Picking Apples
*Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, or any of LotR, or Tolkien, or whatever! I really, really, REALLY wish I did own Legolas, or Thranduil, though, because that would be awesome to have the King of Mirkwood as my slave XD*
Note: I wasn't sure of anyone's ages, so for the purpose of this fic, the Elrondion twins, Elrohir and Elladan, are basically the same age as Legolas (maybe slightly older). This is just a short one-shot (maybe with a little father-son relationship fluff in it, but otherwise just generally showing the random adventures of young Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir) and I wrote it really quickly today, just as a little break from writing all my other fanfics (*cough and my homework cough*)
Elvish: Ada means father, ion means son :)
Enjoy! And please R&R!
~xXx~
"Ada! Ada! Look at that one!" A tiny, golden-haired Elfling giggled and pointed to a large red apple hanging high above his head, ready and ripe for picking. With a squeal, he threw himself upwards, trying to snatch it down.
Thranduil, the Elfling's father and Elven-king of Mirkwood, laughed brightly while the little Elfling grumbled at not being able to reach his prize. "Now, now, Legolas – you must be careful!" the King told his son, scooping the small Elf into his arms after a particularly nasty fall.
Thranduil gently rubbed the bruise that was beginning to form on Legolas' arm and pressed a healing kiss onto the young Prince's pale skin. Legolas grinned widely and wrapped his arms around Thranduil's neck.
Today, Legolas had decided very early that morning, would be a good day – he had already planned out everything.
Later that morning, his friends, Elladan and Elrohir Elrondion, would be joining him to play in the gardens, and once they had thoroughly tired each other out, the cook had promised them all some fresh bread, and also that he would cook any fruit they found into a pie for the three of them to share. After they were full, they would curl up by the fire and his father and Lord Elrond would tell them stories of the old days.
The weather was pleasant (the young Elfling had made sure that it wouldn't rain by speaking to a very amused Captain of the Guards, who promised to chase away any rain clouds) and the sky was clear. Birds sang in the trees, and a gentle breeze tugged and teased the young Prince's braids, making him beam with delight.
Yes, Legolas thought happily to himself, today would be good.
On the other side of the great apple tree, Elrond – who was wrestling playfully with two identical dark-haired Elflings – shot Thranduil a bemused look. The King and his son (despite the colossal age difference) were alike in so many ways; both fair, with long golden braids and bright and sparkling stormy-blue eyes. And though the Prince was still only young, he walked with the same pride, power, and strength of his father, and Elrond knew that one day, after Thranduil had finally passed into the West, Legolas Thranduilion would make a great king.
"Ada! I can't reach it!" Legolas' lower lip trembled and he looked up hopefully at his father. "Will you help me?"
"Wait, wait! We can help you, Legolas!" Elrohir and Elladan jumped down from their father's lap and bombarded their friend with a hug.
"Maybe if you stand on Elrohir's shoulders," Elladan suggested in a smart voice, "Then I can climb on your head and we can reach it together!"
Elrond and Thranduil grinned and observed their sons' plotting – but before either of the two older Elves could respond, Elrohir had interrupted his brother with a yelp of disapproval.
"That wouldn't work, Elladan!" Elrohir told him matter-of-factly, causing Elladan's face to crumple. "Everybody knows that I'm the best climber! Since Legolas is the shortest, he should stand on your shoulders, and I should be the one to climb on his head!"
"How about one of us gets it for you," Elrond spoke up, intersecting the twins before they started a physical fight – Elladan was already looking very upset at his brother's interruption, and was curling his lips into an ugly frown.
Legolas stared up at Elrond, titling his head to the side curiously. "But how will you climb on Ada's shoulders? You are too big!"
Thranduil burst in laughter while Elrond quirked an eyebrow at the King's innocent son, his smile reaching his ancient grey eyes. "How will…" the Lord of Rivendell repeated slowly, checking to see if he had heard right, "climb… on his shoulders?"
"Yes!" the three Elfling's chorused. "How else will you reach all of the apples?"
Thranduil wiped a small tear from his eye and inhaled deeply to calm his fit of laughter. He knelt down in the grass so he was eye-level with the three of them. "I think we can manage, boys," the King told them, patting his son on the head, before standing up again and easily plucking the biggest apple to place in Legolas' outstretched hands.
Elrohir and Elladan rushed to Legolas' side, quietly gazing with enchanted expressions at the shiny, red fruit. After a moment of intense silence, Legolas motioned for his two friends to lean towards him,
"Ada says that apples make you grow really tall!" the young Prince shared, and the Elrondion twins' eyes grew even wider with awe. "According to Ada, centuries ago wood Elves were as short as these little creature called 'Halflings' and that they wanted to be taller, so they got called the bestest wizards in the world to come and enchant the apples to make them tall! That's why we have to eat all of our fruit, so we can be as tall as Ada!"
Elrond sniggered when he heard Legolas speak of magical wizards enchanting fruit to make Elves tall, and he shook his head at Thranduil, chuckling quietly.
"What?" Thranduil hissed to him, looking amused, "It gets him to eat his fruit, at least!"
Meanwhile, Elrohir, Elladan, and Legolas were starting to make more plans. "I bet if we eat all of the apples on the tree, we can be the tallest Elves in the world!" Elrohir gushed out, extending his hand as high as he could above his head. "We can be this tall!"
Elladan gasped at his brother. "No, no, Elrohir! You can't grow too tall, or you shall bump into the apple branch and your head shall fall off, and then you won't be tall at all!"
"Yes, and you can't eat too many apples, or you shall turn into an apple tree yourself!" Legolas added, and Elladan nodded his head furiously.
"Fine," Elrohir huffed, crossing his arms and turning his nose up at his brother and the Prince, "We won't eat too many – just enough to grow really, really tall!"
Later that evening, after Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir had collected as many apples as their little arms could carry, and the cook had fulfilled his promise and brought up some fresh bread and berries for the three Elflings (along with some wine for Lord Elrond and the King) Elrond had called the three small Elves to his side and began to enthusiastically tell them the tale of the Ents and their lost Entwives.
The tale of the Entwives was a long and favoured tale of the three Elflings, but soon after it had begun, Elrohir and Elladan had begun to gently drift off to sleep, and it wasn't long before the Elrondion twins had sufficiently curled up against Lord Elrond and were resting peacefully.
Seeing they were asleep, Legolas crawled carefully into his father's lap. Thranduil tugged at the end of his cloak, freeing enough from beneath him so he could wrap the Elfling tightly in it.
"Ada," Legolas mumbled, his tired voice muffled by Thranduil's cloak, "Will I ever be as tall as you?"
Thranduil smiled fondly at his son and gently stroked Legolas' a few stray, pale golden locks out of his face. "Of course you will, ion!" Legolas grinned happily, and made a small content noise against his father. "In fact, ion, one day you will be even taller than me!"
"Wow! Will I really?" Thranduil nodded and Legolas' face lit up with wonder. "Even taller than Elrohir and Elladan?"
Legolas felt his father's chest move against his cheek as Thranduil laughed, and the small Elf joined in, giggling and watching in amazement at the imaginary picture the King was painting for him. "Yes, even taller than them – just make sure you keep eating apples, ion."