Magic and Mechs

“Remind me again: why did we decide to go for a drive?”
“Hmm…For the scenery?”
“It’s just a lot of trees. They’ve got those in Nevada too, even if it is mostly desert.”
“Well, then maybe…to get out of the hotel?”
“Nah, the hotel was awesome. Did you see the size of the pool?”
“Not to mention the mini bar. Um…We were bored?”
“Not particularly. Like you said, there was the mini bar. That’s not quite the reason.”
“…Because we enjoy getting lost?”
“Bing-o. In a foreign country, no less.”
“Well, it’s a new experience, eh?”
I didn’t respond. In my opinion, the dark-haired, blue-eyed man in the driver’s seat was entirely too cheerful for the situation we now found ourselves in. He didn’t seem worried at all, even as we drove on, possibly getting farther and farther from where we needed to be. I personally get a little nervous when I have no idea where the hell I am.
Maybe that’s just me.
I guess it could be worse—we could currently be in a country that doesn’t speak English. At least here, we were on foreign turf but capable of communicating. Not that he probably didn’t know almost all the languages there were to know.
I squinted out the window at the hills flying by, nothing but green blurs of landscape. “Your windows are gross, Jazz.”
He cocked his head at me, devilish smile already in place, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Gonna wash me, babe? I’m a dirty boy…”
“Save the innuendo for when we’re un-lost, gutterface.”
“Relax!” he drawled easily, one powerful arm draped over the open window. “I’ll just pick a house an’ we’ll ask them for directions. Piece o’ cake.”
I rolled my eyes and once again pulled out the map we had brought along. It wasn’t much use at this point—aside from being hopelessly crumpled with my folding attempts, it was about twenty years old and thus completely obsolete. As we had discovered once we were good and far away from where the rest of our group was staying.
I was definitely getting the scenic England tour. See me looking on the bright side?
Yeah. Right.
As far as I could tell, we were in Devon. Or we were for a while, anyway. Jazz drives like a maniac and the names were all completely unfamiliar as well. I strained to read a sign that flew by us for any clue as to where we were near—Ottery St. Something-or-other. Not much help.
Finding a house to ask directions at was a little difficult when we were out in the country, apparently miles from a town. Unless there was a squirrel somewhere with Mapquest or a working phone.
Before I could get pissed about the lack of communication capabilities with the others and start off on Jazz again (just what he wanted to hear, I assure you), I caught a glimpse of a steeple rising out of the trees several miles ahead. Cheering up slightly, I was about to point it out—and maybe throw in a jab about how it wouldn’t seem possible for a guy with a super-advanced processor for a brain to get lost in the first place—when Jazz cut a sharp right, nearly sending me sprawling in his lap.
“Whoops,” he smiled, whistling innocently.
“Hey—there’s a village up there!”
“But there’s a house here.”
I looked up in surprise as he slowed to a stop on a dirt road and pulled the map in front of him, mumbling to himself and apparently trying to figure out where we needed to get to. That left me to stare at the building in front of me…although ‘gape’ was probably a better word to describe what I was doing.
It was definitely a house, but it was unlike any dwelling I had ever seen. It was as if someone had taken an ordinary cottage and tacked on about three stories worth of additions that honestly looked like they might fall off at any minute. I had to give the architect props for enthusiasm, however—it looked like the place could house a lot of people. There were about four too many chimneys dotted along the roof and a chicken coop in the yard. A charming little garden, unkempt in a nice kind of way, was next to the house, and I thought I saw something small and grey dart under a rosebush.
A sign out front proclaimed this strange dwelling to be ‘The Burrow’, which tickled in the back of my mind like I had heard it before.
Jazz looked up from the map and blinked at me, seemingly confused at my open-mouthed staring.
“What’s up, Lil?”
I gaped at him, then gestured wildly towards the house. “Do you SEE this place?!”
As if this hadn’t occurred to him, he turned a bright blue gaze to the building in front of us. After a moment of careful scrutiny, he shrugged and went back to his map. “I like it.”
Deflating, I watched as at the house, about fifteen feet away, a girl with red hair poked her head out the front door curiously. Jazz didn’t seem at all disturbed by the house, but I guess I should have seen that coming. He had seen things I could never imagine, traveled to place I could only dream of. He was, after all, an alien. However human the man in the driver’s seat appeared to be, the truth of the matter was that he actually was the silver Pontiac Solstice idling around us. In one form anyway. His true form was a twenty-foot-tall, silver robot from the planet Cybertron.
