It's going to take a week to print off all 1080 pages (and it could be longer; I have done some editing on both books) of Book II: The Saga of Thranduil. To keep my printer working, I have to print off 10 pages at a time. That’s about 108 times I'll have to print things. I might just get extra print cartridges just in case. I should have known Thranduil was going to be trouble...I mean, just look at him. Someone needs to clean up his room. Just leaves all his things just lying around--fabulously. I wonder if I should follow the producer of Outlander. Hmmm...

That last excerpt was dreadfully romantic—at the end. Meanwhile, Thranduil’s sass makes an appearance a few times.

Thranduil: No.

Legolas: Dad, You know me, I’m not going to break anything.

Thranduil: You broke your bow and wouldn’t shut up for a week.

Legolas: But my bow’s not supposed to break. You know that.

Thranduil: You are not borrowing my swords. Now go cry me a river until you get over it and find something else to annoy me about.

Because State Farm knows for every one of these moments, there is one of these:

Thranduil: No.

Legolas: Dad. You know me. I’m not going to break a thing.

Thranduil: You broke your bow. Would not shut up for a week.

Legolas. But my bow is not supposed to break, you know that.

Thranduil: Legolas, don’t you have be annoying somewhere else right now?

Legolas: Not until five.

The moment when every girl in the world actually wished elves were real.

Gandalf: This is all your fault, Thranduil.

Thranduil: Can I help it if I was born stunningly beautiful, lean and statuesque with exquisite taste in clothing and get to live forever this way?

Gandalf: Immortality is over rated.

Thranduil: Speak for yourself.

Legolas: Dad?

Thranduil: What?

Legolas: What did you do?

Thranduil: Nothing.

Legolas: Dad?

Thranduil: Son, you somehow seem to think that I am some sort of tyrannical yet well coiffed and immaculately dressed ruler of an exiled kingdom of elves that defy the laws of physics and reality and lives for the thrill of scaring the living daylights out of anyone who offends me.

Legolas: You killed 50 orcs in less than a minute over an elk.

Thranduil: Never mess with my ride. That is sacred.

Thranduil: Ask me nicely.

Gandalf: Dare I ask what I am asking for?

Bard: Please don’t. I don’t want to hear this.

Bard: [I give up] Thranduil, will you please do something other than whatever it is you are doing now?

Thranduil: Very well. I need to do one thing first, if I may.

Gandalf: What?

Thranduil: Pimpin’. It’s not easy.

Uhh...

These publishers won’t give me a break...I need to write already...

No, seriously, I do. I’m not kidding.

Fabulously, I need to write. Fabulously.

Aragorn: He’s your Dad.

Legolas: Don’t remind me.

Gimli: He’s got better hair than you do.

Legolas: I know. Don’t remind me.

The net is so slow!!

Dafaq! How am I supposed to post something for three different blogs about one book?

Bard: What do you mean you added another ending to your life story and decided to attend my coronation?

Thranduil: Really, Bard. It was the only way to get you to change clothes. That outfit just screams “fashionably challenged.” I know we live in Middle Earth, but the “earth” part not a fashion accessory.

Legolas: Dad, was I a cute kid?

Thranduil: Yes, of course you were. That’s a strange question.

Legolas: Why is it strange?

Thranduil: Because apparently you have mistaken your father for someone less than exquisite. What did you think you would look like?

Legolas: I don’t know. Some kids go through an awkward stage.

Thranduil: You did. It was called birth.

Legolas: Did you go through an awkward stage?

Thranduil: Ha ha, No. I was born this way. I started at adorable and moved right into the most beautiful creature that ever lived.

Thranduil: Oh, it would appear I just got interesting. This is going to be rather fun, would you agree?

Bard: [Help]

Gandalf: Don’t look at me. I’ve been doing this forever. Like one more time is going to bother me.

Thranduil: I’m bringing Legolas.

Gandalf: Okay, now it bothers me.

Brutal Beauty..

Thranduil: You see what I did there? Sheer perfection.

