Summary: Heled stared at him in surprise. "You really are well informed, aren't you? Or Legolas just likes you. That's it. He likes everybody though. He can even like a rock or a door if he wants." (Legolas felt a little offended at that. Did they really see him like that?) or In Which Legolas is a Recruit and A Prince at the Same Time.

Rating: T

Warnings: THIS IS JUST A ONESHOT, beating someone up, deception, abrupt ending, sloppy dialogues, OCs, crappy worldbuilding, rushed transitions.

Characters: Legolas, OCs. Lots of them. (There are a distinct lack of named elves in Mirkwood. Who can blame me?)

-x-

Attestations

by ANarrativeCloud

Legolas had always been independent and loathed being babied especially when he knew that he could help. Being the fifth of six had always been more a blessing than a curse, for instance, whenever the topic of him going out the woods to train and battle had always ended with the argument whether or not he was old enough to go on patrols. The fourth was an elleth, Ciwnith, and she was completely satisfied being kept as a decorative piece in their household. The youngest, Malion, was much too immature in his handling of anything but was enjoying being spoiled. Legolas refused to be anything like them. He was already eight centuries old and he could say with utmost certainty (though not as inwardly certain as he would have liked) that he could outshoot any of his elven kin except maybe Erynion—Greenwood's General and his teacher—and could go toe to toe with his arms instructor in a duel. Erynion called him a natural with a bow and Legolas just couldn't understand why people had a hard time shooting a bow—which was exactly why he was a natural, Erynion had said. Nevermind that the trees in Greenwood (He refused to call it Mirkwood. It was Greenwood and no amount of darkness would be able to convince him otherwise) would help him if he ever got into trouble. He was sure that he could flee back to the safety of the castle walls before any orcs or spiders could even have a shot at him.

Which was why he was currently patrolling the forests of Greenwood—with Erynion's permission of course. There were times when Legolas respected the general more than his father, but that was few and far in between, but in this matter, Legolas almost always put Erynion's judgment over his father's. Thranduil was usually never this unreasonable, but the accident a few centuries back—which Luineth, his naneth, had been gravely injured and had sailed to the Undying Lands for healing since no medicine on this side of the sea would have been able to cure her—Legolas knew that his Ada and gwador had only been worried and concerned for his safety, but being brushed off without a moment's hesitation had lit his frozen rage. Erynion had sometimes sneaked him off to hunts when nobody could see and Legolas could handle himself just fine.

"How can I prove to Ada that I can handle myself?" Legolas ranted in frustration. "He doesn't see reason! If you hadn't come forth and persuaded him to let me train, he wouldn't even let me out of his sight!"

Erynion sighed, having heard this tirade more times than he could count, and believe him, he could count a lot. "Your father is just worried."

"Which is exactly the problem!" Legolas declared exasperatedly. "How can I make him see that I can fight? I can feel the darkness creeping upon our borders and I cannot stand this—this idleness! I have proven myself on hunts before—"

"But His Grace doesn't know that. And if he did he'd have my head." Erynion interrupted. "I was technically going against orders, but he had only told me not to include you in patrols, not hunts. It is very doubtful that it would make a difference to him."

Legolas fell silent, glaring at nothing in particular. "I loathe it when you're right."

"I do too, sometimes. If only you weren't a prince then you would be free to show your worth—" Erynion paused, horror slowly filling his face as he saw an idea form in the prince's head. He recognized that thoughtful smile.

"Oh no. No no no. I will not let you talk me into this."

Legolas looked hurt, then blinked as if holding back tears. "Please..?"

Erynion grimaced. Those eyes would be the death of him someday. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

Then the prince's expression cleared, his hurt expression quickly morphing into a bright smile. Manipulative little elfling. Erynion internally swore.

"Hannon le!"

Erynion sighed bemusedly. "So what do you plan on doing?"

