A/N: I made a HUGE error in the writing of the last chapter, and for sake of continuity, I am going to alter one bit in the timeline of the third age. I know- bad, very bad. That’s what happens when one veers from the well outlined story one had planned. Please don’t hold my head over the fire for too long. Well I wrote that Celebrian had sailed West in the last chapter, but according to my story, Legolas was born in 1373 and he is a wee toddler in these last two chapters. We all know that Celebrian sailed to the West in 2510 T.A. so you see my HUGE mistake. So according to my very AU story, Celebrian sails West a bit before Legolas is born. Take this as a lesson in what not to do in writing fan fiction, plow ahead with a story without double checking *everything*!” Again, my apologies to my readers.

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Chapter 16: Invisible Elflings

“Legolas please come out now,” Laurenor implored. “You are truly a master of stealth, but please come out.” Laurenor was searching frantically for his little brother who had claimed that he was the master of stealth. Laurenor had laughed at his little brother’s claim, challenging him to a game. This challenge, Laurenor quickly found out, was not such a grand idea.

“Please Legolas,” Laurenor beseeched, and added under his breath, “if Ada finds out that I have lost you for even a second he will have my head. Why did I agree to watch over you?” Laurenor quietly searched every room that he thought his little brother would venture into, making sure that no one knew he had *lost* Legolas.

As Laurenor opened the door into Thranduil’s study he found evidence that indeed his nymph of a brother had been or was in the study. Little boots had been thrown carelessly in a corner of the room. As Laurenor further inspected the room he found Legolas’ little belt by the balcony that faced towards the exterior of the cavernous palace, but the little body that accompanied the clothes was no where to be found.

“Legolas,” Laurenor whispered sternly, “you are causing me much trouble, and you need to stop with this silly game at once.” No response, not a single sound except Laurenor’s breathing was heard in the study. Laurenor groaned in realization. He was going to have to announce to the staff that Legolas had disappeared under his watch. As he leaned against the balcony, to briefly breathe in the soothing outside air, he felt his feet brush up against a bundle of material. He looked down and found Legolas’ small tunic, haphazardly strewn on the stone floor.

“What are you up to now” Laurenor groaned. As he looked down the balcony towards the ground outside he saw that many of the flowers from the vines that intertwined the trellis that reached up towards the balcony had been trampled upon.

“Oh no,” Laurenor gasped, “Legolas did not…” and as he looked towards the ground below he saw the remainder of his brother’s clothing laying in a heap. Without a second’s thought Laurenor leapt out of the balcony and landed softly on the ground. Indeed, all of the remainder of little Legolas’ clothes were collected in the messy heap. Laurenor then saw the little tracks of a barefooted elfling leading away from the palace.

“Ai Elbereth, please let him not be too far from here.”

Laurenor quickly followed the child’s tracks, praying that his little brother was first unharmed, and second, that when found, no one else had to know about this little mishap.

***

In the meantime, Legolas was frolicking in his nakedness. Somehow, he had learned that if he wore no clothing he would not be visible to elven eyes. And the first place he thought of escaping too was the stables. Of course his equine friends would be able to see him as they shared in their lack of clothing.

Unbeknownst to Legolas, he was not invisible. On the contrary, his naked little form caught the attention of more adult elves than he would have otherwise garnered if dressed. Faelon, a fine warrior of Rainiel’s age, happened to run into the little elf, and was about to ask the little prince what had happened to his clothes when he heard the little elfling giggle and mutter under his breath, “Felon cannot see me! I am invisbo.”

Faelon had to constrain himself from laughing and opted for playing along with the prince who wore no clothes. “Where are those giggles coming from? Is there some wizardry at work here?”

Faelon’s jesting was received by more giggles, and finally Legolas shouted, “No Felon, you cannot see me, am invisbo!”

Faelon tried hard not to stare in the direction of the little body that was shaking with giggles. “How is that my prince, how have you come by such magic that renders you invisible,” he asked with exaggerated awe in his voice. Faelon also laughed inwardly as he knew that Legolas was undoubtedly under Laurenor’s care and had escaped him. He would enjoy this little game with Legolas, at Laurenor’s expense.

Legolas breathed through giggles, “It is secret!”

“Oh,” Faelon responded, “and where are you headed to now.”

“It is secret!”

“I see,” replied Faelon, “I will let you be on your way then my prince. I am myself heading towards the stables, and Legolas, I am most impressed with your magic.” Faelon knew that the little prince was heading towards the stables but did not want to impede the elfling’s fun, and so he followed the little naked elf from a distance as the latter giggled and ran towards his favorite horses.

