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"Oh—careful there, my prince," Elladan said, hand sweeping out as Legolas stepped over a root on the hunting trail through the woods of Imladris. "Wouldn't want the mud to touch royal boots."
Elrohir, of course, never missed his cue. "Do you require a herald?" he asked earnestly. "I can shout your titles ahead of you. Legolas Thranduilion, Son of the Woodland King, He of Immaculate Braids—"
"I do not have immaculate braids," Legolas snapped, and then immediately regretted engaging.
The twins were effusive in their mocking praise and elaborate in their ever increasing declarations of loyalty. And love. And offers of self-sacrifice on his behalf.
"Do you know," Legolas cut across Elrohir's improvised and truly awful poetry, voice light and pleasant in a way that should have warned them, "I have been thinking."
Elladan smiled. "Have you, Your Highness?"
"That is Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm," Elrohir added helpfully, "if we are being precise."
"Me?" Legolas said icily. "You think you can tease me for being royalty?" He stopped walking and turned on them. "I was under the impression that you—" he pointed squarely in Elladan's face, "—are rightful heir to any throne you can think of, and can make a solid argument for all the ones you can't!"
"Really, little aranion, what are you talking about?"
Legolas' eyes flashed dangerously and for the first time, Elladan and Elrohir felt a thrum of fear down their spines.
"Let's start with the Sindar then," said Legolas pleasantly, "for it is simplest and you are owed it twice over. Shall I start the chase with your mother or your father?"
"Let's not be hasty, princeling—"
"Too late. Father then. Elrond, son of Elwing who has a mother in Nimloth. Nimloth, of course, being the daughter of Galathil, son of Galadhon who was son to Elmo. Elmo's brother is, of course, Elwë, the High King of Beleriand."
"Elmo's line did not inherit!"
"Astute interjection! And a useless one. For Nimloth's husband was, of course, Dior Eluchil, Thingol's grandson and heir who was, inconveniently for you, king when he died. So, through Dior's daughter Elwing you are the most eligible male heirs on one count. On another, even if Dior's line were dead—which it is not—inheritance would then revert to Elmo for Thingol had no other descendants, and, fancy that! You are still the best suited from the eldest male line!"
"Lord Celeborn–"
"Is Galadhon's younger son. He does not inherit until you are dead!"
"Even you–"
"I am descended through my grandfather from Elmo's sweet, innocuous, un-inheriting little daughter. Her line does not get Thingol's crown until all her elder brothers are exhausted. If any of us here really is prince it is you."
All the color had drained from Elladan's face, but Legolas was only just getting started.
The young Silvan, warmed up now, continued cheerfully. "Or, if you really want to split hairs, you could argue that inheritance doesn't really go to Elmo at all and that, though they shared the kingship jointly, if Elwë were to pass without heirs, it should really go solely to Olwë his other brother, who is elder to Elmo.
"But you cannot escape it even then, can you? Because then, it goes to Olwë's sons, none of whom have ever even set foot in Middle-Earth. But you know who has? Olwë's granddaughter. Through Eärwen his daughter, who married one Finarfin, youngest son of the House of Finwë. Eärwen and Finarfin's daughter is known elsewhere as Artanis Galadriel, but you two call her grandmother, don't you?" Legolas' grin was truly terrifying now. "Oh you'd argue that the sons of Finarfin would be first, but there are no living branches of that house in Middle-Earth. None but you two, of course. Through your mother, Celebrían, daughter to Galadriel, and father Elrond, son to Elwing of Dior, you are the most eligible male heirs to Elwë, King of the Sindar. Three times over!"
"S-Surely this cannot be right…?" Elrohir had a look of pale horror.
"Certainly not," Legolas said sweetly. The twins blinked at him. "We haven't even started on the Noldor yet!"
"No-"
"Wait!"
"For this we really do have to go through your father, and unfortunately neglect your Sinda heritage. Why you two insist on calling yourselves Noldor just because of your dark hair is beyond me—I am almost certain you are nearly as Sindarin as me—and I can make a compelling case that your dark hair is a reflection of Maiarin genetic dominance more than Noldorin; for Eru's sake your Noldo forebears were both blonde!—but I digress. Your father is the rightful High King of the Noldor, of course. So, the first High King was Fëanor, but after Maedhros Feanorion abdicated his line, it passes to Fingolfin.
"Fingolfin has three sons. The eldest dies without a legitimate heir, and the High Kingship passes to Turgon his middle brother. Turgon has one daughter. She marries Emissary of Ulmo himself Tuor son of Huor and they birth themselves a laughing baby boy named Eärendil! You know the story from there, I trust?"
"Idril couldn't inherit!" Elrohir stammered, desperately searching for a way out.
"Idril herself would not become Queen, perhaps. But very unfortunately for you, you would still be of Turgon's blood and so it makes exactly zero difference," said Legolas cheerfully. "But no matter!" He held up a hand as if graciously, while the twins watched in horror. "We can entertain the possibility.
