Disclaimer: I own no Tolkien characters. Yes, I completely stole the idea for this story from Captain America, both "The First Avenger" and "Winter Soldier". For clarity's sake, Elladan is my Cap equivalent, Elrohir is Bucky, Lindir is Dr. Zol, & Estel is kind of Peggy (but please do not think this is slash, because it isn't!). As for Elrond, I believe his role is rather self-explanatory. Enjoy, and as always I truly appreciate comments and constructive criticism!
A/N: There are some movie/commercial references hidden in here! See if you can find them!
3. More Twin Mischief
Meanwhile, Elladan and Elrohir called everyone together in the royal council room. The elder twin took the lead. "My friends, I first feel an apology is in order. Please excuse Ada; the 600's were not good to him. While I cannot explain his behaviour, I can tell you how sorry I am that you had to witness that. I hope it will not happen again. As for his outrageous claims, I assure that Elrohir and I have been eating meat for several years now and we neither look nor feel any different than we did a hundred years ago. Humans, dwarves, hobbits and the like die because they are mortal. Meat has nothing to do with it. However, I do suggest we refrain from eating meat in Ada's presence, for his sake and yours."
The elves calmed and murmured in agreement, while Elrohir fondly slugged his shoulder. He then stepped up. "Does anyone have questions or concerns?"
There was a collective round of "No's" as they were dismissed and continued about their daily business.
The twins once again walked side by side on their next mission: the kitchen. Once inside, they chuckled as they consulted with Cucua. "Maybe you could make a fried chicken casserole, filled with all manner of vegetables and a heavy sauce to hide the taste of it at first?" Elladan suggested.
"Sure! But why do you want your father to eat this so much? He is entitled to his own taste in food."
"Yes, but we like it so much that we want him to share in our enjoyment! I don't understand what his problem is."
Elrohir butted in, slapping his brother on the back. "He probably choked on some as a child and almost died, and since then he has been paranoid! And all these elves who keep leaving him for the Undying Lands adds to his need to stay here with those he loves so he can protect them."
"Your mind is too wild! Stay out of the wine!" He punched his twin's arm, chuckling.
Cucua laughed at their bantering. "I'm sure it is nothing so drastic as that. Let's try this method," she pointed to the recipe she had quickly located while the twins poked fun at each other, "then I refuse to have any more deception come out of my kitchens. I like my job here too much to have to leave it!" She shooed the boys out of the room and they ran into Estel on their way back to their room to plan more terroristic actions against their invalid father. After being told of their plan, he agreed to ensure the chef would indeed make more chicken, although he doubted he could get her to do anymore that what the twins had already delved out of her.
The young man poked his head into the kitchen, and the kindly cook beckoned him in. He had become a favourite of hers, such a quiet, thoughtful boy. They became close and she was like a second mother, especially when his own mother, Gilraen, moved away to Eriador a couple of years prior, still grieving the death of his father when he was two. "Naneth Cucua, may I speak with you a moment?" he politely asked.
"You know you can talk to me any time, glî.*"
"Are you planning to prepare more fried chicken tomorrow?"
"Yes. The twins were just in here begging me for it," she smiled. "They want Lord Elrond to eat it. I can't figure out why they're so persistent about it! They sent you, didn't they?"
"Yes. But don't tell them you know!"
She winked. "I won't. It will be our secret. How would you like to come help me tomorrow?"
"Thank you! All your cooking lessons have paid off when the twins and I go out for a few days."
"They say you are quite the cook, and you are!"
The friendly conversation continued until the kitchen was spotless once more. Then the two made their way to their separate chambers.
Soon the twins also slept and woke up the next morning refreshed and ready to make more mischief on their incapacitated father. Technically they were supposed to be in charge of Rivendell whenever Elrond could not be, but they figured he was grouchy and stubborn enough to continue issuing his selfish demands from the healing chamber.
As noon closed in, they went to visit him, finding Lindir there. "Did you sleep well, Ada?" they asked.
"No!" He glared at them. "I can't get comfortable with my arm and leg both wrapped up like this. Go away before you cause me even more pain!"
"Alright, Ada. Lindir, why don't you come with us so you can personally get his food?" Elladan inquired, slyly winking at his twin, unbeknownst to the other two elves. "You know how grouchy he is when he doesn't eat. He just isn't himself."
Sighing, the Ruler of Rivendell waved his hand in dismissal and the three elves walked out towards the kitchens. There Cucua loaded a tray with the casserole, some of Elrond's favourite fruits, and a small pitcher of creamy milk, enough for Lindir to share with him. The elf assistant had no idea that he carried the dread food back to his elven lord.
Lindir entered the infirmary and set the tray on a nearby table before assisting the Lord Elrond into a sitting position, propped up with five fluffy down pillows. Then he carefully put the tray on his lap. "I am told Cucua fixed this especially for you. She says you'll feel better in no time."
Brow furrowed into a deep, dark frown, Elrond glared at the impudent elf. "I happen to know it takes a bone six weeks to heal. While that is a short time in the life of a regular elf, a Ruler must constantly be on his toes for his kingdom, and when he falls into disrepair, so do his people."
Wise answer, for once, Schmidt told him.
Eyes wide, Lindir could only stare as Elrond uttered that depressing statement, then nonchalantly sampled the food, pushing an apple slice at Lindir. They ate in silence for a minute, until, after a rather large bite of casserole, the elven ruler quit chewing and gulped. "Does this taste strange to you, Lindir?"
The elf sampled another bite, then shook his head. "No. I think it is rather delicious, probably the best I have ever had! However, there is something in it I can't quite identify."
After digging through the contents with his fork, Elrond lifted out a large chunk of white meat. "Fried chicken!" he screeched. Then he threw the tray off the bed, a mess of food scattering the covers and floor. "Get it away! Quick!" Pulling the blankets over his head, he shivered and shook.
Lindir should have been laughing, but like a good little elf he cleaned up the mess in no time and fixed his master some calming chamomile tea.
"My face! Is my mask still on?"
Looking along his hairline, Lindir probed around. "You need more glue. This bottle is good for about three more times, then you will have to get some more."
"What? Hurry, fix me! Then send for more glue!"
Lindir obliged in record time, a bit tired of having to keep this dreadful secret from everyone.
* glî: elvish term of endearment meaning "honey"