Post by Admin on Jan 3, 2021 21:49:17 GMT
Author: Horsegirl
Summary: A young elfling wants to get his Ada a special gift for his Begetting Day, but how is he to earn the money necessary to purchase it?
Rating: K+ for angst and mention of potential torture
A small, blonde-haired elfling shuffled along dismally down the long, dark corridor of the cave-castle in which he lived, his head hanging down as he stared unthinkingly at the stone floor as he walked. Clad in the greens and browns of the forest outside his home, his soft, green velvet boots made more of a sound than usual on the hard stone, though only elven ears would still have been able to detect the small sound. If any elven ears did hear the sound, they would have immediately known that the child was troubled about something. For this particular child was grace epitomized, and never did he make sounds when walking, nor hardly in his noisiest play. He was a quiet child, reflective and gentle, kind and loving in spirit, and empathetic to a fault.
This golden child was none other than the only child of Thranduil, the great elven king of what was once known as Greenwood, but which was fast being overtaken by the encroaching darkness and had been adequately but perhaps dishearteningly renamed Mirkwood. And, it was this child’s loving nature that had him in such a dismal quandary now, for his beloved Adar was soon to have his Begetting Day. It was an important one in the lives of elves, for it marked another millennia of years, not just a few dozen or so, and the cave-like castle was in an uproar with festivity preparations, for there was to be a large celebration for the woodland folk in commemoration of their king’s grand day.
Now, one might ask why a small elfling would be so sad about his father’s grand day and an upcoming celebration that was sure to be filled with many delicious foods and exciting activities for the realm’s very own prince. But this particular elfling would have happily given up his chance at a yummy pastry or participation in the fun games for one small thing (or not small thing depending on how one viewed it): ten gold pieces with which to purchase a particular gift for his Adar for his Begetting Day. That was what the small prince yearned for with all his heart, and that is what he had spent the past several weeks trying desperately to obtain. He had failed, however, and now his only recourse was to contemplate something that he had no desire to do, but that his small heart desperately urged him to, for he did not wish to disappoint his beloved Adar on his big day with no gift from his own son!
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This tale started three weeks prior with a visit by a host of Mirkwood delegates, along with the king himself and his small child, to the mannish settlement of Laketown for trade negotiations and supplies. Thranduil, ever the protective father,—and more so since the passing of his beloved wife—had not let the little elfling out of his sight for a second of time as they perused the many booths of the marketplace. Thus, the child had been at his elbow when Thranduil admired a particular unblemished blade, one inlaid with fine strands of gold in the ornate handle and carved on both handle and shining blade with elvish runes in Quenya. The intelligent young prince Legolas had recently mastered the art of reading—most recently that of Quenya, a slightly more difficult and less-used language—and could tell that it was an ancient elven blessing, one that his tutor had read to him in class once and made him memorize.
May you be blessed with true aim in battle, a wise heart, a forgiving spirit, and the wisdom to know when to stay your hand.
May you have true success in battle at all times, the constant love of your family and friends, and a long life in a beautiful land.
The small prince had liked this blessing, especially inscribed as it was on a weapon of war. It made him feel like his Adar would be safe if he wielded it in battle.
Thranduil recognized this blade as one similar to the one his grandfather had once possessed. Though it was not the same blade, it brought back nostalgic memories of his childhood and family that he rarely allowed himself to think about. It was with a sad glint to his blue eyes that he finally laid the blade down, not knowing that two small, identical blue eyes were carefully watching his features and making mental notes for future reference. Thranduil had walked on then, choosing only to purchase the supplies he had come there for. In a time of war, one did not waste the kingdom’s money on trivial wants, the stout-hearted king firmly believed, and he would not make a frivolous purchase for himself when his own kingdom contained within it the very best in welders, bladesmiths, and elven crafters that could fasten weaponry fit for the Valar himself to possess.
As he had picked up his elfling and carried him on one arm while continuing to peruse the goods in the marketplace, huge eyes had looked back at the table with the special knife. Two men had gathered at the table, likewise admiring the blade and discussing it in low tones that easily reached the elfling’s keen ears. The larger man, the one with strangely greying hair—the child had never seen grey hair before except on Mithrandir, the wizard—was turning the blade over in his hands reverently while speaking to his friend, a shorter, slighter man with brown hair and hair on his face. “Ai, but I’d like to get this for my son for his coming of age next month. A fine blade this is—a blade fit for kings!”
The other man flashed him a sympathetic grin. “Ai, that it is. A fine piece of money it costs too. I don’t happen to have a ten piece lying around, and I doubt you do either, old friend. I’d say you need to be content to lower your sights to one of these well-made dwarven blades here. They are no less fine.”
Thranduil spoke to Legolas then, pointing out a booth with baked goods and various types of sweets. “Legolas, would you like to get a sack of sweets to share amongst your friends at home?”
The small elf turned his head from where it was perched over his Ada’s broad shoulder, his eyes lighting at the offer of the unexpected treat. “Oh, yes please, Adar!” he breathed, his blue eyes growing round with pleasure at the sight of so many different types of sweets. The small elfling did not forget the men’s words, however.
Legolas was known to be a very smart elfling, but he had not yet learned the different forms of money amongst the races of Middle Earth. When his keen ears had caught the word ‘ten piece’, he thought to himself, ‘That is not too bad. All I have to do is earn ten pieces of gold and I can buy that beautiful knife Ada liked for his begetting day. Ada has hundreds upon thousands of gold pieces in the treasure room. Surely he will let me earn it in some way.’ And it was with much excitement and trepidation that the elfling went home with his Adar that day, determined in his mind to find some way of earning the necessary money for his father’s gift.
The next day found a small, golden elfling skipping down the long hall of the castle towards the throne room, where he promptly requested an audience with the king from a smiling guard, who let the child in and motioned him to stand at the back of the room until he was addressed by the king. Legolas straightened his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. He was there for business, and he needed to make himself appear as old as possible so that his Ada would hopefully take him seriously.
Thranduil had paused for half a second in his discussion with Galion when the child came in, one fair eyebrow rising in surprise. Legolas knew he was not to disturb business in the throne room, but the guard’s positioning of the child at the rear of the room, along with a subtle glance at his king, let him know that his son was here for exactly that: some type of business. His curiosity getting the best of even the all-wise and ancient king, he exchanged a glance with his old friend and esteemed aide, Galion, who allowed a slight shrug to grace his lithe shoulders. He had not the slightest idea what the child had in mind, but he was equally curious to see this played out! All in the kingdom loved the golden prince, not least of all Thranduil’s closest friends like Galion, who had joyfully shared in watching the tiny child grow from birth.
Thranduil cleared his throat, meeting his son’s pure blue gaze and motioning him forward. “You may approach,” he said in a firm voice, the usual tone he would use with any others that requested a meeting with him during the day. He kept his features carefully schooled, determined to keep his amusement from showing at what the child was obviously taking seriously. Legolas’ fair young face was shining with innocence and determination, but the king detected a slight trace of doubt in the depths of the huge blue eyes as he took brave steps forward until he reached his Ada.
Dropping to his knee like he’d seen one of the men from Laketown do during a visit to Mirkwood a few years ago, the elfling lowered his head. “M-my Lord…” The child paused, gathering his courage as he took a deep breath. “I am here to request work… I can do many different tasks…such as deliver messages, clean the castle or stable…I am very handy my Lord…at many things…” He kept his head bowed, knowing that was protocol until his father gave him permission to rise, so he did not see the stunned expression that flitted across both Thranduil’s and Galion’s faces as they exchanged a swift glance.
“Rise, Legolas, and look at me.” He commanded, making sure the surprise was gone from his face as the child stumbled nervously to his feet and met his father’s gaze with an equally nervous expression. “Why ever do you wish to work, child? You have everything you need right here.”
Legolas bit his lip, his tiny heart quaking at the next words he knew he must speak. He was not sure how his Ada would take it! “I need to earn ten gold coins, my Lord. I assure you I will do the best job possible at whatever task you give me.” He spoke quickly this time, trying to rush through the ‘ten gold coins’ part and distract his Ada with the talk of work.
Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up. “Why ever do you have need of gold coins, Legolas? If you need anything, tell Galion or myself and we will ensure you receive it, within reason of course. And ten gold coins is no small amount. I see no reason that an elfling would have any need of such a large sum.”
