Elladan slowly awoke to a none too pleasant sight.
Legolas' toad was seated on the pillow right next to him, mouth agape, displaying
all its warty protuberances in vivid emerald Technicolor. It warbled to him
in a friendly manner, strummed a leg over its back in a rampant display of
affection and then shot out its overly long tongue to slime Elladan's nose.
The stench was unbelievable, worse than accidentally squashing a fly of Mordor
and believe me, Dear Reader, no-one deliberately squashes one of *those* things
unless they have inadvertently encountered their worst enemy. Or wish
to leave a boring/mind-numbing/futile function early.
Anyway, the smell was morbidly putrid, made Elladan's eyes water and reminded
him of mucking out the bathroom back at Imladris in the middle of a heat wave
*and* he was still too comatose to do anything about it. Plus Legolas
was lying on his arm which had lost all feeling in it and was stuck to his
shoulder like a cardboard appendage. He tried not to breathe too deeply.
He wondered how his Ada was getting on without him. It was a hard
job keeping everybody in line and goodness knows, he'd spent his entire life
keeping his Ada in good working order. Every little joke played on him
kept him going and exercised his heart a bit more as he flew into one of
his famous rages. `Aggravating Elrond', he'd called it. He thought of
it as a necessary function of a concerned son and he was *sure* Elrond appreciated
it. Elrohir did nothing on that front, Elbereth, he was
a boring sod. However, he'd trained Arwen up now, so she'd have to
do.
The toad slimed Elladan's nose *again*. Ye Gods! It was working
itself up into a damn good croak now. Its throat puffed out into two
horrendously pinkish shaded balloons and then..CR OOO AK! Valar,
what a heavenly choir, what a sweet sound of delightful, dulcet harmony.
And the stench - tears ran down his face. No wonder he wasn't waking
up, the blasted creature was sedating him with its noxious fumes.
Back to the flies of Mordor. Now when had he last used one of those?
At a boring/mind-numbing/futile function. Ah, yes. At a meeting
of Elrond's Council. There they all were, gamely discussing trading between
the Grey Havens and Imladris. Master Erestor had launched into the most
incredibly wearisome speech of epic proportions about the advantages of transporting
supplies on ponies as opposed to mules. Everyone was either falling
asleep, actually asleep or fiddling with their parchments in an heroic effort
to stay awake. It looked like it was going to continue for eternity
or at least until dinner and something had to be done. So - he had ground
a fly of Mordor into the tablecloth, carefully, with the base of his glass,
placed so conveniently on the table in case he got thirsty. Or needed
reviving after one of Glorfindel's reports.
Oh yes! This indeed had the desired effect. Master Erestor stopped
in mid-flow, oh thank the Good Elbereth - the *relief*. Glorfindel looked
in Elrond's direction which was most unfair as he blamed the innocent Lord
for everything, and Elrond stared back as the opposite applied. With
that little macho display out the way, Elrond then looked in Elladan's direction,
thinking how very foolish it had been of him to invite his son to such an
august occasion. He had had the `flies of Mordor manoeuvre' pulled on
him a number of times before and it always involved Elladan. Elrond
held his nose and opened his mouth.
At this point Elladan had got up and opened a window to let out both the
malevolent odour and the majority of his Ada's next sentences, delivered in
a fetching nasal twang. It was one his finest.
"Elladan! You wretched beeping beep. I should take your
beeping beep and beeping well beep it. See how you feel!"
It was all Elladan could do to hang onto the window sill for dear life whilst
collapsing in a fit of hilarity and congratulating himself on raising his
Ada's blood pressure enabling his heart to fully exercise itself.
Then, of course, the entire company had to leave the room and recover in
the gardens, whilst it was hurriedly decontaminated by a few unfortunate servants.
Which rather put an end to the whole proceedings, thank the Valar.
The toad slimed his nose, yet again. Foul. That was it!
The final slime.
"Leggy, wake up! Get your toad off the pillow. And get off my arm.
I'm dying, really I am," came the plaintive and heart wrenching cry.
"Ai, what, who, where? Ell?" Legolas was roused into the land
of the living. He sat up, grinding Elladan's arm into the mattress and
delivering the final insult. Elladan began to cry.