Legolas: What was perfect? The kill?

Thranduil: Is that all you saw? Open your eyes, Legolas. I never once messed up my hair.

Legolas: You wrinkled your robe.

Thranduil: You just can’t help but see the negative in anything, can you? It isn’t wrinkled. It fell into a cascade of red velvet folds against the now bloodied floor of my majestic throne room beneath the vaulted ceilings of my cavernous halls.

Legolas: Dad, you are weird.

Thranduil: No, son. I’m adorably eccentric. Somewhat brooding. Seductively enchanting. I’ve been described as brutal. Devastatingly gorgeous. Sensuous. The most perfect specimen of elven beauty in all of Middle Earth.

Legolas: Dad, stop it.

Thranduil: What? You can’t handle the truth?

Celeborn: I want to know why you never invite me over to visit Rivendell, Elrond?

Elrond: You are my father-in-law. You know you are always welcome.

Celeborn: Gandalf visits quite often, I understand. He always seems to come to Rivendell. Never to Lothlórien or Mirkwood.

Elrond: I do not know why he will not visit Lothlórien, Celeborn, but we all know of Mirkwood. Such darkness lurks within.

Celeborn: Yes, I know. Thranduil can be rather frightening.

Elrond: I was referring to the curse Sauron put upon his kingdom.

Celeborn: So was I.

Thranduil: Yes, I am so horribly cursed with good looks, perfect hair, fabulous clothes, awesome weapons, fierce elven guards defying the laws of physics and an army of elves in golden armor. I have to settle for riding a majestic elk. How can I go on with the curse of being the Elven King of the Woodland Realm? I mean, my son is a Prince! My poor Legolas has to live with the shame of being the son of a king. Why could he not have had an all powerful tree lord for a father? We are cursed to live within a cavernous mountain palace with endless and elaborately carved halls named after me? You are so lucky. Living in a tree with a walking lightbulb that never seems to get electrocuted playing in a bird bath. I cannot tell you how many nights I wish I could cry myself to sleep wishing I had your life. Not your obvious lack of fashion sense. Just your life.

Oh, nothing...just watching Thranduil walk away..Such a beautiful sight, isn’t it?

Thranduil: That is how you leave a room, son.

Legolas: How do you enter one?

Thranduil: I don’t know. I’m usually already there when everyone arrives to gaze upon my brilliance. I should try that at least once. I’ll put it on my bucket list of things to do before the end of time.

Thranduil: Legolas, what have I told you?

Legolas: What do you mean?

Thranduil: How many times have I told you to put on something other than whatever that is?

Legolas: All the time, but I’m working so I wear this.

Thranduil: Son, you must be the hardest working elf in Arda because you wear the same thing so much, I don’t even know when your day off is anymore.

Legolas: Yesterday was my day off.

Thranduil: And you wore what?

Legolas: I see your point.

Thranduil: Seeing is believing, Legolas. I’d like to see you in something other than earth colors. I believe you have something else in your closet other than whatever that is. We only live in an enchanted forest overrun by orcs and giant spiders. We don’t have to dress like we do.

Tauriel: Pleasant evening, My King.

Thranduil: So it is. What do you want?

Tauriel: Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking...

Thranduil: I do not pay you to think, Tauriel.

Tauriel: You do not pay me at all.

Thranduil: Well then, stop thinking so I do not have to think about paying you to do it.

Tauriel: My King, I wanted to ask you a question.

Thranduil: Go on.

Tauriel: It is about Legolas.

Thranduil: What about him?

Tauriel: Well, he has been acting rather strange lately. I was wondering if you knew why, Your Majesty?

Thranduil: Legolas? Acting strange? I thought for sure you would know.

Tauriel: No, I am afraid not.

Thranduil: He is going through what all young elven men go through at his age. It is natural, trust me.

Tauriel: What is he going through, if I may ask?

Thranduil: Do I have to spell everything out for you people? He wants to get laid. I swear, grow up already.