A dark moment from Legolas' childhood. Not your usual Angsty!Legolas. More character studies on the theme of beards may be forthcoming (depending on the reviews hint hint).
Not the Beard!
"We think he'll be a great warrior."
Gandalf's lips quirked at Thranduil's retreating back: the usually intimidating king was chattering like a hobbit about his new son. Musing over the strange effect new children seemed to have on formerly sensible adults, Gandalf missed most of what Thranduil said next, until the phrase "gnawing through a table leg" caught his attention.
"Why, the other day, he ate a whole spider."
"Oh, really?"
"Not a talking spider, of course, only a few inches across… but we didn't have to give him dinner. Just think what he'll be like when he grows up!"
Legolas, that was a bit of a hippy name, Gandalf thought disapprovingly. Might as well have called him Treehugger and be done with it. The child would never amount to anything with a name like that. Should have let me name him.
Thranduil's happy boasts floated back to Gandalf from the hallway as he went to fetch the elfling from his nap. "It was-" Thranduil kept talking, seemingly unaware he'd left the wizard's field of hearing. Gandalf couldn't catch what he was saying for a minute or two- something about chewing and teethmarks, then he heard Thranduil say "in the dahlias!" rather emphatically.
"Here he is, the evil little sod", Thranduil said with great affection, re-entering the room with his tiny son in his arms. The elfling was rubbing his eyes crossly.
Thranduil proudly deposited the squirming toddler in front of Gandalf. "This is Legolas. He's already extremely brave!"
"Yes, you said." Gandalf regarded the elfling. He wasn't cute, he reminded himself gruffly. It was just a trick of small things that they sometimes appeared that way. Nevertheless, he knew he had a knack of befriending children of all races and all ages, and rather looked forward to making friends with Thranduil's latest.
"Hello", he said.
Legolas stopped rubbing his eyes and regarded the wizard's knees solemnly. Then his eyes travelled up, his small face crumpled, and he screamed like a Nazgul.
"That's his warcry", Thranduil insisted. He tried to sound cheery, as if he wasn't wincing with his hands over his ears. "He's really very brave".
Legolas' actions did not bear this out. He turned and buried his face against his father's legs, wailing. Thranduil began to feel tears soaking through to his kneecaps. "Yes, quite filled with courage," Gandalf muttered sardonically. He was confused and rather put out. He lifted the small elf up gently, so that they could regard each other at eye level, and he smiled in a kind way.
Legolas was not impressed. He kicked, he cried, and he leant as far away from Gandalf's face as he could. "Daddy!" he demanded. "SAVE ME!"
"Hmmm…" said Gandalf. "I must say, I've never had a child react quite so vehemently to me before…"
Thranduil was equally confused. His small son never usually reacted in such a manner when he met new people, even quite tall ones, and though he'd not left Mirkwood before he'd met a large number of different elves without distress.
"I think I'd better take him away to calm him down", he said, half apologetic and half suspicious.
Back in the nursery, Legolas asked through tears about the hairy monster that was eating the stranger's face. "It won't eat my face, will it?" he sobbed.
Understanding dawned. Thranduil smiled, and tried to explain. "No, you see, it is like the hair on our heads…" Thranduil gave up this line of argument when Legolas clutched the hair on his own head in sudden terror. "It is not a monster, but something that grows out of his chin…"
Legolas grabbed desperately at his own face. He nearly went cross-eyed trying to watch his chin for sudden attacks. But even if he could see his face, how could he prevent the hairy monster from chewing through the skin there? The monster came from inside! This was far more terrifying and dangerous than monsters under the bed or in the dark woods, those could be guarded against through vigilance, threatened by siblings with wooden swords.
Outside the room, Gandalf winced as fresh wails broke out. "What on Middle Earth was all that about?" he pondered, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
"How did you first meet Gandalf, Legolas?" Merry asked innocently, while the Fellowship listened to the elves of Lorien mourning Gandalf's death.
"I have not the heart to tell you." Legolas said evasively, in what he considered a mysterious, yet mournful, voice. "For me the grief is still too near." Feeling expectant eyes still on him, Legolas felt forced to continue.
"It was… a dark time in my life." What would satisfy the hobbits, and protect his pride? "A terrifying event," he settled for. "I do not wish to relive it".
Merry opened his mouth to ask more, but uncharacteristically, Gimli shushed him. Usually happy to mock the elf for any weakness, real or perceived, now he had to admit to himself (if not to anyone else) that Legolas was a brave warrior. If he could not bear to talk of it, whatever Legolas had faced at the time of his first meeting with Gandalf must have been dark and dangerous indeed.
"I think we've all had enough dark thoughts for one day", Gimli said. "Leave the elf alone". Even if he is a bit of a tree-hugger, he added to himself.
***
I've had this plotbunny bouncing around in my head for a while, but what reminded me to put it online was a lovely moment in Thundera Tiger's Fear no Darkness where Sam's daughter Elanor meets Gimli.