"What's the matter, my darling? Oh, I see - the toad. He likes
you, you know and it *is* the mating season for amphibians. Valar, what am
I sitting on? Oh, yes, it's your arm. What a daft place to put
it. No wonder you're crying. Here, have it back. Shall I make
you a nice blackcurrant tea then?" It was his panacea to all known ills.
With that he got up, stark naked and went to the door. Someone was
knocking on it. How plebeian of them, it was only 10 am. He opened
it to find Mistress Erutanie standing there, taking in all the magnificent
sights of Lothlórien.
~
Two pots of blackcurrant tea and a good wash later found Elladan in a much
better state. Mistress Erutanie had bound his injured arm with a witch
hazel poultice to bring out the bruising and was relating the state of play
at Imladris. The two elves were rapt with attention, needless to say,
whilst Legolas was wrapt with nothing at all. He often indulged in naturism
on the grounds that his skin had to breathe. Of course it helped that he
had the physique of a god so that people tended to forgive him rather than
locking him up.
"Master Erestor shocked and scandalized the Council last month," continued
Erutanie, avidly, "his speech ended at least ten minutes earlier than usual.
Lord Elrond asked him if he was sickening for something. And then Glorfindel
has taken up DIY, again, in a big way." She looked challengingly at
Elladan. He did not disappoint her.
"Well he always was an f.w. at the best of times," replied Elladan, rudely.
"I know, what a waste," finished Erutanie, laughing at their favourite joke.
Glorfindel's attempts at decoration always ended in contention. Mainly
because Celebrian's sense of colour and design did not match up with Glorfindel's.
However, that didn't seem to put him off in the slightest. On the contrary,
he saw it as a challenge. The dining room walls had been painted so many times
that the room dimensions had shrunk in direct proportion to the layers of
paint applied.
A whole shed on the Imladris grounds was dedicated to the storage of Glorfindel's
various paints, papers, brushes, ladders and sundry small plaster representations
of persons, dragons, birdies, leaves and the like, all with flat backs so
that one could stick them onto walls. It was a shed which Glorfindel
could retire to of an evening in order to plan the next make-over or sulk
over the latest disaster.
Mistress Erutanie related the tale of when Lord Elrond had once been forced
to ask Glorfindel to remove the magnificent and intricate frieze of fire-breathing
dragons frying young maidens, which he had fashioned on the wall opposite
the dining table, because it put everyone off their food. Glorfindel
had been inconsolable and had sulked for weeks, practically camping out in
the shed.
"And how is your husband, Mistress?" inquired Legolas, wiping the tears
from his eyes.
"Ai, *that* idiot. He's gone stag hunting on the North Downs and won't
be back for weeks, hence my visit here. Oh, there was one other bit
of gossip. Your Adar thinks he's found a prospective bride for Elrohir,"
confided Erutanie.
"Really!" said Elladan, trying to think what unfortunate maid would be mad
or stupid enough to wed his brother. Or both, even.
Their happy social occasion was interrupted by a hammering on the door.
Mistress Erutanie got up to answer it by force of habit. Her actions
were law back in the kitchens at Imladris and she liked to extend the concept
to as many places as possible. Besides, if she gawped at Legolas anymore
she felt that she might be in danger of going blind. She opened the door to
find Captain Haldir posed with a scroll for Legolas sent from Mirkwood and
received first thing that morning.
It was bright and sunny outside so it took the Captain a while to acclimatise
to the shady interior of the talan and he droned on in his usual inimitable
manner to the person he took to be either Legolas or Elladan.
"And I have much better things to do than to deliver scrolls to persons
who if they got up at a reasonable hour could receive them in the dining
chamber like anyone else. It really is quite aggravating to..."
He ground to a halt in mid flow as he became aware that a very comely lady
was listening to him quite intently with an amused expression on her sweet
face. His eyes were understandably drawn to her overflowing corset
pulled together in such as way as to emphasis her best assets. He coughed
and recovered quickly which was one of his outstanding virtues. "...quite
aggravating not to have met you before, my Lady."
"I've only just arrived from Imladris on a visit," said Erutanie, taking
the scroll from Haldir and handing it to Legolas. "But I do need someone
to show me the delights of Lothlórien. Especially the interior
design of the various talans as I'm interested in local handicrafts."