But that tended to scare away bystanders and attract a lot of unnecessary attention, so he and the rest of his freedom-fighting team had disguised themselves as ordinary (if not a bit flashy) Earth vehicles in order to remain on this planet, hiding in plain sight.
Lucky for us humans—squishy little organics to the massive Cybertronians—the Autobots at the moment outnumbered the Decepticons—the bad guys. The ones who didn’t subscribe to Optimus Prime’s altruistic motto that “freedom is the right of all sentient beings”. The ones who would have no qualms about blowing up this planet and everyone on it, and would probably enjoy doing it.
Scratch that, they’d definitely enjoy doing it.
But as their leader was currently seven miles under the ocean being crushed into the world’s biggest (and ugliest) tin can and their cowardly second in command was high-tailing it across the galaxy to avoid retribution, the Decepticons were…well, laying low.
Which is why the Autobots—as well as Sam, Captain Will Lennox, and I—were currently on a trip across the Atlantic. Lennox was in charge of the human part of the NEST team and Sam had saved the world once at great personal risk (and was also quite inseparable from the yellow Autobot scout), they were brought along. I was only there because Jazz wouldn’t stop bitching at the higher ups until they let me come. It beat the hell out of twiddling my thumbs in Nevada, where I knew no one (being Massachusetts born and bred), and it was a cool chance to see some new places.
Except it wasn’t just sightseeing. At the moment, we were investigating a possible new arrival to the Cybertronian numbers on Earth. Their communications must have been damaged upon entering the atmosphere, and as they would have already disguised themselves, finding them was proving difficult.
Sam had voiced the oh-so crucial question of whether or not this particular mech was friendly, since we couldn’t make any contact with the mech. There was nothing to show for whether it was a part of our faction or a raging psychopath Decepticon. At least until Bumblebee pointed out that as the death rate in England hadn’t skyrocketed and the city was still standing, it was either friendly or evil but also possessing tact.
Still, they needed to be found quickly, especially if they were damaged by the descent.
What I should really have seen coming was the fact that splitting up to cover more ground in our search, while usually a good strategy, would inevitably lead to Jazz and I getting lost. With no communications or navigation (and no good reason for that either—apparently they just ‘fizzled out’ at some point during the drive).
That was just our luck, honestly.
By now, a tall red-haired boy had joined the girl at the front door, staring out at us in confusion. He was followed by a boy with dark hair and glasses. They whispered to each other until a fourth figure elbowed into the door frame: a girl with bushy brown hair. The red-headed girl vanished back into the house, leaving the three onlookers still whispering.
I don’t know why it hit me all of a sudden, but I very quickly realized where I had heard of a house called ‘The Burrow’ before, and why the three kids in the doorway were so familiar. I wondered why it had taken me that long to figure it out, and Jazz wondered why I was suddenly banging my head on his dashboard.
Whack. Whack. Whack.
“Uh, kid? That kinda hurts…Whatcha doin’?”
“Beating some—whack—sense into myself—“
“Do I want to know why?”
I stopped, casting him a disparaging look. “Because there’s NO possible way we’ve fallen into a fictional universe straight out of a storybook series. There must be something wrong with my brain.”
Jazz pursed his lips, staring unblinkingly at me. Then his subtly glowing eyes dimmed for a moment—what I had come to associate with his Internet searching when he was in bipedal form. After a moment, he stirred. “Ah.”
“Ah?! That’s all you have to say?” My voice was bordering on panicked.
“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s happened to me, is what I’m saying.”
I opened my mouth to respond, then it hit me and my jaw closed with an audible click.
Honestly, it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for me either.
The giant aliens from outer space kinda took care of that little milestone.
Finding myself at the Weasley home paled in comparison to watching Sam and Miles battle against Bumblebee and Ironhide—the two Autobots positively towering over them in bipedal form, somehow managing to hold onto the tiny controllers and press the buttons—in Halo 3 on an Xbox that was ALSO a transforming robot—only one that was made on Earth with a recently destroyed cube that possessed all the life-giving (and taking) powers of their race.
Yeah. Maybe this wasn’t so weird after all.
At this point, the entire Weasley family plus two had crowded into the doorway, talking lowly amongst themselves and looking almost…excited?
“Probably their first Muggle visitors,” I muttered, suddenly understanding why any unwitting non-magical person would give their home a wide berth. Having no doubt conducted a thorough Internet search, Jazz knew exactly what ‘Muggle’ meant, and smirked.
