Summary: One elven festival, ten barrels of enchanted water, and a whole lot of elfling mischief. What can this add up to except chaos, humor, and a complete disaster?
Note: I wanted to stick to cannon, I really did, but occasionally the temptation to abandon it in favor of humor was too much to resist… I don't think I did anything too major though :D. Also, some of the characters are a little OOC, as I am not Tolkien and really cannot write the characters the way he did.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any other works of Tolkien.
Any words in a language you don't recognize? A place you've never heard of? Be sure to check the description at the bottom of the chapter.
Also, thanks to anyone reading this who previously read my other Fanfiction story 'Sweet Valar, What have we Done?' and favorited or reviewed; your support is appreciated and keeps me writing!
The First Day
The normally placid settlement of Imladris was in a state that could be described as chaotic. Elves that would usually leisurely stroll about were now as near to a sprint as one could be without actually running, and many were coming close to crashing into each other as they hurriedly made their ways to wherever it was they were going. The cause for Rivendell's state was not hard to discover, as one must only risk the possibility of being snapped at by an anxious elf when asking, to find that, "A festival is soon to be held in Rivendell and all must be prepared for the arriving guests. Now stop bothering me and go do something productive!"
The aforementioned guests were elves from both Greenwood and Lothlorien. Some were nobles, invited to attend, while others were merely looking to be entertained, but all were relying on their host to have everything prepared, not to mention perfect. This may have been asking too much of their host however, as he seemed to be having enough trouble trying to keep his identical sons in line without the added responsibility of organizing a festival.
"You did what to the carpet?!" exclaimed a shocked looking lord Elrond.
"Erestor said he wanted it cleaned! How we supposed to know that he only wanted us to shake the dust out of it?" answered one son, throwing his hands up in exasperation. The other was holding up a once beautifully dyed carpet, now dripping wet with all of its colors running together.
Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Well, lay it out to dry somewhere, and we will see if anything can be done to save it later."
His twin sons turned and began to leave, only for another elf to come in. The blonde-haired and blue-eyed ellon looked slightly taken aback at the state of Rivendell's flooring, and turned to Elrond; looking for an explanation. He received a glare and a curt, "Do not ask, Glorfindel!" instead.
Glorfindel wisely did not, and instead said, "I thought to inform you that all proceedings are running smoothly and everything shall be ready for the Greenwood's guests arrival, so long as there are no unforeseen complications."
Elrond visibly relaxed, much to the other elf's amusement.
"There are only twelve more days of this, Elrond, and then all shall go back to as it was," he chuckled.
Elrond simply sighed before changing the topic, "Have any of the Rivendell patrols come across our Greenwood guests?"
"Not yet, my lord, however, I am-," Glorfindel's statement was suddenly cut off by a distant shout of, "What have you done to that carpet?!"
It seemed that Celebrian had discovered Elladan's and Elrohir's erroneous attempt at cleaning.
Meanwhile, not very far from Rivendell, the Greenwood visitors were about to have their first encounter with a Rivendell patrol. Riding in a large group around two very similar elves, they all seemed to be at ease amongst the welcoming golden and red leafed trees of Rivendell.
Or at least until an ear-piercing shriek shattered the tranquil air. The outermost ring of elves responded immediately by tightening their group around the other elves in the center and looking about them with an alertness that would have made any captain proud. Their attention only increased as something or someone came crashing through the bushes towards them.
Red leaves exploded into the air as a small, panicked elfling ran through a thicket and into the path in front of them. Only a stride behind him was a much larger elf who was yelling angrily at the smaller, "-my bow! It used to be my grandfather's and you've desecrated it! Pink! I'll kill you, you little orc!"
The smaller elf let out a wail of dismay, "It wasn't me, Faervel!"
Faervel let out an angry bellow and launched himself at the smaller elf, tackling him to the ground while the Greenwood elves watched on, many gaping in surprise and shock. It wasn't long before more elves were sprinting out of the bushes and onto the path, some laughing so hard that they could barely run in a straight line. The elf at the forefront was not laughing however, and had on a rather severe expression, "Faervel! Get off of Lindir at once!"
Faervel didn't seem to have noticed the order he had just been given, and continued trying to strangle the poor, tiny Lindir, who was putting up quite a fight considering his size. Eventually the elf who had spoken was forced to haul Faervel off Lindir himself. In the meantime, some of the other elves had noticed the Greenwood visitors situated not very far away, and were now staring at them with wide eyes, elbowing the elves nearest them. It wasn't long before both groups were completely silent and watching each other rather awkwardly.