She addressed the request to an area of Haldir situated below his waist.
"Well, allow me, dear Lady," returned the Captain, never one to miss a Valar-sent
opportunity. "I'm sure we can get it all in before lunch," he advanced.
"If not dinner," added Erutanie, thinking that in dealing with a carrot
of those proportions one should take careful preparations in order to provide
a substantial repast.
"Yes. Lunch may be forcing the issue and I hate to hurry a good issue,
don't you?"
"Oh, yes. Otherwise such an unmerited action may result in a less
than satisfactory elevation."
They were fairly evenly matched. Erutanie made plans to meet Legolas
and Elladan for dinner and then left the talan with Haldir. The last
thing Elladan heard the Captain saying was that his elevations were built
to last.
"I didn't think Haldir was interested in construction," remarked Elladan.
"He and his brothers are all military folk, aren't they?"
"Oh my innocent darling," chuckled Legolas. "He meant this sort of
elevation." His hand reached under the table to his husband's lap.
"Mmm," breathed Elladan, moving closer for a kiss. As they retired
to their bed, the scroll lay forgotten and unopened on the table until much
later on towards dinner time when they decided to get dressed again.
~
"Ai," remarked Legolas as he read the scroll. "We shall have to pay
a visit to Mirkwood. My brother, Malthorn, says that Adar is behaving
more strangely than usual and even Naneth is worried. She says that
sometimes only I can put him right. Which is absolutely true."
"Not well?" asked Elladan as he braided Legolas' hair into place ready for
a smart appearance at dinner. "Surely you aggravate him enough to keep
him fit?"
"Well, yes, I am a past master at *that* game. But you see I haven't
been there for ages and I expect Malthorn has let things slip. He's
been far too busy producing the next generation to notice whether Adar was
slipping out of line. It's a fine line, too."
"How do you mean?" Elladan tied twine around the last braid, placed
a circlet on the princes' head and stood back to admire his handiwork.
Very nice. But then his husband looked well in anything, even if they'd
been rolling around on the forest floor and his hair was full of leaf mould
and twigs.
"Adar can either be cross, obtuse and appear nuts, or be completely nuts
in May. Then the only way out is to employ aggravation manoeuvres.
It sounds like he's the latter in this case. Spending inordinate amounts
of time alone in his study, leaving the day-to-day running of Mirkwood to
Malthorn - which is practically unheard of - and not at all interested in
attending on Naneth. Now that *is* worrying, especially the not attending
on Naneth bit."
"I think we had better leave for Mirkwood in the morning. We can take
Erutanie with us for moral support," decided Elladan.
"Yes, good idea. And Haldir would be useful also as an arbitrator.
For some peculiar reason Adar actually likes him. We can ask them after
dinner. No doubt they'll be in a good mood after all the afternoon's
sight seeing."
~
They all arrived at Mirkwood the following evening. However, there
was a slight altercation on route. Legolas' toad escaped from the saddlebag
and heroically leapt across an intervening horse to land straight on Elladan's
shoulder. That was enough of a shock to start with, but to add further
insult it slimed Elladan's ear in a gesture of adoration, whereupon the recipient
of its attentions fell off his horse and landed in a bramble bush. There
then ensued the following conversation.
"F.! Beep, that beeping thing, I could really beep its beeping beep." (Rustle,
scrape, shriek, rustle)
"But Ell, darling, he loves you. How could you say such things to
a poor little toad?" (Searches for toad, ignores husband)
"I don't know why you bought the beeping beep." (Scramble, snap, rustle,
heaves to feet, removes various thorns)
"I simply wanted to find him a mate. Something a bit different from
the hoi polloi of Lórien." (Takes up toad, rubs tummy. Toad emits
satisfied whirring noise; third eyelid comes into operation doing fair impression
of hideous amphibian vampire)
"Ai, Elbereth! Put it away, Leggy." (Gets back on horse fighting off
wave of nausea)
Comment from Captain - "Aye, do. We've seen it all *so* many times."
Comment from Mistress Erutanie - "Pray, don't. Not at Imladris, we
haven't."
