Through Wind and Fire (LOTR)

IX

As soon as Jesus heard the word that was spoken, he saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid, only believe.

- Mark 5:36

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all.

- Emily Dickinson

_________________________________________________________

It was quite a charming day in the realm of Greenwood the Great. The sun shone through the trees, while birds chirped merrily. Flowers bloomed in brilliant shades of vermillion red and yellow, their calming scents filling the air. There were no impending threats to the kingdom, and the people lived in blissful peace. Buildings, trees, and bushes blended together, making Eryn Galen an aesthetic in itself. And the queen of Mirkwood sat beside her husband, who cradled their son in his arms, revelling in the tranquility.

"Say it, little leaf, come on."

"A-a-a," the elfling blubbered.

The king cradled his son in his arms, coaxing Legolas to say his first word.

"Oh, you love me more, ion nin, say 'nana'. Na-na," the queen said.

"Nya-nuh!" he squealed.

"That was near enough to 'nana'. See, he loves me more, meleth nin! His first word was 'nana', not 'ada'."

Thranduil humphed in defeat.

"You still love me, right?" Bregoliel asked teasingly.

"Of course I do, meleth nin!"

"Surely you are not too bitter, correct?"

Thranduil rolled his eyes, and his wife grabbed his face and kissed him.

"No kisses. I am presently very angry at you," he said smiling. "Oh, I jest!" he said, and leaned his lips down to hers. Bregoliel blushed and smiled up at her husband. Thranduil turned his attention back to his son.

"Please, you have already gratified your naneth, humour me, my son!" the king begged.

"Nya-nuh!"

"That is quite right, little leaf, you love me more!" Bregoliel cooed, looking lovingly at her son who snuggled further into his father's strong arms.

The prince gurgled and yanked a lock of his father's golden hair.

"Nidh! You have a strong grip, my son. Best to put that to use with a sword!"

"We shall have no such thing, Thranduil. You know how I feel about putting him through training at such a young age."

"He is an ellon, he will gravitate to such things, Bregoliel."

"I suppose so. But please, can we put that off for as long as possible? I do not want my little elfling to grow up so fast."

"And neither do I. I wish that he could stay innocent and adorable forever," the Elvenking said, gazing at his son with pure love and adoration.

Legolas drooled in approval, grabbing fistfuls of his father's hair and kicking his legs.

"Let go, will you? That hurts! Why me, your nana's hair is much closer, ion nin!"

He finally succeeded in pulling Legolas' fingers from his hair, but the elfling grabbed onto his long finger instead. The prince tried to pull it in his mouth.