-x-

"A new recruit?" Aensul, the Crown Prince and Captain of an Elven Patrol, queried curiously. "At this time? I was not aware of any elves competent enough to be recommended by Greenwood's esteemed General."

Erynion smiled congenially. "It was quite a surprise to me as well. One of my hunts had yielded surprising results. The orc band I had been hunting had been dispatched swiftly by an elf. A Silvan Elf not of our employ. His name is Faervel, a son of one of our wineries, Thandor."

That had been their cover. Legolas had befriended Faervel during one of his strolls around the kingdom—before this whole charade started. The real Faervel was a shut-in, more involved with mathematics and administration than battle, but he had relented in using Legolas his identity for a while, after making the prince promise that he would reveal everything in time, though he wasn't in a hurry for that. He cared little for the usage of his name, but he had rather not be associated with a strong fighter. Thandor, Faervel's father, had been delighted at the visit of the Prince and had mischievously smiled, quite enthusiastic at the deception. He had been more than a little displeased with Thranduil when he heard of Legolas's situation, and had offered to cover for them if anyone came asking.

"I have not heard of his name before." Aensul frowned minutely. "Will we be able to see how competent he is? I do not presume to be a better judge than you, armsmaster, but I think it would be best if we see how competent he is eith our own eyes."

Erynion's eyes glittered with amusement. "I do not doubt it. When may he be introduced?"

"In a week from now, just after dawn."

"I will inform him." Erynion affirmed.

Aensul nodded. "I'm afraid we need to cut this short. I'm due in the council room for some… trade matters." He said it with much disgust and Erynion was glad he didn't need to sit in the council for those things.

"Don't let me keep you." Erynion bade him farewell and Aensul politely left the room.

The General grinned widely. Legolas was rubbing off on him.

-x-

"So how did it go?" Legolas asked anxiously as he paced on the worn carpet. Erynion could only wonder how long his charge had been at it.

"Perfectly." Erynion raised an eyebrow amusedly, watching the prince deflate in relief. "Did you doubt me?"

"Of course not." Legolas said dismissively, throwing all anxiety out the proverbial window so visibly Erynion almost laughed. "I was just anxious whether or not Aensul would dismiss 'Faervel' as he did me."

"The only reason he dismissed you was because of his concern for your well-being, little prince."

Legolas glanced at him sharply. "I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from calling me such."

Erynion's brow rose in amusement. "You are young and inexperienced compared to many, but your skill in battle is much more than any of the others who had greater experience than you. You should not let it discourage you little prince."

Legolas glowered balefully at him.

Erynion decided the prince had enough teasing for now. "How will you disguise yourself? Your features are decidedly royalty and any forms of deception would be easily seen through."

"Braiding my hair differently would be a start, but my facial features wouldn't be easily changed and no elven warrior covers his face with any forms of clothing except helms and wood-elves aren't known for wearing helms. I could always say that my face is disfigured but Faervel wouldn't like that very much."

"I know of something that could help." Erynion admitted. "It's a magical artifact that can make someone look like another. You've heard of them, I've no doubt?"

"The Pendant of Janos!" Legolas realized.

"The one and only."

Legolas nodded but looked skeptical. "Those are in the castle vaults."

"Not anymore." Erynion smiled mirthfully as he handed an ornate box to him.

Legolas's eyes sparkled.

-x-

"A new face will be joining us today, but we'll need to see if he's up to snuff." Aensul announced cheerfully. "Come up front and introduce yourself."

A flighty looking elf, hair a bright auburn, a common Silvan trait and eyes a silvery green that held some sort of hidden confidence, stepped up front and nervously introduced himself. Aensul felt a bit of pity (but also a little bit of glee, his inner prankster was giddy at the new target) for the elf, since he had been put on the spot like that, even if he was given a week to prepare. Meeting the Crown Prince and his famed troop was overwhelming on its own.

