"Ada, why are you going to talk to the dwarves?" Legolas asked quietly.
Thranduil smiled at his son, "Oh, dear one. Do you fear that I will take too long and we will have no time to play?"
Legolas shook his head, "No, but Anaril says that dwarves are fearful monsters that breath fire and spit acid and have huge teeth for eating little elflings."
"Does he now?"
The elfling nodded vigorously, "And nana says that they're short and covered all over in hair and smell terrible."
"Ah, nana says that?"
"Yes, and some of the workers down by the river say that they've seen dwarves, also. They say that the dwarves are terrible creatures, skilled in battle wielding weapons bigger than themselves, able to chop small elflings in half in one hit!"
The elf king shook his head in wonder at the little elfling before him. His son had worked himself into such a state of worry that tears were beginning to leak out of his eyes and his little brow was furrowed in fear. "Oh, my son, I must go speak with the dwarves today."
"No, ada!" Legolas shrieked, wrapping his arms firmly around his father's neck.
Thranduil laughed quietly, "Do you think that a warrior such as myself cannot hold my own against these monsters?"
"But they're dangerous."
"I have an idea," Thranduil said as he pulled the fearful elfling away from him, "Come with me and protect me from these monsters, hmm?"
Legolas brightened a bit, "I'll bring my knives and my bow! My ada will not have a better body guard!"
"Go and tidy up, then." Thranduil commanded. "And be quick! Dwarves are impatient creatures."
Legolas dashed off to get ready, and Thranduil could not help but laugh.
When Legolas was ready, the both of them waited in the throne room for the dwarven emissaries. A group of six entered the hall and Thranduil listened patiently to what they had to say, watching his son out of the corner of his eye. Business took some time to conclude, and Legolas had grown weary of standing behind his father's throne and ended up sitting nearby, picking at his clothes.
After the dwarves left, Thranduil asked, "So, what did you think of the dwarves?"
"Everyone was right, ada."
"Oh?"
Legolas nodded and grinned, "They are fearful, they breathe fire and spit acid like Anaril said. But it's their words, isn't it? And they are short and covered in hair and smelly, like nana said. But they aren't monsters at all! They are noble, and honorable, and good! They are skilled warriors, they do wield weapons bigger than themselves, but they wouldn't use them on little elflings, just nasty orcs."
"And so, what have we learned today, my son?"
"Learned, ada?"
"That fear is not always warranted. Sometimes what we fear is not to be feared."
Legolas smiled, "Do we get to play, now?"
"Yes, dear one. Now we may play."