Legolas spied his Nana, Ada and sister, along with their guests, and decided he would surprise him with his new found invisibility, and crept silently towards them. Unfortunately, even as an elfling, Legolas had mastered the art of stealth, a technique he learned too well from Rainiel, to his parents’ and now Laurenor’s dismay.

The elves were busily talking and laughing, enjoying the carefree moments they were sharing, which for all of them were too few. It had been only a couple of hundred years that Thranduil had moved his people North to this location of Mirkwood, settling in the cavernous palace, as a result of the Shadow that had invaded the place once known as Greenwood the Great. It was the first visit that Elrond Peredhil had made along with one of his children to Thranduil’s new stronghold.

Legolas was happily watching the crowd of adult elves laugh, whilst concocting his plan of surprise. He stealthily slipped up one of the trees and crept through the branches towards the group. The trees had to mightily stretch their branches to accommodate the small limbs of the elfling, and they did so gladly, as the trees also regarded the little bundle of energy with much love, if such can be said of trees.

Faelon had not lost sight of the little elfling and watched as Legolas crept up in the trees. *What is he up to,* Faelon mused, and settled to watch what was surely going to be an amusing scene.

Suddenly, raining down from the trees above them, a naked little elfling fell from above into Thranduil’s unsuspecting arms, but thanks to quick elven reflexes, the woodland king had caught his unexpected visitor.

“I am invisbo!”

“Invisbo” Thranduil asked, not quite making out what Legolas was apparently saying.

Nyére laughed and reached out towards Legolas, “My dear, where are your clothes, and why by Elbereth did you fall out of the tree?”

“Nana, you see me? I am invisibo.”

“Oh,” Thranduil replied in understanding, “You are supposed to be invisible. Why would you think that my little one?”

Legolas was pouting at this point as it was obvious to him that he was most certainly not invisible. In fact, all the adult elves were looking directly at him, attempting to restrain their bodies from being over taken with laughter, and failing miserably.

“No clothes then I am invisibo,” Legolas announced in a frustrated voice.

Elrond joined in the round of questions, and asked in his most diplomatic Lord of Imladris voice “And where, if I may ask, did you learn that not wearing clothes renders small elflings invisible?”

Legolas, although lacking any type of clothing, was comfortably resting in his Ada’s arms, blissfully unashamed of his nude state, and was skulking instead at his most unfortunate luck.

“Yes, ion nîn , where did you *learn* this,” Nyére gently urged.

“From Larnor,” Legolas answered, and then looking at Arwen, with bright eyes added, “and Arwen!” The accusatory tone in his voice implicated Laurenor and Arwen, for Legolas was now certain he had done something wrong from the way the Lord Elrond and his mother and father were questioning.

Arwen’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson shade. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at the little elfling looking at her with deceivingly innocent eyes. Rainiel attempted to restrain a laugh, and instead snorted most indecorously. Arwen shot a threatening glance towards her friend, and proceeded to look towards the grass she suddenly found interesting at her feet.

“Oh now I am understanding,” Thranduil replied, looking at the perplexed elven lord who was studying his daughter’s guilty stance.

Nyére nodded in understanding, “And where my little one is your brother Laurenor?”

Legolas quickly told the story of how Laurenor had challenged him to a game of stealth and how he had beat his brother by becoming invisible. As he told his story he looked over at Rainiel and smiled widely at her, indicating his pleasure at having learned so well from her. Rainiel suddenly too found the grass at her feet to be most interesting.

Thranduil and Nyére looked at each other, comprehension lighting their eyes, and their faces hardening with the lines of knowing parents. “Laurenor,” they both shouted, and moments later their son appeared before them with head down.

Elrond knew that somehow his daughter was involved in this unraveling story, and that soon enough, all would be revealed.

Thranduil demanded, “How is it that you lost your brother when I personally asked you to look over him.”

“I, I was playing a game with him, and, and he, he-“

“Yes I know that Laurenor. He is but an elfling and you are a warrior, and you lost him,” Thranduil admonished his son.

Laurenor looked at his mother and threw her an imploring look. Nyére simply shrugged and looped her arm through Thranduil’s in a show of solidarity.

Thranduil continued, “We will speak at a more appropriate time concerning this incident Laurenor.”

Laurenor answered, “Yes Adar.”

Elrond found that this was an appropriate moment to question the younger elves, “And how is it that Arwen, my dearest daughter, is involved in this Laurenor?”

Laurenor’s mouth opened but no sound came from it.

Nyére added, “Please answer Lord Elrond son.”

Laurenor looked up at Arwen and Elrond with confusion written across his face, “I do not understand.”

Meanwhile Legolas had his little arms wrapped around his father’s neck and was looking smugly at Laurenor and then glancing innocently at Arwen.

