Little Elf (Prequel to Warrior Elf)

Pairings: Rumil/Orophin
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Humour! Mild Incest, Voyeurism
Summary: Annariel's Little Elf

Characters: (other than Tolkein’s) Annariel, Teril, Amras (both King’s son) and baby.

Little Elf Series Part 2: Little Elf

The Sun shone brightly in the morning sky, bathing the Woods of Mirkwood with its rays, turning everything a light shade of green. It was a beautiful morning, quiet and lovely and it was supposed to be a day where the Wood Elves just sit back on their couches, sipping their finest wine. It was supposed to be just another normal day. But in reality it was not because someone from the palace had gone missing.

They had searched high and low, looking in the most unlikely places for that particular someone. One Elf looked into empty chests, hoping to find clues. Another Elf even suggested looking into the chamber pots and no one really wanted to but they did it anyway. But it was no use. Legolas seemed to have vanished into thin air.

“A nuisance. A pimple on the arse of all Elf race,” someone had called him. And it was not a far off comment. Just last n, wh, when Prince Amras had walked pass a huge vase, he had a shock of his life when he found that something had leapt out from behind the object and attached itself to his leg, its sharp teeth sinking into the hard calf, growling as it did.

At least the Prince had laughed, patting the top of the blond head and had asked Legolas if he was so hungry that he had to chew off his brother’s leg. Legolas had said nothing but growled again in an appallingly unElvish manner. He continued to cling to Amras for more than two hours. The King had been astonished when the Prince had come into his study randranduil had summoned his son in order to discuss some matters concerning the archers of Lothlorien coming to Mirkwood to horn their shooting skills) – Amras had shuffled his way carefully into the room so as to avoid dislodging his new, strange appendage. Adar had been most displeased.

And just a few weeks ago, Legolas had caused a minor uproar when he had decided to climb atop the tallest tree in Mirkwood. He had perched precariously upon a branch, calling out at the top of his young lungs, his voice shrill and delighted, “I see land! I see land!” as he shaded his eyes with his long fingers, peering down into the sea of frantic faces beneath him.

“Come down, Little Elf! Come down!” they had cried but Legolas had laughed out, his fair head thrown back with childlike abandonment; laughing a long, loud, carefree laughter. And when he laughed, no one could stay angry with him, for the very sound served to chase away the gloom from one’s heart.

In fact, his laughter had at one point of time created history in Mirkwood after several decades of uneventful years. Legolas and his other young friends had sat upon a branch of a strange, large, tree, jumping up and down in glee, laughing so loudly that the tree actually fell over in shock.

Of course the commotihat hat followed was expected. But after seeing that none of the Elflings were crushed by the fallen tree (they had only just sprang away in the nick of time), the Elves were given the opportunity to communicate with the old Ent who had apparently stood for so long and was so still in the forests of Mirkwood that he had forgotten that he was an Ent – until he heard Legolas’ laughter in his ear.

All in all however, the event ended without any major mishap and they had parted on good terms. The Ent had ambled off, perhaps in pursuit of a quieter place to stand and pretend that he was a tree once more. Legolas had named him Old Funny Face.

So the search party that had been sent out had had much experience in looking for Legolas. For nine years they had been on their toes, awaiting the unexpected whenever the young Elf left the safety of the palace walls. He would usually be accompanied by many attendants (mostly belonging to his mother) for fear that he would cause more trees to fall down or accidentally drown himself when he tried to see if he could breathe under water like the ‘pretty fish’ in the pool.

But they were careless today, allowing Legolas’ sweet smile and his excited babble to lull them into a false sense of security. Lady Annariel had been very worried, wringing her fair hands as she scoured the woods for signs of her son. The King had, of course, been most displeased.

They had split up and had searched the premises in an organized manner, calling out for Legolas. And despite her worry, Annariel smiled. Her son was always good at hiding and it required much skill and patience to track him down. The Elf may be only nine years of age, but he could keep himself hidden from the full grown Elves for as long as he wanted. Annariel could only hope that Legolas did not choose to stay hidden for the entire day. His father would be even more displeased indeed…

“Whoaahaarrraghh!” screamed a voice from behind her and she pivoted around sharply, her hands flying to her mouth, muffling her cry of surprise. And she found that she was looking at a familiar and yet, unrecognisable face. She then realized why… Legolas was upside down; his knees were hooked over a branch as he dangled head first from it, pulling the most bizarre of faces as he did so.