Legolas bit his lip, lowering his head and staring at the ground. He dared not let slip why he wanted the coins. It would ruin the surprise for Ada! Rubbing the toe of his boot against the hard surface of the floor, he remained silent, not knowing with what to respond without his father finding out the secret.
Thranduil frowned, growing impatient with the child’s lack of response and strange behavior. “Legolas, if you cannot tell me why you want the coins, I cannot even make a decision.”
The small elfling lifted huge eyes back up to meet his Ada’s frowning gaze, his lower lip beginning to quiver as the stressful situation threatened to bring tears to the beautiful eyes. Thranduil saw this, but he knew he could not just acquiesce to such a request when there seemed to be no logical foundation to it. “Ad…I mean…my Lord, I have an imminent need for the coins, but I cannot tell you the reason why. I am willing to work hard to earn them…” The pleading eyes tugged at Thranduil’s heartstrings, and he could hear Galion softly clear his throat at his side, equally affected by the angelic look.
He sighed in frustration. “Legolas, if you cannot even tell me why you wish the coins, I have no choice but to deny your request. Besides, you are a prince of this kingdom. You have no business or need to do menial tasks for pay. Not to mention that you are only a tiny elfling who has lessons to complete every day. Speaking of which…are you not supposed to be in lessons right now?” He tilted his head, his expression turning grim as he realized his son would be late for lessons. “Do not come in here with senseless requests, ion nin,” he warned with a grim voice.
“B-but Ada…” Legolas stumbled, forgetting in his nervousness that he was supposed to be in audience with the King, not his Adar.
Thranduil held up his hand for silence, his patience at an end and his thoughts already on the many tasks he needed to complete that day himself. He was a loving father to his elfling, but he could not and would not tolerate foolishness or idle demands. “That is my decision,” he snapped, wincing inwardly as the innocent blue eyes widened in alarm at his father’s tone. “Now get to your lessons and be grateful that you do not receive a punishment for being late. Be sure to ask forgiveness of your tutor for your tardiness.” He turned his head away then, letting his son know the subject was closed and trying not to see the immediate slump of the tiny shoulders and the dejected posture as the child slowly left the room.
Galion frowned in concern as he watched the child leave. He could not defend the little prince’s position, because Legolas had not given any reason, but he did not like to see the child so discouraged. He rather thought that Thranduil should have tried a little harder to find out what the reason was, or listen a little more carefully to the child’s request. He sighed, shaking his head slightly then forcing his thoughts back to the matters at hand. There were many papers to go through, patrols to arrange with his King, and matters of the celebration to finalize. He hoped that whatever was on Legolas’ mind was not anything too important…
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Legolas, ever the obedient elfling, did go straight to his lessons that day and apologize to his tutor. His mind was not on his schoolwork, however, and the tutor could easily see that the elfling was distracted. Concerned about the abnormal behavior—the elfling was the best and one of the most intelligent students he’d ever had the pleasure of tutoring—the elder elf, Ithilfin, cajoled the child into telling him what was wrong. As the stuttering elfling finished telling him his tale of woe, a few tears escaping from the clear blue eyes, Ithilfin frowned. He too, could not fathom why the child would have need of gold pieces, and Legolas had decided he must keep it a secret from everyone so that his Ada could not possibly find out and spoil the surprise.
Ithilfin paled when the huge blue eyes lifted up to meet his worried gaze. “Master Ithilfin…do you know of any work I could do to earn gold coins?” There was a pause as the elder elf wondered how to address the question and Legolas contemplated his further words. “D-do you think…do you think mayhap… I could do some work for you?” The child’s lower teeth grabbed the edge of his upper lip anxiously as he clasped his small hands together and put all the pleading of his being behind his words. Groaning inwardly, the elder elf placed a kind hand on the small, thin shoulder.
“I’m sorry, child. I would be more than happy to do so, but I cannot undermine what your Lord father has already decided. I’m afraid you must somehow convince your Adar if you are to find work you can do for pay, for no other elf would be allowed to do any differently than I without the express permission of the King.” Ithilwin felt his heart tear in two at the child’s forlorn features and the two tears that trickled down the beautiful elven face. Wanting to cheer the little one up, he was swift to offer him the rest of the day off from his studies, watching with a heavy heart as the child bowed dismally and left with only half a smile of gratitude and a weak “Hannon le, Master,” for his efforts.
Legolas spent the next several weeks trying to obtain work from the head stablemaster, the elven crafters and smiths, the bargemaster, the weaponry instructor, and even the head cook, only to receive the same answer as Ithilfin had given him. (All except the weaponry instructor, who informed him grimly that elflings had no place on the sparring field, and his father would hear from him if he asked again, thoroughly managing to terrify the small elf). The discouraged elfling finally resorted to full-out pestering his father for permission in a more relaxed setting. He quickly found out the futility of this recourse, however, for the king only became angered at what he felt was a deliberate attempt on Legolas’ part to withhold information from him, and the child was forced to quickly drop the subject before things grew uncomfortable.
Now, three weeks later, he had come to the very dismal conclusion that his only recourse was to ‘borrow’ the gold coins in time to convince one of the elves on the barges to purchase the knife for him on one of his many trips up the river to Laketown in time for his Ada’s celebration. ‘After all’, his childish mind reasoned, ‘I am the prince, and whatever belongs to Ada sort of belongs to me too. I can tell Ada after his Begetting Day, while he is still happy over his beautiful knife, and tell him that I of course want to work to pay it off. I’m sure he will understand.’
With this thought in mind, the little prince found it fairly easy to sneak into the treasure room one evening, since the guards were not looking for tiny elflings and the child had long ago learned the art of playing hide and seek and effectively disappearing. With the ten gold pieces safe in his pockets, he had a more difficult time getting out of the treasury room, because the guards never entered the room itself without a good reason. He was forced to wait several hours until the keeper of the treasure arrived as he did every day to go through the various gold and gems and ensure all was in order, at which point he managed to slip out underneath the hem of the elder elf’s robes and slip through the door before it was closed.
Unfortunately, the small elf did not realize that the keeper would immediately detect the absence of a few small pieces of gold—this had been his job for millennia, and he knew the layout of every small part of the room—nor did he realize that the elder elf felt the draft as his robes were swept aside and turned just in time to see a slight form disappear around the corner—a familiarly small form with golden hair. The keeper lost no time in searching through the room, quickly spotting the table from which the gold had been removed, keen eyes noting the slight change in how the coins had been arranged. Though he could not determine exactly how many pieces had been taken, he knew that some had, and that was enough to force him with a heavy heart to go immediately to the king with the news that his beloved elfling had stolen from his own father.
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A short while later found a furiously pacing King in the throne room, along with an equally disturbed Galion. Thranduil had dismissed the keeper after thanking him for his efficient observance. Though the keeper had not known how much gold was actually missing, Thranduil had—ten gold coins, to be exact. Now he must determine how to best handle this situation, for he still had no idea why his child wanted the coins in the first place.
As Galion watched the king’s ire grow with each passing moment, he attempted to calm him down into some semblance of reason. “My Lord, the child seemed almost desperate to obtain some work, and he did try to earn the money legitimately first. I must advise caution in this matter. Perhaps Legolas had a valid reason for needing the coins.”
“Galion, my friend, I can think of no valid reason for my own child to steal gold pieces from me. If he were a starving orphan from the streets, it could be excused. But Legolas has every need taken care of even before it is suspected. He lives in a style befitting high kings, and he has only to ask if anything else is needed or wanted within reason. No, I cannot let this slide. He refuses to tell me why he needed the coins as well, making the crime even more dire. This behavior is certainly not befitting a young elvish prince, and I cannot and will not tolerate it!” Thranduil’s pacing became more rapid as his frustration grew at every sentence.
“But, Sire, the child is a good child! You know this! I cannot help but think there is some good reason he would do such a thing. I just think you should tread lightly in this matter. Legolas is a sensitive elven child, and if punished unfairly, he may sicken.” Galion wrung his hands together worriedly, his anxiety for the child forcing him to become more bold in his words. He had been friends with Thranduil even before he was king, however, and he would not sit idly by and watch an error be made by his friend, not when it concerned an adorable, angelic elfling prince!
