Summary : What would happen if little Legolas and little Arwen decide to drive a buggy when they obviously don't know how to handle it? Yep. Chaos!

I'm so very, very, very, very sorry. I know I'm late. So sue me. He he he.

All right, guys, I'm back. Yes, I'm still alive and breathing, so worry no more. I was delayed due to several reasons. One, the external auditors came to check the company's accounts. These people are like FBI agents, asking me questions upon questions and cross-examining me as if I were a convicted felon or something. LOL! Secondly, I hit a brick wall while writing this story! Grrr! Like I told my beta, my plot bunnies just up and went to Siberia for a picnic! Thank god they are back and the auditors are now gone! Now I can breathe easier, and my brain can start functioning back to normal.

Now, then. What's with this fic? Yes, it's the chibi-Legolas story like I've promised before this. Elrond's children are co-starring to create a bedlam. Legolas and Arwen's ages are equivalent to human's six and seven years old respectively, while Keldarion and the twins are around sixteen. Yep, they are gonna act pretty stupid in this one. Remember your childhood days when you attempted to drive your father's car but your foot can't even reach the break pedal? Right. I think you got the picture. (My younger brother tried to drive our father's car when he was eight. He hit our neighbor's brand new motorcycle instead. Ouch! Err…no, that was not a pretty scene.)

Before we move on to the story, I would like to thank Seylin aka Dur En Thurin Naur for letting me use her suggestion of that signboard which said 'Older Brothers Are Not Allowed'. Mellon, this fic is especially for you.

Enjoy it, everyone!

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"Older Brothers Are Not Allowed."

The three elves stared at the signboard tacked to the tree, written in an untidy childish scrawl on a thin plank of wood.

"Hmm." Elrohir son of Elrond frowned, rubbing his chin. "Older brothers? As in, us?"

Elladan, his twin, glanced at the tree house perched among the sturdy branches high above their heads. "Yep. I think they definitely mean us. There are no other older brothers around."

With a bark of laughter, Keldarion Thranduilion clapped Elrohir on the shoulder. "Why look so disappointed, Ro? Surely you are not missing those two troublesome elflings already!"

Smiling sheepishly, Elrohir turned to the Mirkwood crown prince. "I don't miss them, exactly. I'm just curious. What are they doing up there?"

"Playing 'king and queen', I suppose," Elladan suggested, cocking one eyebrow.

"Or maybe, they are playing 'husband and wife'," Keldarion supplied with a naughty grin.

Elrohir gurgled with laughter. "Oh, I wished I could see them right now. I want to know how they can bear each other's company without pulling at the other's hair. They are like an old married couple!"

Keldarion and Elladan exchanged meaningful glances, their eyes shining with mischief.

"Let's find out, shall we?" the prince said, smiling broadly. He leaped onto the nearest limb and effortlessly began to scale up the tree trunk. Grinning with anticipation, Elrohir followed his actions.

"Sure. Why not?" Elladan muttered with a shrug, a moment before he also leaped after them.

Keldarion had come about ten feet below the tree house when he sensed rather than saw an object come hurtling straight for his head. In quick reflex, he twisted his body out off harm's way.

The 'missile' hit Elrohir instead.

"Yeowww!" Elrohir gave out a startled cry as the object landed squarely on his face. He frantically brushed away the offending mass of squishy pulp, nearly losing his hold in the process.

"It's a rotten tomato!" As the younger twin screwed his face in disgust, smelly juice running down his chin, Keldarion and Elladan hooted with laughter, almost bent at the waist with hilarity.

More tomatoes fell from above then.

"Aaiiee!" They stopped laughing instantly and leaped hastily about to avoid being hit.

"Take that, you pigs!" Legolas cried out as he hurled another tomato. He smiled in satisfaction as it smacked his elder brother on the back of the head.

"Stay away from our fort!" Arwen was shouting beside him, hurling the last tomato down.

Between them, the two had managed to smuggle six of the rotten fare from the grand kitchen's garbage pan—without the cook's knowledge, of course. And now, they were left with a small sack of potatoes for weapons, freshly picked from the vegetable garden that morning. It had been quite a straining effort dragging the bundle up the tall tree, but witnessing the comical look on their elder brothers' faces right now was extremely worth it.

"Here, take some more!" The small golden-haired prince started throwing the potatoes. He jumped up and down with glee when the three elves below were heard yelling and swearing.

His eyes narrowing to a slit, Keldarion glared up at the tree house in grim determination. Tomato juice was dripping in his long dark hair, and there was a good sized bump on his temple from a flying potato on which the impact almost sent him reeling to the ground.