"Say Idril does not inherit to the exclusion of her branch, so we jump back up to her father and move down the tree. Aredhel, if you are excluding Idril, does not count either, and anyways her only son is dead. Argon had no children seeing as he was not really in Middle-Earth long enough to accomplish that, and that is all the children of Fingolfin. So, rule reverts to Finarfin, third son of Finwë. Finarfin, of course, would be succeeded by Finrod, who had no children, Aegnor, who had no children, then Angrod, who had Orodreth, who had Finduilas and Ereinion. And," here Legolas began grinning truly wolfishly. "Ereinion Gil-Galad had no children. But do you know whom he explicitly named as his heir?"
"No!" Elladan gasped.
"Elrond Halfelven, his herald!"
Elladan clung very hard to Elrohir's hand. He did not want to be king of the Noldor, not even possibly, not even a little.
"It must have been a somewhat awkward conversation, seeing as Elrond, being descended of Turgon, really outranks him in claim to the High Kingship on several accounts, but that was Lord Elrond's business I guess."
Elladan made a strangled noise in his throat.
"But my dear, royal children!" Legolas was continuing and the peredhel reared back. How could there possibly be more? "You, truly, are the Scions of Kings! For even should you reject Finarfin's House's claim to the throne, and say you reject also, second son of Finwë Fingolfin's claim, there is no confusion. For surely the line of succession was meant to go from eldest son to eldest son all along, and Fëanor had a perfectly good eldest son right up until the end of the First Age. Maedhros Feanorion, while a bad decision maker, was a perfectly good male heir. And do you know whom he adopted?" Legolas sing-songed the last line, smiling sweetly at the twins. "In half a day I could rally up some rabid Feanorion loyalists and have you installed to the throne! They never wanted the crown to revert through Fingolfin anyway."
"B-But Maedhros abdicated–"
"So you get it through Turgon! Congratulations. There's no avoiding this."
"This is absurd," Elladan mumbled.
"Quite!" said Legolas. "Would you rather you inherit the Noldorin crown through your mother? You'd have to do some mental gymnastics to forgo Idril's female claim to revert to Finarfin, and then undo that ruling to allow it through Artanis and then Celebrian, but there are clever politicians in any place and it could easily be done. Your mother is quite fewer generations removed, in any case."
"How is this possible?" said Elrohir numbly. "How is it… Ada and Nana?!"
"And without even too much inbreeding at any stage!" Legolas laughed. He was enjoying himself immensely. "Not that elves can really do any harm in it, but I've heard it was an issue for your uncle's people a couple times. Do not fret, O royalty of royalty, no one marries siblings or aunts or uncles or first cousins even once removed."
"The Noldor and the Sindar. Ada should've united the whole of elvendom under one banner and ruled the world as he wanted!"
"Funny you should mention…" The twins looked at Legolas in alarm. "We've well established you are the rightful High Kings of the Noldor and the Sindar in Middle-Earth, but there are another people of the elves that may not have a kingdom, but certainly should have a King! It might just be you ruling over Elrohir and Arwen, but you, O High King Elladan Ereinion, of every make and model of royal blood, are rightful King of the Vanyar in Middle-Earth!"
"No Vanya came across the sea," protested Elrohir.
"Very near thing it was too. I would give my condolences, of course, to your great-great-grandfather for the loss of his wife Elenwë upon the crossing of the Helcaraxe. Their daughter Idril, we've covered her remember?, gladly survived to raise Eärendil."
"Was Elenwë even royalty?"
"Perhaps," said Legolas. "But that was mostly just to give you some more legitimacy. No one likes being ruled by someone who doesn't even know their culture! But your claim to the royal Vanyarin line can again come through your mother or father, which do you want to start with?"
"Er–"
"Trick question! For it comes to both from the same place. Well known is Finwë's first marriage to Miriel Serindë, and her tragic passing after bearing Fëanor and the draining of her spirit. But whom does Finwë marry secondly?"
"But…"
"No."
"Correct!" crowed Legolas. "None other than Indis of the Vanyar, Indis, daughter of Ingwë. (Ingwë, King of the Vanyar and High King of all Elves, Ingwë). And what fruit does Indis bear to the ridiculous tree of Finwë? But of course it is her eldest son Fingolfin! And now doesn't dear old great-great-great-grandpa Fingolfin have the most legally sound claim to the crown of the Noldor and the Vanyar in Middle-Earth? Why, he doesn't even need anyone to abdicate for him to get the Vanyarin one! Don't want it that way? Oh, who is Indis' other royal child but Finarfin himself. This one is just great-grandfather to you!"
"The Vanyar don't have kings in Middle-Earth," said Elladan.
