DISCLAIMER: Tolkien is a genius. I am not. Therefore I own nothing.
This might turn into a group of stories about a child Legolas that involve his loving father Thranduil. I have ideas for more, but have yet to write them. So for now, enjoy this one and let me know what you think! All feedback and constructive criticism is welcome!
~*~*~*~*~
The heavy wooden door creaked open. A small golden head poked through the gap and looked around. The small child ran into the room and left the door open enough for him to hear outside in the corridor. The young elfling grinned as he looked around the dimly lit room.
It was the castle armory that the youngest prince of Mirkwood had found. He was never permitted in the room, his father convinced that he would hurt himself on the numerous sharp weapons inside. It had taken Legolas a time to finally escape his minders and make his way to the room always barred toward him.
He walked along the wall, examining the sword and spears mounted on the wall. He picked up one of the finely crafted swords, barely able to hold its immense weight. Legolas was only thirteen, and quite small by elven standards.
He dropped the sword on the ground once he could no longer support the heavy weight. He moved next to the bows and quivers and studied them with a rapt fascination. He picked up one of the bows and experimentally sighted along its length, though he couldn't reach any of the full quivers. He pulled the string, though not very far.
He set the bow reverently down and moved to the shields. There was no cause for many shields in Mirkwood. The last time they had been truly used had been during the Last Alliance. Legolas looked up and saw several scorched shields from that ancient time of his father's father. There was one hanging close enough to the ground that his small elven hands could barely grasp it.
He pulled it off the wall and slid back unsteadily as he staggered under the weight. He stumbled and knocked into a rack housing both swords and shields, causing it to tip dangerously. Legolas looked up in fear as the rack wobbled and began to fall toward him. With a shout he crouched to the ground and let the shield fall over him as a cover.
The weapons fell all around him in a crashing manner, some falling to the ground and many falling onto the shield that had the scared prince underneath. The horrible racket finally ceased and Legolas shifted underneath the heavy shield.
Though the shield was large and covered most of him, one of his hands had been caught outside the protective cover. He tried to pull his hand back in, but the edge rested on his wrist. He could feel the pain in his palm, he did not doubt that some of the falling weaponry had lacerated his precious skin.
With little else to do, he started to cry in the way only a small child could. "ADA!"
~*~*~*~
Thranduil had already been making his way to the armory when Legolas' tearful voice reached him. He immediately broke into a run, fearful for his youngest son. He burst into the armory and looked in dismay about the nearly destroyed room. "Legolas?" he called out, in no doubt that his son had caused this mess.
"Ada!" The voice was definitely scared. He rounded one of the now empty racks and saw the very shield that Oropher used in the Last Alliance strewn upon the ground with a bloody hand coming out from under it.
"Legolas!" he cried in dismay. Rushing forward, he easily lifted the shield off of his son and picked the crying elfling up in his arms. Legolas buried his head in his father's tunic and cried forcefully.
"It is all right little Greenleaf, I am here now," Thranduil whispered into his son's ear. "Let me have a look at your hand." Legolas tried to stifle his tears as he presented the abused hand to his father.
"Hurts," he said in between sobs.
Thranduil nodded gravely. "I'm sure it does. Let's get you cleaned up, all right?" Legolas nodded and continued to sniffle as his father carried him back to his room. He stopped a servant along the way, telling him to gather some help and to start cleaning up the armory. The elf looked at him in confusion, but did as he was told.
Thranduil quietly entered his chambers and closed the door behind him. Though Legolas was reluctant to release his hold on his father's neck, he did so and allowed Thranduil to place him on the bed. The King then moved to the dresser where he kept some simple bandages and herbs in case such an accident should happen with his children.
Tears continued to slide down Legolas' face, though they were slowing. He bit his lip as Thranduil carefully bathed the hand in herb-infused water and bound it with clean bandages. The King smiled at his son and then sat on the bed next to him, pulling the sniffling elfling into his lap.
"Are you better now, my little Greenleaf?" Thranduil asked, kissing the top of the child's head.
Legolas nodded and nestled closer into his father's comforting embrace. "I'm sorry I went into the armory Ada," he said quietly.
Thranduil smiled gently and stroked the golden head. "I know you are. Maybe when you are older I will tell you the history of that great shield that protected you."
Legolas smiled as his eyes started to lose their focus. He leaned closer into his father's arms and sighed in contentment. Thranduil chuckled and carefully picked up the child, settling him on his hip before walking towards Legolas' rooms.
Legolas had nearly fallen asleep when they arrived at his room and Thranduil carefully tucked the small child into his bed. "Sleep well, my little Greenleaf." He kissed the forehead tenderly and gave another loving glance towards his sleeping, mischievous child.