(Party continues in general mood of hilarity except for Elladan who sulks
as only a son of Elrond is capable of)
*****************************
Legolas was forced to hammer on the enormous iron door, which was the entrance
to Mirkwood, for an inordinately long time. This was because his Adar was
the only one who could open it by dint of magic, and he liked to know who
was on the other side first. Because Haldir was amongst the party, they
obtained entrance and were escorted to the Great Hall.
Legolas' Naneth, the fair Lady Nimiel, was there to greet them - which she
did most enthusiastically. She was very pleased to meet Elladan at last
since Thranduil, in a fit of peevishness, had banned family members from
attending the wedding held at Imladris. She decided that she approved
of her son's choice. Then, having settled them all at a table sipping
reviving cups of blackcurrant tea and dining on a late supper, took her son
aside to discuss the state of Thranduil's sanity.
The only other incident of merit to take place that night was when the great
elven King, himself, entered the Great Hall for a short period of time before
retiring. He made a beeline for Haldir, hugged him delightedly, exchanged
greetings and then looked around for his son.
Legolas was perched on a chair. Thranduil shook his head. Elbereth,
that lad was touched.
"Good Evening, Adar," he began, "I trust I find you in the best of health."
"Yes, I am fine. So why are you here? And I hardly like to ask,
but is there something wrong with the ceiling?" It was the only possible
explanation he could think of.
"No, the carvings look as though they could do with a dust, though." He
smiled and considered how much it would take to test out his Adar's aggravation
point. Not much, he thought. Thranduil looked tired and out of
sorts. Obviously Malthorn had done nothing to keep him in running order,
useless sod. "You told me I could do what I liked as long as I kept
off your land. So I'm keeping off."
"Elbereth! Are you being deliberately obtuse, Legolas?" He banged
his wooden staff on the floor making Nimiel jump and nearly drop the teacups
she was carrying.
"No, no. Of course not. It's all completely natural and inherited."
"What! You asinine boy. I don't know why I bother talking to
you, I really don't. I'd get more sense from an inebriated warg. I'm
going to my study. I hope you aren't staying for too long." He
turned on his heel and left.
As the door banged shut Legolas jumped down from the chair and turned to
his Naneth. "You were right, Nana. There's definitely something
amiss with Adar. He should have lasted a great deal longer than that
before flying off the hook. But don't worry. I'll get to the bottom
of it." He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a big hug.
~
The following day passed in pleasantries without much else happening until
the evening.
Conveniently locked away in his study, King Thranduil was practicing to
be a wizard. He was creating a time loop focused exclusively on a large
oval mirror hung in pride of place on the north facing wall, so he could see
what course his life might take in the far distant future. Lord Lórien,
the Vala King of Dreams and Visions was secretly overseeing the whole egocentric
business and naturally causing all sorts of illusions.
Thranduil flapped his arms about and uttered a highly suspect spell.
Lord Lórien waggled a finger and the mirror smoked over for a while
and then cleared to show a handsome blond fellow with his hair done up in
plaits and ribbons. Very pretty.
"May I enquire your name and the position you hold on Ennor?" asked Thranduil,
agog at the spectacle and wondering how on Arda he was going to turn into
a human at some point and indeed, why.
"I am Lord Beckham and I am held in the greatest public regard in the field
of sportive activities. Balls to be precise," said the Blond athlete.
"Excellent," replied Thranduil who was inordinately pleased to hear that
little gem. "Are you married?" he added.
"Oh yes. My wife, Victoria, has been instrumental in the cosmic dissolution
of the popular music industry. We have two children, one named after
a place in the Big Apple where he was conceived, and another named after a
character made famous by some playwright or other," replied Lord Beckham,
scratching his head absent-mindedly as he tried in vain to remember the name
of the playwright. Victoria had told him a million times but he still
forgot.
"Wasn't it difficult conceiving your son up a fruit tree?" asked Thranduil,
his mind boggling at the thought and thinking that perhaps he better put in
a little practice.
"It's not a tree but a district - a large town," explained Lord Beckham,
thinking that by God were they thick here.
"The Big Apple," quoted Thranduil, not quite taking it all in, "I suppose
that is as famous as the Telperion tree of Valinor is it?"
"Bound to be," continued Lord Beckham, "Everyone knows about the Big Apple."
