Disclaimer: Don't own LOTR.
A/N: This is SLASH! Er…rather, pre-slash. Well, Estel is a toddler in this story and Legolas is an infatuated child, equivalent to the human age of around 4-6. They may act somewhat different since I don't have much experience with children, so I'm basically guessing here on behavior here.
This story came from my twin desires to see Estel as the younger, more vulnerable one in the pairing (which he IS) and also to see a cute story with Legolas and Estel as youngsters.
Also, I guess I should warn people that this is an AU, which means that yes, I know Legolas was most likely at least a few hundred years old when Estel was a toddler and that yes, I acknowledge that Arwen was not there during Estel's childhood, I just conveniently choose to ignore those facts :)
Um…this story may or may not continue depending on demand, but really I just wanted to see a story like this done. If anyone wants it to continue or has a funny suggestion on what they want to see happen please review or email me and I'll see what I can do :)
So, enough talking and on with the story…
As the Crown Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas had always had the most beautiful things in life. During his infanthood, his swaddling clothes had been custom tailored by the royal tailor in accordance with the latest court trends and, as a child, the mithril circlet which rested upon his head was the result of months of meticulous fittings.
So it was no surprise that now, as the entourage from Mirkwood trotted into Rivendell, his trained eye immediately focused in on the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld.
"Ai, Ada, what is that?" Legolas breathed, clutching at his mare's chestnut mane as he leaned further attempting to catch another glimpse of it.
Thranduil turned from where he had been conversing with Ilyatur, his advisor, to frown at his son who was hanging partially off his pony in a decidedly un-princelike manner.
"Legolas, please, adjust your posture. We are nearly at the gates of Imladris and it will not do for Lord Elrond to think us ill-mannered, which he surely will if he sees our crown prince acting so ungracefully."
"But father, I want to know what that is!" Legolas pouted as he pointed at the figure in the distance.
Ah, Arwen Undomiel... Of course his son would only be interested in the one who was rumored to be the most beautiful Elven maiden since Luthien herself. Thranduil chuckled to himself as he thought of how he could torment Elrond with possible betrothal discussions, though inwardly he shuddered at the thought of being related to the human-loving half-elf.
"Quiet, Legolas. You'll find out when we arrive," Thranduil said to his eager son.
Legolas pouted but followed his father's instructions. He considered whining a bit as that usually worked to get what he wanted, but instead he urged his mare on faster, eager to find out for himself what the strange, beautiful creature was. Hopefully, it was not an ainu, one of those ethereal beings that graced Middle-Earth only briefly before vanishing. He worried, though, that that was indeed what the creature was, as he had never heard tell of anything so beautiful before.
Estel smiled up at Arwen and held out his arms, begging to be carried. Arwen's gazed adoringly down at her little foster brother, the sleeves of his robe had fallen back to reveal his perfectly minute hands, his tiny fingers stretching for her to pick him up. How cruel it was of her to deny him what he wished…
"No, Arwen," Elrond managed to keep the amusement out of his voice as he reprimanded his daughter, whose resolve he could sense was quickly crumbling, "He is nearly three and must learn that he will not always be carried like an infant."
Arwen quickly raised her arms from where they had been stooping to pick up her baby brother, but turned to her father, ready to protest. Luckily for Elrond, Glorfindel, who could sense an argument approaching, acted hastily to prevent it; after all, it would not do for representatives of Rivendell to appear anything less than magnificently regal.
Reaching into his robe pockets, he found what he was looking for and pressed the hard cherry candy into Arwen's hand. He had had some made for Estel just this morning, knowing how much the child adored anything he was able to suck on.
Smiling gratefully at the blonde elf, Arwen leaned down to feed the candy to her brother before her father could stop her.
"There, Estel, and I promise I will carry you later," she said, delicately unwrapping the candy from its wrapper and placing it in Estel's waiting mouth.
Looking at her brother's contented expression as he happily sucked on the candy, she couldn't resist gathering him in her arms for a small, impromptu hug, before sending a defiant look at Elrond, as if daring him to stop her.
Sighing, Elrond turned his eyes away from his daughter to gauge the progress of the approaching company. Truthfully, he was himself guilty of doting on the child, as was the whole of Rivendell. Every shipment from Dale contained at least a dozen toys specially ordered for the child. And the tiny edan's collection of hand embroidered robes from the many maidens of Rivendell rivaled even Arwen's wardrobe. He could hardly blame them though; it truly was a delightful sight to see Estel's lips turn up in his shy smile and certainly even serious Erestor's heart melted when that petite hand grabbed his and bestowed a soft kiss on his cheek…
Oh, Estel would simply love his ada's latest gift. It was a treehouse he had commissioned to be built in the child's favorite Oak. He had sent Erestor just that morning to inspect that it was safe. He knew how much Estel loved the trees and longed to be able to stay in them like an Elf. Estel was such a loving child. Despite all the gifts he received, Elrond knew that his sweet Estel would never turn into a spoiled brat like some other children…
Groaning inwardly, Elrond removed his indulgent gaze from Estel to glance shrewdly into the distance at the approaching party from Mirkwood and, more specifically, their crown prince. The last time he had met the child had been some years ago, but he could not help feeling that a millennia would not be long enough. Although a mere toddler at the time, the boy had managed to upset half his staff and somehow found and spilled red wine on the rarest book in his library. Wine! What a toddler had been doing with wine was beyond his comprehension. Though now older, and supposedly more mature, Elrond knew for a fact that the royal house of Mirkwood did not age gracefully, and subsequently he was not looking forward to this meeting at all.
