Author's note: like other people, I often wonder what Legolas was doing when Bilbo was in Mirkwood. This story is meant to be a collection of one-shots, detailing 'encounters' between the two, none remarkable enough for Bilbo to put in his book, but funny nonetheless. It will be updated whenever I feel like it.

Disclaimer: There's no such thing as ghosts . . . or hobbits. Also, the rights to the second do not belong to me. Damn.

Encounters with Ghosts

CREAK.

Legolas jumped. There was definitely no one behind him, but he had heard a sound exactly like the one produced when a person trod on a certain floorboard, situated near the door of the wine cellar. He had learned many years ago to avoid it, especially when sneaking in – as he was doing now – and he was terrified that someone might have heard it. If someone came to investigate, it wouldn't matter that he didn't do it, he'd still be caught.

After standing for many moments listening intently, he went back to his business here. As he turned to one of the barrels of his father's more potent wine, he heard a sharp intake of breath. He jerked his hands back as though they had been reaching for red-hot coals.

But there was no one.

Slightly spooked, he hurriedly grabbed the barrel – which, thankfully, was a relatively small one – and carried it over to the door.

The key was gone.

His mind raced frantically. He roughly shoved his hands into each of his numerous pockets, thinking perhaps that he had not left the key in the lock as he supposed, but his search turned up nothing. Well, a few ingenious Dwarvish inventions known as paperclips, which he thought he'd lost, but no key.

Is this some trick of my father's? He wondered, but he knew that was ridiculous. Elvish magic couldn't make keys disappear, and perceptual magic was tricky to work. To vanish entirely was very impressive, and he didn't understand why anyone like that would be watching the cellar.

Sweat started to break out on his forehead. Something very Weird was going on.

The next footstep he heard made him yelp, before he realised that it was simply someone outside, coming towards him for reasons of their own. He just managed to cover the barrel with his cloak when the door opened, and the butler stuck his head in.

"Legolas! . . . Are you alright?"

"I, uh . . . why?"

"You look like you've seen the spirit of your grandfather. They say he haunts the palace, you know."

The blood drained from the wayward elf's face. "They do? W-why's that?"

"Oh, people have claimed to have heard whispers, sighs, footsteps when they're completely alone. That sort of thing. I guess he was the natural choice, being a dead king and all. What's this about?"

"I, um, nothing. Nothing at all. Just . . . thought I heard a noise in here, that's all. I came to investigate."

"Did you? Hmm . . . I may have heard the same. Was it a curse, as though someone had stubbed their toe?"

"You heard a curse?!"

"You didn't?"

"No! I heard a creak, and a breath, and when I went to leave the keys had gone! There was more?!" Legolas was panting. Alarm appeared on the butler's face.

"Well, that doesn't sound good. I assume you found the room empty?"

"Do you think I would be worried if I had?"

"Have you considered the possibility that you imagined it?"

"Yes I did, and keys don't just vanish! That's exactly –"

The door slammed shut, and there was the unmistakable sound of keys turning in the lock. The two elves stared at each other.

"We never speak of this again," the butler said solemnly, breaking the fearful silence. Rummaging in a small cupboard off the side of the room, he pulled out an axe and proceeded to attack the door with it. The door was no match, and they were soon fleeing the scene, running faster than they might have believed possible. They didn't stop until they were outside under the stars.

"So," the butler gasped. "What is it you were doing in the cellar again?"

Legolas blanched, but recovered quickly. "I'll only tell you if you tell me how come you had an axe in there."

"I can't tell you that."

"And I can't tell you why I was in the cellar."

"It seems we are at an impasse, then."

*

Miles away, a triumphant hobbit tucked the keys to the wine cellar into his pocket, chuckling to himself. It had been a good day.

Author's note: well, a review would leave me forever in your debt and I make sure to review all the work of people who review mine (assuming I know the fandom), but I guess I can't blame anyone who doesn't review. I don't review everything I read, either. But please, feel free . . .