Current mood:	accomplished
Current music:	Mama Cass, "Make Your Own Kind of Music".

Chapters 10-13 of "Bared Identities", in which Legolas is clingy and the twins are creepy. NWS
Sporkings of chapters 5-9 of "Bared Identities"

Sporkings of chapters 1-4 of "Bared Identities"

My sporking of the author's previous fic, "Mistaken Identity"

And now, more of the same old crap, hatefully sporked by yours truly.

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 10~

Snip snip. In our last chapter, Thranduil had sex with Legolas to keep Leggy-goo from fading. Tragically, it works and the fic continues.

Thranduil continued to stroke Legolas for a while longer, and then he
sighed and bent down and kissed the boy on the forehead. Reluctantly, he
untangled his son from his arms, and carefully climbed out of bed to get
dressed. Bórsael quickly averted his eyes from his father’s nakedness, his
fists clenching shut at the thought of what his father had had to do in order
to complete the bond. He was still finding it hard to accept, but the other
alternative would have been his brother’s death. Surely this was the better
option? No, not really, since he'd likely just come back anyway after a stint at the Halls of Mandos.

Thranduil put his clothes back on, and then pulled the sheets off Legolas
to dress the boy in a clean, sleeping robe. Bórsael helped to dress his
brother without being asked, both father and eldest son working in silence
that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Thranduil smiled to himself, sure that
given time, Bórsael would come to accept this new relationship between
himself and Legolas.

When they were finished, the king carefully scooped the sleeping prince
into his arms. Legolas stirred slightly and pressed himself closer against
his father’s chest, his right scarred hand clutching at his Ada’s shirt.
Bórsael opened the bedroom door for them, and they left the room.

Snip snip. Maergorv comes in. "Alright" is used when the author means "ALL right", which, as we all know, is not all right.

Maergorv shook his head in disbelief. Only a few hours ago, he had been
preparing himself mentally for the death of his younger brother. Yet now
the blond prince lay sleeping peacefully. It was a dramatic recovery.
Whatever had his father done in order to generate this? SEX. And a contrived plot device. But mostly, SEX.

“How Ada?” he asked curiously, as he followed Bórsael and Thranduil
back towards the king’s quarters. “Legolas must have been close to
entering Mandos’ halls! How did you bring him back?” Damn, this whole FAMILY is a bunch of Captain Obviouses!

Thranduil pursed his lips and avoided his second son’s eye contact. “Let
me put him to bed first,” was all he said, and so Maergorv followed having
no other option. He flashed his elder brother a glance to see if he knew
anything, but Bórsael was even more quiet and distant than usual. He also
avoided looking at his brother. Maergorv frowned, beginning to get the
suspicion that he was about to be told something he wouldn’t like. You're just BEGINNING to get the idea that things are going on that you wouldn't like? Add "remarkably dumb" to this family's shared characteristics, then.

Snip snip.

Maergorv nodded slowly, wondering why his father was stalling for time.
“Ada? How did you save him?” Look, it's called INCEST. Say it with me, very slowly, so you don't miss any letters: "I-N-C-E-S-T". As in, that thing that elves don't do unless they want to be bounced off cliffs into a burnin' ring o' fire for it.

“Maergorv, nin-iond. What do you know of binding?”

Thranduil’s tone was so perfect, that Maergorv at first did not suspect, and
wondered again why his father was changing the topic. He answered the
question, nevertheless.

“Binding? It is when two elves who love each other bind their souls
together, I believe.” This feels like the start of a bad sex ed lecture for five-year-olds. "When two elves wuv each other vewy, vewy much, they tie each other up and wape each other. Only we call it...non-con."

Thranduil nodded. “Yes, but do you know what is involved in the actual
ritual of binding?”

Maergorv frowned, trying to remember. “I… think some vows are
exchanged, as is blood. And then I believe the two elves consummate the
rite by … making love. Ada, what does this have to do–”

“Do you know what benefits an elf receives from binding?”

“Ada. I don’t know where you’re going with this. Could you please just–”

Thranduil pushed on regardless, speaking over the top of his son Wha? That makes no sense--but then, neither does the rest of this woeful waste of information and bandwidth. “If an elf binds to another, then that elf can give their life-force – their strength – to the other. It is a very handy situation if one elf needs support because they are weak, or sick or in some kind of emotional turmoil. It gives him a whopping +3 to his Constitution and Strength scores!”

Snip snip.

