Title: Of Wizards and Elflings
Characters: Revolves around a little Legolas and Gandalf, but contains Thranduil, the elvenqueen, Arwen and appearances of others.
Summary: Gandalf Greyhame, powerful istar, wise wizard, would always be reduced to childish play by a certain little Elfling... Four oneshots, from birth, to storytelling, to giggling, to comforting.
Disclaimer: You know the drill, Lord of the Rings and characters and whatnot don't belong to me (except maybe the healer.)
A/N: Right still on holiday, I think I'm on a roll writing Starcrossed. I've covered about three chapters in one week! Not posting them yet though... and these four chapters were inspired by Gandalf's thoughts in one of those chapters. I won't tell you the thoughts, but it's kinda easy to guess... Read on!
p.s. I know that newborn babies are not able to laugh, only smiling slightly, and even then its only gas, but come on, this is a newborn elfling! The possibilities are endless. I could have had it sprout wings and horns and start to hump a lamppost or something...
Of Wizards and Elflings
Leaves and Green
A king anxiously paced the hallway, his blue robes flowing streamline behind him as, yet again, he spun on his heels to resume in the opposite direction, muttering under his breath. Only one other was present, standing in the shadows against the wall, and looking amused with it all.
"I do not think," Gandalf began around his pipe. "That pacing will help matters, dear Thranduil."
The elvenking jumped at the sound of the wizard, so lost in his worry that he'd forgotten his friend even stood there. He sighed, running a hand through his golden hair but resuming his pacing nonetheless.
"I am anxious, Mithrandir." He admitted, folding his hands behind his back, only to throw them in the air a moment later. "Valar, I have faced armies ten times bigger than ours, and even then had not been so worried!"
Gandalf smiled kindly, stopping the king's pacing with a hand.
"It is but a normal feeling for a father." He reassured. "I hold no doubt that your father had been the same at your birth."
But Thranduil had not heard his last sentence, as the mere mention of his newfound fatherhood was enough to plaster his face into a sloppy grin.
"Ai, my own son." He breathed happily, before backtracking at the wizard's stern look. "I mean elfling. Of course, an elfling."
Gandalf sighed once more, opening his mouth only to be cut off by a blood-curdling scream emitted from the single room on the hallway. Thranduil immediately surged forward, seeking to aid his wife, but found a firm, wooden staff blocking his path.
"Away from that door, good king." the Istar ordered calmly, not lowering his staff even when the elvenking's shoulders slumped and he turned away. "I assure you your skilled healers will secure the safety of both your wife and child. In the meantime," Gandalf finally brought back his staff, clapping his hands together. "Have you a name in mind?"
But again Thranduil was not listening, instead he had launched into a panicked rant and began again to pace.
"But what if something was to go wrong? What if they have need of us whilst we banter out here? What if it is the wrong time to be having an elfling? The spiders-" At this the king froze, and brought his hands up to his face in horror. "Ai Valar! The spiders! This is certainly not the time for an elfling!"
He went hurrying back towards the door, but was again stopped by the staff.
"Calm yourself, Thranduil! Will you race in there and push the elfling back?" Gandalf snapped forcefully, before softening his voice.
"You see this leaf?" he motioned towards a leaf, floating down from an open window. "It represents life, and with life, how is it that this is not the time?"
Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the fallen leaf for a moment, frowning intensely, but eventually he relaxed and smiled weakly at Gandalf.
"How just: the beginning of a new life." he commented quietly, resignedly leaning back against the wall.
"Now," Gandalf continued. "Perhaps a change of topic is due. Have you an idea for a name?"
Thranduil sighed heavily, shaking his head sadly.
"You haven't a name?" Gandalf exclaimed incredulously. " Surely you have at least decided on his ceremonial robes?"
"Of course!" The elvenking replied defiantly. "They shall be as mine were... Green."
" Ah, green." Gandalf smiled as he tasted the word, before cocking an eyebrow at his elven friend. "That is the colour of peace."
Thranduil nodded absently, before realising what the wizard had meant. "It is the dawn of peace." he murmured happily, brightening at once.
"Precisely." Gandalf's eyes were twinkling, and the two shared relaxed smiles as, finally, the door opened to reveal one healer.