“Did I frighten you, Nana, huh? Huh? Did I?” he cried out, laughing his beautiful laughter, his hair swaying gently as his body rocked to and fro. Annariel tried not to smile. She feared that she might encourage him to continue putting himself in danger like that. But it was hard because no one could stay angry with her Little Elf. She managed to keep her face solemn, however, which was also hard because the corners of her lips kept twitching.

Legolas dropped nimbly from the tree, twirling neatly in mid-air so that he landed lightly on his feet. He saw the look upon his mother’s face and was immediately ashamed that he had made her worry. He hugged her around her waist as he usually did in a manner of apology. The first time he did that was when he was three years old, for he had accidentally set his brother’s hair on fire.

Teril had forgiven him, albeit reluctantly, when he remembered the frightened Elfling clinging to him, his eyes wide at the spectacular sight of his elder brother’s hair going up in flames. The attendants had been hysterical as they endeavoured to put out the fire with their scarves.

But still, Teril had thought, no one could stay angry when Legolas hugged you like that. After his hair had grown back to its former glory, he found that he could laugh again whenever Legolas teasingly waved a lighted candle before him, calling out “Poof! Hair went poof!” – Although, he had since became more careful to stay far away from the Elfling when he did that.

Thus, Annariel felt that she did not have the heart to put on a stern face for her son. Legolas looked up into her face, his eyes impossibly blue and his fair hair tumbled untidily around his face. He looked very much like his father and many had said that he had gotten his good nature from his mother – although it was uncertain where he got his mad streak from.

“You could have hurt yourself, Legolas,” she said, her expression softening. Legolas knew then that he was being gently chastised because his Nana almost never called him by his given name unless she was reprimanding him. But he smiled when he saw the smile on his mother’s face. He could read her like a book and he knew that she was not angry with him.

“Would that make you sad, Nana?” he asked, hugging her even more tightly.

“Of course it would. You are my Little Elf. If you get hurt, I will be very sad indeed,” she murmured, bending down to press a kiss on top of his tousled head. “Come now. Prince Amras and his wife have just gotten a new Elfling. It is time you meet your new cousin.”

Little Elf clapped his hands with joy. “Can I play with him, Nana?” he cried, prancing around and flapped his arms in excitement.

“Not yet. H too too little,” she answered and Legolas stopped abruptly, becg ung uncharacteristically still.

“Then I am no longer to be called ‘Little Elf’?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with dismay.

Annariel stroked his hair and smiled reassuringly. “You will always be my Little Elf.” And Legolas was calmed, tamed for the moment, because he knew that his mother would never lie.

The new baby was named Iruven, after the King’s first born.

**********

Little Elf was restless and perhaps just a little grumpy. The baby had been ridiculously tiny and wrinkled, almost as wrinkled as Old Funny Face himself. But Adar, Amras and Teril had fawned over it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. Legolas wondered why Adar never kissed him the way he kissed baby Iruven. After all, Legolas knew that he was the most beautiful thing in Mirkwood. He knew this because Nana had told him so and Nana never lied.

His mother had been silent, gently holding Legolas to her as he clung around her waist in apprehension when the ‘thing’ latched itself upon its mother’s breast. It looked hungry and Legolas was afraid that it might jump on him and bite him as how he had bitten Amras yesterday. He had hoped that baby Iruven would not be angry that Legolas had bitten the baby’s father the night before.

But that had been hours ago and Legolas thought that there was only so many times one could be hugged and kissed before one gets tired of the attention. The adults looked very silly, making gurgling noises and even Adar looked silly with the awe-struck expression playing upon his face as he stroked the baby’s brown hair. It was boring and Legolas left the room to escape into the open. Nana let him go. No one stopped him. No one (save Nana) even noticed he was gone.

So now he strolled under the darkening skies, amidst the woods. It would be sometime before he could return to Nana’s room because always, at night, Adar would be there for several hours. Sometimes he would be there until dawn and Legolas would sit outside her room, knees brought to his chest, rocking himself to and fro as he waited patiently for Adar to leave. Sometimes he would fall asleep out there in the hallway and Nana would come out to carry him onto her bed.

