A/N: To answer anyone's scornful questions (which thankfully have been left unspoken until this point), I don't know if this will have any romance. I don't want this to be a Mary Sue, or a cliche OC insert. Please tell me if you think I will run the risk of doing that, so I can revise. Thanks!
Elves were well known to be patient, wise, calm creatures among those learned in their ways, and while many among the elves proved this long-known epithet true, there were a select few among whom such traits were relatively well hidden by the mirth of unending childishness.
"Ai, Estel, must you always do this to us?"
The voice was fair, a gentle cry of mirth rising to the heavens, and with a delighted squeal of laughter a small child darted down a flowing path, his short legs a stilted blur amidst the crisp fallen leaves strewn about like scarlet snowflakes on the stone. A pair of tall elves strode along behind him, their steps easy and light, an effortless match to the scramble the young boy was making. Every few paces the little boy would pause, breathless with laughter, and immediately the two elves pursuing him would stop in their tracks and puff out their cheeks, pretending to be extraordinarily tired until the child turned back around and scampered off again, giggling over the apparent speed he possessed compared to his elven caretakers. Only then would they straighten themselves up and flit lightly towards their adopted brother, smiling in paroxysms of benevolent love.
Suddenly, the little boy turned around the curling corner of a nearby stone building and disappeared from their line of sight. The twin elves started in surprise and sped up the faintest amount, hurrying to catch the child in their sight once again. Yet when they rounded the corner, coming up underneath the high silver awning with as much grace as could be mustered, the young boy was gone from the open hall.
"Elrohir, I think I shall fault you if Estel manages to avoid his bath again."
The younger of the two twins gifted his brother with a dark look, a scowl on his face and a curse on his teeth.
"You were in fact the one who suggested that we may enjoy a walk before the little one's bath." Elrohir reminded his twin with a touch of testy impatience. Elladan merely smiled back at him and leapt forward, racing down the long hall with barely a glance back.
"And you were the one who suggested that the walk become a race." He countered smoothly, at ease now that the blame had been squarely delivered onto his brother's shoulders. Elrohir groaned.
"Ada will blame us both." He sighed, springing lightly after his brother. Elladan only sped up. The last time that Elrond had scolded them for mishandling their human brother, their ear tips had been as scarlet as the leaves on the ground for near three weeks.
Up on the silvered awning, Estel laughed and giggled to himself as his elder brothers ran off in search of him, then turned round to face the third elf who held his chubby waist between secure fingers.
"We tricksed my bwothers!" he cheered, causing this newer elf to smile, a glint of mischief in his bright eyes.
"Aye, that we did." He said slyly, standing and picking the small boy up in his arms. "And now, off to the baths with you, Estel!"
The dark-haired toddler froze, then began to squirm valiantly.
"No. I don't wanna!" he said stubbornly. "Lemme go, lemme go!"
The bright-eyed elf leapt nimbly into the branches of a nearby tree and swung effortlessly down to the ground despite the weight of the little boy on his hip, a light shining from the smile still dawning cheerily on his youthful face.
"Now, Estel, you do want to play with bubbles, yes? And think how surprised your brothers would be when they return from all their tiresome searching to find you as clean as the water of the Bruinen!" he asked, darting through several nearby doorways as he made his way to the small child's room. Estel went still then, pouting slightly, but nodded into the elf's soft, fine hair, curiously touching the pale gold braids with his pudgy baby fingers. Many of the elves whom he passed on his way to the little boy's room smiled at the pair, nodding respectfully as the Woodland Prince passed them by with long strides.
"Thranduilion." Some murmured, their tones quiet enough to be of no disturbance to the small child balanced on the prince's hip, and he nodded discreetly back to them, still speaking to Estel in rapid Sindarin. It wouldn't do for the little one to be enticed by the thought of playing elsewhere when he'd just been coaxed into bathing. Yet the Valar had chosen to take pity on the Sindar prince and he arrived at Estel's nursery with no trouble, delivering the small boy into his foster father's waiting arms with a relieved smile.
"Lord Elrond, I seem to have discovered an errant son of yours." He declared, holding Estel out to the wise Noldor by the waist. Estel squealed and grasped at the front of the prince's earthy tunic, laughing all the while.
"No, Leg'las, no!" he pleaded, giggling. "Ada's gonna be mad! Ada's gonna be mad because I los' my bwothers!"
Elrond pretended to be quite beside himself for just a moment, and he stared sternly down at the little boy, his lips twitching upwards.