Thranduil stopped pacing and turned to face his trusted aide and longtime friend. His features were marred with concern mingled still with anger. “You speak the truth, mellon nin, yet I must somehow instill a lesson into Legolas that he won’t soon forget. This is just not something I can EVER allow to go unpunished, no matter the reason.” He lowered his head for a moment, deep in thought. Then his face lit up and he raised his gaze to meet the watching one of his friend. “I think…perhaps…I shall try a different tactic with Legolas this time than the usual chores and loss of privileges. I am going to scare him into telling me the truth, at the very least, and then perhaps I can make a better decision on what other punishment is necessary.”
Galion frowned, tilting his head ever so slightly. “How do you intend to scare him, my Lord?” His tone was laced with worry for the small elfling. Thranduil was known to have a temper, and if he thought someone was doing a great wrong, his ire was dreadful to behold. Galion hated to see it aimed towards the tiny elfling that he loved so dearly.
Thranduil waved one slender hand carelessly in the air. “Oh, I will think of some horrible punishment that befits his crime and make him think that’s to be his fate.” The king wanted to focus on his new task now, anxious to see how it would play out, and did not look up to see his butler’s worried expression.
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In the meantime, Legolas had lost no time in getting his gold coins to one of his trusted friends working on the barge. Gaerlin was a young elf that spent much time playing with the child, having left his elflinghood not too long ago and able to relate a little better to the small prince. He was one of the few grownups that Legolas felt he could trust with this secret, and he knew that Gaerlin was taking a trip to Laketown that very afternoon to deliver some empty barrels.
Gaerlin was curious at first and asked the child where he had gotten the gold, but when Legolas explained what he wanted to purchase with it, a Begetting Day gift for his Ada, he did not think there was any cause for concern. Legolas mentioned that he had earned it by doing some work and for future work (feeling quite satisfactory in his mind that he would be given the opportunity to do so and only feeling a small twinge of guilt at the small untruth), and that was good enough for the youthful barge elf. With a smile and a tweak of the small nose, he left to prepare for the trip, the gold safely in his own pocket and with a smiling reflection on the little elf’s selflessness in wanting to buy his Adar such a nice gift.
Feeling quite ecstatic over accomplishing his mission, the elfling skipped happily back up the trail to the gates of the keep, trying to push his guilt from taking the coins aside long enough to think about how his Ada’s face would light up when he saw the knife at his Celebration. Gaerlin should return with the sword sometime that evening and would deliver it to Legolas the next morning. He had only to wait until the next day during the Celebration to surprise his Ada! He hummed a little song to himself as he grew closer to the gates, his smile slipping slightly and the song stopping in mid-sentence at the sight of a waiting Galion, whose arms were crossed firmly across his chest.
He knew immediately that the much-loved elder elf was waiting for him, and he did not like the grim light in the familiar green eyes as his brown hair waved forgotten in the breeze, the elder elf’s gaze firmly fixed on the small child who stumbled to a stop, suddenly afraid of what was to come. Galion’s features softened ever so slightly as he registered the immediate fear in the small child. He held out his hand towards the elfling. “Come, penneth,” he said gently. “Your Adar wishes to see you.” Legolas turned huge blue eyes up to view his friend since his birth, the suddenly watery depths filled with not a small amount of fear.
“I-is Ada mad at me, Galion?” he whispered as he reached for the elder elf’s hand, feeling a small amount of comfort in the warm and familiar grip. Galion sighed. Thranduil had commanded that he be firm with the child when he brought him to the throne room, but he had not the heart to do so. There was only so far one could be expected to go when it came to little beloved elflings, he mused as he scooped the child up into his arms, giving him a gentle squeeze and smoothing back tussled hair from the now pale and unhappy features.
Galion laid a kiss on the child’s forehead as he walked inside the keep and headed towards the throne room where Thranduil wished to confront the child. “I think he just might be, penneth,” he said sadly, giving him another squeeze as he felt the small body begin to shake in nervous fear. “Penneth, I think it would help your case greatly if you only told your Adar the truth of the matter.” He pulled back from the shivering child and tilted the small chin up with one hand to meet his serious gaze. “Can you do that for me, little one? I do not wish to see things so bad between your Adar and you. Nor do I wish to see you unhappy.”
Legolas bit back a sob as he pushed through the hand on his chin and buried his face in the other’s warm shoulder. “You do not understand,” he sniffled sadly as he tried desperately to push back the threatening tears. “Ada does not understand either…no one understands…” Another soft sniff gripped the elder elf around the area of his heart, and a dark expression marred his fair features. The child was right. He did not understand, but he knew something was not quite right about the matter. He only hoped Thranduil would see reason before he scared the poor child to death. He looked back up to see that his feet had already carried them to the throne room entrance, and the guards were casting strange looks in his direction, as though they wondered why he was carrying the child—they had both been present when Thranduil had ordered Galion to retrieve him and show him no softness or comfort.
Galion flushed and hastily placed the still-sniffling elfling on the ground. He bent down to one knee before the small prince, squeezing a thin shoulder and wiping the few tears on his face away with his other hand. He then cupped the small chin, forcing the child to meet his gaze. “No tears, penneth. You are a brave, strong prince of the Woodland Realm. You must be courageous now. I will be right there the entire time.” He swallowed deeply at the searching blue eyes as the child listened closely. Legolas nodded, squared his little shoulders, then turned to walk into the throne room. He stopped suddenly and turned back, flinging himself unrestrainedly into the surprised aide’s arms for a last hug.
Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, the elfling smiled a watery smile up at him. “Hannon le, Galion. Amin meleth le.” He whispered as he turned once more and left the poor elder elf still on one knee to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart that were lying all over the cold floor of the cavern. Without preamble, the child marched into the throne room, straight up to the throne, and dropped immediately to one knee, his hands clasped together in front of him and his head bowed in submission. Legolas had a very bad feeling that he knew what this was about, for naughty deeds had a way of making themselves known, he had discovered, no matter how great the cause it was committed for.
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Thranduil sat upon his great throne, one leg draped over the other thigh and his long, slender fingers resting on the arms of the throne. His keen eyes were filled with a piercing wisdom not dissimilar to an eagle’s gaze as they assessed the small elfling. A slight frown crossed his face when the child walked boldly up the throne and dropped to his knee. It was quite obvious that Legolas knew why he was here, or he would have been hesitant, unsure in his manner. The angered father did not see any signs of remorse in the child’s actions, which made him angrier still. “Legolas, do you know why I have summoned you?” The slender hands gripped the throne arms tightly as he waited for the response.
Shining blue eyes looked up at him finally, and the king wondered if the child had been crying, for his eyes were a little too shiny. “I-I think so, my Lord,” the child answered then in a soft voice.
Thranduil pursed his lips. At least the child was not going to deny it! That would have incurred his wrath even more. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Galion slip into the room and hasten to Thranduil’s side. He had to bite back a grin as he realized his friend had no intention of leaving him alone with the elfling. It was amazing, really, how everyone thought he was going to lose control and beat the child, despite having never done so before! Thranduil gleaned no small amount of entertainment from this impression though—a sort of private joke that he chuckled about in the lone hours of reflection at night when he was unable to sleep. He pulled his thoughts back to the waiting gaze before him. “Do enlighten me then, elfling,” he said in an icy tone—one that sent shivers down the poor elfling’s spine.
“I-I think…” Legolas took a deep breath and tried again. “I-I think…perhaps…it is because I borrowed some gold pieces…” his voice trailed to a whisper as the king’s cheeks reddened and his eyes narrowed.
Thranduil had to bite the inside of his lip at the child’s utter audacity in an attempt to rein his temper in. ‘The child does not even have the grace to appear guilty about this!’ he thought angrily as he jumped to his feet, his tall frame towering over the kneeling elfling. “Borrowed??? BORROWED???” he shouted in rage, his fingernails digging deeply into his palms as he tried to calm himself. It scared Legolas so badly that he fell backwards to end up sitting on the floor, his hands splayed out behind him as he caught himself just in time to keep from ending up flat on his back.
“Rise, elfling!” The king commanded, his tone brooking no room for hesitation on Legolas’ part. He stumbled quickly to his feet to stand on quivering legs in front of his Adar and king. When the king was certain he had the elfling’s attention, he continued. “It is NOT called borrowing, when you take something without the owner’s permission. Do you know who that gold belongs to, Legolas? Well, do you?” he said the latter in a loud tone as the child hesitated in answering.
Legolas’ breaths started coming more rapidly as the fear began to take over his small body. He felt a little lightheaded and wondered vaguely what was wrong with him, not knowing that the stressful situation was sending him into a panicked sort of shock. “To you, Ada…” he whispered, rubbing his hands together nervously and trying not to burst into tears.