"But you have two whole subjects to rule! And probably more besides; Fingolfin and Finarfin surely had followers from their mother's people, or had followers who had children with their mother's people like their father had. And why should the voices of the Vanyar go silent just because their High King didn't venture with them to Beleriand? Of any Vanya-in-part, you are their rightful-king-in-whole! And anyway, that doesn't detract from the fact that you have Vanyarin royal blood, no matter what else. You have more Vanyarin royal blood than you have Noldorin blood for Eru's sake! (Though your Noldorin blood is also very royal).
"Saying nothing of course for your Sindarin royal blood, which may I remind you is a couple orders of magnitude more potent than my own. Why, I oughta abdicate my crown in favor of you, Elladan!"
"Don't you dare even jest, wood elf," Elladan snarled.
"No, no, the High Kingship of the Noldor seems well enough. Besides, you O poor and illustrious great king of royal houses surely have better things to do ruling the nice Sindarin lords from Doriath here, rather than us poor Silvan nomads in a far forest."
"Oropher's crown–"
"Ought to have been passed through his elder uncle Galadhon and cousin Celeborn before my own dear great-grandmother!"
"Fine, wait, well no, but if you are being difficult–" Elrohir took a deep breath. "The Greenwood is a kingdom separate from Doriath. Whatever became of Thingol's crown, Oropher created a new one of the Silvan people. You can't possibly abdicate to Elladan!"
"Oh dear, ignorant princeling!" Legolas aimed it at Elrohir, whose mouth immediately soured at the usual epithet that he soundly could not reject. "If we are arguing royal semantics—which they always end up doing in situations like these, you understand—Oropher and Amdir really ought to have had a High King between them. In which case it really ought to have been the elder brother." Legolas grinned. "Which Oropher was not."
"What do you mean? Amdir deferred to Oropher if anything, I know my history well enough for that."
"Sure," Legolas shrugged. "Can not an elder brother take counsel from the younger? Oh dear, Elrohir, I am sorry your wise eldest brother thinks of you so little! My condolences, surely. Doesn't change the fact that Amdir was older, and don't even deny it! This is my grandfather and grand-uncle now, I know what I am about."
The twins both bristled identically and glared at Legolas. He smirked, utterly remorseless.
"But we are getting off track. The crown of the Sindar remnant of Doriath in the Silvan woods of Rhovanion, now that is a weighty crown (and even an existing one, congratulations!) and it is, of course, like all other elf crowns, yours by right. Because whoever took up the rulership of Lothlorien from Amdir's only son but Galadriel!"
"They are not King and Queen."
"And they have the rule and the crown anyway, come off it."
"Thranduil certainly doesn't treat them like joint rulers of a Silvan Rhovanion! Oropher's crown is completely separate; you can foist all the nonexistent crowns of the elves on us, but you aren't getting out of your own so easily!"
"You forget, dear cousin," Elladan's eye twitched at the relation. "That Oropher way back then ought to have recognized Amdir as his High King. And you know, maybe they did, they just had a good relationship and things like communication that made it unnecessary. Due to all common rules of succession, once Amroth left the woods in stewardship of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel he effectively appointed them his heirs, and they ought to have risen to the High King and Queenship of the Silvan elves in Rhovanion, whereupon I might become king, but be vassal only to you, O Elladan grandson of the King and Queen. I bet our Doriathrin lords would be thrilled, anyway, cause you have the direct blood of Luthien for your legitimacy!"
Elladan lunged for Legolas then, seeking very hard to throttle the young elf. The prince ducked out of the way before gleefully wondering aloud if this was how the future High King of the elves and seed of Turgon, Dior, and Galadriel all combined ought to comport himself.
"Thank Eru, Ada refused the throne…" Elrohir said, very legitimately troubled. Even hypothetically he could easily see a world where their family was forced up onto the pedestal for pretty much every elf left in Middle-Earth. "Well, I suppose it'd never have to be me, anyway."
"Wha– Hey!" Elladan stopped trying to grab Legolas long enough to send a hurt and betrayed look at his twin. "You are daft if you think I'm not immediately abdicating in favor of you if anyone even tries to come near me with a crown."
"What?!"
"Both of you abdicate and Arwen can be queen!" Legolas said cheerfully from a safe distance halfway up a nearby tree.
"Arwen's gonna be queen of Gondor, in case you haven't forgotten."
The cheerful blond head went very still, a shit-eating grin plastered across it.
"What…"
"You aren't–"
"That reminds me! Aptly you've remembered that through Elwing you have Luthien's blood in you. (And we've really glossed over this blood of a literal Maia thing, which I think is one huge point in your favor) You came also, of course, from Beren son of Barahir! And on your Father's other side is none other but Tuor son of Huor, blessed among men and come from all three Houses of the Edain! Not to mention Elros Tar-Minyatar is your uncle, so really, give me a week and I can have a very solid case for you to be installed upon any throne of men you want—!"
He cut off then in favor of fleeing rapidly through the trees as two incensed Peredhil gave chase.
"Faster, Elladan!"
"There! You go for the legs, I'll go for the eyes."
"Quick, we can get him here now before he can tell anyone else!"