"Estel, do you mean to say that you have misplaced Elladan and Elrohir again?" he asked, exchanging a highly amused glance with the blonde elf currently attempting to detach the human child's little fingers from the front of his tunic. "Ai, child, I have told you that your brothers need looking after, and yet you always do this."
Estel burst into shrieks of laughter as Elrond gathered him up into a strong grasp, rescuing the struggling prince from his wayward adopted child.
"Ah well. Into the bath with you!" Elrond said, his tone mock-angry. Then he turned to Legolas, his wise grey twinkling with mixed mirth and thanks.
"I fear I must thank you for your aid before welcoming you into my halls, Legolas." He said softly, and blonde elf shook his head, laughing.
"It is always a pleasure to greet such a happy child, Lord Elrond." Legolas replied, the laughter on his face not yet dying away. "I confess I went straight for him once I heard his voice!"
Elrond smiled back, once again reminded that Legolas had been an elfling himself just shy of two millennia ago, and that he still carried that effervescent youth bubbling in the light of his face. Despite the darkness of Greenwood the Great – better known as Mirkwood as of late – and the renowned skill which the young prince was said to have with a bow and blade, he still remained brimming with gaiety. It was a feat which few elves in the darkening times could match. With this in mind Elrond sent the prince on his way, bidding him to rest and revive himself, for to make the journey from Thranduil's palaces in Greenwood to the lush valley of Rivendell was no small feat with orcs freely roaming over the emptier lands.
He himself had a difficult task to complete.
"Estel, it's bathtime."
"But Ada!"
It took very little time for Legolas to find the room in which Elrond had doubtless given him for the duration of his stay in Rivendell, and without the faintest traces of exhaustion he settled himself onto the bed, gazing out the wide window at the gnarled oak beside the curtains. A faint smile tinged his lips into cheer as the tree whispered words of joyful greeting to him, relishing that a Wood-elf had come to speak with the forest at long last. He reached through the glassless window, rubbing the fresh grey bark of the tree, and murmured words to it, enjoying the easy conversation as one of life's simplest pleasures. The tree informed him in its slow manner of all the sorts of birds who took refuge in the old branches, including a series of scalding comments about the nature of the feathered creatures that relieved themselves on its bark. Legolas found himself grinning widely, and with the politest of thanks to the old tree he sat up and proceeded to cleanse himself from the grime and dust of his travels in the adjoining bathroom.
Some minutes later he had once again dressed, this time in a plain brocade tunic of cheerful pale green embroidered with glistening silver, a sheathed dagger riding the belt at his waist, the mithril crown of Greenwood left abandoned on the table by his bedside. He glanced at it with a spark of worry in his gaze, but the distance between he and his father had grown in the most recent of years, and he no longer wished to proclaim his birth to every elf he met. It was not his father's fault that the distance had grown, but rather the fault of the circumstance which had deemed that Legolas's talent as a warrior was necessary for the survival of Greenwood. Thranduil had already lost his wife, so losing his eldest child would be the finishing blow. Thus the father and son had allowed the distance between them to grow, slowly and surely, if only to prevent the elves of Greenwood from losing both a king and a prince in one fell sweep.
These were Legolas's thoughts as he descended one of the many marble staircases carved into Elrond's houses, gloomy thoughts which scarcely belonged on his fair face. Those among the elves who knew him well would be appalled by the sorrow staining his features, for ever had he been the most lighthearted of all elves even in the darkest of situations. Yet he loved his father dearly, and despite the personality quirks which caused them to clash at times, he would give anything to see his parent happy and hale. Then the Woodland Prince shook himself, firmly casting aside such unhappy thoughts. The darkness would be driven out and he would see his father again in love and joy. For his own peace of mind, he must believe so.
So caught up was he in his inner musings, he hardly noticed when he stepped out from within the fair architecture of Rivendell and entered its landscaped gardens, all of which were rich with deep fall greens. He followed the wider paths among these until he had walked out of Imladris entirely, so lost in his pondering that he even failed to take note of the figure robed all in shades of brown and red that came running up the forested road into Imladris.
The trees' voices shook with laughter as the prince stepped directly into the hooded figure's path and fell with a cry as the two collided in a rush of pale green and scarlet. Legolas rolled when he hit the earth, a habit from long years of battle, then looked over with consternation only to see that the mysterious second figure had already stood back up. The hooded figure extended a hand then, the breeze whistling between the strong, calloused fingers.
"I do think I owe you an apology." The cloaked figure said, and Legolas started in surprise to hear that the voice was distinctly feminine, though unusually harsh. With hands so rough and work-worn, he had not entirely expected a lady's lighter notes. Yet nonetheless he took the offered hand and the unknown girl pulled him to his feet with a surprisingly vicious tug.