~*~*~*~
Ada - Dad/Daddy
This might turn into a group of stories about a child Legolas that involve his loving father Thranduil. I have ideas for more, but have yet to write them. So for now, enjoy this one and let me know what you think! All feedback and constructive criticism is welcome!
~*~*~*~*~
The heavy wooden door creaked open. A small golden head poked through the gap and looked around. The small child ran into the room and left the door open enough for him to hear outside in the corridor. The young elfling grinned as he looked around the dimly lit room.
It was the castle armory that the youngest prince of Mirkwood had found. He was never permitted in the room, his father convinced that he would hurt himself on the numerous sharp weapons inside. It had taken Legolas a time to finally escape his minders and make his way to the room always barred toward him.
He walked along the wall, examining the sword and spears mounted on the wall. He picked up one of the finely crafted swords, barely able to hold its immense weight. Legolas was only thirteen, and quite small by elven standards.
He dropped the sword on the ground once he could no longer support the heavy weight. He moved next to the bows and quivers and studied them with a rapt fascination. He picked up one of the bows and experimentally sighted along its length, though he couldn't reach any of the full quivers. He pulled the string, though not very far.
He set the bow reverently down and moved to the shields. There was no cause for many shields in Mirkwood. The last time they had been truly used had been during the Last Alliance. Legolas looked up and saw several scorched shields from that ancient time of his father's father. There was one hanging close enough to the ground that his small elven hands could barely grasp it.
He pulled it off the wall and slid back unsteadily as he staggered under the weight. He stumbled and knocked into a rack housing both swords and shields, causing it to tip dangerously. Legolas looked up in fear as the rack wobbled and began to fall toward him. With a shout he crouched to the ground and let the shield fall over him as a cover.
The weapons fell all around him in a crashing manner, some falling to the ground and many falling onto the shield that had the scared prince underneath. The horrible racket finally ceased and Legolas shifted underneath the heavy shield.
Though the shield was large and covered most of him, one of his hands had been caught outside the protective cover. He tried to pull his hand back in, but the edge rested on his wrist. He could feel the pain in his palm, he did not doubt that some of the falling weaponry had lacerated his precious skin.
With little else to do, he started to cry in the way only a small child could. "ADA!"
~*~*~*~
Thranduil had already been making his way to the armory when Legolas' tearful voice reached him. He immediately broke into a run, fearful for his youngest son. He burst into the armory and looked in dismay about the nearly destroyed room. "Legolas?" he called out, in no doubt that his son had caused this mess.
"Ada!" The voice was definitely scared. He rounded one of the now empty racks and saw the very shield that Oropher used in the Last Alliance strewn upon the ground with a bloody hand coming out from under it.
"Legolas!" he cried in dismay. Rushing forward, he easily lifted the shield off of his son and picked the crying elfling up in his arms. Legolas buried his head in his father's tunic and cried forcefully.
"It is all right little Greenleaf, I am here now," Thranduil whispered into his son's ear. "Let me have a look at your hand." Legolas tried to stifle his tears as he presented the abused hand to his father.
"Hurts," he said in between sobs.
Thranduil nodded gravely. "I'm sure it does. Let's get you cleaned up, all right?" Legolas nodded and continued to sniffle as his father carried him back to his room. He stopped a servant along the way, telling him to gather some help and to start cleaning up the armory. The elf looked at him in confusion, but did as he was told.
Thranduil quietly entered his chambers and closed the door behind him. Though Legolas was reluctant to release his hold on his father's neck, he did so and allowed Thranduil to place him on the bed. The King then moved to the dresser where he kept some simple bandages and herbs in case such an accident should happen with his children.
Tears continued to slide down Legolas' face, though they were slowing. He bit his lip as Thranduil carefully bathed the hand in herb-infused water and bound it with clean bandages. The King smiled at his son and then sat on the bed next to him, pulling the sniffling elfling into his lap.
"Are you better now, my little Greenleaf?" Thranduil asked, kissing the top of the child's head.
Legolas nodded and nestled closer into his father's comforting embrace. "I'm sorry I went into the armory Ada," he said quietly.
Thranduil smiled gently and stroked the golden head. "I know you are. Maybe when you are older I will tell you the history of that great shield that protected you."
Legolas smiled as his eyes started to lose their focus. He leaned closer into his father's arms and sighed in contentment. Thranduil chuckled and carefully picked up the child, settling him on his hip before walking towards Legolas' rooms.
Legolas had nearly fallen asleep when they arrived at his room and Thranduil carefully tucked the small child into his bed. "Sleep well, my little Greenleaf." He kissed the forehead tenderly and gave another loving glance towards his sleeping, mischievous child.
~*~*~*~
Ada - Dad/Daddy