“Are you utterly insane?” Maergorv shouted, aghast. Hey, ask the author that, Maergorv.

Legolas stirred and frowned slightly in his sleep at the loud noise.
“Maergorv, keep your voice down!” Thranduil hissed. “Legolas is trying
to sleep and is still in a very delicate condition.”

Maergorv snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised after what you’ve obviously
done to him!’ Hey, I think Maergorv here has read "Mistaken Identity"! Maergorv shook his head again, his arms waving wildly in
his anger. Now I'm imagining this reject Elf extra flailing around like an idiot. “How could you do that? You’re – you’re his *father*!”

Legolas moaned as the shouting started to wake him from his sleep. The
soft light glowing about him was beginning to fade as he crawled towards
consciousness. No, that's just his batteries dying. Shove a couple Energizers up his ass and he'll be ready to go...er, glow. Thranduil turned away from Maergorv and gently squeezed Legolas’ hand and stroked his cheek. “Shhh, Legolas. Go back to sleep, it is alright…” No, it's ALL RIGHT. Oh, who am I kidding... it's really AWWWWWRIGHT!

“Don’t ignore me, Ada!” Maergorv warned. Thranduil flashed him an
annoyed look, angry and upset that Legolas was being disturbed from his
sleep, and also because Maergorv was being stubborn and
unaccommodating. That's right. If you are an adult objecting to the fact that your father just admitted to raping and molesting your underage kid brother...you're not being ACCOMMODATING. Learn to stretch a little, like Legolas's arsehole. Not that he could blame his son’s reaction, but it would still be nice if Maergorv could be a little more considerate at this present moment. Are you horrified and enraged when you find incest and rape in your own family? You're just not being considerate enough. Now here, you intolerant cretin, read this handy NAMBLA pamphlet.

Snip snip. Legolas starts freaking out and losing his Sexual Healing because of all the angwy meenie-head shouting going on. Thranduil admits the horrible truth.

Maergorv’s eyes moved back to his father’s, and there was a very hard
edge to his gaze. “This is *very* wrong. It should not have happened.”

“And what would you have preferred, Maergorv?” Thranduil asked
loudly. “For me to have done nothing and let Legolas die?!”

Maergorv rounded and snarled. “He would have been better off dead!”

OOOOOHHHH.

An awful, sudden silence fell upon the room.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH.

*Quietly snips a paragraph, still in awe.*

Maergorv closed his eyes a moment to compose himself. When he spoke
next, his voice sounded dead. “I do not accept this. The Valar surely do
not condone it either. They *will* punish you.” I wish someone would punish someone else, namely for the creation of this fic. With that, the second heir of Mirkwood turned sharply on his heels and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Snip snip. Legolas's condition takes a turn for the worst.

Thranduil sobbed and beat the headboard of the bed a few times to vent
his anger and frustration. “No!” He screamed, not willing to give up after
having done so much to save his son already. “Wake up! Don’t you die on
me! You cannot die! I want you *alive*! I *need* you alive! You would
*not* be better of dead! Legolas, please, wake up! WAKE, UP!” Can't you feel the eloquence, the emotion, the passion?! Oh, wait, that's just the contents of my stomach stealthily inching their way up my esophagus.
Thranduil was so terrified that his dream was coming true, he half-
expected to hear a booming voice at any moment telling him the Valar had
forbidden this union. Of course, it never did come. Hey, I'll provide the Booming Voice! *grabs bull horn* THIS IS THE VALAR. DROP THE KID AND COME OUT OF THE PALACE WITH YOUR HANDS UP.

Snip snip. Now we get to see the extent of Thranduil's medical knowledge and tender care. *Snips wildly through several paragraphs, excising angsty speeches*

Thranduil shook his son again, wishing there was some way he could
make Legolas understand and believe him.

“Damn you, Legolas!” Thranduil yelled.

Thranduil snarled and shook the fragile form beneath him violently.

Thranduil’s breath caught in his throat as he was suddenly struck by an
idea to save his son. It was a dirty trick, but emotional blackmail may just
be the way to keep Legolas alive.

“Yes, Legolas. If you die, so will I. Whether the bond drags me with you,
or I take a blade to my heart in grief, I will surely follow you into Mandos’
halls to be with you. Do you *want* me dead, Legolas?”

“I love you, Legolas!” Thranduil declared fiercely, and bent down and
kissed the boy deeply and passionately. As their tongues met, he sent as
much of his life-force as he dared via the bond and into his son’s body.

