Post by Mirele Silverbow on Aug 4, 2003 13:29:12 GMT -5
Here's chapter two, Lady Eru!
Chapter Two: In Which Legolas is Stupid
Legolas waltzed slowly through the halls of the palace behind the servant, who often had to slow down to allow for the Elven-prince’s lagging speed. “My Prince,” she snapped. ‘You must hurry or you will miss the Lord Peredhil’s departure by hours!”
“Coming, coming,” Legolas said, twirling and staring at the ceiling. “Let me see Arwen one last time in her wedding gown,” he murmured, “with her dowry in her arms.”
“You shall never see the Lady Evenstar if you move so slowly, my Prince,” the servant said loudly. “Come along.”
Legolas quickened his pace as he spun around and saw Elrond leave the Council Room with his father. “You may leave me now, Elwen.”
Unnoticed to the foolish Prince, Elwen stuck her tongue out at his retreating back and returned to her usual duties, besides escorting Legolas around so that he would not get lost in the palace.
“Father,” Legolas said, bowing to Thranduil. “Lord Peredhil.” He bowed to Elrond. “How fares my Lords?”
“Legolas,” Thranduil said, hugging his son warmly. “I see you have remembered the proper courtesies (amazingly) and have greeted Lord Elrond.”
“Yes, my father.” Legolas turned to Elrond. “Lord Peredhil,” he said. “I would like to speak to you of your daughter.”
“Truly?” Elrond asked. “It has been many a year since a suitor dared to court my daughter. She loves Aragorn, the heir of Isildur and the throne of Gondor.”
“I don’t really care,” was Legolas’s ‘witty’ reply.
“You have a point, my son,” Thranduil said, laughing. He was about half as intelligent as his Legolas. “Now, let us have some fine Mirkwood wine!”
“That sounds nice,” Legolas said, forgetting all about Arwen. “Come, Lord Peredhil. Mirkwood has the finest wine in Arda, and fine Shire pipe-weed, too.”
Elrond look puzzled for a moment, and then shrugged. “That is fine with me,” he said. “Whosoever makes the wine of Mirkwood should be praised, and given an Elven-kingdom to rule.”
Legolas and Thranduil both shifted uneasily. They bought Mirkwood wine from the Dwarves. But Thranduil said, “Come to the cellars, Elrond. You too, Legolas.”
The three descended to the cellars below the palace. It was Legolas’s favorite place, where he often came to get drunk and again and again fall desperately in love with his reflection in the waters of the pond in the cellars. The same pond through which the Dwarves and the “hobbit” had escaped.
“Alder,” Thranduil commanded, laughing. “Fetch us some fine wine, some Shire pipe-weed, and chairs.”
“Yes, King Thranduil,” Alder said. He bowed to each of them in turn, and left silently, stiffly walking through the hallways of barrels. It was underneath Alder’s station to be fetching and carrying, even for the King, the Prince, and a royal guest.
“The great wine cellars of Mirkwood,” Thranduil said, clapping Elrond on the back. The slight man stumbled forward a step. “Are they not majestic?”
“Quite so,” Elrond replied, not seeing how rotting wood and barrels smelling strongly of fermented grapes could be described as “majestic”.
Alder arrived with the wine and other items. “My Lords,” he said. “If you would take a seat, I will pour the wine.”
“We do not need our wine poured like we are children, Alder,” Legolas said sharply, even though having Alder there would prevent them from making total fools of themselves. What was he forgetting?
***Later***
All three of the Elves were thoroughly drunk. Elrond hiccupped, and then said, “I was expected (hiccup) in Rivendell three (hiccup) hours ago…”
Legolas giggled, saying, “Have another (hiccup) cup of wine, Elrond.”
“Yes (hiccup), do…” Thranduil added faintly, then fell out of his chair and began to snore. The other two Elves laughed.
“Elrond,” Legolas began, “do let me (hiccup) see your ring.” He held out his hand, and hiccupped. “Please,” he whined, and hiccupped again.
Elrond, being the drunkest of the lot, slid Vilya off his finger and handed it to Legolas. “It’s (hiccup) Vilya, the Ring (hiccup) of Air (hiccup). You can (hiccup) do many things (hiccup) with it.”
“Can you make (hiccup) somebody fall in love (hiccup) with you?” Legolas asked slowly. He looked at Elrond. “(Hiccup) Elrond?”
“Yes (hiccup),” Elrond replied. “But (hiccup), I must be (hiccup) going home to (hiccup) Rivendell and (hiccup) Arwen (hiccup).” He picked himself up off the table and began to stager up the stairs.
“(Hiccup) Alder!” Legolas called. “We (hiccup) shall need some (hiccup) help in getting (hiccup) my father (hiccup) to his rooms, and (hiccup) the Lord (hiccup) Peredhil to his (hiccup) lovely daughter…” He got from the table, only slightly more graceful than Elrond, and followed his thin, diminishing shape up the stairs to the light of the halls. He fell more than three times.