The elf who had separated Lindir and Faerval finally broke the silence, "So, er, you would be from Greenwood, wouldn't you?"
The group of Greenwood elves suddenly split apart to allow one of the elves from the center to ride forth. Tall and stern, with a wreath of intertwined red and gold leaves upon his brow, the elf cut an imposing figure, "Yes, we are from Greenwood, here to attend the festival to which Lord Elrond invited us."
The other elf suddenly went pale. "K-king Thranduil, we are m-most honored to have you attend," he stuttered. "Er, we shall escort you the remaining way to Imladris and send forth riders to tell of your coming."
King Thranduil simply nodded and retreated back into the center of the group. The other elf, who was clearly the captain of the patrol, quickly ordered three warriors to run ahead as the rest formed lines on either side of the Greenwood group. The young elf called Lindir looked quite miserable and placed himself as far away from Faervel as possible. Once everyone was in place, the group set off again.
It wasn't long before it had stopped again, this time on a command from King Thranduil.
"Your warrior is injured," he explained to the captain of the Rivendell patrol and gestured to Lindir, who looked quite mortified at having been pointed out, "He is limping."
Lindir was indeed noticeably favoring one leg, but shook his head vehemently; looking completely horrified at the situation, "I-I'm fine, King Thranduil."
Thranduil raised an eyebrow, "You are slowing down the group."
"I… Er, I...," Lindir stuttered awkwardly, looking desperately at his Captain; clearly hoping for some word of support or interference. After all, what did one do when a King from a different realm started showing concern for you?
The Captain, however, was staring at the ground and muttering incessantly to himself, something about inept new warriors and wishing he had become a chef.
The elfling beside Thranduil, who bore a striking resemblance to the King, suddenly spoke up, "He can ride on my horse for the remainder of the way, Adar."
King Thranduil glanced at his son, "If that is what you wish, Legolas, then I have no objection."
Prince Legolas dismounted and began to make his way towards Lindir, who went pale and tried to protest. His eyes went wide in panic, and all that came out was a high pitched squeak.
Legolas looked amused, "Lindir, is it? Well, come along." He grabbed Lindir's arm and guided him back towards his horse.
Once he had mounted, Lindir desperately tried to look as small as possible, not succeeding in the slightest due to the size of the horse he had been forced upon.
A single hand movement from King Thranduil set the whole group in motion once more, and Legolas grabbed the horse's reins; leading it forward.
"So, Lindir, what exactly did you do to inflict your fellow warrior's anger upon yourself?" Legolas asked curiously, staring up at Lindir.
"Er, would you believe me if I said 'nothing', Prince Legolas?" Lindir answered while desperately trying to find a way to address Legolas without looking down at his superior; something that he soon found was impossible.
"Perhaps. What exactly do you mean?" Legolas answered.
Lindir sighed and a look of despair came across his face, "When Faervel pulled his bow from its case, to shoot a rabbit he had seen, he found that someone had painted it pink. It's my first patrol and for some reason he seemed to think that made it my fault. But I didn't do it! I'm not suicidal! And when my father hears about this," Lindir shuddered, "I'll be on patrols and in training for the rest of the week."
Legolas looked confused, "You don't likepatrolling?"
Lindir shook his head miserably, "No, I'd rather be singing or playing my harp, but my father says…" The ellon suddenly broke off and blushed.
Legolas ignored Lindir's obvious embarrassment, "Who is your father?"
Lindir looked relieved at the change of topic, "Maenor, he is the training master of the warriors."
"Really? Then one would think that…" Legolas broke off with a gasp and Lindir looked around to see that they had just come in sight of Rivendell.
From this vantage point, it was quite a spectacular sight. Waterfalls cascaded from the tops of tall cliffs and disappeared into clear pools framed by golden and red leafed trees. The afternoon sun shone brightly, highlighting the beautiful wooden structure that was the Last Homely House. It had been adorned in red and gold gossamer sashes of fabric that draped above paths and between the peaks of the various slanting roofs.
"Oh, this is your first time visiting Rivendell, isn't it, Prince Legolas?"
Legolas merely nodded, wide-eyed, in answer Lindir's question. "It's beautiful."
