Hi!
This is the second installment in our story!
Note before we begin here: The Elvish words Elleer and Elleeramin mean "little one" and "my little one." "Atara" means mother.
And Carrie says: Have you people forgotten how to review? Let's refresh: After you read, move mouse down to "Go" button right next to "Submit a review." It isn't that difficult, guys! I'm being nice here—I'm posting, even though I'm not satisfied with you. =D So make us happy, okay? REVIEW! It's not that hard. And thank you to those who DID review!
*gives them all hugs, and shoots death glare at lurkers*
Cheesypuff: *to be said in Gollum hiss* Tricksy reviewer! You lied to us! Hee hee. "Tricksy" has become my all time favorite word after seeing TTT. LOL. But that gave me—don't know about Emmithar, heh heh—a VERY good laugh. Glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for the charm! *grin* Now we need one to pull in the lurkers, and make them review!
Tenshiamanda: So glad you enjoyed it! Here's the next chapter. =D
And now, on with the story.
(All disclaimers on Chapter One. Too lazy to write them all over again. Oh, and Emmithar—I put in a please note after the disclaimer, which said that all unrecognizable names belong to us, which means the characters we made up! *grin*)
The room had a soft glow, lit by the fires in the pits that were in the main room. Legolas sighed quietly as he entered the room. The sun had long since set and the young Elfling was beginning to feel fatigue building up inside him.
His mother already sat up on the couch, an open book in her lap. Feaear smiled, glancing up at her son as he wandered in, drawing his small fingers along the pale wall. She let him doodle imaginary designs on the wall for a moment before calling out to him. "Come here Legolas, what troubles you so?"
Legolas didn't wait for a second invitation, and quickly crawled into the open lap. "It's not fair," he stated, his voice becoming muffled as he buried his head into the silky warm robes of his mother's nightclothes. He too was dressed in a soft blue-silver tunic for the night. His mother placed the book down to the side and wrapped her hands around her son, rocking him lightly.
"What isn't fair Elleer?" she asked tenderly, rubbing his back in small circles.
Legolas relaxed under the soothing love-filled touch. "The other kids made fun of me," he whispered, now feeling somewhat sheepish for acting so young.
Feaear smiled softly, realizing what teasing could do to others, especially one so young as Legolas, who had just turned five a few months ago. "What did they say?"
"They said I was small," he meant to continue but was interrupted when his mother laughed slightly.
"But you are small Elleeramin. That should not bother you. You will grow."
Legolas gave a heavy sigh, "I know, but. . .I just don't like them calling me small."
Feaear hugged him tightly, "It doesn't matter, you'll always be big in my heart. Look," she told him, pointing to the corner table. On top of it stood a beautiful silver vase filled with lilacs that were now beginning to wilt. "It seems as if we need new flowers for the vase. Are you going to help me pick some tomorrow?"
Legolas nodded eagerly, a smile bursting on his face as he forgot what had happened earlier. For as long as he could remember, he and his mother had picked the purple flowers from the forest, placing them in the old vase. His mother loved the gentle aroma the flowers gave off, and he too had become fond of it. Sometimes walking in the forest he would smell the sweet scent, and instantly think of his mother.
"That's good," Feaear responded, smiling at his enthusiasm as she retrieved the book. "Now, how about some stories?"
~*~*~
Time had passed and the room now lay silent, save for the soft breathing of Legolas who now lay asleep in his mother's lap. Feaear still read on, caught up in the writing, but she looked up as Thranduil entered the room.
He smiled as he sat down besides the two of them. Leaning over carefully he planted a small kiss on his wife's cheek. "How is he?" Thranduil asked quietly, not wanting to wake him up. He had heard what had happened earlier.
Feaear nodded, placing the book down. "He's fine, but you should had been there for him."
Thranduil gave a sigh, guilt pulling at his heart. He nodded, but Feaear continued.
