Disclaimer- I own nothing. That's right nothing. So don't sue.
A/N- I plan on continuing this through Legolas's childhood to show the father/son relationship thing. I always thought Thranduil was a good non-abusive father who just got a bad rep in the Hobbit. I thought I should just share my opinion in my story.. Please R&R constructive criticism is welcome flames are laughed at. Please enjoy.
*The Father and Son Series: The Shirt*
"NO!" A shrill voice cut the night air like a warm knife through butter. The owner of the voice, a small elven child, burst through the doors opening to his room and made his way rapidly down the hall, pale blond hair streaming behind him. His attendant trailed after him, holding the offending article of clothing that had sent the young prince running.
"You WILL wear this shirt Master Legolas!" The elf maid called to him. While not old, as elves never age, her face showed creases telling years of service raising the heirs to the throne of Mirkwood. Although most were rambunctious, none were as bad as little Legolas. He was impossible, much like his father, Hirith recalled, remembering the trouble the current king had given her when he was only Legolas's age. With a sigh the old elf set off after the young Prince.
She did not have far to go, as she spotted his fair hair sticking out about the foliage of the plant he had sought refuge in.
"Even though you blend in exceptionally well with the foliage, young master, you still stick out like a sore thumb with that hair of yours." The young child stiffened when addressed, pale blue eyes peeping out from behind the foliage. The child began to giggle at his nurse, as if this was some grand joke that only he could comprehend until his eyes fell upon the appalling shirt. The laughter died on his lips, the sight of the evil shirt sending him scampering for a better hiding spot.
"Oh no you don't!" Hirith cried, reaching forward to grab the child before he got free again. Her hands moved to grab his shirt, belatedly realizing the child was topless. Yet another problem to contend with. "Master Legolas it is most improper for young Princes to run around half nude! Do you want people to believe you are a savage?" Hirith realized that rationalizing with Legolas was akin to feeding a troll vegetables. They just didn't go together. Gathering her skirts about her, Hirith set about chasing the young Prince, hoping she was still fast enough to catch the little "cherub". Although the longer this affair lasted the more he looked like a demon to her.
Little Legolas's eyes got as big as saucers as he saw his nurse bearing down on him with hated shirt in tow. He turned and ran as fast as his legs could take him to the one person who could possibly save him from the possessed nurse.
"DADDY!!!" He squealed in his high-pitched voice, the kind that never fail to produce a raging migraine. He burst through the wide, wooden doors that led to his father's chambers. "Daddy help!!!" he cried, knocking over several things as he searched the chambers for sings of his father. Thranduil, King of Mirkwood arrived, long knives in hand ready to defend his youngest offspring. Relief shone on his fair face as he saw his child unharmed and whole.
"Legolas, whatever is the matter?" he asked his youngest son, and perhaps his favorite as well. His other sons would make any father proud, but none had the innocence his youngest had. They had lost their own defending Mirkwood and to their own ambition. But the time to pick the best son would come later, as he had no need to name an heir immediately. Mirkwood was at peace and he felt no need to journey to the west. Rather his immediate concern was to determine the cause of his youngest's panic.
Legolas snuggled up against his father, glad for the attention and physical contact. Thranduil could not help but smile. "Legolas…" He said in just the way that only a parent could do in which a mere name can mean paragraphs of information. In this instance it was a mild warning and a cue for Legolas to tell him what was wrong.
"Ish 'ink." He responded, his words slurred by the layers of robe that he had shoved his head through.
"I'm sorry my little one, but I couldn't quite catch what you said, what with the fabric in the way in all." Legolas removed his head from his father's chest and looked up in his father's face.
"It's pink."
"What was?"
"The shirt. Hiwith said I gotta wear it for the ball but I don't wanna. You won't make me will you Daddy?" Legolas peered anxiously into his father's face. "I'll look like a girl!"
"No, I believe that's Elrond's place in life."
"Who's Elwon?" Legolas asked, intrigued by the idea of an elf who actually wanted to look like the opposite sex. Thranduil laughed.