"I am called Faervel, son of Thandor." He said quietly, not timid, but not confident either. It sounded carefully measured. He looked like the humble type of person. Aensul gave him an encouraging glance not quite sure how to think of the surprise he saw on the recruit's face.

"I can use a bow and hunting knives adequately." He said hesitantly. "Although I have little idea of your standards."

Aensul grinned and clapped him on his shoulders then bellowed. "Set up the archery range!"

A multitude of scattered but enthusiastic affirmations echoed throughout the clearing and Aensul chest puffed and felt very proud of his cute little elflings. They were so diligent!

"So, Faervel." Aensul started, slightly making the other elf jump. He truly was jumpy wasn't he? "How do you think you would fare if I pitted you against one of my elves in a sparring match?"

Faervel hesitated. "I do not wish to be presumptuous, sire."

"None of that." Aensul chided. "I am a Captain before I am a prince here. Just call me Aensul."

Faervel looked slightly alarmed but knew that it was a direct order or took it as such but there was a mischievous glint to his eyes. "… Aensul then, my prince."

Aensul mock glared at him before chuckling below his breath. "You win this round, good sir."

It didn't take much time for the range to be set up and Legolas—or Faervel, depending on who you asked at the moment— was sure they had set up this range more than enough times to consider it just a chore.

"So we'll start with stationary targets, just for warm-up." Aensul smirked. "The distance would be as far as elven eyes can reach. Would that be sufficient?"

Legolas hid his own smirk. They were already bullying him on the first day? That had to be some sort of record. Outwardly, he looked uneasy at the declaration but Aensul smiled at him patiently and explained that they would just see how much he could shoot. Legolas thanked decades of experience in diplomacy for his acting skills. (Aensul despised meetings with a passion.)

"So we'll start. Do you have your own bow and arrows?" The Crown Prince asked offhandedly.

"Yes." Legolas stated and brought out a bag, roughly made, since that would have been to be expected of a commoner and emptied it, showing slightly above average weaponry. They weren't his own bow and arrows, but using those would have given away his identity much faster than he could swear. So he and Erynion had made new ones from a tree in the forest that had cheerfully and helpfully gave them what they needed. He already missed his own bow, having been one of the better ones in the realm but he could live the discomfort, having had enough practice with this bow.

Aensul looked the weapons with an appraising eye. "It could be better, but it's acceptable for practice."

Legolas nodded. He knew that much.

Aensul wasn't as good with a bow as he could have been, having at least eight millennia on him, as he preferred to use swords, the fast and light ones, rather than arrows or long knives.

The archery range wasn't in the Halls of the Citadel, rather in the wood, where a large clearing was located, right beside a large Oak tree that was probably one of the most impressive trees in the wood. Wood-elves were known for their maneuverability in the foliage of trees, after all. Aensul had instructed him to prepare his weapons then stand at the edge of the clearing and he followed the orders without much fuss. He barely remembered to hunch his shoulders slightly, and lessening the surety of his gait so as to look the part he was playing.

"There's a bright red target, there, see?" Aensul gestured to the trees and Legolas had to squint slightly to see the target itself—which meant the distance of the target was decidedly impressive. Elven eyes were as sharp as they came, after all. They truly were bullying the new recruit then.

Legolas nodded quietly, making sure to fidget slightly. They would be surprised.

The disguised prince readied his bow, but had not drawn an arrow, that would lessen the impact of what he was going to do. Of course, if he missed—which he still sometimes did—he hoped it would not be as embarrassing as he feared. Aensul had asked one of the elves to stay near the target to see how well he had aimed and Legolas was ready to impress.

"Whenever, you're ready." Aensul stated calmly.

Legolas exhaled, trained his gaze on the target and in naught but a moment, had notched his arrow and released it. The arrow made no sound.

He heard several low whistles of appreciation and he couldn't help but feel relieved. The moment his bow left his arrow, he knew that the arrow would hit the target. It was a feeling that he had learned to trust over the years. You just knew that you had missed if you did.