Thranduil took a step forward, knowing full well that this would intimidate the child even more. “Wrong!” he said in a now-too-quiet voice, the lack of volume scaring the poor child even more than the yelling. “It belongs to the realm, Legolas. That gold…the gold that you stole…it belongs not just to me, but to the entire realm. It is what I use to provide for the elves living in Mirkwood. So you have stolen not just from me, but from the entire population of Mirkwood!”
Legolas gulped and his eyes grew wide in disbelief. He had never known that before! He began to feel even more guilt at his actions. He hoped that he would be able to work off the gold pieces somehow so that he could pay back the realm. “I only borrowed it, Ada,” he said tentatively, somehow managing to keep his traitorous thumb from sneaking into his mouth from his fear and stress. “I will be working to make up for it, in whatever task you assign to me. “ The elfling risked a small, shaky smile. “It’s just like I said before, Ada. I will work hard for it…I promise…”
Thranduil stomped one boot down on the floor, the noise reverberating in the cavernous room and sounding even louder than it really was. “And did I not tell you NO?” His voice increased in volume at every word until he was screaming once more, immediately wiping the slight smile from the elfling’s face and filling his small features with grief and fear as he winced from the loud noise. One lone tear escaped down the little cheek as the child’s nerves began to betray him. “I…I am sorry, Ada…” he said forlornly, lowering his head in shame.
“Do you know what they do to thieves, elfling?” Thranduil leaned forward, his body almost pressing against the slight form before him, close enough for Legolas to fully feel his father’s rage and realize just how much trouble he was in.
Legolas gulped as he watched his father’s angry features, wondering vaguely who ‘they’ were. “N-no, Ada. I don’t know…” Another lone tear trickled down the pale, smooth cheek as the elfling tried desperately to keep from crying in front of his Ada and making things worse.
Thranduil, ignoring Galion’s worried expression in the background, moved one step further to the nervous child, his hands clasped firmly behind his back and his face completely blank of every expression except anger and disappointment. “They cut off the hand that did the stealing.” He said in a voice filled with ice and betrayal.
If possible, Legolas paled even more and took a small step back, his small body shaking even harder in fear as he brought first one small hand then the other up to look at in turn, as though he were contemplating the future loss. Finally, he squared his shoulders bravely, turned huge, moisture-laden eyes up to meet the still angry ones of his father, and said in a heartbreakingly small and dismal voice, “Ada, I’m afraid I don’t remember which hand took the coins.” There was a long pause as Thranduil bit his lip harshly in order to control his surprise at this statement and maintain an angry expression. Then, “D-does that mean I will lose both of my hands?” Two more tears trickled down the misery-filled face and the last word was breathed out on a sob.
Thranduil turned his head away quickly, working hard to keep the smile from his supposedly fierce expression. When he had finally gained control of his traitorous mouth and twinkling eyes, he turned back to face the elfling with as fiercest an expression as the poor child had ever seen. “Hmmm, I do not remember what the requirement is in a case like this. It is possible that the loss of two hands might be required, certainly.” Thranduil turned his head back to watch his son carefully through narrowed eyes. “However, if you are willing to disclose why you took the gold in the first place, I’m sure the court will take it into consideration. It might be that only one hand will be necessary.”
Galion closed his eyes and lowered his head, his heart pounding in dismay and fear for the tiny child. He had a strong feeling that Thranduil was overdoing this just a little. This was a harsh threat to a tiny little elf, no matter what the deed. He could understand the need to glean the truth from the child, but he wasn’t sure all of this was necessary. His heart ached to scoop the hurting child up into his arms and console him, and he did not know how Thranduil was managing to keep up this farce so well. He knew the king loved his only son fiercely, but it was difficult to see it at the moment.
Legolas looked up at his father, his eyes filled with disbelief as he tried to process what was happening. ‘No,’ he thought to himself. ‘I cannot spoil the surprise! I cannot! I must wait until the day after tomorrow. Even if I have to lose my hands, it’s worth it to get to give Ada a nice surprise that will make him happy!’ The tiny elfling could not fully contemplate what the loss of his hands would really entail, his child’s mind filled with innocence and a trust that would not allow him to think in terms of pain and grief. To his eyes, it would be a small thing quickly over, and he was sure that his hands must be able to grow back, or Ada would not have threatened it. It would surely hurt though—of that he was sure of—and he found his gaze drifting back to his small hands, wondering how Ada would cut them off. Biting back another shaky sob, he clasped them tightly together, shoving them underneath the edge of his tunic in a subconscious effort to hide them and keep them safe before raising his gaze back up to the waiting Thranduil.
“I am sorry, Ada…truly I am…but I cannot yet tell you why I took the gold. I can tell you in a few days…but I cannot tell you now.” The elfling chewed on his lip once more as he tried to control his emotions, casting a quick glance over to Galion who lowered his head in discouragement at the elfling’s words. There would be no stopping Thranduil’s plan now, not if the child refused to cooperate.
Thranduil’s vigilant gaze had caught the child’s every movement, including the glances at his hands and the subtle shift to hide them. His own heart quelling just a little, he decided to give the child a slight reprieve and regroup with Galion to figure out a plan that would get the child to talk. He would never really cut off the poor elfling’s hands, of course, but he had hoped the threat would work to open up the elfling’s mouth and make him confess the reason behind his madness. He clasped his hands behind his back, rocking back slightly on the heels of his boots.
“If that is your decision, elfling,” he said in an eerily calm voice compared to the shouting a few moments before. “You are to go straight to your bed chambers and wait there. You will receive no dinner, and you will think about why you have committed such an atrocious deed as to steal from our people. I will come to retrieve you for your punishment later on, at which time you will find out firsthand why thieves never steal again…” he let the words trail out, sending chills through both the little elf and Galion, who almost took a step forward to stop Thranduil from carrying this any further.
Before he had the chance, though, Thranduil lost his patience at the gaping expression on his child’s face and shouted once more. “GO! NOW!” And Legolas went. He scurried quickly out of the room on legs filled with jelly, losing no time in retiring to his chambers and throwing himself on his bed, where he grabbed up his waiting blanket and cried bitterly into his pillow, finally letting loose the many emotions of not just that day but the many days prior, and eventually crying himself into a restless sleep filled with dreams of lone and bloodied hands floating around in a dark sky.
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In the throne room, Galion was now the one pacing back and forth in front of Thranduil, his conscience not willing to let this lie. “It is too much, Thranduil! It is just too much! He is only a little elfling! You should not have done this!” he lamented to his old friend as Thranduil reclined once more on his throne, throwing his leg over a thigh like before and leaning back carelessly as he watched his friend pace and rant, amusement lingering in his eyes.
“And I say it will surely work,” he stated calmly. “You saw how much it scared him. After he has had some time to think on it, his tongue will loosen. Besides, old friend,” he raised a blonde eyebrow as he looked at his friend, “is this not better than the physical punishment you are so fearful of?”
Galion’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know…” he started.
“I have always known,” the other said. “It is obvious that many here think I’m going to immediately start thrashing the child, despite the fact that I’ve never laid a hand on him. One would think I’m a monster to the child the way you all act sometimes!”
Galion had the grace to flush. “Well…you did just threaten to cut off his hands, my Lord…” he said weakly, feeling a little guilty that he always thought the worst of his friend’s temper when it came to the little prince.
“And you know I would never do such!” cried Thranduil indignantly. “It IS necessary that we learn why Legolas stole the gold, considering that he has never behaved this way in his life.”
Galion sighed then. “Yes…I just feel sorrow for the boy…I do not know why he refuses to tell us.”
The two discussed the matter a while longer, then dealt with more of the realm’s business until dinner, which Thranduil had delivered to the throne room, not wishing to eat in the dining hall without his elfling there to fill the night with his childish chatter. As the hours drew on, the king began to feel a little guilty over scaring the child so badly, and he found himself wondering if he should go up and visit him soon to see how he was faring. They had barely finished their dinner though when the throne room door slammed open and one of the barge elves came running in, sliding to a stop and kneeling belatedly before the king with bowed head, his actions strained and nervous.
Thranduil recognized this particular elf. This was Gaerlin, Legolas’ good friend. Curious, the king motioned for the other elf to rise, giving him leave to speak. The younger elf met his eyes boldly, worry in his young face. “My Lord, forgive me for the interruption…but I have just returned from Laketown and heard a rumor that the elfling was going to get punished for thievery…in a horrible manner…”
The king frowned, exchanging glances with Galion whose fair face freely displayed his curiosity. “The elfling is in trouble, yes…” he said slowly.