So, there we have it. When your loved one is deathly ill, the way to restore them to health is to yell at them, shake them violently, blackmail them, and jam your tongue in their mouth. Make sure to cut off their airway!

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 11~

[N.B. Please remember that my stories are AU, and I’ve made up the
detailed specifics about binding and fading. Though I’m sure most of you
have gathered that by now! *g*] Yeah, I think we've gathered that you've made a lot of this shit up, Bone-head.

Snip snip. I want to at least get to chapter 13, so I'll be going fast through these.

After a few minutes, Legolas’ thoughts had wandered back to the bond his
father now shared with him.

“Ada?” he asked in a tone which was apparently meant to sound innocent,
though failed miserably.

“Mmmm?” Thranduil was prepared for the worst.

“What are the words I need to say in order to complete the bond?”

Thranduil smirked, realising what his son was trying to do. “I’m not
telling you,” he said.

Legolas sounded affronted. “Why not?”

“Because I said so, and I’m the king, and you’re just the queen.” Oh, stop with the queen jokes before a mob of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals wielding torches and pitchforks descends on you in a screaming fury, Bone Fauna. It's not funny and frankly, it's offensive.

Legolas didn’t think it was amusing, and turned about to face his father,
looking rather agitated. “Ada, don’t joke! I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Because I don’t want you bound to me!” Thranduil replied, exasperated.

Legolas recoiled, clearly hurt. “So- so you *don’t* love me! Or is it that
you think I’m just some immature child who can’t take these things
seriously?” Tears were starting to build in the boy’s eyes, and he pushed
himself off Thranduil’s lap. Legolas wants to be married to his dad, now? Whereas before he was having nightmares, and Thranduil was having nightmares of raping his son? What? This piece of shit doesn't even make sense within the context of its own twisted reality.

Snips a long and sappy speech. Thranduil, being the noble dickhead he is, refuses to let Legolas bond with him. Legolas pouts a little, but is such a cute wittle bubble-head that the bad mood quickly passes after some exchanged "I wuv U"s from both parties.

Legolas smiled and poked out his tongue, which turned out to be a mistake
when Thranduil darted forward and gently caught it between his teeth. CHOMP.
Legolas yelped and then moaned as he was drawn into a deep, passionate
kiss. BARF.They sat there for a moment, Legolas beginning to tremble as his back was lightly stroked, and the tip of his tongue was suckled in his
father’s mouth. NOOOO. Then Thranduil pulled back with a sigh. FINALLY.

“We should get out before they start to worry.”

Legolas nodded, unable to form sentences at the moment. I feel the same way. Only for a different reason. Thranduil helped him out of the tub, and dried them both off, in order for them to meet Bórsael and Maergorv for an apology, and to talk through their feelings together.

Snip snip. Elrond sends a missive. Tragically, this can only lead to more canon-rape.

“He didn’t really say ‘Lord Elrond’, did he?” Bórsael asked, disbelieving. Uh, yeah. Because he's the Lord of Imladris, and doesn't heal people by raping them, shaking them, or screaming at them, which means he's loads better than you.

“It would appear as though he did,” Thranduil said, holding up the letter to
show the insignia of Rivendell on the wax seal. All three brothers looked
at each other, and then scrambled to win the best position behind their
father’s chair in order to read the letter over the king’s shoulder.

The missive was short, but courteous, and was even signed by Lord Elrond
himself. It was an invitation for Lord Thranduil, and any of his family or
retinue, to come to Imladris in the hopes to settle some kind of peace
between their two realms. Not that Mirkwood and Rivendell were at war,
but it was no secret that Elrond and Thranduil were not on the best of
terms either. What? Remind me if this was in the actual books (I have a feeling it wasn't).

“What do you suppose has gotten the old Noldorin so scared that he seeks
out our hand for peace?” Maergorv asked, having read the letter through
twice. Wow, this dumbass fic has contradicted itself in only two paragraphs. Is this an Elven Cold War? Is Elrond using the power of Vilya to spark a (Magic) Missile Crisis?

Snip snip.

Bórsael pursed his lips, and then reluctantly said, “I don’t know whether I
should give you my opinion, now that I’m being confined to my own
home… but I would advise that you accept, Ada. I imagine that a peace
with Imladris will only prove to be beneficial. YOU JUST SAID THEY'RE NOT AT...WHATEVER, I DON'T CARE ANYMORE. However, I am still curious
over Elrond’s intentions. His realm is strong. IT'S A DAMN HOUSE. AS IN "LAST HOMELY"? FOLLOW THAT WITH "HOUSE", AND THAT'S THE EXTENT OF HIS DAMN REALM. I wonder why he is now initiating this? I would make sure you discover his motivations before signing anything.” He wants to rape Legolas. Isn't that why anything ever happens in these fics?