"He admires you verno' [Husband], but he needs to know that he can count on you as a father. He needs to know that you'll be there for him. That's what's important to him."
Thranduil sighed heavily. Feaear always knew how to find a way to dig a deeper wound. "Amin hiraetha melamin [I'm sorry my love]."
She smiled slightly as she stroked her son's soft hair. "He looks a lot like you," she whispered, turning her eyes back to her husband.
"Úma ro uma, nan' ro naa vanima, ve' lle naa [Yes he does, but he is beautiful, like you]."
Feaear blushed slightly as Thranduil leaned over once again and kissed her gently. He broke away when a quiet sigh escaped from Legolas' lips as he snuggled closer to his mother.
"I better get him off to bed," she informed as she began to rise. Thranduil placed a hand on her shoulder as he stood up.
"I'll take him, you stay here."
She eyed him carefully. "Are you sure?"
Thranduil laughed quietly as he carefully drew his son up in his arms. "Yes, you stay here, I'll be back soon."
Finally, Feaear smiled as she gave in to her husband's want. "Just be careful, I don't want to wake him."
She watched him leave the room, disappointment hanging slightly in her heart. She had always tucked Legolas in at night, and it felt strange not doing so tonight. She smiled softly, picking up her book and reading from where she had left off
~*~*~
[Lift your spirits, set them free
Someday you'll walk tall with pride.]
A gentle breeze blew through the trees, playing with the fresh leaves hanging overhead. The brown woven basket lay on the ground besides Feaear's feet as gently pulled the flowers from the ground, placing them in the basket.
Legolas worked beside her, sitting on his knees as he worked to pull the flowers out. The flowers that he picked were easy to spot, for the pedals were wrinkled and torn, and the stems bent, but Feaear said nothing of it, giving her son a warm smile and a gentle nod to let him know that he was doing well.
Legolas enjoyed the morning. It was the time of the day where the sun greeted you with a warm smiling face, and the birds slowly began to wake. He could often hear Elven voices singing sweet melodies on the wind. Sometimes his mother would sing a song that he knew, so he too could sing along. Though his voice wasn't as clear or gentle as his mother's, she would smile and remind him that he too would sing just as beautiful when he got older.
"Maybe even more beautiful than I," she told him, placing the bundle of flowers in the basket.
Legolas shook his head, smiling. "No one can sing better than you."
Feaear lifted her eyes so that they met her son's. "I don't know about that my son, but I do know who is best at being ticklish."
Legolas quickly stood already knowing what his mother was planning to do. With a quick turn he made his way through the forest, but his mother was quicker, and he soon found himself being lifted off the ground and turned upside down so that his long golden hair swept across the forest floor. "Whom do we have here?" she wondered out loud.
"No one!" Legolas cried out giggling.
"Well, he's certainly noisy for no one," she mused, and with that she began to tickle him unmercifully, choking out fits of laughter from the young Elfling.
"Stop!" Legolas finally managed to cry, gasping for breath, "What kind of devilry is this?"
Feaear laughed, flipping her son up so that he now was sitting in her arms right side up. "Oh Legolas, amin mela lle [I love you]."
Legolas wrapped his small arms around his mother's neck and returned, "Amin ta atara [Me too, mother.] "
Feaear smiled. She could never express how much she loved her son and husband. Suddenly Legolas pushed away.
"I'm hungry mother," he stated.
She nodded. "Yes, it is close to breakfast time isn't it. Well let us make haste so we won't miss it. Come with me and help me carry the flowers."
~*~*~
It was late evening and Feaear sat with her back resting against a tree. She gave a sigh, closing her eyes. Spending the day with her young eager son had worn her out. They were in the midst of playing hide and seek, and Legolas had gone off to hide. She knew where he had hidden himself, and after a brief rest, she would go and fetch him.
Her idea however did not work out as planned. The silence was broken by the excited shouts of her son as he raced toward her, breathless.