“Well, we should go introduce ourselves,” Jazz said brightly. “Looks like we’re stuck here till I figure out how to get back in touch with Optimus. This does explain why my comm. links are all down…”
Something occurred to me. “Yet you could access an Internet that puts this all under the fictional category?”
He shrugged.
Trying to work through the logic of it made my brain hurt, so I just sighed and unbuckled. If I were Prowl, I would have already fried my circuits and be in need of revival from stasis lock.
Now grinning, Jazz opened both our doors and practically hopped out. I wondered how long he could keep that hologram going—it wouldn’t be too fun if he revealed his true form and they freaked. My evasive maneuvering skills left much to be desired, and I wasn’t sure how Cybertronians would be affected by hexes.
But if he kept being so darn cheerful, I might have been willing to find out.
We were halfway to the house when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door, dressed, like their children and guests, in Muggle attire. I noticed the thin piece of wood sitting unassumingly in Mrs. Weasley’s apron pocket, knowing that a hapless arrival wouldn’t make the connection to ‘magic wand’ so readily.
Reaffirming their status as the antithesis of Dursley-style hospitality, the red-haired couple hurried out to meet us, looking positively delighted. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed at a distance, with the rest of the Weasley children watching dubiously from the front stoop. They clearly didn’t trust much in their parents’ abilities to appear normal to Muggles.
“Welcome, welcome!” Mr. Weasley beamed, arms spread wide as if he was about to hug us both. He glanced behind us at the silver car, and I saw a flicker of interest in his eyes. “Ah…car troubles?”
Jazz smiled crookedly, holding up the map and once again demonstrating how perfectly comfortable he was around strangers. “No, map troubles,” he joked. “This one must be broken.”
Five pairs of eyebrows shot up as he spoke. “You’re American?” Mrs. Weasley asked curiously.
I almost laughed, imagining what the true answer would be. But Jazz just smiled and replied charmingly, somehow managing not to lie. “Most recently, yes. I’m Jazz, and this is Lily.”
Something flashed across Harry’s face and I realized with a jolt just how many horrible similarities I had to his deceased mother—the red hair, the name, the green eyes. I was probably not a welcome reminder. I dropped my gaze to the dirt.
“Very nice to meet you both. I’m Arthur Weasley, and this is my wife Molly and our children. Why don’t you two come inside for some tea, and we can figure out how to get you where you need to go.”
Flashing a dazzling 1000-watt smile that made Hermione stop in her tracks and Mrs. Weasley turn slightly pink, Jazz agreed and thanked them.
I swear, as I trooped up to the front door of the Burrow, I heard Hermione mumble something to Molly that sounded suspiciously like ‘male veela’.
Ron led the way into the living room while Molly headed immediately for the kitchen. Arthur was already chatting with Jazz about mechanics of automobiles, while I stared around at the room. It was quite possibly the best living room ever in terms of comfort and a real home-like feel, and I suddenly understood why Harry loved the Burrow so much after living with the Dursleys.
I turned and met the eyes of one of the twins. He grinned, half-shrugging. “It’s not extravagant, but it’s home.”
“I think it’s amazing,” I replied sincerely, feeling like I was quoting a younger Harry.
The twin beamed. “I’m Fred.” I ignored the sick swooping sensation in my gut and just smiled. “And this is George. Or is it the other way around?”
Ron rolled his eyes. “You got it right, congratulations.” He turned to me and Jazz. “I’m Ron.”
Harry, Ginny, and Hermione introduced themselves as well, just as Mrs. Weasley emerged from the kitchen with a tray of tea. “We have three other boys, they’re just looking for a more up-to-date map, dears.” Mrs. Weasley smiled, passing around steaming teacups. “I’ve been meaning to ask…What part of America are you two from?”
“I’m from Massachusetts, but I’ve been in Nevada recently with Jazz and his friends. We actually got separated from them and lost our communication, which is the main reason we’re lost…” I grinned, glancing over at Jazz mischievously. “And you know how it is with men and asking for directions.”
Apparently a common trait with wizards and Muggles, Molly and Hermione both laughed. Jazz stuck out his tongue, then muttered something that made Fred and George laugh.
“Watch yourself, pretty boy,” I bristled jokingly, my hand gripping the tea spoon. “I know where you sleep.”
Jazz just grinned, clearly ready to come back with some R-rated comment. Thankfully, the sound of two pairs of footsteps on the stairs cut him off.
The two oldest Weasley boys burst into the room mid-conversation, the taller one holding a dog-eared but clearly modern map in one hand.