Legolas heard a voice from near the target to announce. "Hit! Center!"

The spectating elves applauded him, but they had grins on their faces that he doubted would be good for his health.

"Stationary target's over." Aensul grinned. "Let's see how you deal with moving targets."

-x-

"Where did he come from?" Heled blinked in surprise, seeing the elf recruit slice through targets launched at him from all sides, sometimes spinning fast to slice three different projectiles at the same time, sometimes using his feet to deflect the ones that weren't sharp—wait what was he doing—no scratch that, even the sharp ones when his hands were occupied.

He'd been at it for half an hour now.

"Halt!" Aensul ordered and the projectiles stopped.

Faervel was breathing heavily and his face was sheened with sweat. No wonder. He was being tested rigorously and Heled doubted he could have done the same when he was the recruit.

"So, are you still good to go?" Aensul asked amusedly.

Faervel nodded, after calming his breathing.

"Heled!" Aensul barked the command and Heled dropped down to the clearing.

"Yes, sire?" Heled grinned cheekily.

Aensul gave him a reproving stare. Heled's grin didn't falter.

Aensul sighed in defeat. Heled was still older than him after all—even if it was just a handful of decades.

"Spar with him."

Heled grinned even wider.

Faervel paled and then echoed. "…spar?"

"Fret not, rookie." Heled reassured. "I'll ascertain there won't be any injuries our healers wouldn't be able to heal."

"That does not sound very reassuring." Faervel said warily.

"Wasn't meant to be, rookie. You look competent enough. I'll be using a sword, will that be alright?" Heled asked, a little worried. The elf looked tired enough.

Faervel's expression flattened, all signs of tiredness vanishing from his posture, faster than Heled had ever seen, even including Aensul.

Curious.

The recruit nodded.

"Heled versus Recruit Faervel! First Blood wins!" Aensul bellowed.

Heled didn't wait for him to finish as he launched an overhead kick with the rookie ducking fast enough and swiping at his feet which he jumped over. Faervel brandished his knives with a flourish and gracefully took on a winding run, zigging and zagging as Heled moved to intercept. Heled's sword met a knife, sparks initiating at the contact of steel. Faervel spun, the hilt of his word aimed at Heled's temple, only to be stopped by a free hand. Faervel jumped away, as if to remove distance, then engaged once more in a flurry of knives. Heled blocked them and returned a few blows of his own.

It was obvious even to an amateur that Heled was winning. Faervel looked a bit too tired.

Then Faervel threw one of his knives, with Heled easily dodging them, only to feel a stinging pain on his upper arm.

Faervel had drawn blood.

He had thrown three daggers—where did the other two even come from—simultaneously at breakneck speed.

Aensul grinned. "Winner! Faervel!"

Cheers erupted.

Faervel looked stunned. (Legolas's eyes widened in delight.)

-x-

"Did he meet your standards?" Erynion asked amusedly.

Aensul deflated on his chair, all princely etiquette fleeing his every bone. "You could have warned us he was that good."

Erynion smiled. "What would the fun in that be?"

"Careful, armsmaster." Aensul cautioned. "You are starting to sound like a Man."

Erynion laughed throatily. "Is that so bad, ernîl-nîn?"

"How many times—You know what, suit yourself. Legolas could not make you address him by his name even with those eyes, I doubt what I will be able to do anything better." Aensul mock glared at him. Erynion chuckled.

He would never tell him that he could only resist on odd days.

"By the way, where is Legolas? I have not seen him for a while, even during our morning meal. You are his trainer are you not? Have you an inkling as to where he might be?"

Erynion hummed. "I doubt I would be able to tell you. The lad can be as fickle as the wind."

Aensul sighed and pursed his lips. "It's been quite a while since I've last seen him."

Erynion raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden concern?"

"The new recruit reminded me of him." Aensul said musingly. "Much quieter though, and less—"

"Legolas." Erynion finished with a smile.

