Crack Stories of Legolas vs. Me
Summary: It was all Legolas' fault; he should have known that he should not taunt the author, but I guess he did not know…
A/N: Written in the cheerful spirit of the coming holidays– even sacrificing sleep to continue in the early hours of the night/morning.
Spoiler - "Thranduil's Last Breath"
Legolas pushed his father out of the way, bursting out, "No… father, please…"
Thranduil turned around to face his son, looking the lines of concern that marked his face. He sighed heavily before he spoke to him, "I need to do it, my son, as I want to see you alive. I can endure everything she does to me, as long as you're alive; this is what's most important to me, do you understand, my son?"
"But she killed you once, and even me too when I left the palace angry about everything… You know, she killed me too…" Legolas cried, stopping for a moment to breathe, and then he added, while glaring at the author, "You know, I am waiting to read about the Happy Version that you should have already posted. I want to know if you will bring my father back to life, I want you to bring my father back to life!"
"You want that, don't you?" The author asked Legolas, mischief showing in her eyes.
Legolas merely nodded at the author, feeling nervous at her question.
"Well, I want to torture you as much as I can, or when the plot bunnies show up, but I will not give out what I plan to do to you in the Happy Version… I cannot guarantee you anything, you should remember that, Legolas…" The author sneered at him and added a large smile.
And a growl escaped from Thranduil's mouth.
Legolas turned toward his adar wondering about it; he did not recall his father growling in the past.
"Do not look at me; it is all the author's fault…" Thranduil blamed in a harsh whisper.
"What did I do?" The author asked the king innocently.
"Since when do I growl?" Thranduil questioned the author, and soon he could see his fingers disappearing before his very eyes.
"WHAT? Return me my fingers, I want them back…" he yelled as his other fingers vanished the same way. The author did not respond to him but merely wrote and filled up more pages.
Legolas stared in shock as his father began to disappear before him, and he could do nothing to stop it; all he could do was look at that helplessness that filled his father's eyes.
"I failed him…" Legolas stared down at the floor, his blue eyes letting the tears fall surround him with a rivers of tears.
"Shush… Do not cry… He will be back someday…" The author taunted him.
"I want him now!" The prince demanded but this time, it sounded more like an elfling throwing a tantrum than an actual order.
"What did you do with my voice? I want my voice back!"
"Why? I love you more as an elfling. You're so cute and innocent."
Legolas wiped his tears away, ignoring the dampness now soaking in his clothes. He was feeling so miserable and softly whispered a name.
"He is not going to help you, Legolas…"
"Why not? He is the one who is called Hope, and I have the hope he will save me from you. After all, he is my best friend." Legolas insisted, still in that childish voice.
"Want to bet on it?" The author teased him, her brown eyes sparkling with joy and pleasure.