Slight Thranduil obsession. Forgive me but there are too few good fics out there about our favourite dwarf racist party king, so here goes nothing :)
The peaceful and psychedelic Mirkwood was pierced by a scream, followed by a series of cries of an infant.
The sound emanated slowly, flowing softer and then escalating again until the Elf King strode into the birthing room.
" My love!" He exclaims, dashing to reach his beloved who was now covered in a glimmering sheen of perspiration and holding a tiny little thing in the green blanket in her arms. She smiled, she was so very tired.
"My Legolas.." She coos to her awaiting husband, handing the infant over to his proud father.
His mind flowed back to how he got that name.
In the midst of labour, the Queen arched her back, and let out a feral scream. Her husband tries to push through the nurses and healers, only to be stopped.
"Legolas!" She screeches, clenching her fists as she twitches upon the sweat dampened sheets of her bed.
"My love! Oh, let me in now. She's my wife!"
"No, my king, you will put her into more stress, you musn't interfere in women's affairs with their child rearing." The healer at the door insisted, shoving King Thranduil out the narrow vine-decorated doorway.
"But the name Legolas is already taken my love!" Thranduil reminds from the door, for it was tradition for the child to be named in the midst of birth so that the father would be the first to call him by that name. Of course, knowing the rebellious and young King, he wanted his wife to name their child.
"LEGOLAS." She yells towards the doorway at her husband with a slightly crazed look. The king was slightly intimidated, he had never seen a woman so wild, of course, then he was in pain too, for he loved her so much that he bore her pain as well. A tear escapes his eye.
Turning to avoid the gaze of his staff, naturally, the observant queen took note.
I must not dissapoint him. I must be strong. Oh, do come out already my child! Can't you see your mother is in pain?! OUT.
She thought to herself.
One last push, and one estranged cry, she bore down hard, and gave birth to the descendant of the great woodland realm.
Mirkwood buzzed with news of their little princling moments after the child breathed his first breath.
"Bless you, my lord." The servants filed out of the room with the bloodied sheets and their towels and herbs.
Once the royal couple was left alone, Thranduil turned to embrace the weary mother.
" You've done a great service for the Woodlands Realm, and I thank you on behalf of our people. I thank you for bearing my heir." He whispers into her ear, placing light kisses on her earlobes.
She smiled.
"Welcome to our world, my lovely, perfect little greenleaf." He whispers to his child before placing the boy into his cradle. He too, fell asleep; whether from the sheer trauma of hearing his mother scream or from the onslaught of new information his budding brain recieved, no one can be quite sure. What we can be sure of however, is that he would become a wonderful, kind and powerful ruler.
