Part One of my 'The Strength of Silence Series'

For the most part, Legolas grew and developed as any other elven baby might have. He began to walk at six months, starting off a little wobbly for several weeks before gaining proper balance. By eight months, he could participate in the dancing held at feasts and celebrations, even if he was a little slow to pick up on new or particularly fast moves. He smiled, laughed, and could understand perfectly whatever was being said to him. But despite this, even after he turned a year old, Legolas had yet to speak his first words.

At first Thranduil was not very concerned. After all, no matter what race or species, babies grew and developed at their own pace. Even if elven babies typically reached their milestones well before human babies did, there was never a time set in stone for such a thing. His baby was clearly very intelligent, and so his silence was no cause for true worry.

But one year soon grew into two years. During Legolas' second year upon Middle Earth, much had happened. With the death of the queen, the entire kingdom of Greenwood was stricken with unfathomable grief for many months. The fact that his son had still not uttered a single word out loud was the last thing on the king's mind.

By the third year, however, the king's concern grew for his little son.

"Legolas," he crooned, brushing back the elfling's silky light hair. "Don't you want to say something? Can you tell your ada good morning?"

Legolas smiled up at his father, one thumb tucked securely behind his teeth.

Thranduil gently removed the thumb. "Come now my little leaf. Say 'good morning Ada'."

The king knew that his son understood him, but all Legolas did was let out a small hum as he reached out to pat his father's cheek with one hand. But alas, if the king could not get his son to speak, then nobody else within Greenwood would be able to either. Not Legolas' nursemaids, tutors, or any others within the woodland realm.

The day after Legolas turned four, the elven-king found himself writing to Lord Elrond, who as a renowned healer might have some answers. Even after writing the letter, it was left sitting on Thranduil's table for many weeks. He found himself feeling rather self-conscious, because revealing such a fact about his child to someone outside of Greenwood felt like unveiling a weakness. Perhaps they would think that Thranduil had failed as a parent, and-

The king shook his head of such thoughts. He was being ridiculous, really, and for Legolas' sake he needed answers.

Unfortunately the Lord of Imladris had no definite answers, and the reasons he suggested were ones that Thranduil had already thought of himself: Perhaps losing his mother at such an early age had caused a stunt in his vocal development, or perhaps Legolas was merely born mute (but he could laugh and make noises with his throat just fine, Thranduil argued with himself). Besides, who had ever heard of an elf that was born mute?

Elrond had also inquired about Legolas' hearing abilities, which were just fine. His elfling could point, wave, and follow directions just fine. He did not lack any sense of understanding communication. His receptive sense of speech was just fine, it was only his vocal sense that lacked.

Even if he could not come up with a valid reason as to why Legolas was not speaking, Elrond still had a few helpful suggestions. He encouraged that Legolas be read to quite often, and that everyday he still be drawn into conversation that would require answers. The more vocal people could be with Legolas, the better.

Therefore, Thranduil did his best to follow through with these suggestions. He informed the staff that if the elfling was nearby, then they were to attempt to have a conversation with him. As wood-elves, books (especially ones designed for children) were rather scarce and unneeded, but Legolas' tutors still gave him lessons and read to him from learning primers. And every night, of course, Thranduil would sit under the stars with Legolas in his lap and tell him stories or sing to him softly.

It was at five years when things changed, at least on Thranduil's part.

"This is just ludicrous," the elven-king decided one day during a walk through the forest with his son, who skipped ahead happily as he hugged the trees and picked flowers from the forest floor. "Words are just words, and they mean nothing. If Legolas cannot speak, then that is how it shall remain. He is still just as perfect as can be."

Yes, absolutely perfect, the king thought to himself as Legolas came back to give him a fistful of flowers. He reached down for his son, picking up the small elfling and resting him against his hip.

"I love you Legolas," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the child's temple. "Ada loves you so much."

After that day, Thranduil let go of the worries he had felt for his son. Perhaps Legolas would never speak out loud, but he spoke enough with his eyes and actions. There was no need to fret so much over such a magnificent child.

What do you guys think? Would you like me to add the second (more longer) part?