"Atara! Come quickly!" he cried, flames of excitement dancing in his eyes.
"What is it Elleeramin?" she asked, shaking her head in wonderment at how much energy her young son had.
"Archers! I saw the archers. Oh mummy, please come. And hurry, they might leave!" Legolas cried, latching onto her arm.
"Alright, alright my son. Settle down. We will get there in time." Indeed they would, she thought as they made their way through the forest. Today was the Archery contest and Legolas had always adored it. Though still young to learn, Legolas had constantly asked if he could begin his training.
Sure enough there were many archers lined up, ready to take their turn in hopes of winning the prize, which was fine jewels from the King. Little did they know that they were jewels that Thranduil no longer cared for.
Once there, Legolas' demeanor changed, and he shrank behind his mother as some of the archers passed by. One of them stopped and bowed before Feaear.
"Good evening my lady. What might bring you here?" he asked gently.
"Nothing more than a bit of curiosity from a pair of young eyes," she replied softly, glancing down at her young son who still hid shyly behind her.
The elder Elf smiled and knelt down so that he wouldn't intimidate the young prince with his height. "Ah, what a pleasant surprise. And how blessed are we to have the young prince watching us today. Are you ready to see some fine shooting young one?"
Legolas nodded, slowly drawing out from his hiding place. "I'm going to learn how to shoot one day," he informed him timidly.
The Elf laughed, "Yes little one, and I bet you'll be one of the best too," he added, before standing up and leaving.
Legolas looked up at his mother with a questioning gaze. "Who was that mother?"
Feaear smiled down at him, "That was Arrcryliss, son of Hafferrou. He is friends with your father."
Legolas nodded as the two of them took a seat near a tree prepared to watch the tournament as evening slowly turned into night. Legolas watched with great interest, shouting with joy as each archer did better than the last. When the tournament was over, Feaear found herself carrying back a half-asleep elf child in her arms.
Back inside, she helped her son struggle into his nightclothes, and tucked him into his bed. Legolas lay his heavy head on the pillow, his tired eyes watching his mother as she sang an old lullaby to him.
"Atara?" he questioned quietly.
His mother nodded, allowing him to continue.
"When can I learn to shoot?" he asked, his small voice tinged with hope.
"Well, I suppose sometime soon. . ."
"Tomorrow?" he asked excitedly.
Feaear laughed, "I do not know. Perhaps you can ask your father."
Legolas shook his head turning away so that she could not see the slight fear that hid in the depths of his eyes, "He might get mad at me," he murmured. Feaear smiled, brushing the hair from his face. She placed a hand on his cheek, redirecting his gaze so that his eyes locked with hers.
"Oh Legolas. I don't think he will," but she could see that her son was just as stubborn as her husband was. "How about this: I will ask him for you, on one condition."
"What?" Legolas inquired, wearing a slightly suspicious expression upon his young face.
"I will only ask him if you promise me that you will work harder at your lessons."
Legolas pouted for a moment and folded his arms. He knew that his mother was disappointed in him about how his mind seemed to stray during the lessons, but he could not help it. They were so long and boring. "Can't I do something else?" he wondered, a pleading tone in his voice.
Feaear shook her head. "If this is something you really desire, you're going to have to work for it my son. You can't just get whatever you want."
"Why?" he tilted his head to the side as he questioned her once again.
She smiled, chuckling lightly. "Because Legolas, that's the way things are. I'm beginning to have a feeling that I've spoiled you too much. Your father warned me of that. But the choice is yours. If you really want to learn…"
"Oh I do mummy, I really, really do!" Legolas cut in excitedly.
"Then you have to work for it," she finished, as if she had never been interrupted in the first place.
Sighing, he replied, "Okay, atara."
"Good," she answered, smiling.
With that she kissed his forehead and tucked him in, leaving her son to his dreams as she headed down the hall towards Thranduil's study.
TBC
Now go, review! I command you! I may not be so nice about the post next time…..
