thanx for reviewing!