"My fellow warriors," said the prince to his companions, his head already in the game, "ATTACK!"

With loud battle cries, the three young elves hastily scrambled up the trunk like a pack of wild monkeys. Amid hurtling potatoes, they climbed over into the tree house through the opened window, and descended upon their two hapless victims.

Keldarion and Elrohir each grabbed Legolas' arms and legs, pinning him to the floor. Arwen, meanwhile, was kicking and screaming in Elladan's arms.

"Get off me, you oafs!" Legolas growled as he struggled for release.

Keldarion grinned. "Say that you yield to us."

"I will not!" the little prince shot back, and flung a fist towards his brother's eye. Keldarion quickly jumped out of the way, still grinning.

"Put me down, you… you bully!" Arwen shrieked. She reached up and yanked down Elladan's hair. Hard.

Elladan howled.

"WHAT THE BLAZES IS GOING ON UP THERE!"

Everyone went still when they heard the familiar booming voice coming from below. After a brief silence, Legolas started to cry out, "Father, help! We are being invaded!"

"Legolas?" Thranduil frowned, already climbing up the big tree. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but you have to come up here to stop me from killing Kel!"

The king of Mirkwood paused briefly, his eyes rolling. I should have known.

Thranduil had been having a peaceful and relaxing time by himself in his study, trying to catch up on some reading, when he heard the children's loud screaming coming from the garden. Afraid that the youngest ones had been stung by the bees or met an accident of some kind—which was usually the case when those silly imps were together—the harried father had ran outside to look for them. And found himself face to face with this blasted tree.

Thranduil sighed, pulling himself over a sturdy limb and grabbing another as he climbed upwards. Those five young hellions had given him quite a headache since Elrond's arrival with his entire family two days ago. They were to attend the coming Spring Festival, an event anticipated greatly by the Mirkwood people for the last ten years. There would be a large feast for three days straight, as well as singing and dancing and a fun-fair carnival for the children.

Keldarion and the twins had automatically switched into high gear, exploring every nook and cranny of the realm and getting in the way of the workers that were putting up the tents and platforms, acting like any young untested warriors. Naturally, Legolas would run after them to join the adventure, but the elder boys managed to shake him off their tail. Livid, the little prince had to settle with Arwen, who seemed very determined to stick fast to him!

At first, Legolas had felt quite insulted, left behind to play with a girl. But he gradually began to like his partner-in-crime. Smart and pretty, Arwen always came up with brilliant ideas to torment their elder brothers. She was the one who had suggested the rotten tomatoes and potatoes. And yesterday, they had worked together to put a plate of flour on the doorway of the twins' bedroom—except that the prank had not worked according to their plan. Lord Elrond had suddenly entered the chamber, searching for his wayward daughter.

Well, he did find her, all right. Not to mention the flour.

A smile broke across Thranduil's face as he recalled his friend's appearance minutes after the incident. No, Elrond doesn't look good in white.

Another round of shrieking and yelling broke up above his head, causing Thranduil to quicken his ascent. Swearing at himself for ever falling to Legolas' demands in having a tree house to play fort, he leaped over the windowsill and glared at the occupants.

"STOP THE RACKET RIGHT THIS MINUTE!"

They all stopped.

Wrapped tightly in Elladan's arms, Arwen had her teeth clamped on his brother's left ear. On the floor, sandwiched between Elrohir and Keldarion, Legolas was squeezing the elder prince's throat in one hand, while yanking Elrohir's hair with the other.

"What's the meaning of this?" the king asked, aiming ferocious scowls at his two sons.

Releasing his 'attackers', Legolas leaped to his feet and ran headlong into his father's embrace. "They invaded my fort! I need backup!"

Arwen also struggled out of Elladan's grip. She flung her arms around the king's waist, looking up at him with huge soulful eyes. "Please help us, my lord. These evil miscreants are trying to steal my virtue."

"Err…" Thranduil blinked at this, completely lost for words.

Elladan was biting his lip, trying hard not to laugh, while Elrohir and Keldarion were already choking with mirth. After sending them a glare that sobered them quickly enough, Thranduil turned to Arwen.

"Hop on, my sweet lady," he said, hoisting the daughter of Elrond onto his back. "I'll take you to the grand palace of mine where you can stay and be my queen. These…err…evil miscreants won't hurt you there."

Giggling, Arwen settled comfortably into her piggy-back ride, much to Legolas' jealousy.

"Hey! That's not fair! I want to ride too!" the prince cried out, and began tugging her off his father's back. She resisted. And in no time at all, the two elflings had launched themselves into a noisy scuffle.