I Love Twins

Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin (Ouran): Who doesn't love a good prankster rich-kid with a tragic past? Bonus - now there's two of them.
Elladan and Elrohir (Tolkien): Twins Elves, AND sons of Elrond? Win.
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe (Transformers): Giant robot twins that turn into Lambos. Enough said.
Fred and George Weasley (Harry Potter): FRED LIVES.

Does Anyone Ever Have a Good Time in Mirkwood?

Chapter One
“Welcome, friends, to Eryn Lasgalen.”
She couldn’t help the wide grin that crept over her face as they approached the palace gates. A tall figure stood awaiting them, his brilliant blonde hair adorned with a crown of small leaves. His form was decked out ornately, in the usual greens and browns of the Woodland Elves. Had it not been for the fact this his arms were opened wide in welcome, he would have looked rather intimidating.
But the travelers that dismounted from their horses before him were no strangers to the stately Elf Lord. One of them, his own hair as golden as the King’s, rushed forward immediately and threw himself into the open arms.
Thranduil laughed merrily, hugging his son close. “My dear little Leaf, it has only been three months. Surely you cannot have missed me that much.” His melodic voice was full of mirth as the blonde archer in his arms muttered a few choice words but still kept hugging. “Have you been pining after me all this time?”
“Only every day,” came a dramatic reply. Thranduil grinned at his new daughter-in-law as she hopped from her horse, followed by two identical, dark-haired, and grinning Elves.
“I feared as much,” Thranduil sighed, beckoning her closer. Legolas made an affronted noise into his father’s robe and stepped back, a mock-scowl adorning his fair features.
“Teasing already. What a fine welcome, indeed!”
His wife laughed, hurrying forward to embrace the King.
“Dear Lily, it is wonderful to see you again.”
She smiled up at him, blue eyes dancing. “You too, Ada.”
The twin sons of Elrond were next, bowing dramatically before the Greenwood King. The mischievous smiles never left their faces, which in itself spelled doom for any hapless residents of the forest. “My King, well met,” they toned simultaneously, sounding far too innocent and making Thranduil wonder what pranks they were already planning.
Rather then let them expound on their mischief-making, he once again beckoned to them. “Come, let us make for the castle so that you might rest before we dine tonight.” And leave my kingdom in one piece at least for a few minutes.
Several light-haired Elves came forward to tend to the horses, Legolas smiling and nodding his head at those he knew. The small group walked together towards the entrance to the palace. More Elves came out—seemingly from the trees, Lily wondered—to watch them go, calling out welcomes to the royal family.
“They’re welcoming you too, you know.”
Lily jumped at the quiet voice next to her ear. “Me?”
Legolas laughed brightly. “Well, you are the princess!”
As if she had forgotten—and perhaps she had indeed—Lily let her jaw drop slightly as she processed this stunning realization. The twins shot each other an amused look over her head.

“…And that hall down there leads to the kitchens.”
Lily bobbed her head to show that she understand, staring around with wide, interested eyes. Legolas smiled. When one was as fascinated as she, giving a tour of the palace wasn’t quite the annoying chore that it used to be.
“This place is fantastic,” she murmured, twining her fingers more closely around that of her husband’s as they walked.
They were soon joined by two figures quite laden with food.
Legolas looked at them incredulously. “Did you…raid the kitchens?”
Elladan assumed an expression of flawless innocence. “Where ever would you get that idea?” He took a grinning bite out of a pastry.
Lily rolled her eyes. “They’re learning from the Hobbits.”
Grinning, Elrohir pressed a messy kiss on her cheek, effectively covering it with sticky frosting. Her eyes went wide and she snatched a fork from his twin’s plate, proceeding to chase Elrohir threateningly down the halls with it. Several Elves sprang out of their path, looking bewildered and then laughing at the sight.
Legolas arched an eyebrow at the dark-haired Elf still peacefully eating his own pastry. “Shouldn’t you be helping him?”
Elladan shrugged. “He’s got to take responsibility for his actions…and learn to never mess with Lily.” He grinned as they disappeared around a corner far ahead. “She’s gotten faster.”
Legolas smiled fondly. “She has.” He paused. “That being said, we should probably help Ro before she does any permanent damage…”

The next three days passed uneventfully, save for a few minor pranks orchestrated by the twins. Thranduil did his best to adopt a stern expression, but everyone knew very well that the mischief of the twins had been missed in the Woodland kingdom.
Having seen all of the palace, Lily had taken to walking outside with Legolas when she wasn’t meeting the seemingly endless stream of Wood Elves who were quite interested in meeting their new princess. It didn’t help that those that did meet her came back with quite remarkable descriptions that incited others to seek her out. The residents of Thranduil’s realm were known for having a strange sense of humor, and greatly appreciated Lily’s oddities.
Which amused her husband to no end, but only reinforced in her mind that she would never understand Elves. Especially Wood Elves.
“Is it true that you bested a Dwarf and full-grown Man at a drinking game?”
Lily went very still, then glared at Legolas, hoping to high heaven that he didn’t tell others about the events of the rest of that evening. The blonde Elf just laughed and the one that asked the question quirked an eyebrow with a smirk.
“It is, then?”
Lily folded her arms and grinned. “I’m just that good.”
The new Elf, who turned out to be an archer in the guard and a childhood friend of Legolas’, looked highly amused. “My dear Prince, you have certainly picked a wonderful one, I must say.”

The gardens were lovely, but there were only so many times you could walk through them. Legolas offered to show them around the forest a bit. Lily brightened and even the twins looked interested. It had been a long while since they had visited, and now that Sauron had been defeated, the forest was being cleansed of the evil that had pervaded it for so long. Especially around the Elven kingdom, the trees were much less dark, the threat of evil dissipating slowly. There was still danger in the woods, but the four of them weren’t planning on going that far from Thranduil’s halls.
“ ‘Planning’ being the key word,” Erestor would mutter. But the dark-haired advisor was hundreds of miles away in Rivendell, and Thranduil seemed to have forgotten the number of times his son had returned from ‘trips’ with the twins either half-dead himself or carrying one of his half-dead companions.
The preparation to leave early that afternoon on a short jaunt around the trees went off without a hitch.
That should have been their first hint.

