Chapter II
In the morning, when Elrond awoke, he felt that something in the cave was different. Something had changed since he had crawled in last night. He just could not place his finger on it.
He decided to explore. With the new light, he could see very far back into the cave. As he walked farther and farther away, the colder and colder the cave got. Elrond passed an exceptionally large stalagmite, and saw a small box. The box puzzled Elrond, and he decided to open it. Big mistake. A swarm of bats flew out, filling the cave with their raucous screeching and horrid, scratchy wing-flapping. Elrond jumped back, startled, flinging the box (which didn't at first glance appear to have the capacity to accommodate as many bats as were now swarming so thickly that they blocked the light) into a wall. Fending the little brutes off with his fists, the elf lord hurried to the entrance of the cave, rummaged in his pack, grabbed out a hand grenade, pulled the pin, and lobbed it back into the recesses of the cave. There was an immediate, very gratifying, earth-rocking explosion. The annoying screeching ceased and a dead quiet fell. Grimacing as he brushed the bat droppings from his rich garments, Elrond made his way back into the now silent darkness of the cave. He took a closer look at the box, which, due to the elf-lord's startle reflexes, was now broken in half, having been hurled against a wall. Elrond saw immediately on the back the word "Pandora."
"Well, that explains it," said Elrond. "But what a distasteful prank." He continued on, deeper into the recesses of the cave. Suddenly, to his utter shock, he saw a steady light coming from around a perceived corner. Cautiously striding around the corner, he saw he was face to face with… a bookshelf. Elrond, before realizing it was a bookshelf, nearly jumped out of his skin. Yes, it was only a bookshelf. However, it was no ordinary bookshelf. It was filled with many, many old and bizarre looking books. Some of the books had jeweled covers. Some had stains on them. One appeared to be glowing. This book caught his attention. Blowing off dust, he lifted the book off the bookshelf. He opened it, and the light grew stronger. Then, there was a dreadful explosion, which blew jewels, books, and papers everywhere. It rocked the cave and threw Elrond to the ground. When the dust began to settle, the elf lord picked himself up, somewhat shaken, and looked around. He muttered about there being too many explosives in this story, then pulled out his handy beret from his bag and began using it to clear the thick cloud of dust choking the air.
Now, you must know something about Elrond's special beret. It was no ordinary beret. It had some pretty special magical powers to it. Even Elrond himself did not know the full extent of the powers in his beret. But right now, the Beret served its purpose as a thinking cap. Elrond was determined to figure out who stole the pottery. He placed it on his head, and the cap told him at once to walk around. He got up, and began to examine the room. The beret also provided light. It was quite a useful possession. As he searched the room, Elrond came to a small box. He lifted up the lid of the box, and when he looked at what was inside, he couldn't believe his eyes. There, sitting in the box, was the stolen pottery. All 547 complete pieces – the entire collection. How they all fit into this miniscule box, Elrond did not know, but he guessed that they must have been miniaturized by some kind of foul sorcery. This angered him for, though he was again in possession of his previously mislaid relics, they were all 1/64 their normal size. Oh well. At least he had recovered them. He had to be grateful.
Elrond had a quick lunch-break of a delicious roasted herb, garlic, tomato, onion sandwich and then headed out again, shoving the little box into his haversack. He decided to continue on toward Mirkwood to inform the pottery's trusty guardian of their miniaturization and reclamation. And since his pet manatee was still unaccounted for and the pottery crooks might possibly have had some connection to its escape, Elrond knew he had to gather all the clues he could find.
At one point when he was striding purposefully along, he thought he heard something strange, like a muted bellowing. He quickened his pace, somewhat disconcerted. He was traveling at such a quick speed, in fact, that he didn't see a large protruding tree-root directly under his feet, and snagging one of his strong and yet dainty toes on it, catapulted headlong through the air in a downward parabola, ending in an ignominious face-plant in the only mud puddle in the entire forest. Elrond again clambered to his feet, glad no one had witnessed the embarrassing incident, and began swiping at his muddy face with his ornate sleeves. As he was doing so, he thought he caught a glimpse of something odd reflecting in the puddle. He whirled around to see that he was face to face with…
Legolas! The Prince of Mirkwood was standing there, in a radiant light, and he seemed to be glowing. Elrond felt very self-conscience about all the mud on his face. Of all the times he could have found me, why now? Why can't I be all radiant and glowing like him?
Elrond had never liked Legolas. He had been the victim of numerous childhood pranks from his sons and Legolas, who were good friends. Elrond still remembered the time when Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas had spilled coffee all over his beautiful white carpet. It took months to remove the stain. A small portion of it still remained.
"We meet again, Elrond. It is my honor to be meeting you along this little road."
Elrond thought that Legolas should be honored to be meeting him along a road. And it wasn't much of a road. More of a trail, really.
"Shall I take you back to my father's palace?"
Elrond couldn't refuse. Not he. Especially since he very much wanted to bathe, as being dirty made him out of sorts. Legolas cheerfully started prancing down an overgrown path, looking back occasionally to see if Elrond was following. Elrond felt undignified, and felt an implacable urge to turn and run. Or pull out a weapon. After about an hour, during which time Elrond said nothing whilst Legolas happily chattered on and on about hairbrushes, squirrels, feathers, and kumquats, they finally saw through the trees the parapets of the outer stone walls. As they approached, Legolas turned and whispered furtively, "My father has been a little bit cranky these last few days. Maybe your visit will cheer him up."
