The Prince's Pretend Mother

Learning to Braid

(Taking place the second day after Inladris takes an arrow to the back of her knee.)

Inladris sat peacefully, combing gently through Legolas's fine hair. The trouble was that his hair was easiest to braid when damp, but she knew better than to brush damp hair, and she was loathe to damage such fine hair as his. So once it was brushed she wasn't entirely sure what she'd do with it, as even Legolas got impatient with how long it took to do the slender braids when his hair kept slipping through her fingers. But she'd manage. Or she'd call for a dish of water and comb it into his hair just like she'd done when he was ill, and they'd both be satisfied with the outcome. Eventually.

"What would you like to do with your morning off?" she asked Legolas.

"Morning off?" Thranduil inquired from where he read in the armchair across from them, Legolas sitting on the floor before Inladris, and Inladris seated on the divan. Usually she would have taken the armchair so Legolas had the opportunity to sit beside his father, but with her torn knee still healing, Thranduil wanted her to be able to rest it somewhere easily.

"Lord Maretan is visiting his sister and her new baby," Legolas said, sitting stiffly upright, not wanting to make the braiding process any more arduous or lengthy.

"Hm." Thranduil's eyes flicked up, watching the way Inladris's fingers curled his son's hair back over his ear, and the deft way they twisted the fine strands together.

Inladris glanced up at him, and his eyes had already flicked away again. "You could go riding," she suggested. "You haven't visited the pond east of here in a few years."

"Could we catch frogs?"

She smiled. "You may. I believe I will stay here."

"Oh, right." He paused, lips pushed to one side as he thought.

Inladris pursed her lips in the other direction as she lost her grip on the slender, slippery locks of Legolas's hair again, and had to start over. Legolas sighed.

Inladris raised her gaze, and once again had the inkling that Thranduil's had only just slid away. "Thranduil, could you help me please?"

He slowly lifted his head, eyes roving over her current endeavor. "I fail to see how any of my many talents could possibly assist you at this moment."

She rolled her eyes. "Just come here." She grimaced and eased sideways a bit on the divan, making more room for him to sit beside her, with Legolas half in front of each of them.

Thranduil sighed as well, long-suffering, and closed his book with an ostentatious flip of the cover. He uncrossed his long legs, rose, then sank with a straight back beside her. "How may I be of the lady's service?"

Inladris had already begun braiding again, working on the thicker braid that drew back the hair over Legolas's forehead. "Here, just keep your fingers pressed to the braid I've already made, after I pull it taut, so it doesn't unravel if I lose my grip on it."

"You managed yesterday," he pointed out.

"Yesterday everyone was so determined to keep me off my feet that they were perfectly willing to put up with my slowness. But Legolas's hair is so fine that when it's dry it just slips right out."

"I do not have that problem."

"Then either you don't braid your own hair or you never have it braided at all."

He only raised his chin and pressed one finger to the braid Inladris was trying to swiftly twist, hating to hold Legolas back if he wished to go. His eyes watched closely as her fingers darted in and out of his son's hair, wrists briskly turning back and forth.

And Inladris noticed. She'd become far more observant in her decades of service to the royal family than she had been when in service to her own. Wondering if Thranduil watched out of interest or just for a place to rest his gaze, her hands slowed, just in case he was watching for a more important reason.

Inladris paused to pinch the three locks of hair in her left hand, shaking out her right, flexing the fingers. She twisted a few more bends into the braid, then stopped again.

Thranduil lifted an eyebrow. "Is something the matter with your hand?"

Inladris winced, brow furrowing. "I think it may have been stepped on?"

He gave her one long, slow blink.

Inladris groaned. "Oh, it hardly even left a bruise. Who am I to complain about minor aches and pains? Even I have more worthy things to complain about."

He only shook his head at her. "Are you certain you shan't simply let him run about like an unbraided heathen for a few more days?"

"Thank you but no. Someone else may wish me to nanny their child someday; Legolas is my letter of recommendation."

Legolas fidgeted, clearly bored, and likely uncomfortable from sitting immobile on the floor for so long.

"Here," Inladris said, and at last tied off Legolas's middle braid. She turned Legolas's head so his right ear pointed more toward the ceiling than the door, and used her fingernail to separate three narrow locks of his hair at the very edge of his hairline. "I'll show you how to do it so I only have to do one side. Did you see how I did the middle?"

"I was present."

"Excellent. This is the same idea, only you have to gather hair without losing the braid. You're only going to gather hair from one side for this braid though, that makes it stand out nicely. Hold your three pieces like this, twist the lock in your right hand over your hand toward the center, where you grab it with your left hand. Then take the top piece from your left hand—don't gather with that side—and drop it in the center for your right hand. Gather from the right with that strand there...." She explained the steps only a couple times, showing him slowly, then made use of his finger in keeping the braid from unraveling while she finished the rest.

After tying it off she said, "Legolas, shift a bit to your right for me." She then placed a hand on top of his head and angled it appropriately so Thranduil would be able to reach the left side of his son's head—Legolas groaned on a sigh—and helped him separate the first three locks of hair. "Try the same thing on this side, but gather from your left and not with your right."

Thranduil slowly began, moving with great care.

"You can keep a little more tension on his hair—it'll be easier that way—and I promise unless you yank it doesn't hurt. Like this." She reached around Thranduil's back and tugged on a lock of his long, pale hair.

"Are we going to be eating cakes and sipping tea by afternoon?" Thranduil wondered.

"I don't really feel like cakes today, but thank you for offering. Yes, just like that. It's a trick to get the hang of it, but it's easier to learn on someone else than on yourself." Inladris placed her finger firmly on an area he'd already finished gradually braiding, so even if he tangled the strands the braid wouldn't unravel.

Once he reached the end of his braid Inladris accepted it back. "Tying it off can be a trick too. The best way for a reliable braid is to stitch the ends, but hair is slippery, so there are certain knots you've got to use. My husband said some of them are sailing knots, but it's been ages since I went sailing, and I don't remember which ones he claimed were nautical in origin." Inladris gave a firm tug on her needle and string, tightly pinching the bent-over braid so she wouldn't yank Legolas's head along with her, then snipped the thread a hair away from the miniscule knot. She then tossed the braid over Legolas's forehead and he hastened up from the rug.

"I'm going to find out which of the maids will go to the pond with me," he declared, and bolted.

Inladris and Thranduil watched him go with interest.

"I do believe you have utilized his stores of patience in full today," Thranduil remarked.

"Most likely. They'll replenish."

Thranduil took her needle and rotated it between his fingertips, cogitative, then rose to place it safely back in the pin cushion she couldn't reach.