Chapter Two
“What was that?”
For the sixth time, Elladan disguised a laugh with an unconvincing cough. It seemed that his stories about their previous adventures in Mirkwood had done nothing to ease Lily’s worry about dark things that could be waiting around every tree. In fact, they had made it worse. She was rather jumpy at the moment.
Legolas smiled patiently. “Nothing. Just the wind.” But then he stopped, tensing. There was something other than wind rustling through the forests.
It was a light sound, barely perceptible to his ears, so he had to wonder how Lily had heard it. The whispering sound, like water falling on leaves. Light pattering.
Of many feet.
Elladan and Elrohir had frozen in place, clearly hearing the noise as well as it grew steadily louder. Lily, almost instinctively, knew something was wrong.
“Let me guess? Spiders. Wargs. Orcs. Evil men…All of the above?”
“Spiders,” Legolas muttered, running a hand along his bow. His blue eyes darted about the area to weigh the options.
The trees were out—the huge arachnids could climb those easily. They would never be able to outrun the foul creatures, and they were headed right at them so evading them was out of the question. The only option left was to fight.
Four bows were drawn out almost simultaneously. Legolas nodded in the direction of the shuffling for Lily’s sake, and shifted a bit closer to her in order to keep his wife safe. They waited.
But not for long.
Lily had heard a lot about the infamous Mirkwood spiders. But those descriptions in no way prepared her for the colossal black shapes that burst from the trees and rushed at their small group.
The look on her face must have been pretty darn hilarious, because Elladan laughed loudly as he slew the first spider that attacked him. Shaking off her disgust, Lily pulled out her sword and proceeded to brain a nasty arachnid. The bows weren’t effective any longer since the spiders had come upon them so suddenly.
Had it been a fewer amount of the beasts, they would have been just fine. Legolas was well used to fighting the spiders, and Elladan and Elrohir were a force to be reckoned with. Even Lily found strength in battle in an oddly similar way to how she disposed of the spiders’ much smaller counterparts in her own world. But the numbers were just too many. It was as if all the remaining spiders in the forest had banded together, which was not entirely improbable.
To borrow from Lily’s vernacular…they were screwed.
It seemed like things would be just fine for a while, except for the fact that the spiders kept coming. But then, after gutting a particularly large one, Legolas happened to look up. Something was wrong.
There, perched about ten feet above Lily in a tree, was a spider ready to jump down and take out the human girl.
Time seemed to slow as the Prince realized what was about to happen. Without a second thought, he all but flew to his wife.
Lily had just finished grappling with a rather smelly spider when she was suddenly knocked to the ground. She didn’t have time to form a question before a huge dark shape leapt towards her but was suddenly blocked.
By Legolas.
She watched in horror as the fangs sunk into the Elf’s arm.
Without so much as a flicker of pain crossing his face, Legolas thrust his sword into the spider’s head, killing it in seconds. He pulled the blade out.
Only then did he let himself drop to the forest floor.
“NO!” Lily cried out, picking herself up and rushing to his side.
Elladan saw what happened and paused for a split second. In that tiny moment, he was caught by one of the beasts and slammed against a tree with a resounding crack. Elrohir killed the last spider and then grabbed his brother and eased him down to the ground, his face terrible with worry.
“Legolas,” Lily whispered through her tears. “Why did you do that?”
Pained blue eyes cracked open and he smiled grimly. “What’s another spider bite?” He shifted so that he could prop his back against a tree. “How’s Elladan?”
Lily’s eyes went wide and her head snapped around to face the twins. Elrohir glanced up at her. “He’s got a concussion.”
She nodded, as if this was to be expected. “What is it with us and making even short walks life-threatening?”
With a little effort, the two uninjured managed to get to their feet while supporting the other two. Elrohir was all but carrying Legolas, who was still conscious and coherent but weak from the venom. Elladan came to shortly, and was able to walk with Lily’s help. Aside from some dizziness, he seemed to be fine.
“But if you’re hiding something from us, I will hurt you,” Lily muttered to her adopted brother as they walked slowly. Elladan chuckled but said nothing, seeing how her worried glance was continuously drawn to her husband.
“We need to find somewhere safe to at least patch them up before moving on,” Elrohir mused, his grey eyes scanning the forest.
Unfortunately, there was nothing of the sort in the direction of the palace, and they would never make that walk back until Legolas and Elladan could rest for at least a moment. They were forced to continue deeper into the forest in the hopes of finding somewhere to stop.
What they found was not very agreeable, at least to Legolas.
“Why does it always have to be a cave?” the blonde Elf groaned, flopping his head back. They laughed, but no one missed the pain in his voice.
“Is he going to be alright?” Lily asked softly, only audible to Elladan. The hand she was using to steady his arm over her shoulders was shaking ever so slightly.
He smiled. “He’ll be fine. We have some herbs that are good at neutralizing the venom, and it was a common spider type. I’m sure our dear princeling has been bitten by that particular breed many a time!” He allowed his voice to raise for the last sentence, and Legolas scowled at him over Elrohir’s shoulder.
The scowl turned to a wince when Elrohir stopped abruptly, and pained blue eyes fluttered close. Lily wondered at his frozen position until Elladan’s head snapped up, zeroing in on whatever his twin was looking at. She glanced forward and saw the looming shape of the rock wall and the dark opening of the cave entrance, but couldn’t tell why they were so tense.
Then there was movement, and a low growl.
She could have screamed. In frustration, not fear. Could anything else go wrong within the first few hours of this blasted trip?!
A large shape slinked out of the darkness of the cave, hackles raised and jaws already dripping with spittle. Elrohir was already in a protective stance—which actually looked quite awkward with Legolas in his arms—and Elladan took a wavering step forward to guard Lily from the warg.
The beast growled again, and readied to pounce. With one target barely conscious, the other disoriented, and only two to defend all of them, it should have been an easy kill.
Before either of the twins could react, and arrow rocketed between them from behind, catching the warg right between the eyes with a great amount of force. With a gurgle, it fell to the ground, dead.
Jaws hanging open, the two peredhil turned to see Lily with her bow out and eyes blazing. Not paying any attention to their shock, she led the way towards the cave. “Don’t fuck with me right now,” she growled, kicking the large, furry body as she walked past.
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a surprised look, shrugged, and followed.