Lost in his thoughts, Elrond was taken slightly by surprise as he found the entire Mirkwood entourage before him, waiting patiently for a greeting. Gracefully he slipped into his role as diplomat.
"Welcome, my brothers. It has been much too long since our last meeting with our woodland kin…"
It was still there! Now that he was able to see it from a close distance, Legolas could see that it was truly even more beautiful than he had first thought. He itched to get down and examine it for himself, but he waited until the adults were safely engaged in conversation before slipping surreptitiously from his pony.
The rest of the elves had converged on the open patio, but the enchanting
creature was standing near one of the columns, gazing at the swirls of pink and
amber on the marble floor forlornly.
Legolas softly made his way over to where it was, still afraid that if he made too much noise it would spirit away. Once there, he frowned. The creature was staring at the floor and seemed to refuse to acknowledge his presence. That would not do at all.
Gently, he slid his hand under its chin and lifted its face up. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Long, dark lashes framed the most impossibly silver eyes he had ever seen. His own mithril circlet felt dull by comparison. Legolas moved his gaze down from the exquisite eyes to its mouth. The lower lip was currently stuck out a bit in a pout, but that only served to impress on Legolas exactly how perfect that mouth was, like the carved statue of Luthien Tinuviel in the courtyard of his palace. The tiny prince could smell a faint scent of cherry coming from that enticing mouth and he frowned at the small syrup trail marring the creature's perfect lip. Nothing should sully such pristine beauty. Leaning forward, he decided to lick it off.
Estel was not having a good day. First, his Ada had not had time to sing his good morning song as was their custom. Then, he had been forced to walk all the way up to the outside patio in robes which caused him to trip over his own tiny feet every few steps, and when he arrived, Arwen had refused to pick him up. Finally, he had been offered some solace in the form of cherry candy, and a squeeze had knocked it from his mouth. It was all too much for the two, nearly three, year-old.
Caught up in mourning the premature death of his candy, he barely registered that there was a strange, small elf in front of him before he felt a warm object moving across his lip. So he did the only thing that came naturally to him in this situation. He sucked on it.
"…Yes, I think Legolas might be developing a bit of a crush on Arwen. Perhaps marriage discussions should be part of our councils tomorrow," Thranduil smirked at Elrond, fully knowing how much it irked the half-elf.
Elrond gave a strained smile and barely managed to avoid shuddering at the thought of being related to the arrogant king.
"Speaking of the little…," Elrond choked on the next word, "angel. Where is he? I have not seen him."
Frowning, Thranduil realized that he had not seen his son either since they had arrived. Quickly, he glanced around the landscape, searching for the flash of blond hair that was signified his son's presence. He soon found it.
His next words caused the Valar to seriously consider withholding the gift of speech from the next generation of elves.
"LEGOLAS, GET YOUR TONGUE OUT OF THAT BOY'S MOUTH!"
When a removal was not immediately forthcoming, he quickly strode over and forcibly yanked his son from the other boy, pausing only to glare intensely at the edan, who was again mourning his loss of something to suck on.
"What kind of little slut are you raising, Elrond?!" the outraged King of Mirkwood yelled.
There was a gasp from Arwen as she raced to cover Estel's ears and an answering roar from the equally outraged Lord of Rivendell.
"Keep your perverted son away from my child!"
This was immediately expanded upon by Elrohir.
"Simply because all the maidens in Mirkwood resemble representatives from the uglier spectrum of orcs, your son does not have the right to come here and molest my baby brother!"
Elladan, of course, was not one to be left out of a conversation.
"If that little demon of Morgoth touches my brother again, I personally shall ensure that my chamber pot will be the next king of your blasted realm!"
Their words were backed up by Glorfindel, who stood and brandished his twin knives menacingly, the sun glinting off their well-polished blades. Of course, this gave an excuse for the entire Mirkwood entourage to display their own motley assortment of knives, bows, and swords. In seconds, the well-meaning diplomatic meeting had turned into a miniature reenactment of the Battle of Dagorlad.
By the side of the party, quite forgotten as he was the only elf not waving a weapon or yelling obscenities, poor Erestor, advisor to Lord Elrond, simply gave a long-suffering sigh. Why he had decided to come to this doomed meeting instead of staying in the nice, cozy, and above all, peaceful, treehouse, he would never know.