He was never allowed inside when Adar was there. Nana told him it was because Adar needed to tell her something. Legolas believed her but was not too sure why it needed to take so long and why when they were in the room, they never seem to talk at all, just make strange, unfamiliar sounds. Nana had suggested that Legolas rest in his own room but he had refused because he always – always – cuddle up to Nana at night while she rocked him to sleep. He had been doing that for nine years. Why should he stop now?

His feet somehow brought him automatically to the bathing pool which was located somewhere near the heart of the forest, far from prying eyes. Legolas liked to sit on top of this one particular tree… just sit there – the thick growth of leaves hiding him from other Elves, looking down at the still blue waters and he would feel happy. He crept up his tree, pretending to be stalking an enemy Elf (Iruven perhaps?), his footsteps light and his ears alert for sounds. He looked up and prepared himself to climb up the trunk but stopped short when he realized that there was already someone in it.

It was another Elf and he had a strangely coloured hair. Not golden like Adar’s or Nana’s and not dark like the other Elves in Mirkwood either. The Elf’s hair was a curious shade of silver and in the moonlight, it shone like the stars. Legolas cocked his head and then crept stealthily up the tree. The Elf did not seem to notice him as his back was turned towards Legolas, his attention focused in the direction of the pool. His hands kept fidgeting and his breathing was harsh.

“Greetings,” Legolas said and the other Elf nearly fell out of the tree in shock as he hastily rearranged the front of his leggings. He turned around then and the fear in his eyes quickly turned to surprise and then annoyance.

“You should not creep up on another Elf like that. It is rude,” he said in a proudce, ce, his arms folding itself across his chest.

“Why?” Legolas said, folding his arms across his chest also, his face mirroring the expression on the Elf’s face.

“Hush! Do not speak too loudly,” he said, his eyes nervously darting towards the pool once more.

“Why?” Legolas asked as he shifted along the branch to sit next to the Elf and the older Elf looked upon him with a mixture of exasperation and annoyance.

“Do not come near. It is best you go back to your home, Little Elf,” he said impatiently. And Legolas was surprised.

“How did you know my name?” he cried, forgetting to lower his voice and giggled when the older Elf looked around in a panicked state. When he saw that no one heard Legolas, he turned back to look back at his face in puzzlement.

“What kind of a name is Little Elf?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed, “It is most uncommon to be named as such.”

It was Legolas’ turn to look exasperated.

“It was a pet name given to me by my mother. My real name is Legolas,” he said stiffly and the silver haired Elf sniggered.

“You are named after a leaf?” he said, chortling as quietly as he could and Legolas scowled at him.

“What name do you go by?” he said grumpily as he tilted his chin towards the older Elf in challenge.

“Haldir. I am from the woods of Lothlorien,” he said, straightening his back importantly. “I came here with my brothers to practise our archery skills.” And Legolas stared at him.

“My Nana was from Lothlorien. She misses her home very much,” he said suddenly and Haldir looked at him in surprise.

“What is your mother’s name?” he asked and Legolas smirked at him.

“I am not telling you. Nosy,” he teased as he bounced once upon the branch causing the leaves to rustle frantically. Haldir looked frightened. Legolas wondered if the older Elf was afraid of heights and he bounced some more.

“Stop! Stop that!” Haldir hissed and he reached out to grab Legolas, wrapping his strong arms around the slender Elf’s body. Legolas wriggled like a fish against Haldir’s warm body, giggling madly, and Haldir clapped a hand over his mouth. “They will hear you!” he whispered in Legolas’ ear, his voice nervous and Legolas stopped, his eyes chancing to look in the direction of the bathing pool. His brows furrowed and he pulled Haldir’s hand away from his mouth.

“What are they doing?” he asked with some surprise as he peered through the leaves shielding them from plain view. In the distance he saw two male Elves engaging in a very queer activity. Haldir turned very pale indeed and reached out to cover Legolas’ eyes.

