Post by Mirele Silverbow on Aug 30, 2003 13:26:43 GMT -5
Chapter Three: In Which Legolas Forgets a Name
Legolas skipped through the corridors, humming a tuneless song and running into the occasional wall. His thumb kept twisting the Ring of Sapphire around the third finger of his right hand. He stopped skipped, lunged against a wall, and gazed at it. It enthralled him more than his reflection. “My (hiccup) precious,” he whispered. “My beauty will (hiccup) love you dearly,” he added, and hopped off, away from his rooms. It took a servant turning him around to the right direction before he stopped running into the wall, still hiccupping.
***Later, in Legolas’s rooms***
He sat down on his fluffy pink vanity stool, running a comb through his golden locks. “The Ring (hiccup) of Air,” he said to himself. “Burn it! I wish I had paid attention in school. Now, who (hiccup) did?”
He vaguely remembered the smallest Elf-boy in his class, a genius called… “What was Celebrimbor’s (hiccup) name?” Legolas shouted, and jumped on his comb. He stopped, and picked up the pieces, threw them in a trash bin, and proceeded to jump on his soft, downy feather bed. “WHAT WAS HIS NAME?” he squealed furiously.
He fell off, landed on his head. “Ouch,” he whined. “I screwed up (hiccup) my hair! But what was Celebrimbor’s name?” He began to think frantically, until it gave him a headache. “What was Celebrimbor’s name? I remember he was the (hiccup) one who forged the Three Rings! Yes! I know that! What in the name of Manwë was Celebrimbor’s name?”
Legolas ran out of his rooms to the cellars, where his father was awake and once again steeped in wine and pipe-weed. Thranduil’s beard was dangerously close to catching fire from the lit pipe.
“Father!” Legolas shouted. “Remember Celebrimbor? The really smart boy from school who forged the Great Rings? What’s (hiccup) his name?”
“Celebrimbor (hiccup), eh?” Thranduil chuckled. “I (hiccup) can’t seem (hiccup) to remember, Legolas (hiccup). Perhaps a (hiccup) bit of a smoke (hiccup) will help the (hiccup) old memory (hiccup), eh?”
“Sure, father,” Legolas replied, running up the cellar steps. He ran to the rooms that the Istari stayed in when they visited. “Mithrandir,” he yelled. “Mithrandir!”
“Yes, Greenleaf?” a deep, sonorous voice behind the Elven-prince asked. “What would you like to know?”
“Mithrandir (hiccup)!” Legolas cried happily spinning around and almost falling over. “What is Celebrimbor’s name?”
The tall grey wizard stared for a moment, and then began to laugh uncontrollably. “Celebrimbor’s name, young Greenleaf? You truly are green!” And he kept laughing.
He laughed for a long time, and Legolas stood around uncomfortably, hiccupping from time to time. “Mithrandir?” he asked. “Will you tell (hiccup) me why you are laughing?”
“You asked Celebrimbor’s name, young Greenleaf. Why do you ask if you already know?”
Legolas was confused, which was not rare for him. “What?”
“Celebrimbor’s name. It is…” Mithrandir looked hard at Legolas. “Young fool, are you telling me that you do not remember Celebrimbor’s name?”
“I swear it on the grave of my mother.”
“Your mother is still alive, Legolas,” Mithrandir reminded the Elven-prince.
“My father?” Legolas ventured. His mother was still alive? Then whose grave did he place flowers on every other Monday?
“Is in the cellars, drunk if unless I miss my guess,” Mithrandir said, appalled at the stupidity of Legolas.
“Oh, then I swear on (hiccup) Elbereth herself,” Legolas said. “Now tell me Celebrimbor’s name.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked, for all the world, like an angry housewife. And he hiccupped.
Mithrandir looked at him in a funny manner, and said, “His name is Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, son of Feanor Curufinwe, son of Finwe High King of the Noldor.”
The names had blown past Legolas’s ear. “Celebrimbor?” he said. “Ah, yes. I remember him now. Thank you, Mithrandir.” He spun around, hiccupped, and fell over. Mithrandir laughed and disappeared.
Legolas glared at the empty air for a moment, then turned around and walked off in the other direction.
And ran into yet another servant. Why was it that he always ran into a servant right before a critical moment in his plan? He sighed angrily. “What?”
“There is a Lady waiting for you in the Lesser Receiving Room,” he said, bowing carefully. “She calls herself Jeannette. She says she is from another place and would love to meet you.”
“Take me to her,” Legolas commanded regally, strutting like a roster around the hallway. He grinned dashingly (or so he thought), and bowed to his reflection in one of the many mirrors hung about the palace.
“Yes, Prince Legolas.” The servant moved off, his pace quicker than what was expected from servants leading their Prince to a possible future wife. “In here, my Prince,” he said.
