There were very few things Legolas took more delight in than successfully startling his father and noticing that he had gotten into his father's bedroom without waking him brought a wicked grin to his face. Strategically as to not jar his injured arm he ran and leapt onto Thranduil's bed.

The king woke with a small gasp followed immediately infectious laughter, "You are a rotten elfling, did you know that? You're going to kill me one day."

"Call me what you will, but just remember you are the one who raised me so ultimately I'm your fault."

"No, this sort of behavior I blame on Galion, he has poisoned your mind."

"I'm telling him you said that."

Thranduil glared at his son, "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night and you should be in the healing ward still."

"Its midnight and it's your birthday. I stole you cake."

The king had genuinely no idea it was his birthday, but somehow Legolas always did. It was difficult to consider them important after having over seven thousand of them, "You should still be in the healing ward."

Legolas looked at him with big round eyes, "Fine, if you don't enjoy my company I will leave. And you can spend your birthday alone, while I sit wasting away in a bed-"

"I wasn't going to make you leave."

The wide eyes were replaced with a wicked grin, "I knew my own father wouldn't give me away. But we should probably find somewhere else to be while we eat the cake."

Thranduil looked at him suspiciously, "Why?"

"Once she realizes I am no longer in bed, where do you think the first place Rowen herself will check for me."

Motivated by the slight twinge of terror at the prospect of the head healer finding her wayward charge in his care Thranduil quickly climbed out of bed, "Perhaps a walk?"

"Outside."

"Away from the windows."