“You must not look. You are too young,” he said, his hands striving to keep Legolas’ eyes covered as Legolas squirmed away from Haldir. When he escaped Haldir’s clutches, he immediately bent forward to get a better look, ignoring Haldir’s protests. And under the bright moonlight, he could see the two Elves very clearly and their voices were loud and clear in the still night air.

“Rumil… Please… you are killing me,” a voice moaned and Legolas was alarmed.

“He is killing him!” he cried, turning to face Haldir. Haldir just stared at him, looking as if he did not know whether to laugh or cry with vexation.

“Gods… it feels so good!” came the groan.

“It feels… good?” Legolas said, his eyebrows raised and eyes widened in puzzlement. This was interesting. He never knew that people enjoyed being killed. Ah well… as Nana once said… you learn new things everyday.

The two young Elves watched quietly from their perch. Legolas was scandalized. He had never heard anyone making so much noise before. Someone had definitely exaggerated when they said that he was too noisy. Why, those two elves were making enough noise to wake the… the… tr And And all of a sudden Legolas found the situation incredibly funny.

Haldir studied Legolas. The younger Elf had his back turned to him and he was given the opportunity to admire his form. Legolas did not look older than ten but his beauty was enough to take Haldir’s breath away. Little Elf (here Haldir smiled a little at the name) had incredibly soft, blond hair – a hair colour that was not common in Lothlorien and he wondered briefly how it would feel beneath his fingers.

The young Elf had been very strong. Haldir could feel his strength when he had struggled free from his embrace and Haldir knew that Little Elf would grow up to be a very fine male Elf indeed. He looked at the narrow shoulders and frowned a little – they were trembling. His frown deepened when he came to realize that the Elf’s whole body was quivering.

“Legolas?” Haldir asked. Silence. Haldir wondered if it were possible for one as young as Legolas to be affected by what he saw. He did not think it was but still…

“Are you alright?” he ventured and Legolas shook his head violently, his arm now thrown over his mouth. Gently Haldir cupped the Elf’s cheek and turned Legolas’ face towards his. He looked into the angelic face… and his eyes widened in disbelief – Legolas’ face was red (it was quickly turning purple by the minute) and his eyes were filled with tears. He was laughing. Or at least he was laughing, but trying not to, biting down hard on his arm to stop any sound from coming out from his mouth.

“No. Please. Don’t,” Haldir said, shaking his own head. This was bad. Legolas’ body quivered even more… which was worse. Haldir would always remember the moment clearly… and in slow motion. First the arm fell away and a choking sound emitted from the Elf. Haldir was still shaking his head in denial of the inevitable. The blond head fell back as Legolas turned his face upward, facing the heavens. The howl of laughter that erupted from those lips sealed the older Elf’s doom.

Immediately a cry was heard from the direction of the pool. Rumil and Orophin scrambled for their clothes, putting them on with amazing speed. Haldir scooted past the laughing lunatic, parting the leaves to see if his brothers had identified the direction of their hiding place. It would not be hard for them to be found because not only was Legolas still laughing but he was now banging his small fists against the tree. Haldir could have murdered him there and then… if it had not been for the fact that his eyes met Rumil’s narrowed gaze.

“Ah no,” he moaned in dismay as his two brothers charged towards his direction. He sprang to life as he crouched down before Legolas. “Hurry! Hold on to me!” he cried in growing alarm and fervently gave thanks to the Gods when Legolas did just that wit any any questions asked. And he leapt down from the tree, fleeing into the darkness as Legolas clung to him like a monkey on his back.

“Get back here!” growled Rumil.

“I’m going to kill you!” snarled Orophin.

“Haldir! They’re going tol yol you! Isn’t that wonderful? Why don’t you let them? It’ll feel good!” hollered Legolas, shrieking with laughter and delight. Haldir gave an inward groan when he heard his brothers’ outraged cry.

And so the four Elves raced onwards, under the moonlight, through the forest of Mirkwood; Legolas crying with mirth upon Haldir’s back as Haldir sprinted wildly through the trees, and Haldir’s brothers hot on their heels. No one knew exactly if Rumil and Orophin did catch up with the two young elves but one thing was for sure – it marked the beginning of a wonderful friendship between Legolas of Mirkwood and Haldir of Lorien.

to be continued...
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