Ahead of them, King Thranduil chuckled, "Don't go falling in love with it, Legolas, we still have need of you in Greenwood."
Legolas nodded, but didn't take his eyes off Rivendell. Even when they finally entered the city, the young princeling kept looking this way and that, trying to take in every bit of it. He only stopped once they entered the courtyard at the main entrance of the last homely house; where Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian, and their sons, Elladan and Elrohir, awaited the visitors from Greenwood.
King Thranduil gracefully dismounted and swept forward to greet Lord Elrond. It was only a moment before he gestured for Legolas to join him. Once Legolas left, Lindir dismounted the prince's horse as fast as possible. Thinking that he wouldn't be missed amongst the crowd of chattering visitors and warriors, he began to slip quietly away, only for a hand to shoot out and catch his arm.
"Lindir, we hear from Prince Legolas that you played a prank on Faervel," it was one of Elrond's twin sons, Eru knew which, and the other twin and Legolas were just behind him.
Legolas spoke up, "Actually, I said he was accused of playing a prank on Faervel, not that he actually did, Lord Elladan."
"What?!" the twin looked surprised, "You didn't claim the prank, Lindir? Are you insane? I am sure many a warrior would have come forth to thank you for setting that pompous idiot down a notch. Oh, and by the way, Legolas, I'm Elrohir."
Lindir looked at Elrohir knowingly, "But what if the true originators of the prank wanted to claim their work?"
There was a slight pause then Elladan and Elrohir chuckled, "You know us too well, Lindir."
Behind them Legolas let out a soft snort, "You do realize that he is going to get in trouble from his father for that, don't you, my lords?"
The twins looked at Legolas, shocked, and then back at Lindir, "You won't, will you?" Elladan asked.
Lindir looked at the ground evasively.
"Oh no," gasped Elrohir, "We're so sorry, Lindir. We didn't realize that your father would punish you."
Legolas was staring at the twins, "Why don't you just tell Faervel that you did it? Then he won't be able to blame Lindir."
The twins looked him as if he had just suggested that the sky was green. "Because then we would be in trouble."
Legolas stared at them in disbelief, but Elladan and Elrohir were saved a lecture from the Prince by King Thranduil calling for silence.
Standing slightly elevated on the steps in front of the entrance, Thranduil began his speech, "We are most honored to have been invited to the festival you have offered to host, Lord Elrond, and, in thanks, we have brought you ten barrels of our finest Dorwinion wine."
Ten warriors of Greenwood brought forward the medium sized barrels and Thranduil continued on with his speech. The twins didn't seem to be listening to him any longer, however, and were looking in the completely opposite direction.
"What's wrong with them?' asked one twin.
Legolas and Lindir looked around curiously. "Who?" asked Legolas.
Elladan pointed to a group of elves, at the back of the crowd, who were all incredibly pale, with one even looking as though he was on the verge of fainting. All in the group were staring in horror at the barrels that Thranduil had just bestowed upon Lord Elrond.
"That's Doronor, Lalvon, and Toron, they serve in my father's halls, but I don't know why they look so fearful," answered Legolas.
"Then let's go find out," decided Elrohir.
"But my father's speech – " Legolas began to protest, but a twin grabbed his arm and pulled him along after Lindir and the other twin.
In a moment they stood before the servants, who seemed to be too horrified to notice them.
Legolas yanked his arm out of the twins grasp, "Doronor, Lalvon, Toron, what is wrong?"
They looked down and one let out a gasp while the one, who looked as though he was seconds from being unconscious, whimpered. The last one began trembling at the sight of Legolas, but answered, "M-my prince, w-we may have made a mistake."
Doronor stood with Lalvon and Toron; awaiting their instructions for the day from Galion. As servants to the king, this could consist of anything from waiting on the king's table to cleaning the palace, but, as it turned out, their instructions would be slightly different today.
Galion was busy chatting to the pretty elven maid on his arm when he arrived, so busy indeed, that Doronor had to clear his throat to catch the butler's attention.
"What? Oh, good day Doronor, the king wants ten of the small barrels of red-," suddenly Galion was distracted by whatever the elven maid was saying, "- enchanted water? Really? That must have been-,"
Doronor cleared his throat once more.
"What now, Doronor? I told you: the king wants ten barrels for tomorrow. Bring them here as soon as possible."