Snips the rest of the chapter.

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 12~

Snip snip. Thranduil and Legolas and some other useless extras go to Rivendell.

“My Lord Thranduil,” Elrond greeted warmly, bowing to the blond
Sindar. “Welcome to my home. I trust your journey was safe?”

“Indeed it was, Lord Elrond. Thank you for your kind words.” Thranduil
bowed also, somewhat amused at how civil the Noldorin lord was being.
Elrond wanted something. Or maybe he's just a nice person. You know, like Tolkien actually described him. Even Movie!Elrond wasn't really a dick if you look at things from his POV. What is up with this fanon making of Elrond into Agent Smith with a tiara and fancy bath-robe?

“Allow me to introduce my sons,” Elrond said, and held out a hand to two
identical dark haired elves standing to either side of him. “This is my
eldest, Elladan, and this Elrohir. Arwen, my daughter, is currently staying
in Lothlorien with her grandmother. Oh, and don’t worry if you can’t tell
the boys apart, they wont be offended. Even I have trouble sometimes.”

Thranduil allowed himself a smile, and politely shook the hands of the
twins. “This is Erestor, my chief advisor,” Elrond continued, placing a
hand on the shoulder of a pretty, yet shrewd looking elf. “And this is
Glorfindel, whom I’m sure needs no further introduction.” Yeah, we saw plenty of him in Prisoner of Imladris. Thranduil shook the hands of both these elves as well, and the king tried hard not to seem impressed that he was meeting the blond Balrog slayer of legend.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all at last,” Thranduil said, allowing his eyes
to drift about the land around him. “Your home is beautiful. Hopefully we
shall be able to work out an accord of some kind over the next few days,
which shall allow elves of both our realms to visit the other, and see the
wonders each land holds.” Whoah, so was Legolas stopped at the border when he tried to get into Rivendell for the Council of Elrond? I'll bet he was detained. "Do you have a green card, Mr. Greenleaf?"

Snip snip

Elrond had seen his scar. Had the half-elf realised it for what it was? We do--a plot contrivance and angst focal point.
For most elves, a normal scar would only take a few days to heal. However, on
their trip to Rivendell, Legolas had mentioned to his father that his scar
was still present. Thranduil had then informed him that binding scars
never faded. They acted as a permanent reminder and symbol for a bound
elf. This worried the prince. Elrond was a skilled healer, and probably
knew all about binding rituals. Legolas took a deep breath and tried to
calm himself down. Even *if* Elrond had recognised his scar as having
been made from a bonding ceremony, the lord had no idea who the other
elf involved in the ceremony had been. Legolas made a mental note to
warn his father to keep his left palm hidden as much as possible, just in
case. So why wouldn't anyone, including Elrond, assume Thranduil's bonding scar was from his union with his wife? Oh, why bother.

Snip snip. Legolas is accosted by the Creepy Twins.

“Well then!” the first brother declared exuberantly, and flung his arm
around Legolas’ shoulders in what the prince considered an invasion of his
personal space. “Elrohir and I shall ensure that we show you all the
delights that our lovely home has to offer.” He squeezed the boy’s
shoulder, and Legolas wasn’t sure if he liked the way the twins were still
looking at him, and then looking at each other and smirking. He suddenly
had a very strong urge to be with his father, preferably wrapped in one of
the king’s possessive embraces. *barfs again* Man, if you were to swallow poison and one of the remedies was puking, just read this fic and everything will come right back up! THIS FIC COULD SAVE LIVES!

Snip snip. Legolas goes to his room.

Looking about, he felt an overwhelming sense of dread flood him. His
rooms were large and lavish, but impossibly empty. Empty of his father’s
presence, his father’s possessions, even his father’s scent. The young
prince didn’t like it one bit. He had grown reliant on his father more so
than ever after they had been bound, and he wasn’t sure he could survive
this trip without his father near. More Wimpy!Legolas, I see. Especially if he would have to be on his guard, with Elrond knowing about his scar, and with the twins who seemed unusually interested in him.

Desperate to see his father, Legolas left his rooms and walked back down
the hall to see him.