Gaerlin bowed his head for a moment, his shoulders slumping, then he gathered himself and looked at both of the elder elves in turn. “I hope the elfling will forgive me for this, but I cannot allow this to continue. My Lord, please…I assure you, if it is true that the elfling took the coins, he has every intention of working to repay the loss, and I deeply assure you, his intentions in doing so were of the purest in nature…”
Thranduil’s eyes widened slightly. “And how do you know this?” He said slowly.
Gaerlin’s face turned red. “Because the young prince made a request of me earlier. He gave me leave to purchase an item in Laketown with ten pieces of gold. I asked him where he had gotten the money and he told me he was going to be working to earn it. Only…when I got to Laketown to purchase the item, I discovered it was actually only a cost of a ten piece. I assume the elfling did not understand the men’s form of exchange and misunderstood. I was able to buy it for less than one piece of our gold, and I have the rest here.”
The young elf then drew a small bag out of his pocket and went to his knees, pouring out the pieces of gold onto the floor before the throne. As nine coins clinked noisily to the floor, Thranduil paled, imagining a tiny, innocent elfling thinking that a ten piece meant ten pieces of gold. He looked up at Galion once more, guilt in his eyes. There was still an important question to be addressed, however, and he turned back to the once more standing Gaerlin.
“But what could he possibly want to buy there…that he is not provided with here?” he asked in somewhat of a daze at this entire matter. Gaerlin bit his lip as he thought for a moment, then made an impromptu decision. No surprise was worth this much trauma to a little elfling! He drew a longer package out from behind his belt, drawing the cloth aside and exposing a brilliant, gleaming knife of the highest make. Both elder elves gasped at the sight, Galion as he wondered why an elfling would make such a purchase, and Thranduil as he immediately recognized the knife displayed before him and began to get a nagging feeling of premonition in his stomach. He had a strange feeling that he knew what the younger elf would next say.
“He wanted to purchase this for you, Sire, as a Begetting Day gift. He wished it to be a surprise until your celebration starts the day after tomorrow, and I know he will be disappointed, but I could not allow the child to endure such a horrible punishment!” The young elf dropped once more to a knee. “Saes, Sire, I beg of you, do not punish the child so harshly! He is but a tiny elfling that desired to surprise his Ada with a nice gift on his Begetting Day!”
Thranduil groaned then, placing a hand over his face as the elf’s words smote him to his very core. ‘Ai, how I have wronged the child,’ he thought bitterly, feeling Galion’s glare even through his hand splayed over his grief-ridden features. Gathering control, he removed his hand and managed a shaky smile at Gaerlin. “Thank you, young one, for coming to tell me. I was not going to cut off the child’s hands. I would never harm him! I did threaten to do so, however, in an attempt to scare the truth from him as to why he stole the gold. I fear the child has been allowed to think this for many hours, and it will have taken a toll on him, so thank you for coming forward when you did.”
Gaerlin’s face flushed with relief, then sadness. “He will be greatly saddened over the ruin of his surprise.” He said in grief.
Thranduil walked forward and clasped the young elf’s shoulder. “Do not worry. Give the knife to Legolas as planned and I will think of some way to absolve him of this supposed punishment without spoiling the surprise. I would not dare to ruin it after this much turmoil has gone into the making of it!”
Gaerlin flashed him a relieved smile, then left to freshen up and recover from his scare. “Do not say it,” Thranduil warned as he turned reluctantly to meet his friend’s condemning gaze. “I know…I was too hasty. It is as you said. Enjoy this moment, old friend, for it is one of the few in which I will admit you were right!” he smiled sadly at Galion, who could not prevent a slight smile at his friend’s comment, though his face was also laced with sadness, along with anger at his friend’s harsh treatment of the elfling.
“Saes, Thranduil. Make it right with the child soon. I fear for him.” Thranduil nodded and left the room without preamble, leaving the gold coins scattered forgotten on the floor where a saddened Galion retrieved them, placed them in their bag, and took them off to the treasury. He had a feeling that neither he nor Thranduil would ever wish to lay eyes on these particular gold pieces again!
Thranduil knocked softly on Legolas’ bedchambers door and entered without waiting for a response, coming to a stop when he saw the child curled up in a tiny ball, his thumb in his mouth, his blanket held close—even in sleep—and his eyes closed! The father frowned to see the closed eyes, knowing that it was his fault entirely that they were this way. His frown grew deeper as he saw the shivering of the small body and the child began to toss and turn restlessly. He went over to the bed and sat down beside the elfling, scooping him up swiftly into his arms and hugging him close. The movement immediately woke the child in the middle of his terror-filled dream. “No!” he cried out, thinking instantly that his hands were being cut off, just like in his dream. He became aware in an instant that he was in his Adar’s arms though, and confusion filled the still moisture-laden eyes at the realization. “A-Ada?” he mumbled sleepily. “I-is it time…” he took a shaky breath. “Is it t-time…to cut off my hands?” The child could not prevent another tear at the words, and Thranduil’s heart shattered in that instant as he drew his son closer.
“Nay, Legolas! Oh, penneth! I’m not going to cut off your hands! I never was, ion nin. I only said it to frighten you. I thought it might make you tell me why you took the coins. Forgive me, little one. I should have never said thus to you!” A tear escaped from the king’s own blue eyes and Legolas’ eyes widened at the sight.
“Ada?” he whispered, lifting a little hand up to gently brush away the tear. “Ada…you are crying… Ada, you cannot cry! It is to be your Begetting Day soon, and you should be happy now!” At those words from his purely innocent and sweet elfling, the mighty and fearful king of the Woodland Realm did something unheard of by many of his subjects, he broke into sobs as he clasped his child to him in a death grip and cried into the small shoulder and the golden hair, regretting with every ounce of his being his careless decision to scare the innocent elfling in such a way. “Forgive me, Legolas. Forgive me, son. I love you dearly.”
He pulled back then, gathering his emotions and gripping the child’s upper arms tightly. “Legolas, I will allow you to work for the gold if that is your desire. We will talk about the terms in a few days. For now, I think you’ve had enough of a scare as your current punishment. Let us spend the next few days together and get ready to enjoy the celebration.” The king placed a kiss on his son’s pale cheek, then he bent and placed one on the other cheek…and his forehead…and the top of his golden head…and his cheek again…
“AAAADAAA!” giggled the elfling at his father’s silliness. He sobered then. “Does that mean…does that mean you aren’t going to cut off my hands…ever??”
Thranduil frowned, reaching his slender hand over and giving the small stomach a tickle, bringing a smile back to his child’s face. “Nay, little one. Never!” he said firmly, standing up with his child firmly ensconced in his arms and walking out of the room with the surprised child to find him something to eat. Father and son spent an enjoyable evening together after dinner, reading and playing games together. Thranduil fell asleep that night with an elfling in his arms, not wanting to leave the child alone after the traumatic day.
And, two days later, it was a very surprised and ecstatic king who received a kingly knife as a Begetting Day gift, one given by an excited and proud elfling, his friend Gaerlin standing beside him with a look of sheer relief and happiness at the child’s joy. And, strangely enough, Thranduil never did get around to mentioning the gold coins again, or assigning some tasks to Legolas so that he could earn the ‘borrowing’ back. Though many months later the tutor did manage to incorporate a very long and thorough lesson into his daily plans—at the specific request of the king—that taught the elfling all about the various types of money and forms of exchange among the different races of Middle Earth.
If Legolas wondered about any of it, he never did mention it, for he was terrified to bring up the subject of gold coins in his father’s presence again unless the king specifically mentioned it first. Perhaps Galion laid the child’s fears to rest and he knew not to bring it up. Whatever the reason, the touchy subject was left far behind in the past, and Thranduil was hard put to even raise his voice to his elfling for a long time afterwards!
Summary: A young elfling wants to get his Ada a special gift for his Begetting Day, but how is he to earn the money necessary to purchase it?
Rating: K+ for angst and mention of potential torture
A small, blonde-haired elfling shuffled along dismally down the long, dark corridor of the cave-castle in which he lived, his head hanging down as he stared unthinkingly at the stone floor as he walked. Clad in the greens and browns of the forest outside his home, his soft, green velvet boots made more of a sound than usual on the hard stone, though only elven ears would still have been able to detect the small sound. If any elven ears did hear the sound, they would have immediately known that the child was troubled about something. For this particular child was grace epitomized, and never did he make sounds when walking, nor hardly in his noisiest play. He was a quiet child, reflective and gentle, kind and loving in spirit, and empathetic to a fault.