“I wonder if the people of Mirkwood know how truly fierce their princess is…”
Lily rolled her eyes at Elladan’s grinning expression. Legolas head was in her lap as she tried to pull the hair off his feverish forehead and monitor his pulse.

Tbc...?

The House of Ithileth

The House of Ithileth
Year 3010 of the Third Age

Celegon
Age: 2496
A skilled craftsmen in the service of Lord Elrond of Imladris, he has lived in the valley his entire life. Son of an Elf who fought in the Battle of the Last Alliance, he was trained in fighting from a very young age. Celegon was instrumental in helping build the haven of Imladris to its present beauty, utilizing his skills of architecture also learned from his father.
His wife Meniel he met while delivering a message to Thranduil’s castle. He fell in love with her but had to return home far too soon. A return trip several months later brought hem more time together, and they were married three years later.
A quick wit, he enjoys a good tale and can often be found conversing with Glorfindel at feasts. He has many friends in the Dwarves that have contact with Elves, fascinated by their craft and metalworking. These skills he passed on to his eldest daughters when they showed interest.
He delights in time spent with family, enjoying the different temperaments of his children. He also often accompanies his wife on her walks about the woods.

Meniel
Age: 2304
A Silvan Elf of Greenwood, she wedded Celegon of Imladris in the year 1710 of the Third Age, and moved with him to Elrond’s realm. Golden-haired and fair, she became close friends with the Lady Celebrían and was most grieved at her sailing.
A very active Elf, Meniel can often be found walking about the paths around Rivendell. She can often be found in the trees with her youngest daughter and Legolas when he is visiting. She is distant kin of Thranduil and is like an aunt to the Prince of Greenwood. A very peaceful Elf, she prefers not to wield a weapon but is trained in archery like many of her people.
She has a profound love of books, and spends much time in the vast library of Imladris, enjoying stories of lore recommended to her by Erestor. The stern advisor has a soft spot for her, recognizing her intelligence and gentle spirit.

Laeriel
Age: 1129
The eldest daughter of the family, Laeriel takes the most after her father with his Noldor blood. She is very protective of her younger sisters, but the three of them are also quite close. A friend of the twin sons of Elrond, she spends a great deal of time in the Last Homely House, learning lore and history from Erestor or healing from Elladan and Elrohir.
Her love is that of song, and she does not go long without it. Oftentimes she can be found with Lindir, learning lays and performing them in the Hall of Fire. Laeriel learned of the arts as well from her father, and her weapon of choice is the bow. When the emissaries from Greenwood include the Prince Legolas, the two of them can often be found in archery competitions with Elladan and Elrohir.
The small amount of Teleri in her blood from her father’s side instilled a love of water in her as well, delighting in swimming and the sounds of rivers and waterfalls. She can remain perched on her balcony for hours, enjoying the sounds of the valley, to the amusement of her sisters.