After several minutes, Legolas realised that he was lost. He had never felt
more stupid in all his life. Don't worry, Leggy, your stupidity is greatly outweighed by the abject, astounding stupidity of this fic.

“Can I help you, Sir?”

LEGOLAS: "Yes, you can get me out of this damn story!"

Snip snip. Legolas freaks out BECAUSE THRANDUIL IS NOT THERE! WAAAAH! Now he's like a little kid with extreme, pathological separation anxiety. Not a pretty sight.

Legolas shrugged, slightly confused. “Not really. I think they were just
trying to be friendly, but… I didn’t like how close they were to me. I don’t
like anyone else…” he trailed off, blushing slightly.

Thranduil guessed what he was going to say. “You don’t like anyone else
touching you but me?”

Legolas nodded, for some reason feeling ashamed. He knew he loved his
father, and that that love had deepened somewhat from just being father
and son. Yet what he was saying now made it sound like he was *in love*
with his father. Was that true? Was it right to feel such things? YOUR ANSWER, IN ONE WORD: NO!

Snip snip.

Then there was the matter of his *own* feelings towards his son. The real
reason why he did not mind that Legolas had become so attached to him
was because, in truth, he had become very attached to Legolas. He was not
yet sure if it was *true* love, but it was certainly getting close, and he
feared that it might be wrong to love his son in such a way. YOUR ANSWER, IN ONE WORD: YES.

Snip snip. They go to have dinner with Elrond and co. Thranduil accidently reveals his scarred palm (again, why this should be such a huge problem for anyone is beyond me, since Thranduil was married...but excuse me for not remembering that women in these fics are always either useless busybodies or brood-mare breeders with their Icky Vagina Flesh Caves that are totally inferior to the feeling of young male ass).

‘Bared Identities’, by Bone Fauna
~Part 13~

Snip snip. Legolas nearly freaks out...but instead, it's the Balrog-slayer who's the real freak.

Glorfindel gave a small, triumphant smile. “Well, this story takes place in
a room not so far from here, in a time not so long ago – in fact, it was only
last night!” Aw, here I thought it took place long ago in a galaxy far, far away. Damn.

And then, to Elrond’s sheer mounting horror, Glorfindel began to describe
in no uncertain detail the activities of two male elves in a bedroom (of
which he diplomatically left unnamed, and only referred to as either ‘the
blond handsome one’, or ‘the skinny raven one’).

“Of course,” Glorfindel said to his captivated audience, not caring whether
the silence emanated from shock, anticipation, or disgust. “The blond
handsome elf was quite surprised when the skinny raven one pounced on
him. I mean, no one would normally suspect that a mere *advisor* would
have such a suppressed wild streak! Anywho, as the skinny raven one
started to lick his way up –”

“GLORFINDEL!” Elrond exclaimed loudly, cutting the blond off before
he could do any more damage.

There was a moment of awkward silence where Elrond, the twins and
Erestor waited to see what Thranduil’s reaction would be to Glorfindel’s
‘story’.

Legolas couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.

Snip snip

Elrond, still somewhat embarrassed by the Balrog slayer’s cheek, replied
crisply, “No, I most certainly *did not* think your choice of stories to be
very appropriate. You may talk about your bedroom activities when the
time is more suitable… but here at the dinner table you will try and remain
as respectable as that *foul* mind and tongue of yours will allow!” I'm expecting Tolkien to rise up from the ground at any moment and beat Bone Fauna to death with his original Silm manuscripts.

Snip snip. Legolas goes to sleep in his father's bed...with his father.

Legolas sighed and tried again. “I mean ‘Elrond’. When we first met, he
saw the scar on my hand. He didn’t say anything, but I think he suspected
it was a scar caused from a bonding ceremony.” Legolas paused, and when
his father didn’t say anything, continued. “Then tonight, when you pulled
back your chair to sit down, I noticed Elrond’s eyes on your palm.
His…he seemed to… look surprised, or…something… I’m not sure, but
I’m fairly certain he now has his suspicions. I’m afraid…”

“Shhh,” Thranduil soothed, cutting off his son’s fears. “Let Elrond suspect
all he likes. All he knows is that we both have scarred palms. If it ever
comes up, we can say that yours is merely from a recent hunting accident, *sighes* If it's from a hunting accident, THEN IT SHOULD HAVE HEALED ALREADY, AND GONE AWAY. Damn, this author can't even keep her own story straight and coherent! When a sporker has to do that job for you, honestly, you should just thow in the towel and shut down the word processor. You're done. and mine is from binding to your mother. I doubt Elrond knows that I
never actually did that.”