Chapter Two: In Which Legolas is Stupid
Legolas waltzed slowly through the halls of the palace behind the servant, who often had to slow down to allow for the Elven-prince’s lagging speed. “My Prince,” she snapped. ‘You must hurry or you will miss the Lord Peredhil’s departure by hours!”
“Coming, coming,” Legolas said, twirling and staring at the ceiling. “Let me see Arwen one last time in her wedding gown,” he murmured, “with her dowry in her arms.”
“You shall never see the Lady Evenstar if you move so slowly, my Prince,” the servant said loudly. “Come along.”
Legolas quickened his pace as he spun around and saw Elrond leave the Council Room with his father. “You may leave me now, Elwen.”
Unnoticed to the foolish Prince, Elwen stuck her tongue out at his retreating back and returned to her usual duties, besides escorting Legolas around so that he would not get lost in the palace.
“Father,” Legolas said, bowing to Thranduil. “Lord Peredhil.” He bowed to Elrond. “How fares my Lords?”
“Legolas,” Thranduil said, hugging his son warmly. “I see you have remembered the proper courtesies (amazingly) and have greeted Lord Elrond.”
“Yes, my father.” Legolas turned to Elrond. “Lord Peredhil,” he said. “I would like to speak to you of your daughter.”
“Truly?” Elrond asked. “It has been many a year since a suitor dared to court my daughter. She loves Aragorn, the heir of Isildur and the throne of Gondor.”
“I don’t really care,” was Legolas’s ‘witty’ reply.
“You have a point, my son,” Thranduil said, laughing. He was about half as intelligent as his Legolas. “Now, let us have some fine Mirkwood wine!”
“That sounds nice,” Legolas said, forgetting all about Arwen. “Come, Lord Peredhil. Mirkwood has the finest wine in Arda, and fine Shire pipe-weed, too.”
Elrond look puzzled for a moment, and then shrugged. “That is fine with me,” he said. “Whosoever makes the wine of Mirkwood should be praised, and given an Elven-kingdom to rule.”
Legolas and Thranduil both shifted uneasily. They bought Mirkwood wine from the Dwarves. But Thranduil said, “Come to the cellars, Elrond. You too, Legolas.”
The three descended to the cellars below the palace. It was Legolas’s favorite place, where he often came to get drunk and again and again fall desperately in love with his reflection in the waters of the pond in the cellars. The same pond through which the Dwarves and the “hobbit” had escaped.
“Alder,” Thranduil commanded, laughing. “Fetch us some fine wine, some Shire pipe-weed, and chairs.”
“Yes, King Thranduil,” Alder said. He bowed to each of them in turn, and left silently, stiffly walking through the hallways of barrels. It was underneath Alder’s station to be fetching and carrying, even for the King, the Prince, and a royal guest.
“The great wine cellars of Mirkwood,” Thranduil said, clapping Elrond on the back. The slight man stumbled forward a step. “Are they not majestic?”
“Quite so,” Elrond replied, not seeing how rotting wood and barrels smelling strongly of fermented grapes could be described as “majestic”.
Alder arrived with the wine and other items. “My Lords,” he said. “If you would take a seat, I will pour the wine.”
“We do not need our wine poured like we are children, Alder,” Legolas said sharply, even though having Alder there would prevent them from making total fools of themselves. What was he forgetting?
***Later***
All three of the Elves were thoroughly drunk. Elrond hiccupped, and then said, “I was expected (hiccup) in Rivendell three (hiccup) hours ago…”
Legolas giggled, saying, “Have another (hiccup) cup of wine, Elrond.”
“Yes (hiccup), do…” Thranduil added faintly, then fell out of his chair and began to snore. The other two Elves laughed.
“Elrond,” Legolas began, “do let me (hiccup) see your ring.” He held out his hand, and hiccupped. “Please,” he whined, and hiccupped again.
Elrond, being the drunkest of the lot, slid Vilya off his finger and handed it to Legolas. “It’s (hiccup) Vilya, the Ring (hiccup) of Air (hiccup). You can (hiccup) do many things (hiccup) with it.”
“Can you make (hiccup) somebody fall in love (hiccup) with you?” Legolas asked slowly. He looked at Elrond. “(Hiccup) Elrond?”
“Yes (hiccup),” Elrond replied. “But (hiccup), I must be (hiccup) going home to (hiccup) Rivendell and (hiccup) Arwen (hiccup).” He picked himself up off the table and began to stager up the stairs.
“(Hiccup) Alder!” Legolas called. “We (hiccup) shall need some (hiccup) help in getting (hiccup) my father (hiccup) to his rooms, and (hiccup) the Lord (hiccup) Peredhil to his (hiccup) lovely daughter…” He got from the table, only slightly more graceful than Elrond, and followed his thin, diminishing shape up the stairs to the light of the halls. He fell more than three times.
