Chapter Five: The Great Elf Hunt

  Legolas Greenleaf was not a coward. He had fought in the Ring War alongside Aragorn, had battled spiders in Mirkwood for centuries, and had even had an occasional encounter with trolls in the Trollshaws. Still, one would not have known this from the way he hurried down the hallway in the guest quarters of the Citadel, periodically glancing over his shoulder, and looking much like a frightened rabbit. It was as he was thus occupied that he unwittingly ran into Eowyn. He leapt back with an uncharacteristic squeak, than sighed with relief as he saw that it was she.

     “Lady Eowyn! Oh, fair lady of Ithilien, I beg you to help me,” Legolas said formally, trying to regain the dignity that he felt he’d lost.

     “Legolas? Whatever is the matter?” Eowyn asked. Something had obviously rattled the normally serene Elf, which in her experience was a rare occurrence.

     Legolas glanced back over his shoulder, seemed to hear something, seized Eowyn’s arm, and dragged her after him into a sheltered alcove. Eowyn tensed, wondering what foul enemy was coming that Legolas was so worried about avoiding. Not two moments later, the children, who had announced at luncheon that they were now the Fellowship of the Green Dragon, crept by.

     “He went this way. Come on, he’s probably gone to the library. Legolas does like to read,” Eldarion assured his friends, leading them along the hall. “We’ll catch him, never fear.”

   As soon as they were safely away, Legolas breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall. Eowyn watched him, puzzled.

    “Legolas, why are you hiding from the children?” she asked him curiously. “Surely they can mean you no harm.”

    Legolas raised one eyebrow at her in a manner that would have reminded Eowyn of King Thranduil, had she ever met him. In a few words, he explained the basis of the game to her. The White Lady was biting back unseemly laughter by the time he had finished.

     “They hunt you so that they can claim to have caught an Elf?” Eowyn said.

     Legolas sighed in frustration-didn’t she understand? “It is very difficult for a mortal to catch an Elf if he does not want to be caught. However,” he added quickly, seeing Eowyn open her mouth to ask the inevitable question, “If the mortal in question has certain incredible skills in tracking, it can be very difficult for the Elf.”

    “Legolas, they’re only children,” Eowyn replied. “Not rangers and trackers like Faramir and Aragorn.”

    “Still,” said Legolas. “If they ask, you haven’t seen me.”

   And leaving Eowyn standing at the entrance to the alcove, Legolas strode away in the opposite direction than the children had gone. Eowyn watched him go, perplexed.

      “Males,” she muttered. “Paranoid, all of them.”

*****

    “Ouch! Rowan, move your foot!”

    “That’s Faramir’s foot, Elfwine.”

    “Well, Faramir, move your foot!”

    “I can’t, you’re sitting on my leg.”

     There were three very uncomfortable little lads crouched under a table in the library. Eldarion had posted Elfwine, Faramir, and Rowan there to keep watch for Legolas, should he come in. They had been sitting under the table for close to an hour, and there had been no sign of any Elves. The enjoyment of the hunt was wearing thin quickly.

     At last, Elfwine sighed and rolled out from under the table. “Come on, we’re all princes, aren’t we? We don’t have to stay crouched under a table like orcs in a hole. We can at least sit on the sofa.”

    With that, the young Prince of Rohan strode across the library and sat down on a sofa. Faramir and Rowan looked at each other.

     “Are you a prince?” Rowan whispered.

     “I don’t think so,” replied Faramir. “Are you?”

     “No. But I’m not an orc, either. Let’s sit down with Elfwine.”

     The lads climbed out and went to Elfwine at the sofa. It was definitely more comfortable; they spent several minutes stretching their cramped legs. Then they sat back and continued their lookout in silence. After a while, Faramir, who was beginning to get quite hungry, opened his mouth to ask when teatime was. However, he was never able to ask the question.

     “We’ve got him! We’ve got him!!” three young voices screeched, out in the corridor. The lads leapt up and charged into the hallway, following the sound of the voices. They turned a corner and saw Eldarion, Ella, and Theodwyn leaning into the door of a closet, which was straining as their hunted quarry tried to escape the trap.

     “We caught him!” Eldarion exulted when he saw his friends arrive. His ankle had healed quite rapidly, and he could do a hobbling run. “He saw us coming, and ducked into the closet, and we trapped him!”

      “That’s good. Now what do we do with him?” Elfwine asked.

      They all turned to Ella. The elf child hesitated, than said. “Now we exchange him for any prisoners that his side has taken.”

    The children looked at each other. Other side? Prisoners?

    “Well, maybe we can send Faramir to the Elves as an emissary,” Theodwyn suggested.

    “Good idea,” Eldarion said. “What do you say, Faramir? Faramir?”

     They all looked around in bewilderment for the hobbit, but it was no use. Faramir had disappeared.

*****

    Unbeknownst to the Fellowship of the Green Dragon, the other Elves in the Citadel had taken pity on their prince. As Faramir, Elfwine and Rowan had run down the hallway to join their companions, Elladan, eldest son of Elrond, had grabbed the small hobbit by the collar and picked him up, clapping one hand over his mouth before hurrying away.

     “Faramir, the Elves are taking their tea in the courtyard. Perhaps you would care to join us?” Elladan asked when they were safely away.

     Faramir rather thought that he should be with his friends, but he was very hungry, and he was a growing hobbit, too. “Yes, thank you, Lord Elladan. That would be very nice,” he said, and allowed Elladan to carry him away.

     The Elves were seated on the stone benches in the Courtyard of the White Tree, baskets of food at their feet. They all hailed Elladan and Faramir as they approached, and Elrohir stood and bowed.

    “Master Hobbit,” he said with a smile. “Do you like roasted chicken?”

    The Elves quite shamelessly stuffed Faramir as full of food as they could. The hobbit lad enjoyed it very much, and he enjoyed their songs, too. The Rivendell Elves sung a song about their valley, and the Elves from Mirkwood sang their infamous barrel song. Faramir, feeling that he had to give something back, sang them the jewel song* that he had learned in Rohan, and several Shire songs. These were all met by cheers and laughter, and Faramir felt greatly lauded. By the time the meal had ended, he was feeling quite comfortable with the Elves.

     “Faramir,” said Elladan, as they cleaned up. “I regret to inform you that you are our prisoner now. Just until we get Legolas back from your companions. Don’t worry, you will be treated very well. What say you?”

     Faramir regarded the Elf lord solemnly, then stood up and extended his wrists. “I’d rather be the prisoner of a gentlelf than a free hobbit in a world gone mad!” he declared.

     The Elves smiled at each other. The game was afoot.

TBC

*The Jewels song can be found in my story, “For the Love of Hobbits”.