“Ignorance is bliss,” nodded Orophin.
“Truly, you did prove invaluable at the negotiations.”
Orophin nodded. “Yes, I do believe things flow smoothly when a court jester is present.”
“Will you be coming to the meetings held in Mirkwood this coming autumn?” asked Legolas.
Orophin shook his head adamantly. “Only if I do not have to wear a dress.” Orophin took note of the elf that had soundlessly appeared to the right of Legolas and regarded him with a nod of his head. “Safe journey to you, Lord Thaladir.”
Thaladir tilted his head forward slightly, and Legolas smiled quickly and scooted off to say goodbye to a few others that caught his attention. Thaladir took careful note of the prince’s path, and then approached Orophin, holding his hand out before him. Orophin did likewise, grasping the other elf’s arm as his was. “Your wit is an asset to your wisdom. I appreciate the fact we both serve the same side, Lord Orophin.”
Orophin’s eyes widened. “That was a compliment, wasn’t it?”
Thaladir considered his words. “In a manner of speaking. Yes.”
“Sorry, a moment please. I rarely hear compliments. Well, directed to me, that is. It’s difficult when you’re the brother of the prettiest elf, the most beautiful elleth, and the…well, I don’t know what Haldir is, but he certainly seems to think he’s something special.”
Thaladir looked down at their arms. “Proper decorum dictates we have held this position long enough.”
“Sorry.” Orophin released his hold on the seneschal’s arm.
Considering the young elf for a moment, Thaladir leaned forward a bit and quietly said, “You almost had me.”
Orophin furrowed his brow, trying to understand the meaning of the words.
“When you lifted the hem of your garment. Not proper. But I almost laughed. Almost.”
“Almost?” Orophin looked at the ground sadly for a moment, but then he grinned and looked at the elf from Mirkwood. “I could…show you a little more…I’m still…not wearing any pants…” Orophin coyly lifted the bottom of his robe to reveal little more than his ankle, and then winked at Thaladir. Thaladir let out a short chuckle, and Orophin’s grin widened considerably. As soon as it had begun, it ended, and Thaladir was once again the perfectly poised and stoic elf. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” Orophin danced around in a little triumphant circle, ignoring the robes he was wearing for the moment, his arms raised halfway in the air. Thaladir brushed a few imaginary bits of grass from his pants and tunic as if he didn’t have a grown elf dancing before him in a most peculiar manner.
Legolas ran over, eyes wide in disbelief. “You! You were laughing!” he said, wagging a finger at the seneschal.
Thaladir looked upon Legolas as if the elf had grown wings. “Legolas, ‘tis not polite to point,” he said, using one finger to lower the offending digit of the prince’s hand.
“But you…but you…” Legolas took a deep breath. “But you were smiling! He made you laugh!”
“Nonsense.” Thaladir folded his hands before him. “A bit of indigestion. I shall be happy when we return to Mirkwood, where the drink is something I am more accustomed to and not as rich as the stock here in Lothlorien.”
Legolas planned to pursue the discussion further, but the approach of horses kept him from pressing the matter. Two riders coming from the North were pushing their horses to the limit. One would have thought they were a pair of Galadhrim, come to warn the city of impending danger except for the laughter that could be heard from both of them. Everyone cleared from their path when it was evident neither was going to go around the crowd. One of the riders drew ahead just slightly, breaking free at the last minute.
The elleth gave a whoop of joy as she made it to the Great Mallorn first and knocked her bow against the trunk. “I best you at our race, Captain!” called the musical voice. The elleth was panting slightly, as was the Captain, who slowed his horse, but did not stop it. Both of them steered their mounts around the great tree, laughing and pushing at each other from atop their horses. Celeborn looked upon them both fondly.
“I request another race in the future, when time permits you,” the Captain finally said, marching his mount back to where the delegation was.
The elleth nodded her consent, smiling brightly as she came to a stop next to Celeborn. “I apologize for our tardiness. The orcs were more numerous than we expected. We wanted the path clear for our guests to return home without incident.”
Celeborn nodded, and reached up, grasping hold of the elleth’s hand. “I am sure the guardians appreciated another archer on the border, my love.”
Legolas finally realized who the elleth in the garb of the Galadhrim riding the horse was and rushed over, bowing his head. “Lady Galadriel, I did not recognize – I mean to say, I didn’t –“
Galadriel grinned and waved away the formalities. “Please, Prince Legolas, no need for that.” She handed her bow down to her husband. Her long golden hair was pulled back and tied upon her head, and her face was smudged with grime and blood, but her radiance shone through it all. Dismounting, she made her way through the crowd, saying her farewells to the various elves of Mirkwood.