"Ai! Ai! Stop that." Elladan and Elrohir helped pulled their sister away from Legolas.

"Well, there goes their blissful 'honeymoon'." Keldarion grinned widely as he held on to the back of his brother's shirt. Legolas was still reaching about for Arwen's throat.

Thranduil threw his arms up into the air. "Valar give me strength."

"Hello? Anybody home?"

They all turned when Elrond suddenly appeared at the window. Looking amused, the lord of Rivendell swung his legs over the windowsill and took in the scenery. Screaming in delight, Arwen leaped into her father's arms.

"Hello, princess." Elrond lovingly stroked his daughter's long dark hair. He cocked an eyebrow at the other father. "Why, Thranduil, a great king like you losing control over mere children like these?"

The great king in question snorted as he picked up his youngest son. "A fine one to speak, you are. As if you did any better yesterday with that flour covering your head."

Arwen and Legolas looked at one another and broke into a fit of giggles, friends once more. Smiling himself, Elrond chucked his giggling daughter under the chin. "Creating troubles again, aren't you?"

"No, we didn't," Legolas quickly replied on Arwen's defense. He glared at their elder brothers. "We were just playing up here, minding our own business, when they came to attack us."

For the first time, the two fathers got a good look at their elder sons' appearance.

"You're all a mess," Thranduil frankly stated, eyeing the three youngsters up and down.

"Aye. And what's that smell?" Elrond wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Is that tomato in your hair?"

Keldarion and the twins exchanged wry glances as they self-consciously brushed the offending remains off their persons. Incredibly pleased of what they had done, Arwen and Legolas pointed at their brothers and started laughing like a pair of loons. Their laughter was so contagious that their respective fathers couldn't help grinning widely in deep amusement.

"All right, you two," said Thranduil, ruffling Legolas' hair. "Enough tormenting them. You need a bath."

Legolas stopped laughing abruptly. His eyes widened in dismay. "Bath? No!"

To Thranduil's surprise, his young son wiggled frantically to get down. "Legolas! What…?"

"No bath! I want to play!" the little prince demanded, dancing out of his father's reach.

Thranduil frowned with displeasure. Without looking away from his headstrong little boy, he calmly ordered, "Help me catch him."

Hearing that, Keldarion and the twins simultaneously charged upon Legolas. The elfling shrieked, unable to escape. He struggled mightily but could not lose himself from their grasp.

"I don't want to bath! I don't want to bath! Let go of me, you brainless buffoons! I don't want to bath! I WANT TO PLAY!" he yelled, kicking his brother in the shin.

Keldarion hissed with a grimace, rubbing at the sore spot—another bump to add to the colorful one on his temple. Now he began to get angry.

"Oh, shut up!" the elder prince snapped with a glare. "Don't be such a pesky baby!"

The minute the words flew out of his mouth, Keldarion wished that he could swallow them back because Legolas looked deeply hurt. Even their father gave him an admonishing stare.

"Kel, that's not nice," said Thranduil as he pulled his youngest son close to him. Legolas had quit struggling and was burying his face into the king's side to hide his shame.

Sighing in regret, Keldarion touched his brother's shoulder. "Sorry, kiddo. You're not a pesky baby. Simply, you're just a brat."

Legolas slowly turned around with a shy smile. "And whose fault is that?"

They all laughed at his quick rejoinder, fully understanding what he meant. Legolas was spoiled almost rotten by his family and the palace staffs, though through no fault of his. He was the youngest manyan ever known, a mystical healer of the realm who could heal all kinds of illnesses and injuries just by the simple touch of his hand.

Naturally, every one who knew Legolas cherished and treasured him greatly. The servants even stumbled over one another to fulfill his wishes at one point, so precious the little prince was to them. And, being an ordinary young boy, more often than not Legolas would take advantage of all the attention he was getting, thinking that he would get his way every time he wished it.

"Got us wrapped tightly around his little finger, he has," Thranduil had complained the day he agreed to build the tree house following a series of endless persuasion and cajoling from his son. "Someone should teach me how to say no to him."

"Come, let's all head back to the palace," the king finally said after they all stopped laughing. "It's close to dinner and, Legolas, you really need a bath. You smell like my old boot."

Legolas' eyes widened as he gasped out loud. "I do not!"

Grinning, Thranduil offered him his back. "Giddy up, boy! No more talking. It's bathing time."

Still grumbling, Legolas took a leap. He wrapped his arms around his father's neck, and his legs around his father's waist—piggy-back style.

"There'd better be some cookies afterwards," he sullenly said.

TBC…