"Exactly." Aensul grinned.

-x-

The barracks were an odd place to be when you were used to wide spaces. It was hardly a tight fit, but Legolas already missed his own bed. He wouldn't complain though. He'd slept in worse, but then, there were trees he could persuade to lend their canopies to him.

His mind made up, he soundlessly left the barracks (There were two bunk beds on either sides of the room), cautiously making no noise as he tread. Elven ears were very had to pass through, after all.

Legolas ducked into an alcove and removed the pendant from his neck and pocketed it, making sure it was thoroughly secured before scouting out the hallway to make sure there was no one to see him 'transform'.

He perched himself on one of the trees within the Halls of the Citadel, though they were few and far in between.

"Legolas?"

"Mae govannen, gwador-nîn." Legolas greeted.

Aensul grinned. "I've been looking for you!"

"Pray tell why, gwador-nîn?" Legolas asked exasperatedly. "This is not one of your silly pranks is it?"

Aensul squawked. "I do not do pranks, tithen-pen."

Legolas raised an amused eyebrow.

Aensul sighed dramatically. "Ah. Yes, of course. You got me, but no. Not a prank. I have someone I want you to meet. He's the new recruit!"

Legolas's eyes glittered with amusement. "Faervel?"

"You know each other?" Aensul asked, surprised.

"In a matter of speaking." Legolad intoned cryptically, smiling with a glitter to his eyes.

"You sound like a Noldo!" Aensul mock gasped. "Cryptic like the Valar only know." Then he turned the slightest bit more serious. "How do you know him?"

"How do you think armsmaster knew about him in the first place?" Legolas countered lightly.

"I was thinking of introducing him to royalty, though." Aensul pouted slightly. Legolas kept a smile.

"Why not Malion?"

"I want to intimidate him, tithen-pen. Not make him lose respect to royalty. Malion's much too young to be intimidating."

Legolas raised a brow. "Then why not Adar?"

Aensul lit up like those pesky firecrackers Legolas only saw once when he snuck out to Esgaroth. Legolas didn't like how this looked. Why, pray tell, did he suggest such a thing!? Ada would skin him alive if he ever found he was disguising himself and with a stolen artifact!

"Very clever!" Aensul cheered, completely oblivious to Legolas's internal turmoil. "Maybe I should! He will be a member of our patrol, after all. He should know who the Elven King is!"

Legolas scrambled for a reason for it to be a bad idea then found that there were actually several. "Don't torment, the poor recruit, Aensul." Legolas said chidingly, hoping his voice came out steady, which it did if only because of his harrying experiences as a diplomat. "Ada has much more important things to do with his time. He isn't the king for nothing you know."

"Ada can make time." Aensul dismissed.

Legolas sighed. "You make it hard, sometimes, to reassure me you're truly older than me."

"I take offense to that!" Aensul squawked.

Legolas smiled at him. "Will that be all, hîr-nîn?"

Aensul pouted and threw his hands up in defeat. "The whole Citadel is against me."

Legolas laughed.

-x-

"A patrol?" Faervel blinked in surprise. "I thought recruits undergo some sort of training course before being able to be a part of patrols?"

Heled smiled. "You're nicely informed! Very few people know about that. Who told you?"

Faervel's ducked shyly and mumbled, "Prince Legolas."

Heled laughed. "Legolas? The elfling has fingers in pies everywhere, hasn't he? They even say he's befriended some Noldorin elves."

Faervel blinked, losing character for a second, his voice coming out steadier than he intended. "The twins from Imladris?"

Heled stared at him in surprise. "You really are well informed, aren't you? Or Legolas just likes you. That's it. He likes everybody though. He can even like a rock or a door if he wants. Don't think too much of it."

(Legolas felt a little offended at that. Did they really see him like that?)

Faervel hummed noncommittally.

"So, you in?"

