Hey guys!

This was a little birthday drabble I wrote for my friend on Tumblr, Listenpoly. The prompt she gave me was "Legolas, Thranduil and a swingset", so this was the result.

Let's assume that Legolas is about 7 in human years here.

ada=dad

I do not own these characters, nor do I own Middle-earth.

….Greenwood the Great, early Third Age….

"It's only a few more minutes away!"

"Legolas, you have been saying that for the past hour. I do not understand why you won't just tell me what you're dragging me into."

"It's a surprise!"

"Yes, and the last time you said that dreaded sentence, I walked into utter chaos consisting of dirt mounds, uprooted seedlings, a rabid squirrel and various species of insects in my bed chambers."

Legolas looked down for a second, plagued by horrible memories of the time he attempted to create an entire forest ecosystem in his father's room. His father, Thranduil, had always been very fond of nature, and what better way to surprise a forest king than with an actual forest? Unfortunately for Legolas, though, that attempt at a "surprise" actually resulted in what felt like hours of lecturing about why building mini forests was a horrible idea, and how Thranduil was "not mad, just disappointed".

After many more "few more minutes" of walking, the two finally arrived at the destination.

Legolas darted off and threw his arms in the air with an abnormally large grin. His peculiar expression was his own way of honoring the wonderful glory he so happily presented.

Thranduil gave a rather confused head tilt with a not-so-kingly puzzled look on his face. What was Legolas even pointing at? There was absolutely nothing beautiful to marvel at.

"Son, please, do tell me whatever you are trying to show me?" he asked.

The smaller elf's jaw dropped. How on earth could his own father, the king, not be able to comprehend this glorious sight?

Well, to be honest, it wasn't even a site worth cooing over. What Legolas was pointing at was a huge, gnarled old tree with rusty-brown leaves and twisted limbs. This tree was old. Painfully old. In fact, it was so old, it probably forgot how to speak, for Thranduil could not hear any words from the tree but distant, haunting moans.

The Elvenking lifted an eyebrow. "The tree?"

Legolas clasped his hands together and nodded his head with an excited grin.

"You mean to say that you dragged me all the way out here to marvel at a tree? Surely, it is a beautiful life in its own way," he said, trying not to anger the tree (if it could even react), "but there are so many other trees around."

Adults are such strange creatures. Or so, that's what Legolas thought, for Thranduil missed the absolute best part of the knotty old tree: a rather decrepit pair of ropes with a splintery wooden plank attached. Legolas scampered over to the squalorous swing and proudly displayed it to Thranduil.

"A... swing?" Thranduil questioningly said.

Seeing that Thranduil was most certainly not anywhere near impressed, Legolas waved his arms around the swing, as if sunshine and glitter were radiating around it. "Is it not absolutely wonderful? Imagine how much fun it would be to play on it!" Legolas exclaimed.

Of course, if you remember, this hideous swing was on an equally ugly tree, and so, Legolas was most likely the only one who ever thought the blasted thing was "absolutely wonderful" at all.

"I do wonder who put this swing here…" Thranduil wondered. Elflings were scarcely born into the Kingdom, so it couldn't have been from that. Perhaps Thranduil had played here long ago in the days of his own youth? No, of course not, surely that old swing couldn't have lasted this long...

Thranduil's train of thought was interrupted by small hands pushing him towards the swing.

"Legolas, why do you feel the need to push me? That isn't something a prince should be doing."

That last sentence, Legolas thought, was Thranduil's absolute favorite thing to say, ever. He said it all the time, whether he was scolding Legolas for eating too quickly, or shooting play-arrows at the guards, or doing any other un-princely things.

"You need to swing on it!" Legolas encouraged, still attempting to make Thranduil budge the tiniest bit.

Thranduil's eyes inspected the swing. It was so rickety and worn out, it probably couldn't even handle little Legolas's weight, let alone his own. "I truly do not think that is a very good idea, Legolas…"

"But it'll be fun!"

"And I'll probably end up killing myself, or breaking something!"

"But it'll be fun!" Legolas repeated, only with much more emphasis.

Sighing, Thranduil approached the ancient swing and slowly lowered himself onto it, anticipating the ropes to snap.

Well, the ropes didn't snap, but Thranduil's dignity did. There the king sat on the dinky little swing, his knees almost touching his chin. To make matters worse, Legolas gave his best effort to push the swing.

The best way to describe the scene was comical: Mirkwood's finest ruler sitting on a tiny swing with the most miserable expression upon his face, and the young prince about to bust a vein in his head from pushing so hard with no result.

Trying to make Legolas feel somewhat accomplished, Thranduil groaned and shifted his weight forward to give the illusion that Legolas actually managed to push him on the swing.

"Ha! I did it, ada!" Legolas cheered.

"Aye, yes, yes you did, and ada is very proud. How lovely. Praise Eru. Do I have your permission to get off this thing now?"

Legolas gave a small nod, waiting for his turn to sit on what Thranduil called the dreaded swing of utmost humiliation. But just before Thranduil could get off, certain memories flooded back to him. He'd been here before, he knew it. Why was this swing so familiar? The fact that he could not recall a time greatly bothered him.

He looked back to his own adolescent years, trying to remember. Yes, he remembered. This was that one swing that him and a few of his friends from his past used to use. This was that swing where they would laugh and joke together. This is where he'd come to think, and escape the burdens of life for a moment.

This was that swing that him and a beautiful young she-elf used to meet at. Yes, he thought, my wife and I used to come here before we were wed.

Thranduil could've sworn he heard the tree laugh the same way his long-gone friends had. Their carefree laughter before they were taken away into darkness rang through his ears like ghostly messages. The once bright and fearless eyes of long forgotten companions pierced into his chest like a thousand arrows, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

In the midst of the surreal nostalgia, he then heard the soft words of condolence his late queen had once uttered while at this tree flowed out of tree like honey-sweet melodies, burrowing their long-forgotten selves into Thranduil's heart for safekeeping. Wispy songs and phantom laughs caressed his soul, just out of reach.

Instead, he reached out to feel the tree itself. It was once a rather handsome and stately tree, standing proud, strong and tall. But now, it was gnarled and lumpy and weather stained. How sad, he thought, that the tree could change this much. Had it really been this long? Had time really changed the tree this much? Could this really be that tree?

Yes, of course this was the tree. It had to be.

But again, Thranduil's train of thought was interrupted by Legolas nudging him. "Ada, are you okay? Why do you look sad?"

Thranduil snapped himself back into reality. He glanced down at Legolas and cast a rather sad smile. "Yes, I am well, Legolas. I'm just thinking."

Carefully not to break the now-sentimentally treasured ropes, Thranduil got off and helped Legolas climb on them. While Legolas merrily acted as a pendulum on the swing, Thranduil found himself leaning against the tree, caught up in happy yet broken memories of old.

What felt like hours passed by, until Thranduil got back on his feet, telling Legolas that it was getting late, and that the forest wasn't safe to be in at night.

As the two began their quiet stroll home, Thranduil thought some more:

Perhaps Legolas should lead me on more adventures.