Elrond thought that with someone with Legolas' annoying personality around, it would be impossible for anyone not be cranky. He said nothing of this aloud, however. All he wanted was a bath and a change of clothes, and then he might feel more benevolent towards the irksome elf-prince. Legolas spoke some strange password that Elrond didn't comprehend. Something like "Mi pelo es más bonito que el pelo de Glorfindel!" At once, the immense cast iron gate began to creak open. It was a glossy black and had an ornate, gothic feel to it, and ivy vines trailed down and wove their way through its bars. Legolas and Elrond stepped inside and the heavy gate closed quickly behind them.
Elrond had never been in such a beautiful place. He fell in love with this house. He promised himself that when he returned to Rivendell, he would make his own house more beautiful. Of course, here they didn't have Elladan and Elrohir running around destroying everything. Elrond sighed.
Legolas must have sensed that all Elrond wanted was a bath and a change of clothing, so he led him along a long corridor and into a room with a massive bath in it. He pressed some buttons, and the tub filled with warm water and lots of bubbles.
Elrond felt like he was in heaven. After his bath, he had been given a pair of white pants and a white shirt made out of an extremely soft fabric.
"Elrond, we need to talk," said a voice.
Elrond whirled around, startled, to see King Thranduil himself. He resembled Legolas a good deal, but looked older somehow and more regal. He was dressed in a long, green, silken robe, embroidered with a curling, tendril-like design, and bound about the middle by a golden belt.
"Ah, Thranduil, my old friend," Elrond said, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible. He was in a better mood than earlier, so he found this rather easy. "What is the matter?"
Thranduil absently twisted at a shiny emerald ring on his right forefinger, markedly searching for words. "Well…" he started, looking from the ring, to Legolas, back to the ring, and finally to Elrond. "Son—" he addressed Legolas, finally "—would you please run and fetch me some… um… er… biscuits?"
Elrond looked at him strangely, wondering what the elvenking could possibly want with biscuits. It had to be a ploy to get rid of Legolas.
"From the kitchen," Thranduil added as an afterthought, in case Legolas couldn't figure out the most likely place to find biscuits.
Legolas cheerfully pranced out the door, humming as he went.
"Now that he's gone," Thranduil began, looking relieved, "I have to say that I'm immensely glad you came here, even if that was not your original intent. You see, there is a matter of the utmost urgency about which I must speak to you at once, if you'll please accompany me to a more private room… Word has traveled across this land we inhabit….and, well… you aren't the only one missing belongings." The regal king sighed. "My prize collection of armor has gone missing. One day it was here, the next it wasn't."
"And you are sure that Legolas hasn't taken anything?" Elrond asked, wondering if the elf aspired to be like his father.
"Legolas would never do such a thing! How dare you accuse my son, my perfect son, of such blasphemy?" Thranduil screeched.
Elrond stared, slack-jawed. "Pardon my error, but Legolas is not the most innocent kid around," Elrond muttered. He wondered if he was going to accomplish anything with Thranduil. Thranduil seemed very keen on denying any wrongdoing by his son.
Elrond found that his mind had wandered a bit. He was trying to figure out WHO in Middle Earth would steal such random items. Then an idea struck him.
"Have you considered, perhaps, the fearsome Apes of Harad?" he asked abruptly, completely straight-faced.
Thranduil paused a moment, then burst into laughter. "The what? Surely you jest."
"And why not them?" Elrond queried, refusing to take offense at Thranduil's mocking incredulity. "You know they are the most likely culprits when it comes to random acts of mischief. They don't mean to be, but their trainer—a crazed Haradrim named Ûzrigsben—sends them from time to time to cause mischief or pilfer valuable items. You remember?"
Thranduil looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Monkeys? You think monkeys did this? How would they have gotten in here unnoticed, through my many defenses and under the noses of my sentries? It's impossible. This took someone with skill, not a pack of brutish apes."
"You asked for my counsel," said Elrond, a little irritated. "They were the only culprits that readily came to mind. Believe me; I've been troubling my head over it for days."
Thranduil sighed, twisting his ring thoughtfully. "Can you think of anyone else who might have—?"
Suddenly, Legolas pranced in, balancing a tray on his palm and grinning from ear to ear. "Here's your rolls, ada!"
Thranduil hesitated a moment, then stammered: "Rolls? No, no, dear son. I—I asked for, uh, biscuits! They must be biscuits, because, uh, er, Elrond here is on a special diet, and he can't have anything but biscuits. Rolls would be… uh… disastrous to his, uh, health."
Legolas blinked a couple times, then comprehending, grinned and pranced back out the door.
Thranduil breathed a sigh of relief. "That should keep him busy for another few minutes."
Elrond was puzzled. "And why can't Legolas listen in on this conversation?"
It was Thranduil's turn to look puzzled. "I don't want him to... get any ideas by himself. He's an adventurous young chap... and he might go off to collect these, what were they, 'hazardous apes'?"
"Apes of Harad?" Elrond offered.
"Yes, those!" Thranduil looked like he was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.
"Why don't we set out to find them?" Elrond asked. "They are our only logical suspect." Other than Legolas, Elrond thought. He still believed that annoying young elf had something to do with this entire problem.
"Legolas, we're going on an adventure!" Thranduil yelled.
"Why is he coming?" Elrond protested. "You're the one who didn't want him hearing what we were talking about."
"He can be useful," Thranduil insisted.
"Not likely," Elrond mumbled, trying to conceal his expression of displeasure. This just kept getting worse and worse…
-To Be Continued-