The mirror started to fog over again and Lord Beckham rapidly disappeared
from view leaving Thranduil somewhat annoyed because he had rather liked this
incarnation.
Lord Lórien made movements with his finger again and another form
began to take shape in the mirror. It was a curly-headed fellow with
a prominent nose and a permanently amused expression on his face. Thranduil
thought for one horrible moment that he would be turning into a hobbit in
the future and then the vision spoke.
"I am the Doctor," he said merrily, flicking a long knitted scarf over his
shoulder and further confirming Thranduil's suspicions of said hobbit incarnation,
"I don't suppose this insipid dungeon is anywhere near Galifray is it?
I set the Tardis to the correct co- ordinates but I'm rather afraid it does
as it likes."
"You are on Ennor in the year 288 of the third age," replied Thranduil enthusiastically,
"Can you tell me from what time period you hail?"
"Time holds no sway over me, Sir," said the Doctor indignantly, reaching
into his pocket and pulling out a packet of jelly babies. "I am an immortal
Time Lord. I regenerate from time to time." He proceeded to bite
the head off one.
Well, well, thought Thranduil. At some future date he would perfect
the art of wizardry and would be able to travel indiscriminately through time.
Marvellous! That hairstyle, though. Ye Gods! It was
almost too high a price to pay. Another thought struck him.
"Do you have a wife?" he asked.
"A wife? No, no. I've had lots of assistants, though.
I suppose you might call them marriages of a kind. Ladies and gents
and a tin doggy to boot," laughed the Doctor, polishing off another jelly
baby.
Thranduil was shocked. Females, fine. Males, alright, at a push
but *dogs*? Valar, he wasn't looking forward to *this* incarnation at
all.
Thankfully the mirror clouded over again and Lord Lórien had difficulties
standing up straight because he was convulsed with fits of giggling.
This was a better afternoon's entertainment than his all time favourite.
The time when he'd convinced Elrond that Cirdan was sailing up the Bruinen
and would want dinner laid on for him and his crew. Elrond had laughed
that one off by admitting he'd drunk more 2nd Ager than was good for him but
Celebrian had berated him for weeks afterwards because she'd been forced to
lend a hand in the kitchens for no good reason.
At that point Thranduil heard Legolas banging on the door, asking to be
let in and he hurriedly covered over the mirror with a wall hanging.
Then he opened the door to his son who informed him that dinner was shortly
to be served. Lord Lórien, seeing that the entertainment had
come to an end, departed for Valinor.
~
"When do you think you might be leaving, then?" asked Thranduil, taking
a forkful of vegetable compote and eyeing Legolas meaningfully.
"Thranduil!" interjected Nimiel, looking apologetically in the direction
of the Lórien party.
"When I'm quite sure that you are well, Ada," returned Legolas, reaching
for the salt.
"Of course I'm well. I'm never ill. Why, even your naneth knows
*that* yet she insists on making this damn beeping fuss. So tomorrow
you can be on your way."
He was interrupted by the strangest noises emanating from a lidded vegetable
pot. A sort of a vibrating hum accompanied by a high pitched squeak
every now and then. It was rather grating on the ears.
"What the." began Thranduil, as Elladan - who was the nearest - removed
the lid of the ceramic vessel.
Sitting on a bed of steamed cabbage leaves was Legolas' toad, purposefully
engaged in mating with a similarly coloured if somewhat smaller feminine version
of himself. Everyone stared in rank disbelief. Steam rose metaphorically
rose from the ecstatic pair or it might have been the cabbage leaves fermenting
of course, and a barrage of tuneless croaks, squeaks and grunts echoed around
the chamber.
"Sounds like you, Haldir," said Erutanie, trying to make light of the occasion
whilst Haldir spat out the drink he was halfway through swallowing straight
down the front of Nimiel's gown. She gave him a look fit to freeze a
warg at ten paces and reached for her handkerchief.
"I do *not* squeak, dear lady," he returned quickly. "Unless you count the
bed slats."
The toads were gathering pace now and the vegetable pot inched along the
table with the force of the proceedings. Elladan was hypnotised not
ever having seen such phenomenal displays of amphibian virility before.
He had a sudden thought and released it without any thought of diplomacy.
