LP: HA, New Story.
Glorfindel: Is it not time to tell them?
LP: Tell them what?
Elrond: The disclaimer.
LP: Whas that?
Elrond: Never mind. I'll do it…
Glorfindel: LP does not own us. She just owns the plot.
Elrond: Hey that was my line.
LP: What some candy?
Glorfindel & Elrond: stare
It was night. The silver moon was high in the dark sky and the crickets were playing their quiet serenade. All was right with the world. Or it would have been had two heavily drunk elves been in their beds dead to the world. But they were not, and thus our tale begins.
It started with perfectly innocent intentions. Both Elrond and Glorfindel had been victims to the High King's whining about his duties all day and both thought that the young king could use some laughter in his life. That day had just happened to be the very day that many warriors had come home after a long absence; so naturally, a feast was thrown in their honor.
Dinner was pleasant enough with plenty of food and entertainment. Wine had flown freely causing nearly every elf in the building to become drunk as well as the sizeable wine cellar of Lindon to almost be completely emptied. It just so happened that two very important advisors had become drunk in the process. These two elves happened to be kind elves that just wanted to help their friend out. Said elves also were said to be quite undisciplined when it came to pranks and fun. One could only wonder what went on in their peculiar minds.
Gil-Galad, the High King and friend of Elrond and Glorfindel, had been watching their wine consumption since Elrond had nearly overturned an entire pitcher of water onto his formal robes. Being the High King, he had to set an example for the other elves by not participating in the ridiculous emptying of his precious wine cellars. At most, he had two glasses; while the other two had so many that he lost count. Weary and slightly disgusted, Gil- Galad excused himself, dismissing the party of merry drunk elves. With a last look at the terrible two, he left the room as fast as possible.
The night found two stumbling elves who went by the names of Glorfindel and Elrond, practically carrying each other out in the direction of the stable. Unexpectedly Glorfindel slurred out with as much dignity as possible, "Ya wanna do something funny to Gil-Gal… Gallay… No… Galey…to Gilly, Eldilly?"
The other who was just as inebriated, garbled out, "Ooo, yama do doofy." Which roughly translated to, "Ooo, you and me do funny."
So they sat down to think, and think, and think, until they both came to the conclusion that they were both to drunk to come up with anything worthy of a prank. It wasn't until Elrond complained of smelling the horse manure did they think of something worthwhile.
With a knowing look in their slightly glazed eyes, they turned and headed to the stable to pick up the equipment they would need to pull of the scheme. Around ten minutes and two tripped over broomsticks later they met in the courtyard and made a beeline for the King's rooms. Between them both, they had one ladder, several lengths of rope, a wooden pole that looked like it had been recently liberated from its job as a chair leg, and a rucksack full of some unknown substance.
Their plan was really quite ingenious. The already sort of knew what they were doing since they had made a crude drawing while in the courtyard, so the work went rather quickly and both exhausted elves made their way back to their beds, eager for the morning to come.
Stretching, the young king of the Noldor happily rose to greet the new day. He had decided as he fell asleep that he would give he court the day off as he was sure most of them were still abed and slightly intoxicated. That brought his thoughts to his two advisors.
'They drank quite a bit. I should have stayed to make sure they made it to their rooms safely and without any delays. Oh well, maybe this will teach them to limit their consumption of the beverage.'
Shrugging off the slight feeling of apprehension, Gil- Galad made his way over to his large bathing pool, ready for a long hot soak.
Elrond was the first to awaken of the two. He immediately had a feeling that he had to be somewhere but, for the life of him, could not remember where he was supposed to be. Completely confused once again, he rolled over and went back to sleep. It was not until latter in the day that he awoke for the second time to a loud whinny from the stables.
'I wonder if there is something wrong. With the way those horses are carrying on I would not be surprised. Why do I feel as though I should be somewhere? It as almost as if I did something, but I don't remember anything except for that evil broom. Wait, why do I remember a broom?'
Eyes wide with understanding, Elrond shot out of bed and hurried to pull on his clothes before taking off down the hall to Glorfindel's chambers.
Annoyed was not the right word to use when Glorfindel was rudely awakened by a bucket of cold water pouring itself onto his head.
'Why must I wake up? I was having such a nice dream too.'
And indeed he was, since dreams about food were always appealing to him. But the little imp that had dared to awaken the balrog slayer was now roughly shaking him, and unable to keep his eyes closed any longer, the elf grudgingly opened his eyes to an agitated Elrond.
"What is it Elrond? I was sleeping."
Rolling his eyes in irritation, Elrond's reply came quickly, "Come on Glor, remember last night, our plan to help Gil- Galad cheer up? He should be coming out soon and I really don't want to miss this."
Blinking Glorfindel slowly digested the younger elf's dialogue before realizing what he was talking about and with a cry of 'Sweet Eru!' the elf flew out of bed and into his closet. Seconds later both elves were on their way to their victims… er, friend's room.
Somehow Gil-Galad had decided that today was a great day. There were no hyper elves jumping around him talking to him about how wonderful the horrible pink robes looked on him and how strange his glass smelt. He would by lying if he said that he did not wonder what had happened to the two tricksters. Not really caring, he assumed that they were still in bed.
What a fool he could be.
Lazily the King reached out and pushed open his door and without a care in the world, he stepped into the hall only to have a sack of wet smelly horse manure to be dropped down upon his newly washed hair.
'This is disgusting,' was his first coherent thought until he heard the muted laughter of two elves he knew quite well.
'I am going to kill them,' was his second coherent thought.
And that was how the High King of the Noldor ended up chasing his two most trusted advisors and close friends through the crowded streets of Lindon covered from head to toe in horse manure.
Okay. Chappie one is done. I will write Chappie two when I think of a good prank. Seeya next time.
Lord Pomeko