This golden child was none other than the only child of Thranduil, the great elven king of what was once known as Greenwood, but which was fast being overtaken by the encroaching darkness and had been adequately but perhaps dishearteningly renamed Mirkwood. And, it was this child’s loving nature that had him in such a dismal quandary now, for his beloved Adar was soon to have his Begetting Day. It was an important one in the lives of elves, for it marked another millennia of years, not just a few dozen or so, and the cave-like castle was in an uproar with festivity preparations, for there was to be a large celebration for the woodland folk in commemoration of their king’s grand day.
Now, one might ask why a small elfling would be so sad about his father’s grand day and an upcoming celebration that was sure to be filled with many delicious foods and exciting activities for the realm’s very own prince. But this particular elfling would have happily given up his chance at a yummy pastry or participation in the fun games for one small thing (or not small thing depending on how one viewed it): ten gold pieces with which to purchase a particular gift for his Adar for his Begetting Day. That was what the small prince yearned for with all his heart, and that is what he had spent the past several weeks trying desperately to obtain. He had failed, however, and now his only recourse was to contemplate something that he had no desire to do, but that his small heart desperately urged him to, for he did not wish to disappoint his beloved Adar on his big day with no gift from his own son!
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This tale started three weeks prior with a visit by a host of Mirkwood delegates, along with the king himself and his small child, to the mannish settlement of Laketown for trade negotiations and supplies. Thranduil, ever the protective father,—and more so since the passing of his beloved wife—had not let the little elfling out of his sight for a second of time as they perused the many booths of the marketplace. Thus, the child had been at his elbow when Thranduil admired a particular unblemished blade, one inlaid with fine strands of gold in the ornate handle and carved on both handle and shining blade with elvish runes in Quenya. The intelligent young prince Legolas had recently mastered the art of reading—most recently that of Quenya, a slightly more difficult and less-used language—and could tell that it was an ancient elven blessing, one that his tutor had read to him in class once and made him memorize.
May you be blessed with true aim in battle, a wise heart, a forgiving spirit, and the wisdom to know when to stay your hand.
May you have true success in battle at all times, the constant love of your family and friends, and a long life in a beautiful land.
The small prince had liked this blessing, especially inscribed as it was on a weapon of war. It made him feel like his Adar would be safe if he wielded it in battle.
Thranduil recognized this blade as one similar to the one his grandfather had once possessed. Though it was not the same blade, it brought back nostalgic memories of his childhood and family that he rarely allowed himself to think about. It was with a sad glint to his blue eyes that he finally laid the blade down, not knowing that two small, identical blue eyes were carefully watching his features and making mental notes for future reference. Thranduil had walked on then, choosing only to purchase the supplies he had come there for. In a time of war, one did not waste the kingdom’s money on trivial wants, the stout-hearted king firmly believed, and he would not make a frivolous purchase for himself when his own kingdom contained within it the very best in welders, bladesmiths, and elven crafters that could fasten weaponry fit for the Valar himself to possess.
As he had picked up his elfling and carried him on one arm while continuing to peruse the goods in the marketplace, huge eyes had looked back at the table with the special knife. Two men had gathered at the table, likewise admiring the blade and discussing it in low tones that easily reached the elfling’s keen ears. The larger man, the one with strangely greying hair—the child had never seen grey hair before except on Mithrandir, the wizard—was turning the blade over in his hands reverently while speaking to his friend, a shorter, slighter man with brown hair and hair on his face. “Ai, but I’d like to get this for my son for his coming of age next month. A fine blade this is—a blade fit for kings!”
The other man flashed him a sympathetic grin. “Ai, that it is. A fine piece of money it costs too. I don’t happen to have a ten piece lying around, and I doubt you do either, old friend. I’d say you need to be content to lower your sights to one of these well-made dwarven blades here. They are no less fine.”
Thranduil spoke to Legolas then, pointing out a booth with baked goods and various types of sweets. “Legolas, would you like to get a sack of sweets to share amongst your friends at home?”
The small elf turned his head from where it was perched over his Ada’s broad shoulder, his eyes lighting at the offer of the unexpected treat. “Oh, yes please, Adar!” he breathed, his blue eyes growing round with pleasure at the sight of so many different types of sweets. The small elfling did not forget the men’s words, however.
Legolas was known to be a very smart elfling, but he had not yet learned the different forms of money amongst the races of Middle Earth. When his keen ears had caught the word ‘ten piece’, he thought to himself, ‘That is not too bad. All I have to do is earn ten pieces of gold and I can buy that beautiful knife Ada liked for his begetting day. Ada has hundreds upon thousands of gold pieces in the treasure room. Surely he will let me earn it in some way.’ And it was with much excitement and trepidation that the elfling went home with his Adar that day, determined in his mind to find some way of earning the necessary money for his father’s gift.
The next day found a small, golden elfling skipping down the long hall of the castle towards the throne room, where he promptly requested an audience with the king from a smiling guard, who let the child in and motioned him to stand at the back of the room until he was addressed by the king. Legolas straightened his shoulders and stood as tall as he could. He was there for business, and he needed to make himself appear as old as possible so that his Ada would hopefully take him seriously.
Thranduil had paused for half a second in his discussion with Galion when the child came in, one fair eyebrow rising in surprise. Legolas knew he was not to disturb business in the throne room, but the guard’s positioning of the child at the rear of the room, along with a subtle glance at his king, let him know that his son was here for exactly that: some type of business. His curiosity getting the best of even the all-wise and ancient king, he exchanged a glance with his old friend and esteemed aide, Galion, who allowed a slight shrug to grace his lithe shoulders. He had not the slightest idea what the child had in mind, but he was equally curious to see this played out! All in the kingdom loved the golden prince, not least of all Thranduil’s closest friends like Galion, who had joyfully shared in watching the tiny child grow from birth.
Thranduil cleared his throat, meeting his son’s pure blue gaze and motioning him forward. “You may approach,” he said in a firm voice, the usual tone he would use with any others that requested a meeting with him during the day. He kept his features carefully schooled, determined to keep his amusement from showing at what the child was obviously taking seriously. Legolas’ fair young face was shining with innocence and determination, but the king detected a slight trace of doubt in the depths of the huge blue eyes as he took brave steps forward until he reached his Ada.
Dropping to his knee like he’d seen one of the men from Laketown do during a visit to Mirkwood a few years ago, the elfling lowered his head. “M-my Lord…” The child paused, gathering his courage as he took a deep breath. “I am here to request work… I can do many different tasks…such as deliver messages, clean the castle or stable…I am very handy my Lord…at many things…” He kept his head bowed, knowing that was protocol until his father gave him permission to rise, so he did not see the stunned expression that flitted across both Thranduil’s and Galion’s faces as they exchanged a swift glance.
“Rise, Legolas, and look at me.” He commanded, making sure the surprise was gone from his face as the child stumbled nervously to his feet and met his father’s gaze with an equally nervous expression. “Why ever do you wish to work, child? You have everything you need right here.”
Legolas bit his lip, his tiny heart quaking at the next words he knew he must speak. He was not sure how his Ada would take it! “I need to earn ten gold coins, my Lord. I assure you I will do the best job possible at whatever task you give me.” He spoke quickly this time, trying to rush through the ‘ten gold coins’ part and distract his Ada with the talk of work.
Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up. “Why ever do you have need of gold coins, Legolas? If you need anything, tell Galion or myself and we will ensure you receive it, within reason of course. And ten gold coins is no small amount. I see no reason that an elfling would have any need of such a large sum.”
Legolas bit his lip, lowering his head and staring at the ground. He dared not let slip why he wanted the coins. It would ruin the surprise for Ada! Rubbing the toe of his boot against the hard surface of the floor, he remained silent, not knowing with what to respond without his father finding out the secret.
Thranduil frowned, growing impatient with the child’s lack of response and strange behavior. “Legolas, if you cannot tell me why you want the coins, I cannot even make a decision.”
