Chapter Eight

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Thranduil breezed along the corridor, opening the door of his study.

He came to an abrupt stop.

His nostrils flared as he looked around.

His desk, which usually sat towards the far end of the room, was behind the door. The tall bookcase which faced the window now sat covering the glass, shutting out all daylight. All the books had been rearranged, the careful cataloguing of the works lost in a jumble of random placements. The couch which had been behind the door was propped up on one end in the corner, with his chair from behind his desk upside down up on the end of it.

The long voile-like drapes that were supposed to hang on either side of the window had been tied in large, artful bows on the candle-holders mounted on the wall.

He sighed.

Turning to his desk tucked behind the door, his nose twitched. He smelled wine, and frowned as he narrowed his eyes at the inkwell. Closer inspection revealed it held no ink, but a strong red wine instead.

Summoning two guards into the room, he gestured around. "Fix this calamity," he ordered. "And bring me those two menaces."

*****

Tara laughed boisterously and hopped up onto the balustrade, tossing a peach in the air and catching it. "You can run, my friend, but you cannot hide!" she roared, throwing the fruit with force.

Legolas screeched and ducked.

The peach stopped mid-air as it thumped into Thranduil's open hand. He glared at his son, before moving at speed and wrapping one strong arm around Tara's waist, swinging her bodily down from the stone.

Dropping the fruit back into her hand, he stared at her. "Do not get yourself into dangerous situations," he snapped. "One wrong move and you would have fallen to your death. I do not relish the idea of having to scrape your blood and body parts from my walkway." Turning to his son, he glowered. "You should know better than to participate in this nonsense," he told him.

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, and closed it again.

His father sighed. "I can see I shall have to keep you two menaces apart," he said. "I sent my guards to find you hours ago, yet they could not locate you. Where were you? What else have you been destroying?"

"Nothing," Tara answered, hiding a grin. "We went for a walk and spent some time with the horses."

His eyes moved to her. "I have no doubt I shall find the poor beasts with either no tails, or housed in the wrong stables with the pigs," he said dryly.

She merely lifted her eyebrows, biting into the peach.

He turned to Legolas. "I believe you are going to re-join the patrol in the morning," he told him. "Should you not be thinking of checking your equipment?"

Taking the hint and knowing he was getting off easily, he bowed in respect and vacated the room, leaving his father alone with Tara.

He turned to her. "Well?"

"Well what?"

One eyebrow lifted slightly. "Do you have an answer to my challenge? You have had all night to consider it, setting aside the time you spent artfully rearranging my study."

She bit into the peach again, trying not to laugh. "I have given it some consideration," she told him.

"And your conclusion is..?" He stood tall before her, his hands clasped behind his back.

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