"He's an…acquaintance of mine and Lord of Imladris. But don't let me taint you! Pass your own judgments on people, and trust your heart."
"Oh." Legolas said, a little disappointed that he wouldn't have the chance to meet a cross-dressing elf. He was about to speak when Hirith burst in, out of breathe and wheezing from the exertion of running. Her easy living inside the palace had not kept her in prime shape.
"Oh, sorry my Lord, I was just trying to fetch Legolas and get him ready for the ball this evening…I had not meant to intrude."
"It's quite alright. However, we do have a problem involving the shirt…Legolas seems to feel it doesn't have the masculine edge he requires." Thranduil said, highly amused with the current situation. He eyed the shirt, no ruffles, no lace and barely the slightest color to it at all. Leave it to Legolas to raise the dead over a pink-hued shirt.
"My Lord, he has no other clean shirts… They are all being washed to get that sap out of them since he has taken to climbing pines." Hirith was looking rather flustered, but Thranduil shook his head and whispered "He must learn a lesson, do not worry so." in her ear. Hirith visibly relaxed, glad not to have offended her liege. Legolas whimpered, his father always told him to listen to his heart and right now it was telling him that he was getting the pink shirt.
"Well, Legolas, you really can't tell the color, and it could be worse!" Hirith offered.
"Think of it as a character building experience." Thranduil added, taking the shirt and helping to put it on Legolas. "And besides no one you know will be there." Hirith held out her hand, ready to lead the Prince back to his chambers to work on his rat's nest of hair.
"But it's pink.." Legolas muttered dejectedly.
"Well then, maybe if you hadn't climbed in the pine trees after I asked you not to you might have some shirts left." Thranduil responded. Legolas looked down. He was wrong and he knew it. Thranduil planted a kiss on his head. " See you at the ball." He called as Hirith led Legolas away.
END
Thanks for reading, now PLEASE REVIEW!!!! I wanna know if I should continue on with the ball or skip to an older time! oh yea and the whole Elrond thing, nuttin personal, heck i luv elrond hes one of my fav characters...
A/N- I plan on continuing this through Legolas's childhood to show the father/son relationship thing. I always thought Thranduil was a good non-abusive father who just got a bad rep in the Hobbit. I thought I should just share my opinion in my story.. Please R&R constructive criticism is welcome flames are laughed at. Please enjoy.
*The Father and Son Series: The Shirt*
"NO!" A shrill voice cut the night air like a warm knife through butter. The owner of the voice, a small elven child, burst through the doors opening to his room and made his way rapidly down the hall, pale blond hair streaming behind him. His attendant trailed after him, holding the offending article of clothing that had sent the young prince running.
"You WILL wear this shirt Master Legolas!" The elf maid called to him. While not old, as elves never age, her face showed creases telling years of service raising the heirs to the throne of Mirkwood. Although most were rambunctious, none were as bad as little Legolas. He was impossible, much like his father, Hirith recalled, remembering the trouble the current king had given her when he was only Legolas's age. With a sigh the old elf set off after the young Prince.
She did not have far to go, as she spotted his fair hair sticking out about the foliage of the plant he had sought refuge in.
"Even though you blend in exceptionally well with the foliage, young master, you still stick out like a sore thumb with that hair of yours." The young child stiffened when addressed, pale blue eyes peeping out from behind the foliage. The child began to giggle at his nurse, as if this was some grand joke that only he could comprehend until his eyes fell upon the appalling shirt. The laughter died on his lips, the sight of the evil shirt sending him scampering for a better hiding spot.
"Oh no you don't!" Hirith cried, reaching forward to grab the child before he got free again. Her hands moved to grab his shirt, belatedly realizing the child was topless. Yet another problem to contend with. "Master Legolas it is most improper for young Princes to run around half nude! Do you want people to believe you are a savage?" Hirith realized that rationalizing with Legolas was akin to feeding a troll vegetables. They just didn't go together. Gathering her skirts about her, Hirith set about chasing the young Prince, hoping she was still fast enough to catch the little "cherub". Although the longer this affair lasted the more he looked like a demon to her.