"Yes. Hannon le."

Heled grinned.

-x-

The patrol was routine, and Heled had given him low explanations about things he already knew, but needed the refresher anyway. He nodded at all the right moments and asked questions when it seemed prudent, all the while keeping an eye on their surroundings for possible hostiles.

They'd dispatched two small nests of Spiders and a camp of orcs further south.

Heled as more than just a little impressed in the 'recruit's' retention of his composure. Even he had vomited after slaying his first orc. Although, Heled thought morbidly, it's quite possible that this isn't his first kill.

And other than those encounters, the patrol was uneventful enough to warrant suspicion.

-x-

"May we have a word, Faervel?" An elf smiled at him, with two others flanking him. Guilin, Estiel and Beryn if he remembered correctly. They were recruits too, but they haven't been out to patrol yet.

Unlike Faervel.

Faervel nodded in slight surprise. (Legolas raised a brow.) It was oddly refreshing to be treated not as a prince, but someone as normal as 'Faervel'.

"Outside?" Guilin prompted.

"Why?" Legolas thought Faervel's shy attitude would get him nowhere. So he didn't put on that mask. "Inside is a perfectly good place to talk."

Guilin's smile became forced. Legolas suddenly knew what this was about.

They're jealous. Legolas realized. That… was unprecedented. Although he could understand their sentiment, he just didn't really think that what they were doing was logical. It was definitely odd, an elf with no apparent formal training in a military suddenly leaping bounds above his 'peers'. This situation would require a sudden coldness 'Faervel' wouldn't be able to pull off, so instead he blended them. He was half Legolas and half 'Faervel' for now, at least until the situation blew over.

It had been at least a month now that he was being eased into a position in the patrols, probably so he wouldn't be overwhelmed (like he had been when Ada had vindictively thrown him to the council wolves for 'negotiatory talks' with only Lorthor—the head diplomat and Second Prince—as an anchor). Legolas learned better with risks, although he could live just as fine without them. Thank you very much, Adar.

"Just trust us." Guilin prodded.

"Why should I? You've never given me cause to trust you. Had we met in battle, I might have had a different opinion." Legolas flatly stated and heard several shuffles—most probably due to indignation—from outside but gave no indication that he had noticed. That would only give them the upper hand. Legolas had wanted to get along with them, but it seemed they had already categorized him as a 'suck-up' to authorities. What a shame.

He'd give them a second chance later, when their heads had cooled, but for now…

"Will it hurt you to step out of your room, Faervel?"

Legolas shut them up with a cold, flat stare, his eyes as cold as the arctic. "It seems as if you harbor some hostilities against me. May I inquire as to why that is?"

"You said he was shy!" Guilin whispered harshly to Beryn.

"He was! I'm not sure—"

"I can hear you quite clearly." Legolas interrupted dryly.

"Well, we all know that you're only becoming a member of the patrol because of Prince Legolas, so why don't you stop showing off and actually let the others have a chance?" Estiel growled.

Legolas's shoulders shook.

Guilin suddenly felt guilty. He didn't want to be the reason for somebody to cry, even if that somebody was much too insensitive.

Legolas snickered. Oh dear. This was just much too hilarious!

Guilin suddenly felt all his anger rush back and charged at him and the other two followed.

Legolas easily avoided them, but then there were suddenly more than three. At least nine if his count was right. There were some sloppy movements, but there were also some good hits and he definitely knew that those were going to bruise later. He hadn't wanted to retaliate since a brawl was much easier to forgive than ganging up on someone.

And he didn't want anybody forgiving them any time soon. (Ada was probably rubbing off on him too much.)

He tried to avoid them or even flee, but he was outnumbered terribly. Stars filled his vision and he felt something be dislocated. That would be bad. Really bad. That would take at least a week to heal. No matter. A week was nothing in the course of everything. At least he could tell his Ada that he'd actually already gone on patrols and Ada wouldn't be able to tell him no anymore.

