Pregnancy cravings were weird and disruptive things that Bard certainly didn't miss, but if getting a chocolate chip and cherry shake from Sonic would make Celeste happy, then he would do it. Even at three in the morning.
Why is it always three in the morning?
He was downright exhausted, but he pulled on his boots and coat and trudged out into the frigid air without a complaint. After all, he wasn't the one that had a tiny human inside of him demanding food and he certainly wasn't the one that would have to push said human out of a sensitive piece of his anatomy in eight months. So, because of all the pain his wife was sure to go through, he went out and got the nastiness she calls food.
Sigrid wasn't too happy about the cravings either, but the two year old never said a word about it because it meant more time rubbing at her mommy's growing belly. Here lately, once it was explained that there really was a baby in there and Celeste hadn't actually swallowed a watermelon seed, Sigrid had been cuddling up at her mother's side and whispering to her sibling.
It was a cute scene and currently Bard's cellphone wallpaper, made even cuter by the fact that Sigrid had started calling the unborn baby "Bane", though how she came up with that name was beyond him. Even more baffling was the fact that his wife was studiously looking up middle names that would go along with it if the child turned out to be a boy. Personally, Bard was pulling for another little girl that he could wag around with him while grocery shopping.
So here he was, dressed in only his PJs and a pair of worn tennis shoes, only half-awake as he climbs into his truck. There was a moment, just like there was every time this situation arose, where he was tempted to flop over and sleep for six hours, but he forced himself to start the truck and back out of the apartment's parking lot. It wasn't too long a drive to the Sonic in town, but his sleep-deprived mind made it hard to focus on the road.
After what feels like a lifetime of struggling to stay awake, Bard begins the long drive back to the apartment with a vanilla ice cream cone, a peanut butter and strawberry shake, and the biggest cup of Coke that Sonic had to offer. He needed the caffeine if he was expected to stay awake, sipping on it every few seconds.
"Did you get me anything?" Bard shouts at the unexpected voice, briefly losing control of the truck before swerving back into the proper lane. His gaze flicks up the rearview mirror, spotting the pale blonde hair and fair features of Legolas. The boy must have been hiding out in the backseat, his hair mussed and jacket hanging half off his shoulder.
"Where did you come from," Bard demands. The three year old gives him a bright smile, climbing over the backseat so that he was sitting next to Bard.
"Was waitin' on you," Legolas answers, kicking his little feet back and forth. He was dressed in his footsie pajamas, a dark orange with little green dinosaurs printed all over it. Bard frowns instinctively holding an arm over the boy's chest to keep him from sliding around. "You were late t'night, Bard."
"And you will be grounded for life when I drop you off with your ada." Legolas' blue eyes go wide and his lower lip begins to quiver.
"No, I just wanted to ride with you! I swear I won't do it again!" He wraps his pinky around Bards, shaking it for emphasis. "Pinky promise, I swear!"
"Alright, I'll just sneak you inside."
"Can I eat wif you first?" He's adopted a sly smile now, looking far too much like his father for comfort. There was no way Thranduil could deny his son, they were practically clones of each other. With a sigh, Bard gives in to the look and nods his head.
The rest of the ride passed with Legolas chattering excitedly, continuing to do so as they got out and started inside Bard's apartment. The chattering, however adorable it was, came to a halt the second they entered the bedroom. There were three people reclined in the room and three sets of eyes locked onto the pair as they stopped in the doorway, one of them a pale blue.
"Uh oh."
"Bard, I would appreciate some warning before you take my son for ice cream this late," Thranduil says, his voice hard and unforgiving. Bard flinches at the sound of it, wondering if it was too late to hide under the bed and hope they all go away.
"In my defense," he states instead," your son popped up out of my backseat like some kind of dandelion."