The small elfling lifted huge eyes back up to meet his Ada’s frowning gaze, his lower lip beginning to quiver as the stressful situation threatened to bring tears to the beautiful eyes. Thranduil saw this, but he knew he could not just acquiesce to such a request when there seemed to be no logical foundation to it. “Ad…I mean…my Lord, I have an imminent need for the coins, but I cannot tell you the reason why. I am willing to work hard to earn them…” The pleading eyes tugged at Thranduil’s heartstrings, and he could hear Galion softly clear his throat at his side, equally affected by the angelic look.
He sighed in frustration. “Legolas, if you cannot even tell me why you wish the coins, I have no choice but to deny your request. Besides, you are a prince of this kingdom. You have no business or need to do menial tasks for pay. Not to mention that you are only a tiny elfling who has lessons to complete every day. Speaking of which…are you not supposed to be in lessons right now?” He tilted his head, his expression turning grim as he realized his son would be late for lessons. “Do not come in here with senseless requests, ion nin,” he warned with a grim voice.
“B-but Ada…” Legolas stumbled, forgetting in his nervousness that he was supposed to be in audience with the King, not his Adar.
Thranduil held up his hand for silence, his patience at an end and his thoughts already on the many tasks he needed to complete that day himself. He was a loving father to his elfling, but he could not and would not tolerate foolishness or idle demands. “That is my decision,” he snapped, wincing inwardly as the innocent blue eyes widened in alarm at his father’s tone. “Now get to your lessons and be grateful that you do not receive a punishment for being late. Be sure to ask forgiveness of your tutor for your tardiness.” He turned his head away then, letting his son know the subject was closed and trying not to see the immediate slump of the tiny shoulders and the dejected posture as the child slowly left the room.
Galion frowned in concern as he watched the child leave. He could not defend the little prince’s position, because Legolas had not given any reason, but he did not like to see the child so discouraged. He rather thought that Thranduil should have tried a little harder to find out what the reason was, or listen a little more carefully to the child’s request. He sighed, shaking his head slightly then forcing his thoughts back to the matters at hand. There were many papers to go through, patrols to arrange with his King, and matters of the celebration to finalize. He hoped that whatever was on Legolas’ mind was not anything too important…
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Legolas, ever the obedient elfling, did go straight to his lessons that day and apologize to his tutor. His mind was not on his schoolwork, however, and the tutor could easily see that the elfling was distracted. Concerned about the abnormal behavior—the elfling was the best and one of the most intelligent students he’d ever had the pleasure of tutoring—the elder elf, Ithilfin, cajoled the child into telling him what was wrong. As the stuttering elfling finished telling him his tale of woe, a few tears escaping from the clear blue eyes, Ithilfin frowned. He too, could not fathom why the child would have need of gold pieces, and Legolas had decided he must keep it a secret from everyone so that his Ada could not possibly find out and spoil the surprise.
Ithilfin paled when the huge blue eyes lifted up to meet his worried gaze. “Master Ithilfin…do you know of any work I could do to earn gold coins?” There was a pause as the elder elf wondered how to address the question and Legolas contemplated his further words. “D-do you think…do you think mayhap… I could do some work for you?” The child’s lower teeth grabbed the edge of his upper lip anxiously as he clasped his small hands together and put all the pleading of his being behind his words. Groaning inwardly, the elder elf placed a kind hand on the small, thin shoulder.
“I’m sorry, child. I would be more than happy to do so, but I cannot undermine what your Lord father has already decided. I’m afraid you must somehow convince your Adar if you are to find work you can do for pay, for no other elf would be allowed to do any differently than I without the express permission of the King.” Ithilwin felt his heart tear in two at the child’s forlorn features and the two tears that trickled down the beautiful elven face. Wanting to cheer the little one up, he was swift to offer him the rest of the day off from his studies, watching with a heavy heart as the child bowed dismally and left with only half a smile of gratitude and a weak “Hannon le, Master,” for his efforts.
Legolas spent the next several weeks trying to obtain work from the head stablemaster, the elven crafters and smiths, the bargemaster, the weaponry instructor, and even the head cook, only to receive the same answer as Ithilfin had given him. (All except the weaponry instructor, who informed him grimly that elflings had no place on the sparring field, and his father would hear from him if he asked again, thoroughly managing to terrify the small elf). The discouraged elfling finally resorted to full-out pestering his father for permission in a more relaxed setting. He quickly found out the futility of this recourse, however, for the king only became angered at what he felt was a deliberate attempt on Legolas’ part to withhold information from him, and the child was forced to quickly drop the subject before things grew uncomfortable.
Now, three weeks later, he had come to the very dismal conclusion that his only recourse was to ‘borrow’ the gold coins in time to convince one of the elves on the barges to purchase the knife for him on one of his many trips up the river to Laketown in time for his Ada’s celebration. ‘After all’, his childish mind reasoned, ‘I am the prince, and whatever belongs to Ada sort of belongs to me too. I can tell Ada after his Begetting Day, while he is still happy over his beautiful knife, and tell him that I of course want to work to pay it off. I’m sure he will understand.’
With this thought in mind, the little prince found it fairly easy to sneak into the treasure room one evening, since the guards were not looking for tiny elflings and the child had long ago learned the art of playing hide and seek and effectively disappearing. With the ten gold pieces safe in his pockets, he had a more difficult time getting out of the treasury room, because the guards never entered the room itself without a good reason. He was forced to wait several hours until the keeper of the treasure arrived as he did every day to go through the various gold and gems and ensure all was in order, at which point he managed to slip out underneath the hem of the elder elf’s robes and slip through the door before it was closed.
Unfortunately, the small elf did not realize that the keeper would immediately detect the absence of a few small pieces of gold—this had been his job for millennia, and he knew the layout of every small part of the room—nor did he realize that the elder elf felt the draft as his robes were swept aside and turned just in time to see a slight form disappear around the corner—a familiarly small form with golden hair. The keeper lost no time in searching through the room, quickly spotting the table from which the gold had been removed, keen eyes noting the slight change in how the coins had been arranged. Though he could not determine exactly how many pieces had been taken, he knew that some had, and that was enough to force him with a heavy heart to go immediately to the king with the news that his beloved elfling had stolen from his own father.
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A short while later found a furiously pacing King in the throne room, along with an equally disturbed Galion. Thranduil had dismissed the keeper after thanking him for his efficient observance. Though the keeper had not known how much gold was actually missing, Thranduil had—ten gold coins, to be exact. Now he must determine how to best handle this situation, for he still had no idea why his child wanted the coins in the first place.
As Galion watched the king’s ire grow with each passing moment, he attempted to calm him down into some semblance of reason. “My Lord, the child seemed almost desperate to obtain some work, and he did try to earn the money legitimately first. I must advise caution in this matter. Perhaps Legolas had a valid reason for needing the coins.”
“Galion, my friend, I can think of no valid reason for my own child to steal gold pieces from me. If he were a starving orphan from the streets, it could be excused. But Legolas has every need taken care of even before it is suspected. He lives in a style befitting high kings, and he has only to ask if anything else is needed or wanted within reason. No, I cannot let this slide. He refuses to tell me why he needed the coins as well, making the crime even more dire. This behavior is certainly not befitting a young elvish prince, and I cannot and will not tolerate it!” Thranduil’s pacing became more rapid as his frustration grew at every sentence.
“But, Sire, the child is a good child! You know this! I cannot help but think there is some good reason he would do such a thing. I just think you should tread lightly in this matter. Legolas is a sensitive elven child, and if punished unfairly, he may sicken.” Galion wrung his hands together worriedly, his anxiety for the child forcing him to become more bold in his words. He had been friends with Thranduil even before he was king, however, and he would not sit idly by and watch an error be made by his friend, not when it concerned an adorable, angelic elfling prince!
Thranduil stopped pacing and turned to face his trusted aide and longtime friend. His features were marred with concern mingled still with anger. “You speak the truth, mellon nin, yet I must somehow instill a lesson into Legolas that he won’t soon forget. This is just not something I can EVER allow to go unpunished, no matter the reason.” He lowered his head for a moment, deep in thought. Then his face lit up and he raised his gaze to meet the watching one of his friend. “I think…perhaps…I shall try a different tactic with Legolas this time than the usual chores and loss of privileges. I am going to scare him into telling me the truth, at the very least, and then perhaps I can make a better decision on what other punishment is necessary.”
Galion frowned, tilting his head ever so slightly. “How do you intend to scare him, my Lord?” His tone was laced with worry for the small elfling. Thranduil was known to have a temper, and if he thought someone was doing a great wrong, his ire was dreadful to behold. Galion hated to see it aimed towards the tiny elfling that he loved so dearly.