This is enough! He thought fiercely. Legolas had wanted them to stop on their own but any further injury would end up crippling him and he could already feel a concussion settle in. He had better call for help.

He broke free of the onslaught and whistled purposefully.

His panic whistle.

How to best explain it? Each royalty had a special whistle pitch and pause that each meant something and this one meant that he was injured and would sustain further injury unless aid came.

Considering they were in a place where sounds bounced everywhere… The whistle would have probably been heard by more than enough people for this event to come to an abrupt halt.

"Legolas!?" Aensul barged in the room worriedly, angrily and a little winded at the same time. He'd probably rushed fast. When he finally saw what was happening, his eyes flared in rage. "What is going on here!?"

The recruits cowered under the Crown Prince's glare and gave mumbled excuses.

"You are all suspended until further notice you hear me!?" Aensul shouted harshly then barked, "Heled! Escort them to Adar's Hall. Brief him about tonight's events. He'll know what to do with them. Call the healers. Faervel's injured." His eyes roved the room critically. "Extensively injured."

They all visibly paled. Everybody knew about Thranduil's displeasure towards anything that goes against his word.

And then, faster than Aensul could have hoped for, the area was cleared with only him and Faervel lying on one of the beds.

Aensul had looked him over and found no evidences that he was internally bleeding, just some nasty bruises and cuts, although he could hazard a guess that Faervel was concussed. He had a pretty large welt by the side of his head.

"Faervel. I know it was you who sent that distress call. How did you know Legolas's whistle?" Aensul asked him concernedly.

"Gwador-nîn!" Legolas laughed lightly, his head hazed and blurry, the Pendant still resting above his collar bone.

"Faervel?" Aensul asked tentatively.

Gwador-nîn? And Legolas' whistle? Don't tell me…

"That's not my name, Aensul! Tsk, tsk. You're the one who always insist in using your name, but now you keep calling me—Ai! Yes, I am Faervel, your highness!"

Aensul pinched the bridge of his nose then called. "Legolas."

"…yes?"

Aensul sighed and reached to 'Faervel's' neck and found what he suspected he would.

Janos's Pendant.

"What a wonder." Aensul breathed out. "You'd actually go this far…" Then he realized something. "Ai Valar! Legolas! Adar does not know that it was you that they assaulted!"

"Erynion knows, well I think he does. No! I'm Faervel, your highness! Not Legolas, no, no."

Aensul pulled off the pendant and showed it to the concussed Legolas.

"That… is not my fault." Legolas said petulantly. "Erynion stole it! Not me!"

Aensul sighed.

-x-

Legolas shut his eyes tightly after he tried to open them only to be blinded by bright light.

"Mae govannen, ernîl-nîn." Erynion greeted him.

"Wha—"

"Your Adar would like to talk to you."

-fin-

A/N: END! Yes. Really. :) I have this bad habit of ending stuff immediately, haha. That's cause I'm ningas cugon. (If I had wanted this to lengthen, this probably would have never gone up. XD) So so sad, really. If I get inspired, there'd probably be a short sequel. J

Notes:

Royal Siblings (according to me):

1- Aensul 2- Beriel (not mentioned) 3- Lothor 4- Ciwnith 5- Legolas 6- Malion

Dictionary:

-elleth: female elf

-gwador: brother

-ada/adar: dad/father

-nana/naneth: mom/mother

-ernîl-nîn: my Prince

-hîr-nîn: my Lord

-Mae govannen: a greeting or something. It just sounded nice. Did I use it correctly?

-Hannon le: Thank you.

**The meaning of their names? Uh, dunno. They sounded nice. So I thought, why the heck not? If I'm lucky they probably got the meaning and the personalities up right. XD

(If you find something wrong, tell me. JI'm open to criticisms!)

Didja like it? Review and send me your love! XD I'll be giving away virtual cookies! J