Thranduil spoke up, “Somehow Legolas thinks he is invisible when he is without clothing, and he has said he learned this from you and Arwen.”

It was Laurenor’s turn to turn a deep shade of red as he snuck a glance at Arwen, who looked at him wide eyed.

Elrond interrupted, “I feel that there is something I am missing here. Thranduil would you be so kind to inform me.”

Arwen looked at Thranduil with fear in her eyes, silently imploring the King of Mirkwood not to answer her father’s question.

Thranduil smirked and continued despite the look of horror on the younger elves faces, “You see Elrond, there are *festivities* that wood elves are fond of participating in, that is younger, unmarried wood elves, and these take place in the night under the light of a full moon. ”

Nyére added coyly, “And there are certain games, or dances as they are called, that are engaged in, in which clothing is casually removed, to the delight of all. Why certainly Rainiel and Laurenor know what we are referring to, they are after all not children in the least bit.” At this indictment the two siblings’ faces grew pale. No matter how old they were, their parents managed to make them feel as if they were helpless adolescent elves.

“And add to that much consumption of wine. Somehow the moon and the wine combine to induce a sort of merriment, let us call it, that drives frolicking wood elves into becoming *one* with nature around them,” Thranduil supplemented. “The wood elves have endearingly coined this game becoming invisible.”

“Yes,” Legolas giggled, “invisbo. Larnor and Arwen whispwing about how invisbo togeder.”

“Oh, I see,” Elrond acknowledged. The raised eyebrows on his face were the only indication of the displeasure of the revelation, “And I imagine that my daughter partook of this merriment seeing as there was but a full moon a night ago… No need to respond my daughter, you have been an adult for centuries now and your business is yours. Might I just suggest that you are more *discreet* in your conversations as certain little curious elf ears are prone to be drawn to secretive conversations.”

Arwen answered, “Yes Adar.”

“I think this is sound advice for you as well Laurenor,” Nyére added.

“Yes Naneth, it is sound advice,” Laurenor replied, his voice clearly shaking.

Rainiel had her face turned away from the admonishments, thankful that for once, she was not caught up in the worst of the mischief, and as she looked around her she observed Faelon, standing behind some trees, with a wide smile on his face. He had of course heard the entirety of the conversation, and Rainiel smiled briefly to share in the amusement of the predicament her brother and Arwen found themselves in. And as silently as he stood witnessing the amusing scene, Faelon retreated.

“Laurenor, do not forget to come speak with me this evening,” Thranduil reminded his son. “Take Legolas and have him bathed and clothed.” Thranduil handed over the wriggling Legolas to Laurenor. “Rainiel and Arwen, would you mind assisting Laurenor?”

The elf maidens nodded their heads in agreement and walked quickly away from their parents towards the palace with Laurenor following closely behind. As Legolas adjusted himself in Laurenor’s arms he looked at his brother and whispered into his ear, “I win Larnor!”

Thranduil, Nyére and Elrond watched as their children hurriedly walked towards the palace. As they turned to look at one another, they broke into a chorus of laughter.

Elrond was the first to gather himself enough to speak, “You realize Thranduil that there are many *traditions* that are all too pleasantly held in common between the elven realms, and only the names are different.”

“Oh, indeed,” Nyére added, “when I first met Thranduil, he assumed that elves of Lórien were not privy to the fancies of his wood elves. I had to remind him that I also grew up amongst Silvan elves, and that certain traditions were not wholly Silvan in origin, and even those that were, were whole heartedly accepted by the Sindar and Noldor of the Golden Wood.”

“I am sure Thranduil was not easily convinced,” Elrond quipped.

“I am now being put upon by my own wife and my honored guest,” Thranduil retorted.

Elrond replied, “I cannot help it, Thranduil, the ladies of Lothlórien have a way of enchanting unsuspecting elves with their witchery. You should be well aware of this.”

“Ai, Elrond, your words are full of truth,” Thranduil responded, clasping Elrond’s shoulder in understanding.

Nyére looped her arm through Elrond’s arm, silently acknowledging Elrond’s love for Celebrian. Thranduil gazed at his wife, silently thanking the Valar for allowing him to be blessed with the love of such a selfless and kind being. He did not know how it was possible to fall more in love with his wife as he believed that there could be no greater love, but in such moments he understood that he could never stop falling in love with Nyére. And for this his heart also went out to Elrond, for Thranduil knew that the love that Elrond and Celebrian shared, even from across the sea, was akin the love between him and Nyére.

Nyére excused herself and left the elf lords to each others company. What had at first seemed like an impossible alliance had now blossomed into a deep and caring friendship between the two powerful elves, and Nyére was thankful for that.

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