"Oh, is that why you tie the bed to the wall then, melme?" he asked Legolas.
All eyes turned towards Legolas for the answer. He smiled sweetly.
"Technique that good, little brother?" voiced Malthorn, laughing and clutching
his stomach so as to prevent indigestion.
"Ask Adar," returned Legolas. "He always ties his bed to a couple of iron
rings on the wall. That's how he managed to produce such fine offspring."
"That's enough," yelled Thranduil. "If you think I'm going to have
my sex life dissected by my *own* sons you've got another thing coming!"
Which was a most appropriate sentence as the toads were indeed reaching
a conclusion right under Nimiel's nose. A particularly satisfied and
horrendously abrading croak finished the proceedings as Nimiel hastily replaced
the lid remarking that she really would have to have a serious word with Cook
over where she placed the food waiting to be taken into the dining chamber.
"I shan't have to find a partner for my toad now as he appears to have found
his own," remarked Legolas unwisely.
"*Your* toad," stated Thranduil, rubbing his forehead. "I might have
known you would have something to do with this whole beeping beep-up.
I'm going to my beeping study," he added, rising from the table and taking
his plate, "where I can finish my beeping dinner in some semblance of beep,
beeping order."
He flounced out of the chamber and slammed the door. Everyone collapsed
into hysteria.
"Nothing wrong with his heart, then," gasped Elladan, wiping the tears from
his eyes.
"No," agreed Legolas, "and note, darling, that *I* do not have to stoop
to the Fly of Mordor manoeuvre."
Elladan regarded his husband with some awe.
****************
"Kiss me, Leggy," murmured Elladan, scuffling around to get a more comfortable
position. It was the afternoon of the next day and he and Legolas were hidden
behind the back of the sofa in Thranduil's study on a mission to see exactly
what the Elven lord got up to.
"No," said the prince, equally softly, stretching out a leg before he lost
it entirely to cramp.
"Why ever not?"
"Because it never stops just there does it?" He eyed his husband up
and down.
Elladan giggled. It was true. One kiss and they were off.
He'd never had so much fun in his life before. "I can be quiet."
"Well I can not." More giggles. "Ssssh!" The door opened
and Thranduil entered his sanctum sanctorum.
He set up his candles in their brass stands, lit them and uncloaked the
mirror. He then uttered something in Quenya in a low, theatrical voice
reminiscent of Gandalf directing the elements.
Manwë and Elbereth, thought Legolas. He had never, no *never*
heard his Adar speak a single word of the ancient language, he would rather
choke on his entrails. There was something seriously wrong here.
Then Elladan was digging him in the ribs to get his attention. "What?"
he whispered.
"Look, over there, in the corner." Elladan pointed as best he could,
given the confined space. A tall, imposing figure had appeared that
Thranduil seemed oblivious to.
"I can see nothing."
More chanting from Thranduil, who was now throwing a mixture of herbs and
earth over the mirror. Lord Lórien waggled a finger and smoke
rose over the mirror, clearing a moment later to reveal a wizened, grossly
deformed elf-like creature.
Thranduil was clearly taken aback. If he was going to look like *that*
he was off to the Halls of Mandos right now. He thought he better ask.
"May I enquire your name?"
The creature blinked and appeared to levitate above the swamp which was
his abode.
"Yoda, my name is and a Jedi Master, I am." His oversized ears twitched
in an oversized manner. Elladan thought he looked cute, like a little
bald hobbit.
"A Jedi Master," repeated Thranduil. It sounded interesting now.
"Yes, no ears have you?" replied Yoda. The new recruit appeared to
be as ill prepared as Master Skywalker.
"Not as big as yours," said Thranduil rudely.
"Lightsabers can reach long distances," warned Yoda. This fellow was
as cheeky as Obi-Wan. "Singe your impudent ass, they will."
"Lightsabers?" repeated Thranduil. Even more interesting. Swords
one did not have risk a hernia to use. "Where do you live, pray tell,
Master Yoda?"
"Dagobah, this planet she is called," explained Yoda, patiently. By
the Force, this one was proving to be as thick as two short planks.
His work cut out, he would have.
"Is it all like that?" Thranduil watched as a depressing mist rose
up from the ground of Dagobah. He could just imagine bubbles of sulphur
bursting on the surface of the dank waters. "Does it have another name,
maybe Mordor?"