Cuiniel
Age: 982
The middle child of the family, Cuiniel is the quickest to temper, which is usually attributed to her fiery red hair. A favorite of Glorfindel, she thus earned the nickname ‘My Little Balrog’ for her fierce spirit and strength.
She delights in the care of animals and takes her horse Dae out for near daily rides around the forests of Imladris. Tinueth her younger sister often accompanies her, but by running through the trees rather than riding.
Learned in crafts from her father’s teaching and bestowed with a boundless imagination, Cuiniel is quite skilled in drawing and writing. Her position in the family as neither oldest nor youngest causes her to strive for recognition and be the best she can in everything that she does. Her skill with a sword is great, having been trained by the famous Balrog Slayer himself, and she often accompanies the patrols alongside her father.
Tinueth
Age: 603
The youngest of the family inherited her mother’s golden hair and thus looks the most like her Silvan kin from Greenwood. In more than just appearance is she like that of Meniel—Tinueth has her mother’s cheerful temperament and swift tongue. She can often be found outside early in the morn, walking around the forests or perched in a tree, singing back to the birds. She is more prone to sport than her sisters, excelling at any physical activity she tries, and her energy is limitless.
Legolas is particularly close to Tinueth, reveling in the shared love of trees. Oftentimes during his visits to Imladris, they can be found sitting together among the branches of a tree.


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Car Wash - WIP

“Oh…my…GOD.”
“Where was the mission, guys—the bottom of a swamp?!”
The seven vehicles in front of us remained innocently quiet, as if confused by our blatant shock. I was personally trying to pick up my jaw. How did they managed to get THAT dirty? Sam slapped a hand to his forehead as he circled his once pristine “car”. Bumblebee’s bright yellow paint was hard to find under the mud and leaves covering the Camaro. “Holy shit, Bee.”
Sunstreaker, the only one who had managed to stay clean (big surprise), drove off, leaving the “glitched slag-heads” behind. I watched him go, still a little staggered, and then turned back to the bedraggled group. Optimus, Ironhide, Jazz, Sideswipe, and Prowl were all just as messy as Bee, leaving me seriously wondering what the hell their latest mission had entailed. Hacking through a rainforest?
“It has been rainy lately,” Optimus replied serenely, as if this answered everything. It almost worked on us. But only almost.
“Raining, what, mud? Or did you all just have a dirt fight? You know, fun times.” Sam grumbled, trying to pick leaves out of Bee’s grill and earning several chirps from the (supposedly) yellow Autobot. He looked up at me and we exchanged a knowing glance. I nodded solemnly, coming to the same conclusion.
I faced the group, hands on my hips and a look of grim determination on my face.
“You know what this means…”
Their puzzled and prolonged silence proved that, no, they very much didn’t know what that meant.
I smiled, just a little bit evilly.
“It’s time for a car wash.”