Doronor looked bewildered, "But sir, why would the king want-,"
"How am I supposed know? Get to it!"
"But, sir," Doronor began, feeling faintly annoyed.
"What now? We don't have all day!"
"Sir, I don't know-,"
"Then get Lalvon and Toron to help you!"
Lalvon and Toron, who had been looking fairly amused at the exchange between Galion and Doronor up till now, looked horrified.
"But, sir, we-," Lalvon began to protest
"Ai! What is wrong with you three today!? Ten barrels, now!" and with that, Galion took his fair lady's arm and escorted her away, leaving three very confused, and more than a little annoyed servants in his wake.
"Ten barrels of red enchanted water?" Toron sputtered, "The king can't possibly want that!"
Doronor, who looked fairly moody, grumbled, "Well, who are we to go against the king's wishes? We had better get started now, transporting ten barrels to the river and back is going to take an eternity, and then we have to find out how to change the color."
In the end, it was with great difficulty that the three servants managed to get the ten barrels of enchanted water, and, with a little help of the one of the kitchen staff, they dyed the water a deep, rich red.
Only to find out now that it was red Dorwinion wine that the king had wanted.
"So you mean to tell me that my father has given lord Elrond ten barrels of enchanted water from the enchanted river?" Legolas sputtered.
"Yes, my prince," Lalvon admitted mournfully.
"Do you know what will happen if they drink that!" Legolas exclaimed in dismay, "They will fall asleep and lose part of their memory!"
The three servants looked at the ground, ashamed.
Elladan and Elrohir, however, were looking at the barrels with a look of curiosity on their faces and an identical mischievous twinkle in their eyes.
"So, this water will make the drinker fall asleep and lose their memory?" Elrohir asked curiously.
"Actually, you only have to come in contact with it, but that's really not the point. We have to tell my father about this immediately," Legolas decided.
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a quick glance before Elrohir said most sweetly, "But then dear Doronor, Lalvon, and Toron here will be in so much trouble. Surely you don't want them to lose their jobs?"
Legolas now had a look of indecision on his face, "But the barrels-,"
"How about we help you take care of the barrels and your servants can fix their mistake without anyone getting in trouble?" Elladan suggested.
Legolas looked at them suspiciously, "How? And why do you want to help?"
"It's quite simple, Doronor, Lalvon, and Toron will go back and get the real barrels of Dorwinion wine, while we, because we are such good friends, will help you get rid of the barrels of enchanted water."
Suddenly Lindir spoke up, "Since when did you ever want to genuinely help anyone?"
"Lindir!" Elrohir exclaimed, "You wound us! Besides we will not be the only ones assisting Prince Legolas; you're going to help too."
"What?! Why?!" Lindir questioned, bewildered.
"Because, due to our slight… mishap with Faervel's bow, you are going to need a defense to keep your father from banning you from the festival or giving you some sort of other punishment. Helping Lord Elrond's sons and Prince Legolas should be a good enough excuse, don't you think?"
Lindir looked at Elrohir suspiciously, knowing the twins were up to something, but nodded. After all, he really did not want to be stuck inside while the rest of the elves celebrated.
So, it wasn't much later that Doronor, Lalvon, and Toron were heading back to Greenwood armed with a note from Legolas that ordered for ten barrels of Dorwinion wine to be sent back to Rivendell with the servants immediately. If all went well, they should be back sometime in the five days before the festival started. In the meantime, Legolas, the twins, and Lindir had to get rid of the barrels of enchanted water, but there was a slight problem; when the elflings returned to the courtyard, the barrels were gone.
Imladris: the Sindarin (an elvish language) name for Rivendell
Greenwood (or Greenwood the Great): the forest that will later become known as Mirkwood, but, as this doesn't happen until around 1050 in the Third Age (and this story takes place long before then), it will be called Greenwood.
Ellon: Sindarin word for male elf
Ada/Adar: Elvish word for Dad/Father
Eru (also known as Illuvatar): pretty much the equivalent of God in Middle-Earth
Dorwinion: Dorwinion is an area in Middle-Earth and the name literally means "Land of wines." It is known for its high quality wine, and is mentioned in the Hobbit.
The Enchanted River: This is an actual river in Middle-Earth. In the Hobbit, Bombur accidentally falls into this river and, when he wakes up several days later, can't remember the past few months.
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