"Mithrandir." he greeted the wizard with a graceful bow before turning to the king, a soft smile gracing his lips. "A son, my lord."
Thranduil's eyes widened as the healer turned to lead him inside, seizing Gandalf's arm and dragging him also as he stepped through to a room, where all was white. Why that was, Gandalf had never asked, but secretly thought it unreasonable to have white covers in a birthing room. The elvenqueen sat propped in the midst of them, leaning tiredly back against many pillows. She didn't seem to see them until they'd crossed the room to her bedside, and even then she only smiled at them, before nodding to one side of the room. There stood a healer, and in his arms a wrapped bundle of cloth, and in a hollow in the folds, a small face peeked out.
Thranduil was already moving towards the healer, and the bundle, totally in awe as the healer held out his son. It was rare to see the elvenking so childlike, but even so, they all smiled as he tentatively took hold of the bundle, cradling the little elfling in his arms like a priceless ornament. Thranduil looked down at his newborn son, taking in the rosy cheeks, the button nose, the wisps of golden hair, and the crystal blue eyes. Tears of joy sprang to the king's eyes as he looked up at the others.
" He has my eyes." he told them happily, seeming more and more like an elfling, despite his many millennia's
"And your nose." The elvenqueen added, sinking back into the pillows.
"But your hair." Thranduil replied defensively, clearly glad that his son possessed some of his mother.
"He has barely any, Thranduil." The queen murmured, already half in sleep, and Gandalf chuckled, patting her hand lightly as Thranduil crossed the room towards them.
"Gandalf, Mellon nin?" he enquired, offering the tiny elfling to him, but before Gandalf could lightly refuse, the small bundle had already been carefully placed into his arms.
His protests were immediately silenced when he looked into the small face, and his lips curled into a smile. Two, big, cobalt blue eyes blinked up at him, as the prince's lips formed into an 'o', and the newborn elfling seemed just as in awe with the wizard, as the wizard was in him. This one shall grow to be strong and handsome, Gandalf thought to himself, he shall make many an elfmaid swoon. The little prince gurgled happily, reaching up his small arms towards Gandalf's face.
Thranduil sat by his wife, stroking her hand softly as he looked lovingly at her. "As beautiful as his mother." He murmured, kissing her knuckles.
"He is already taking after his father." Gandalf grumbled, as two tiny fists curled into his beard and tugged, and the little prince squealed in laughter and delight.
* * *
Elves from the far corners of middle-earth were gathering at Mirkwood for the naming ceremony of the newborn, crown prince, and Gandalf found himself sat beside Arwen Evenstar and Lord Elrond, whilst on his right was Celeborn, lord of Lothlorien.
It was not long before the beginning of the ceremony, and so as the elves began to take their seats, and the king, queen and Lady Galadriel were busy preparing, the little prince had been given to the four for the time being.
The little elfling seemed unperturbed as he lay cradled in Arwen's arms, gurgling happily and clapping his hands together as she cooed to him. He was indeed wearing small robes of a magnificent green colour, marked with rich embroidering, but his feet had been left bare, and now he squealed in delight as Arwen tickled them.
"He has the eyes of his father." Celeborn commented; his rich voice softened.
"But the hair of his mother." Elrond added, smiling warmly as the little prince caught hold of his finger and gripped it curiously.
Gandalf chuckled to himself. It took only a little elfling to get these elves of power in awe. It was well that the fronts of wisdom had slipped, but it wasn't long before the time came for the ceremony, and the queen took the little prince gurgling away.
The gardens of Mirkwood were completely silent as the elves, and the one wizard, watched silently as the lady of light came to stand before them, cradling the little prince in her arms.
"At the fall of evil," Her melodic voice boomed. "Life is found... and we are all reminded of what we had once fought for."
The king and queen stood behind and to the left of her, watching with a slight sense of pride as Lady Galadriel raised their son, and the little prince gurgled on, blissfully unaware of what was happening.
"The crown prince of Eryn Galen has been born, and let us all join together in welcoming to this world," She paused for a short moment, a smile on her lips as she lowered the still gurgling prince. "Legolas Greenleaf."
Through the cheers, the wizard winked at the king.
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