"Nay, you owe nothing of the sort." He replied good-naturedly, somewhat sheepish about the whole incident. "I was the one who was not watching where I was going. I do apologize, my lady."
A somewhat rough chuckle escaped the woman's mouth, and she pulled her hood back to reveal her face. Legolas blinked, trying to hide his surprise, but he must have been unsuccessful for the elleth – for he could say that definitively about her now – only laughed her rusty laugh again.
Her eyes were violet, the color a rich, dark grape that seemed more fit for a king's robe than for a living being's eyes, and both burned with a light which Legolas had not remembered seeing ever before.
"My gaze is a bit eerie, is it not?" she asked, and though no smile touched her lips Legolas knew that she was amused. He tipped his head to the side, then sighed and nodded bluntly, choosing to employ his father's style of diplomacy if only for a brief moment.
"Yes, my lady, so it is an unusual stare." He said to her. "Yet eerie is too negative a word, I think."
The elleth seemed to consider for a moment, then seemed to accept the statement as harmless, and she stepped slightly further towards Imladris's wide stone gates, her expression vaguely curious. Legolas made no move to follow her, assuming that she was merely a warrioress rarely seen on his previous visits to Elrond's House, but when she turned back to him he glimpsed for a moment the odd concern of one who is lost.
"Might you tell me if the lord of this home will welcome a stranger into his home for a short while?" she asked, and Legolas's eyebrows disappeared into his blonde hair.
"The Lord Elrond lives here." He said incredulously, bright stare fixed upon the strange elleth's narrow, slightly pinched face. How could she not know such a thing? "He will welcome you should you mean him no harm."
The violet-eyed elf regarded the Greenwood Prince for several long moments; her dark hair bunched into an odd bundle at the nape of her neck, and then sighed deeply, with all the graceless weariness of one who has traveled for many months.
"Then I will be welcomed." She said softly, and disappeared into the gates of Elrond's home with a soft word to the guards on duty. Legolas watched her for a brief moment, concerned by the grimness hardening her face into pale marble. Yet after she was out of sight he put the strange elleth from his mind just as he had done with the grey thoughts of his crumbling relationship with his lone parent, and continued to walk in the forest, his spirit lifted by the presence of the swaying trees.
Some hours later he returned to Rivendell to find that Elrohir and Elladan had been searching for him since they had learned who had delivered Estel to his bath. The twins met him at the gate, identical expressions of wrath on their faces. He could not stop the grin at the sight of the infuriated pair. Ever since he had first met the tall, dark-haired sons of Elrond in his childhood, he had delighted in teasing them, and they him.
"Why, hello." He greeted them cheerfully, noting the twig caught in Elladan's hair with a hint of amusement. They had searched very hard for their baby brother, then. "It has been quite a while since we have last seen each other, hasn't it?"
"Less time for you than for us, I'd assume, given that you're laughing at us already." One of the two grumbled. "When did you snatch Estel from us?"
Legolas bounced past the pair of twins with a bright smile, the mischief in his bright gaze gleaming merrily.
"I swept him up onto a nearby roof just as he rounded a corner, and you two passed beneath with nary a suspicion of my presence." He said mirthfully. "And I must say the thought of such a trick delighted him so that he barely struggled against me when I carried him to your father."
Now the twins looked slightly impressed, and Legolas knew he was out of the danger zone for the moment. Doubtless the pair would retaliate at their leisure while he stayed in Imladris, but long years had given him a great adeptness for avoiding their ploys, and so he had a chance of evading them yet.
Elrohir let out a great breath of air and took the Wood-elf's arm, his face alight with something akin to reverence.
"Thank the Valar!" he exclaimed. "You have managed to coax Estel into taking a bath quietly – It is a near miracle!"
Elladan nudged his brother with a tad more force than was needed.
"Oh, you make yourself into a fool with such drama." He said, his tone derisive, and Legolas smiled again at his friends' antics, patting Elrohir on the upper arm with a sort of patronizing kindness spread across his face.
"Not to worry, both of you." He said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "One cannot expect such dunces as yourselves to understand how to properly care for a child."
For a moment the twins seemed not to understand that Legolas had insulted them, and then as one they railed against his teasing comment.
"Why, you upstart princeling!" One of the two cried, and they leapt for the laughing prince, chasing him into their father's gardens when he ducked through their outstretched arms. And from the balcony of his library, Elrond watched, a smile on his lips, a she-elf with violet eyes standing humbly by his side, fire burning in the wry look upon her chiseled face.
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~avtorSola