Legolas twisted Vilya on his finger, and entered.
Legolas skipped through the corridors, humming a tuneless song and running into the occasional wall. His thumb kept twisting the Ring of Sapphire around the third finger of his right hand. He stopped skipped, lunged against a wall, and gazed at it. It enthralled him more than his reflection. “My (hiccup) precious,” he whispered. “My beauty will (hiccup) love you dearly,” he added, and hopped off, away from his rooms. It took a servant turning him around to the right direction before he stopped running into the wall, still hiccupping.
***Later, in Legolas’s rooms***
He sat down on his fluffy pink vanity stool, running a comb through his golden locks. “The Ring (hiccup) of Air,” he said to himself. “Burn it! I wish I had paid attention in school. Now, who (hiccup) did?”
He vaguely remembered the smallest Elf-boy in his class, a genius called… “What was Celebrimbor’s (hiccup) name?” Legolas shouted, and jumped on his comb. He stopped, and picked up the pieces, threw them in a trash bin, and proceeded to jump on his soft, downy feather bed. “WHAT WAS HIS NAME?” he squealed furiously.
He fell off, landed on his head. “Ouch,” he whined. “I screwed up (hiccup) my hair! But what was Celebrimbor’s name?” He began to think frantically, until it gave him a headache. “What was Celebrimbor’s name? I remember he was the (hiccup) one who forged the Three Rings! Yes! I know that! What in the name of Manwë was Celebrimbor’s name?”
Legolas ran out of his rooms to the cellars, where his father was awake and once again steeped in wine and pipe-weed. Thranduil’s beard was dangerously close to catching fire from the lit pipe.
“Father!” Legolas shouted. “Remember Celebrimbor? The really smart boy from school who forged the Great Rings? What’s (hiccup) his name?”
“Celebrimbor (hiccup), eh?” Thranduil chuckled. “I (hiccup) can’t seem (hiccup) to remember, Legolas (hiccup). Perhaps a (hiccup) bit of a smoke (hiccup) will help the (hiccup) old memory (hiccup), eh?”
“Sure, father,” Legolas replied, running up the cellar steps. He ran to the rooms that the Istari stayed in when they visited. “Mithrandir,” he yelled. “Mithrandir!”
“Yes, Greenleaf?” a deep, sonorous voice behind the Elven-prince asked. “What would you like to know?”
“Mithrandir (hiccup)!” Legolas cried happily spinning around and almost falling over. “What is Celebrimbor’s name?”
The tall grey wizard stared for a moment, and then began to laugh uncontrollably. “Celebrimbor’s name, young Greenleaf? You truly are green!” And he kept laughing.
He laughed for a long time, and Legolas stood around uncomfortably, hiccupping from time to time. “Mithrandir?” he asked. “Will you tell (hiccup) me why you are laughing?”
“You asked Celebrimbor’s name, young Greenleaf. Why do you ask if you already know?”
Legolas was confused, which was not rare for him. “What?”
“Celebrimbor’s name. It is…” Mithrandir looked hard at Legolas. “Young fool, are you telling me that you do not remember Celebrimbor’s name?”
“I swear it on the grave of my mother.”
“Your mother is still alive, Legolas,” Mithrandir reminded the Elven-prince.
“My father?” Legolas ventured. His mother was still alive? Then whose grave did he place flowers on every other Monday?
“Is in the cellars, drunk if unless I miss my guess,” Mithrandir said, appalled at the stupidity of Legolas.
“Oh, then I swear on (hiccup) Elbereth herself,” Legolas said. “Now tell me Celebrimbor’s name.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked, for all the world, like an angry housewife. And he hiccupped.
Mithrandir looked at him in a funny manner, and said, “His name is Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, son of Feanor Curufinwe, son of Finwe High King of the Noldor.”
The names had blown past Legolas’s ear. “Celebrimbor?” he said. “Ah, yes. I remember him now. Thank you, Mithrandir.” He spun around, hiccupped, and fell over. Mithrandir laughed and disappeared.
Legolas glared at the empty air for a moment, then turned around and walked off in the other direction.
And ran into yet another servant. Why was it that he always ran into a servant right before a critical moment in his plan? He sighed angrily. “What?”
“There is a Lady waiting for you in the Lesser Receiving Room,” he said, bowing carefully. “She calls herself Jeannette. She says she is from another place and would love to meet you.”
“Take me to her,” Legolas commanded regally, strutting like a roster around the hallway. He grinned dashingly (or so he thought), and bowed to his reflection in one of the many mirrors hung about the palace.
“Yes, Prince Legolas.” The servant moved off, his pace quicker than what was expected from servants leading their Prince to a possible future wife. “In here, my Prince,” he said.
Legolas twisted Vilya on his finger, and entered.
