Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, or any of its characters, and do not profit from this writing - which tells you the type of twisted individual I really am. Legolas: I suppose you plan on putting me in this fic, alsoright? Me: You don't sound too upset this time, Lego Legolas: I have resigned myself to the fact that you are to be the bane of my existence. Me: Meaning? Legolas: I will not be able to rid myself of you till the end of days or death takes me. Me: Wowever the optimist, huh?
THE EGO OLYMPICS
Summery:Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, and Haldir, March Warden of Lothlorien, have been competitors in everything for a millennium. Which will win the Ego Olympics? AU, Non-Canon. Humor. Rated PG13 for offensive language and some adult situations.
A/N:Many thanks to Avaril for the plot bunny! This one's for you, Birdbreak out the red wine and the popcorn, and have a seat on the sofa.
The Odd Thing About Elves
Two tall fair-haired elves stood shoulder to shoulder at the target range, firing arrows at lightning speed at the targets across the field.
Neither one missed. Neither one EVER missed. It was getting boring.
"Will you please just admit that I am a better archer than you, and end this? Really, this competitive streak in you is most unbecoming," Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, said to his rival.
"I will not admit it, because you are NOT a better archer. You only think so in your fevered imagination," Haldir, March Warden of Lothlorien replied haughtily, notching yet another arrow in his bow.
"We've been at this for hours!"
"Getting tired? Ready to concede?"
Darkness fell on the two Elves, still rapid-firing arrows at the targets. Another tall Elf, this one as dark as the other two were light, made his way onto the field.
"What the hell is wrong with you two? Do you know what time it is?"
"He won't concede," Haldir said with a sneer. "I will NOT give up until he does, Elrond."
"I will not concede to this conceited, walking pisspot!" Legolas growled, readying another arrow.
"Really, Legolashow do you stay upright with that swelled head of yours?" Haldir shot back, grabbing another arrow from his quiver.
"PUT THOSE DOWN!" Elrond roared, slapping the bows out of both the archers' hands. "You are keeping half of Rivendell awake with this nonsense! You two have been knocking heads since you were elflings - when are you going to grow up?"
"He is an insufferable son-of-a-warg who refuses to admit that he has been bested!" Legolas stated, folding his arms over his chest, glaring at his opponent.
"He is an obnoxious pile of Orc droppings who refuses to yield to his superiors," Haldir said, folding his arms over his chest, and glaring right back.
"I have had it with the both of you! For your information, your father, King Thranduil" Elrond poked a finger at Legolas, "and your employers, Celeborn and Galadrial" he continued, poking a finger at Haldir, "have decided that this feud is to end! No one can stand being in the same room as you two for more than a few minutes because of your constant bickering! I have been charged - much against my will, by the way - with developing a series of competitions to determine a clear-cut winner between the two of you. You will both compete, you will both agree to the decision of the judges, and you will both knock off this stupid arrow-slinging marathon this very instant!" Elrond concluded, panting for breath.
"We have already competed against each other in every form of exercise many times without EVER scoring a point higher than the other - how will a judge decide between us?" Legolas scoffed, putting his arrow back in his quiver.
"For once, I agree with this dung heap - archery, swordplay, sparring, trackingyou name it and he refuses to believe that I've beat him at it," Haldir said contemptuously, looking down his nose at Legolas.
"Haldir, in all the centuries that I have known you, I have yet to see you take your head out of your ass!" Legolas retorted, his piercing blue eyes trying to bore holes in Haldir's composure.
"The competitions I have in mind are none that either of you have ever trained forbelieve me, there WILL be a winner!" Elrond interrupted, whipping his robes about him as he turned and stalked away, leaving the two fair-haired Elves alone on the field.
"I'm hungry. Let's go grab something in the kitchens," Legolas said, picking up his bow from the ground.
"Me toowe missed lunch and dinner. Hey! Betcha I can eat more lembas than you," Haldir said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Not on your best dayyou silver-haired, frog-faced freak!" Legolas said, his own lips curling into a smile.
"You are onyou pompous peckerhead!"
They began walking quickly back toward the Last Homely House. Within moments they were both running at breakneck speed, each trying to beat the other to the kitchen.
Elrond flopped wearily in a chair in his room. His chief advisor, Erestor, carried in a pot of tea on a tray, setting it down on the table next to the Lord of Rivendell.
"Elrondis your headache any better?" he asked politely, pouring a cup of tea for each of them.
"I have two headaches, Erestorand they seem to be racing each other here as we speak," Elrond replied, looking out of the window and seeing Legolas and Haldir bolting toward the Last Homely House.
Erestor snorted, taking the chair opposite Elrond, and sipping his tea. "Those two have been at it for centuries. What ever started them on this entire competition thing, anyway?"
"Who knows? It's just in their natures. Both seem to have a need to be the best at everything. It's become rather tiring."
"Who will be judging these, ercompetitions?" Erestor asked, looking over the list of events on the scroll that sat on the table.
"Glorfindel, Aragorn, Arwen, Eowyn, and Gandalf."
"Impressive list. When, might I ask, will the competitions begin?"
"In two week's time. Thranduil, Celeborn, and Galadrial all wish to attend, and it will take some time for them to get here."
"Things are going to get very interesting around here, Elrond."
"I know. Don't I look excited to you?" Elrond said dryly, rolling his eyes, and sipping his tea.