"Mordor? To visit the bathroom, you wish? Wasting my time, you are.
Learn wisdom and in five thousand years, to this place, return you.
No, ten thousand, make it. On the safe side, to be." Yoda turned
around and floated off-mirror.
Thranduil sighed, extinguished the candles, covered up the now redundant
mirror and flounced off to wine cellars to get a drink. That was the very
last time he would seek to dabble in the future. He had a feeling that
The Powers That Be were playing tricks on him and, therefore, he could be
assured of nothing. The study door banged shut with his departure.
Lord Lórien wiped the tears from his eyes and walked over to the
sofa. He drew the sofa back without any apparent effort and addressed
Elladan. Legolas was shocked for the furniture was moving under its
own steam.
"Ai, Elladan Peredhil. You are speaking to Lord Lórien of Valinor.
Do you know why you can see me?" asked Lord Lórien, standing in front
of a pedestal atop of which was a forest fern.
"I'm not exactly sure, my Lord," replied Elladan, hesitantly.
"You are my son," stated the Vala. "Anyone that was could do the same."
"But..." began Elladan.
"Yes, I know. Elrohir is Elrond's son and I placed you alongside him
in your Naneth's womb. I thought you might like some company.
I'm sorry if he turned out to be such a boring sod. Blame Elrond."
"But..." continued Elladan. Legolas looked askance. Now his
husband was conversing with a potted plant.
"Why haven't I made my presence known until now?"
Elladan nodded.
"I've had one or two other items on the agenda to attend to. Overseeing
all of Arda's dreamtime and fulfilling those fortunate people's desires that
deserve to have them fulfilled. Things like that. All in a millennia's
work, you understand."
"But..." continued Elladan's litany.
"Why do I play tricks? It helps people learn. I let out the
rope, you see. And when it is long enough, I give it a big yank on
the other end. Hee, hee! Shocks to the ego. By the way,
I should be pleased if you would continue to look after Elrond in the inimitable
way that you do. I'm proud of you, Elladan. You won't ever loose
that innocent charm that you have. And now I should go, my job on Thranduil
is done. Wood elves are not Istari. They're not made that way.
Namarie."
He bent down and planted a kiss on Elladan's cheek. Elladan felt the
sweep of night, a myriad of hopes and desires and a love that would encompass
the world. He reeled a little at the vastness of the sensations and
then looked up. His Adar had disappeared.
"Elladan, are you alright?" It was Legolas sounding concerned and
stroking his arm.
"Yes, melme. I am alright now. And your Adar will be too.
Very soon." He hugged the astonished and uncomprehending prince, burying
his face in the soft, blond hair and feeling all at once...blissful.
***************
A few days later and our intrepid party were on their way back home to Lothlórien,
leaving Legolas' Adar in a much better and chastened mood than they had found
him in. Lady Nimiel was delighted and Legolas relieved. The only
fly in the ointment as far as Elladan was concerned, was that there were now
two toads sitting contentedly on his shoulder. Why on Arda should they
grace him with their truly delightful presence he could not imagine.
But then he supposed it was one of his Adar's jokes. His other Adar,
that was, for now he had two. Aye, and one required much more looking
after than the other. This forthcoming wedding of Elrohir's, for instance.
They'd eed to travel back to Imladris with Mistress Erutanie, who would no
doubt drag a willing Haldir along in her incomparable wake. A compassionate
son's work was never done.
A slimy tongue scrapped the inside of his ear. Amphibian mucus ran
down the side of his neck in a neat line of putridity. He bawled out,
in a none too loving tone, "Legolas!"
The End (for now) Yes, that's what they *all* say, these writers.
Start a story, get to the 20th chapter and leave it for months whilst they
get on with things quite unimportant like jobs, partners, gardening and DIY.
They don't realise they cause endless and pointless suffering to their poor
readers. They need to sort out their priorities, they do. Hey
- put my toad back in the coal shed will you? I washed him in the sink
in Fairy liquid. He doesn't look well and every time he croaks a flotilla
of rainbow coloured bubbles come out.
In memory of my Papa, Manohar Sulin, may the Goddess bless his generous
soul.
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