Little Legolas's eyes got as big as saucers as he saw his nurse bearing down on him with hated shirt in tow. He turned and ran as fast as his legs could take him to the one person who could possibly save him from the possessed nurse.
"DADDY!!!" He squealed in his high-pitched voice, the kind that never fail to produce a raging migraine. He burst through the wide, wooden doors that led to his father's chambers. "Daddy help!!!" he cried, knocking over several things as he searched the chambers for sings of his father. Thranduil, King of Mirkwood arrived, long knives in hand ready to defend his youngest offspring. Relief shone on his fair face as he saw his child unharmed and whole.
"Legolas, whatever is the matter?" he asked his youngest son, and perhaps his favorite as well. His other sons would make any father proud, but none had the innocence his youngest had. They had lost their own defending Mirkwood and to their own ambition. But the time to pick the best son would come later, as he had no need to name an heir immediately. Mirkwood was at peace and he felt no need to journey to the west. Rather his immediate concern was to determine the cause of his youngest's panic.
Legolas snuggled up against his father, glad for the attention and physical contact. Thranduil could not help but smile. "Legolas…" He said in just the way that only a parent could do in which a mere name can mean paragraphs of information. In this instance it was a mild warning and a cue for Legolas to tell him what was wrong.
"Ish 'ink." He responded, his words slurred by the layers of robe that he had shoved his head through.
"I'm sorry my little one, but I couldn't quite catch what you said, what with the fabric in the way in all." Legolas removed his head from his father's chest and looked up in his father's face.
"It's pink."
"What was?"
"The shirt. Hiwith said I gotta wear it for the ball but I don't wanna. You won't make me will you Daddy?" Legolas peered anxiously into his father's face. "I'll look like a girl!"
"No, I believe that's Elrond's place in life."
"Who's Elwon?" Legolas asked, intrigued by the idea of an elf who actually wanted to look like the opposite sex. Thranduil laughed.
"He's an…acquaintance of mine and Lord of Imladris. But don't let me taint you! Pass your own judgments on people, and trust your heart."
"Oh." Legolas said, a little disappointed that he wouldn't have the chance to meet a cross-dressing elf. He was about to speak when Hirith burst in, out of breathe and wheezing from the exertion of running. Her easy living inside the palace had not kept her in prime shape.
"Oh, sorry my Lord, I was just trying to fetch Legolas and get him ready for the ball this evening…I had not meant to intrude."
"It's quite alright. However, we do have a problem involving the shirt…Legolas seems to feel it doesn't have the masculine edge he requires." Thranduil said, highly amused with the current situation. He eyed the shirt, no ruffles, no lace and barely the slightest color to it at all. Leave it to Legolas to raise the dead over a pink-hued shirt.
"My Lord, he has no other clean shirts… They are all being washed to get that sap out of them since he has taken to climbing pines." Hirith was looking rather flustered, but Thranduil shook his head and whispered "He must learn a lesson, do not worry so." in her ear. Hirith visibly relaxed, glad not to have offended her liege. Legolas whimpered, his father always told him to listen to his heart and right now it was telling him that he was getting the pink shirt.
"Well, Legolas, you really can't tell the color, and it could be worse!" Hirith offered.
"Think of it as a character building experience." Thranduil added, taking the shirt and helping to put it on Legolas. "And besides no one you know will be there." Hirith held out her hand, ready to lead the Prince back to his chambers to work on his rat's nest of hair.
"But it's pink.." Legolas muttered dejectedly.
"Well then, maybe if you hadn't climbed in the pine trees after I asked you not to you might have some shirts left." Thranduil responded. Legolas looked down. He was wrong and he knew it. Thranduil planted a kiss on his head. " See you at the ball." He called as Hirith led Legolas away.
END
Thanks for reading, now PLEASE REVIEW!!!! I wanna know if I should continue on with the ball or skip to an older time! oh yea and the whole Elrond thing, nuttin personal, heck i luv elrond hes one of my fav characters...