“I suppose,” said Thaladir to Legolas as they began to ride North out of the city, “one could see the advantage of such a situation as the one the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien have.”
Legolas glanced at the seneschal, slightly confused. “What would that be?”
“Matched height, closely matched in build, similar coloring – they obviously share a wardrobe.”
Laughing lightly, Legolas shook his head. “It is a good thing we are leaving. I believe Orophin is too much of a bad influence for you, Thaladir. I would hate to have you develop a sense of humor and ruin your reputation.”
“Me, your highness? A sense of humor?” Thaladir’s expression was neutral, but his eyes sparkled with pent up mischief. “How absurd.”
“Yes, how,” agreed Legolas as they began the journey home.
In the courtyard, Orophin continued to do his dance. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
“Slow down, you’ll make us all dizzy,” laughed Galadriel, placing a hand upon Orophin’s shoulder. “What are you celebrating?”
“I made him laugh!”
“Which one?” asked Galadriel, surveying the delegation as they rode away.
Orophin pointed toward the head of the riders. “That one! The grumpy, cranky, grouchy one.”
“Thaladir?” Galadriel looked in disbelief first to Orophin and then to Celeborn.
Her husband smiled and nodded. “Ask him how he was able to get the grumpy, cranky, grouchy one to laugh.”
Galadriel raised her brow, but turned her attention back to her son. “How were you able to get the grumpy, cranky, grouchy one to laugh?”
Orophin grinned and lifted the sides of his robes up to his knees. “No pants!” he shouted triumphantly.
The Lord and Lady chuckled as Orophin did another circle dance, but Haldir snorted, quite unamused. “Sure. I shout that, I lose my privileges for a week. He does it, and you fawn over him as if it’s the cutest thing he has ever done.”
“It definitely ranks in the top ten,” admitted Celeborn.
“When you last yelled ‘No Pants!’,” reminded Galadriel, “it was because you literally had no pants, nor anything else, and were running across the field over yonder, chasing butterflies and being chased by Celebrian. Granted, you were naught more than four or five, but we were not about to allow you to grow up thinking it was appropriate.”
Haldir thought for a moment before sighing. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“Haldir.”
“What?” he asked, looking at Orophin warily.
“I never noticed before…”
“No need to now then. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
“Your build…your face…you’d look simply stunning in one of these dresses!”
“No!”
“And you wouldn’t have to wear pants!”
“Not a chance! I like pants. Yes pants!” added Haldir, taking off.
“I have an extra you could borrow! You’d look great in white and gold!” insisted Orophin as he ran to catch up.
“Get away from me!”
“Come back! Fine, I’ll let you wear the blue one!”
“Ai!”
Across the field Haldir ran, chased by Orophin. Their parents looked on happily. Celeborn drew an arm around Galadriel’s shoulder, pulling her closer to him, while she in turn slipped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Hold still, Haldir! This blue one will be just lovely on you!”
“If you’re not wearing any pants, the blue one had better stay on you!”
“Well, alright, you’ve twisted my arm, I’ll let you wear the other one. I think gold is really your color, brother.”
“Gold is NOT my color! Red is my color.”
“Adar! You heard him say it! He wants a red dress, let the seamstress know!”
“That’s not what I said, you…you…orc!”
“Warg!”
“Balrog!”
“Your…uhrm.” Both of the brothers stopped dead in their tracks, looking in horror at their parents, even though the word had not been said. Orophin swallowed, looking with panic at Haldir. Across the field, Celeborn and Galadriel gave each other an odd look.
“Come, Orophin, you don’t want to mess your dress.” Orophin agreed quickly, and the brothers raced away and up the Great Mallorn. Celeborn and Galadriel once again exchanged looks of confusion.
“I think this is a situation where we will be better off not knowing,” decided Celeborn.
“A wise decision,” nodded Galadriel. Her hand wandered further down Celeborn’s back. “Ah…no pants today, my lord?” she asked as her hand felt along his robe for the signs of a waistband or belt beneath the fabric. Celeborn slyly shook his head. “Well, what are we still doing here, then?” With that, the last two elves in the courtyard flew up the stairs of the Great Mallorn.
Below, you will find a wonderful strip that was drawn by Mike Tripp, a talented guy who was sweet enough to let us post it here. Is this not cool or what? It was our first official outside fanart! It also was the start of Nitwits: The Elf Chronicles. Whoopie!