-------

After facing down vicious Decepticons for millennia, you’d think a bunch of super-advanced robots would be less intimidated by a little wash. It was soap and water, not high grade explosives and acid. We were two unarmed and pretty much defenseless teens a tenth of their size. It wouldn’t seem like this would make for a threatening situation. Especially for beings with cannons bigger than both of us put together.
But where Sideswipe, Prowl, and Optimus were hesitant about getting cleaned up, Ironhide was flat-out refusing.
He had backed himself into a corner, still in his alt mode but with a cannon whirring on top of the bed, and was threatening to shoot anyone who came at him. We were pretty sure he was all talk, but Sam and I both didn’t want to be the one to find out.
I had to hand it to Captain Lennox—he had no fear when it came to facing down those gigantic weapons. Which is why he had been recruited from his base duties to help coax the large black tuck to the spot outside the base where we had our buckets and hoses set up. He clearly had a way with words, especially knowing the gruff soldier bot so well. He was having more luck than the rest of us, but the weapons specialist was determined to stay right where he was.
“Come on.”
“No.”
“But, Hide, you’re filthy!”
“No.”
“Sarah will never let you near the house OR Annie looking like that!”
“No.”
“How else are you going to get clean?”
“I’ll just wait for a rainstorm.”
Sam made a great show of checking his phone. “None for the next three weeks. That’s some tough luck, sorry! Now let’s go.”
“That’s preposterous—“
“That’s the desert, man.”
Only when Ratchet finally threatened to disassemble his cannon if he didn’t get his “sorry aft cleaned” did Ironhide finally take his spot (still grumbling) next to Prowl.
Sam and I decided it would go faster if we split up the cars to wash. We were starting with Bee and Jazz, since they were the only two who were…well, excited. Sam had washed Bee before, and Jazz was just perv enough to be thrilled about a good rubdown.
“Oooh, car wash, car wash!”
“Alright, alright!” Sam laughed as an eager Bee bumped him gently with his passenger’s side door, almost sending him sprawling on the pavement.
After Jazz, I had Sides and Optimus to wash, while Sam took Prowl and Ironhide.
“Ah, man!” Sam groaned. “Hide’s not gonna be pleasant!”
“All the more reason you should take him, not me!” I grinned cheekily and ducked a soapy sponge flying at my head.
While the others watched on to see that a little car wash wasn’t going to kill them, Sam and I picked up our hoses and sprayed down the two cars.
“DAMN! That’s COLD, woman!”
“I said, brrr! It’s cold in here—“
“Whiners,” Sam teased, grabbing up a sponge.
I fished around in the giant bucket of soapy water next to me and pulled out a yellow loofah. Sam was already getting to work on scrubbing the muck off Bee, and getting some very happy noises out of the bot. I smirked.
Jazz was practically quivering with excitement as I approached. Then, because I’m a horrible person, I just let the soaped-up sponge plop wetly right in the middle of his hood.
“Bitch,” he whined, trying to shake off the offending discomfort.
“Just kidding, Jazzy,” I laughed, grabbing the loofah back up and starting to scrub.
Any comebacks were completely forgotten as I made my way across the hood and then down to the front grill and headlights. I took extra care getting all the dirt out of the grooves and Jazz groaned so happily my face went pink. I heard laughter and turned to see that Sunny and Ratchet had joined the group of onlookers and were quite clearly amused by Jazz and Bee’s pleasure.
Since he was such a small car, it didn’t take long for me to work down both sides, scrub off the tires, and clear off the windows. Considering the amount of muck on him, that is.
“I swear this was deliberate. I don’t know how else you got this dirty,” I muttered, trying to get a spot off his side mirror. Jazz didn’t say anything. “And next time, I won’t be doing this. You just get a cold shower, McPervy.”
“Awwwww…”
I was finishing up on the tail fin by the time Sam reached Bee’s rear side, to Jazz’s disappointment. I showered him off with warmer water this time, and sent him to dry in the sun with an uncalled-for-but-hilarious pat to his ‘aft’ that made him jump on his shocks. Mumbling about making this a tradition, the silver sports car rolled languidly off. Sides took his place, suddenly eager. “Me next!” he chirped.
I pretended to yawn, twirling the hose in my hands.
“I don’t know, I’m pretty tired…”
“You know, I think some of Ratchet’s evil is wearing off on you, girlie.”
“I know where you recharge, Sideswipe,” came the gruff but amused reply from behind us.
If possible, he was even more vocal than Jazz and Bee. Sam shot me a wide-eyed look from where he was washing the stoic Prowl, clearly wondering what the hell was going on.
That would have been two of us.
It was bordering on bad 70s porn, and Sunny was definitely laughing his ass off.
Sides was just a bit bigger than Jazz, but just as sleek, which made my job easier. Sam and I finished our second cars at about the same time. Even though he was in his car form, Prowl was giving off the distinct impression of a disgruntled wet cat. I had to laugh (quietly).
Then came the real challenges. For Sam, it was dealing with a large angry truck with a cannon that really didn’t want to get washed. For me, it was the thought of washing a semi truck about three times my height. Suddenly feeling a little daunted, I stared up at Optimus, his flame paint job barely visible under a thick layer of mud.
Glancing back over at the group, my lips twitched up into a smile. “Anyone have a ladder?”

-------

“Don’t fall,” Sam warned from his spot in the truck bed, currently working on cleaning off Ironhide’s massive smoke stacks.
“I won’t, I won’t,” I smiled, wiping down the large window in front of me. Bee had transformed and set me up right on Optimus’ hood once I finished all that could be reached at arm’s length, and I was now attempting to stay on the slick metal surface and scrub the truck down. This was all so much easier when I tried to forget that I was soaping down the leader of the Autobots, but it was hard to forget. For one thing, the hood underneath me was vibrating steadily and now and again Optimus would speak—usually to make sure I was being careful.
It was only when I started to clamber up onto the roof of the cab that he almost started to transform. “Lily, that is not a good idea—“
“I’m fine, Optimus. Bee’ll catch me.”
The yellow bot nodded and chirped.
“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down—“
That made me laugh so hard I actually did almost slip, but I managed to hoist myself up and finish the scrub-down. And it was going fine, too, until Jazz—newly dried and back to his old mischief—decided it would be a good idea to yell ‘You missed a spot!’
When I turned to give him an unfriendly gesture and a retort, my foot flew out from under me on the slippery roof, and suddenly the ground was coming up pretty darn fast.
Before I could become a painful heap on the tarmac, a hand darted out and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. My fall stopped with a jolt and my air supply cut off abruptly. Dangling in the grip, stunned but mercilessly unharmed, I blinked rapidly as my brain caught up to what had just happened.
Then, with a glare that would have done Ratchet proud, I turned myself to face a horrified-looking Jazz. “What…the hell.”
I was lowered slowly to the ground just as Sam ran over. “Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine,” I said serenely, smiling my thanks up at Bee. “But Jazz is a dead man.”
The silver bot was the picture of innocence…until I sprayed him directly in the face with a jet of ice cold water.

More Doodles

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Lord of the Ringers

Thranduil and the little Leaf <3

I love twins, as I've already probably established. And now we've got Elladan and Elrohir pulling a Hitachiin. Can life get better?

The Peredhil family <3

Modern Day Evenstar

Defying Gravity - Eowyn

Luthien Tinuviel

"Franduil" meets little "Stel".

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