"D-D," started a baby Legolas, prince of Mirkwood. His father, Thandruil Greenleaf watched, hoping for his son's first words. So far, the five-month old had only managed to make sounds.

"D-D," tried his son again. Maybe he was attempting to say "ada," meaning father in their language, or maybe that derogative of father, "dad," that men used. Either way, Thranduil would be happy if his son just spoke.

The small elf-child tried again, this time with stubborn determination. "Da-D…"

"Son, you can do it," chided Thranduil.

The baby screwed up his face in concentration. "Dwar-D-"

Thranduil thought for a moment his son's first words were going to be the name of the creatures he hated. Of course, Legolas wouldn't have said that, but a father always had to worry.

By the look on his son's face, the king of Mirkwood knew it was time. "D-" started the baby again, "Dwarves!"

Thranduil looked at his son in shock. Dwarves? Why did it have to be dwarves? He must have talked too much about those stupid creatures in front of the baby.

"Dwarves!" squealed Legolas, seeming proud of his new found ability to say the word. "Dwarves! Dwarves!"

Groaning, Thranduil sank into a chair. His son's first word was 'dwarves,' what a disgrace. Sneaking a peak at the child, he saw it was staring back. "Dwarves!"

Thranduil nodded. "Dwarves…."