Legolas lay in his father’s arms for a while, thinking. “Why is that, Ada?
Why did you never bind to Nanneth?”

Because she's a woman, and that would impede the almighty slash. Now stop asking dumb questions.

Thranduil sighed and pulled his son tighter against him. “Your mother and
I loved each other very much. I would have died for her if need be, and
she would probably have done the same for me. Our love, however, was
never…passionate. She was more like my best friend. A sister, perhaps. So having sex with her felt like having sex with your sister? This is an interesting family, to say the least. And by "interesting", I mean "disgusting".
We discussed binding when our marriage was being planned, but decided
not to. We both realised that our love was enough as it was without the
need to bind our souls. There was also the possibility that we may have
found *true* love, and so we conceded that, if that ever came to pass, we
would let the other go to find happiness. In the end, it mattered little I
suppose…”

“Because Nanneth died.”

“…Yes.”

How convenient. Oh well, that just means more buttsecks, I guess.

Snip snip. The next morning, Legolas joins the twins at archery.

For a moment, Legolas considered refusing. The hand on his shoulder was
gently moving up and down in a fashion that the prince found rather
uncomfortable, and the twin was looking at him with strange fiery eyes. I smell some more RAPE RAPE RAPE in the future.
Then the boy remembered how his father had suggested he try and make
friends ‘of his own age’, and Legolas conceded.

“Alright. *rips hair out* I’ve never been able to refuse a game of archery.”

Elladan grinned, delighted that his offer had been accepted. He squeezed
the prince’s shoulder approvingly, and then dragged Legolas over to the
group.

“Everyone! I would like you to meet Legolas. He is Thranduil’s youngest
son and our guest. Why don’t we give him a bow and see how the elves in
Mirkwood fair at shooting?!”

The announcement of Legolas’ presence was received with a myriad of
different reactions. Some elves laughed, clearly eager to see if Legolas
was capable of using a bow. Other elves seemed to begrudge the prince’s
presence, while other’s stared at Legolas almost hungrily. Those zombie-elves clearly love their brains...too bad Legolas doesn't have any. The majority,
however, stood back with warm smiles, waiting patiently to see the young
elf shoot.

Legolas thought it was horribly unfair of Elladan to put this burden on
him. Was he, a mere elfling, suppose to represent the quality of archers of
his homeland? That's funny, y'know, because in medieval England, men even younger than Legolas routinely trained every day with the longbow. I think the law was every man over 14 had to do two hours a day (correct me if I'm wrong). So Legolas, being 46, and that being equivalent to a human man of 17, should be well acquainted with bows and arrows and certainly skilled enough to use one effectively. So again this fic makes NO FUCKING SENSE. Sorry to sound like a broken record, but there it is. Legolas tried not to get nervous, reminding himself that
while he might be younger than all these other elves, he was still a prince,
and had loved and trained in archery ever since he was strong enough to
draw a bow. Finally, some logic.

Snip snip.

“Well done!” one of the elves said. “By Elbereth, the prince can shoot
well for someone so young!” The elf walked over and shook Legolas’
hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I certainly hope our two realms can work out
some truce, ‘cause I’d certainly hate to come face to face with the wrong
end of your arrow in some dark part of the woods!” How the hell does that even make sense? Yeah, like some of the last Elven sanctuaries in Middle-earth are going to be fighting with each other when there's the little problem of, oh, I don't know, SAURON THE DARK LORD to worry about? Or does Sauron not exist in this fic?

The other elves laughed, and Legolas was thus accepted into the group.
Elladan and Elrohir seemed to claim the prince as their own, never letting
him far from their side, and often always with a hand on him, showing him
off as ‘their’ Mirkwood elf who could shoot.

Snip snip

“It was nice spending the day with you,” Elrohir said, a strange gleam in
his eye. It's the Stepford Twins! Legolas suddenly felt a bit edgy, left alone with this twin who had
been fairly silent towards him until now. He's actually a Terminator in disguise. “I hope to see you tomorrow.”

Legolas smiled politely. “Perhaps,” he said.

Then Elrohir leant forward, and Legolas froze when he felt a warm mouth
kiss him gently on the cheek. It was a disembodied mouth, too. That'd freak anyone out.

Tune in next time as I stomp on more of this crap. Malganis out.