Thranduil waved one slender hand carelessly in the air. “Oh, I will think of some horrible punishment that befits his crime and make him think that’s to be his fate.” The king wanted to focus on his new task now, anxious to see how it would play out, and did not look up to see his butler’s worried expression.
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In the meantime, Legolas had lost no time in getting his gold coins to one of his trusted friends working on the barge. Gaerlin was a young elf that spent much time playing with the child, having left his elflinghood not too long ago and able to relate a little better to the small prince. He was one of the few grownups that Legolas felt he could trust with this secret, and he knew that Gaerlin was taking a trip to Laketown that very afternoon to deliver some empty barrels.
Gaerlin was curious at first and asked the child where he had gotten the gold, but when Legolas explained what he wanted to purchase with it, a Begetting Day gift for his Ada, he did not think there was any cause for concern. Legolas mentioned that he had earned it by doing some work and for future work (feeling quite satisfactory in his mind that he would be given the opportunity to do so and only feeling a small twinge of guilt at the small untruth), and that was good enough for the youthful barge elf. With a smile and a tweak of the small nose, he left to prepare for the trip, the gold safely in his own pocket and with a smiling reflection on the little elf’s selflessness in wanting to buy his Adar such a nice gift.
Feeling quite ecstatic over accomplishing his mission, the elfling skipped happily back up the trail to the gates of the keep, trying to push his guilt from taking the coins aside long enough to think about how his Ada’s face would light up when he saw the knife at his Celebration. Gaerlin should return with the sword sometime that evening and would deliver it to Legolas the next morning. He had only to wait until the next day during the Celebration to surprise his Ada! He hummed a little song to himself as he grew closer to the gates, his smile slipping slightly and the song stopping in mid-sentence at the sight of a waiting Galion, whose arms were crossed firmly across his chest.
He knew immediately that the much-loved elder elf was waiting for him, and he did not like the grim light in the familiar green eyes as his brown hair waved forgotten in the breeze, the elder elf’s gaze firmly fixed on the small child who stumbled to a stop, suddenly afraid of what was to come. Galion’s features softened ever so slightly as he registered the immediate fear in the small child. He held out his hand towards the elfling. “Come, penneth,” he said gently. “Your Adar wishes to see you.” Legolas turned huge blue eyes up to view his friend since his birth, the suddenly watery depths filled with not a small amount of fear.
“I-is Ada mad at me, Galion?” he whispered as he reached for the elder elf’s hand, feeling a small amount of comfort in the warm and familiar grip. Galion sighed. Thranduil had commanded that he be firm with the child when he brought him to the throne room, but he had not the heart to do so. There was only so far one could be expected to go when it came to little beloved elflings, he mused as he scooped the child up into his arms, giving him a gentle squeeze and smoothing back tussled hair from the now pale and unhappy features.
Galion laid a kiss on the child’s forehead as he walked inside the keep and headed towards the throne room where Thranduil wished to confront the child. “I think he just might be, penneth,” he said sadly, giving him another squeeze as he felt the small body begin to shake in nervous fear. “Penneth, I think it would help your case greatly if you only told your Adar the truth of the matter.” He pulled back from the shivering child and tilted the small chin up with one hand to meet his serious gaze. “Can you do that for me, little one? I do not wish to see things so bad between your Adar and you. Nor do I wish to see you unhappy.”
Legolas bit back a sob as he pushed through the hand on his chin and buried his face in the other’s warm shoulder. “You do not understand,” he sniffled sadly as he tried desperately to push back the threatening tears. “Ada does not understand either…no one understands…” Another soft sniff gripped the elder elf around the area of his heart, and a dark expression marred his fair features. The child was right. He did not understand, but he knew something was not quite right about the matter. He only hoped Thranduil would see reason before he scared the poor child to death. He looked back up to see that his feet had already carried them to the throne room entrance, and the guards were casting strange looks in his direction, as though they wondered why he was carrying the child—they had both been present when Thranduil had ordered Galion to retrieve him and show him no softness or comfort.
Galion flushed and hastily placed the still-sniffling elfling on the ground. He bent down to one knee before the small prince, squeezing a thin shoulder and wiping the few tears on his face away with his other hand. He then cupped the small chin, forcing the child to meet his gaze. “No tears, penneth. You are a brave, strong prince of the Woodland Realm. You must be courageous now. I will be right there the entire time.” He swallowed deeply at the searching blue eyes as the child listened closely. Legolas nodded, squared his little shoulders, then turned to walk into the throne room. He stopped suddenly and turned back, flinging himself unrestrainedly into the surprised aide’s arms for a last hug.
Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, the elfling smiled a watery smile up at him. “Hannon le, Galion. Amin meleth le.” He whispered as he turned once more and left the poor elder elf still on one knee to pick up the shattered pieces of his heart that were lying all over the cold floor of the cavern. Without preamble, the child marched into the throne room, straight up to the throne, and dropped immediately to one knee, his hands clasped together in front of him and his head bowed in submission. Legolas had a very bad feeling that he knew what this was about, for naughty deeds had a way of making themselves known, he had discovered, no matter how great the cause it was committed for.
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Thranduil sat upon his great throne, one leg draped over the other thigh and his long, slender fingers resting on the arms of the throne. His keen eyes were filled with a piercing wisdom not dissimilar to an eagle’s gaze as they assessed the small elfling. A slight frown crossed his face when the child walked boldly up the throne and dropped to his knee. It was quite obvious that Legolas knew why he was here, or he would have been hesitant, unsure in his manner. The angered father did not see any signs of remorse in the child’s actions, which made him angrier still. “Legolas, do you know why I have summoned you?” The slender hands gripped the throne arms tightly as he waited for the response.
Shining blue eyes looked up at him finally, and the king wondered if the child had been crying, for his eyes were a little too shiny. “I-I think so, my Lord,” the child answered then in a soft voice.
Thranduil pursed his lips. At least the child was not going to deny it! That would have incurred his wrath even more. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Galion slip into the room and hasten to Thranduil’s side. He had to bite back a grin as he realized his friend had no intention of leaving him alone with the elfling. It was amazing, really, how everyone thought he was going to lose control and beat the child, despite having never done so before! Thranduil gleaned no small amount of entertainment from this impression though—a sort of private joke that he chuckled about in the lone hours of reflection at night when he was unable to sleep. He pulled his thoughts back to the waiting gaze before him. “Do enlighten me then, elfling,” he said in an icy tone—one that sent shivers down the poor elfling’s spine.
“I-I think…” Legolas took a deep breath and tried again. “I-I think…perhaps…it is because I borrowed some gold pieces…” his voice trailed to a whisper as the king’s cheeks reddened and his eyes narrowed.
Thranduil had to bite the inside of his lip at the child’s utter audacity in an attempt to rein his temper in. ‘The child does not even have the grace to appear guilty about this!’ he thought angrily as he jumped to his feet, his tall frame towering over the kneeling elfling. “Borrowed??? BORROWED???” he shouted in rage, his fingernails digging deeply into his palms as he tried to calm himself. It scared Legolas so badly that he fell backwards to end up sitting on the floor, his hands splayed out behind him as he caught himself just in time to keep from ending up flat on his back.
“Rise, elfling!” The king commanded, his tone brooking no room for hesitation on Legolas’ part. He stumbled quickly to his feet to stand on quivering legs in front of his Adar and king. When the king was certain he had the elfling’s attention, he continued. “It is NOT called borrowing, when you take something without the owner’s permission. Do you know who that gold belongs to, Legolas? Well, do you?” he said the latter in a loud tone as the child hesitated in answering.
Legolas’ breaths started coming more rapidly as the fear began to take over his small body. He felt a little lightheaded and wondered vaguely what was wrong with him, not knowing that the stressful situation was sending him into a panicked sort of shock. “To you, Ada…” he whispered, rubbing his hands together nervously and trying not to burst into tears.
Thranduil took a step forward, knowing full well that this would intimidate the child even more. “Wrong!” he said in a now-too-quiet voice, the lack of volume scaring the poor child even more than the yelling. “It belongs to the realm, Legolas. That gold…the gold that you stole…it belongs not just to me, but to the entire realm. It is what I use to provide for the elves living in Mirkwood. So you have stolen not just from me, but from the entire population of Mirkwood!”
Legolas gulped and his eyes grew wide in disbelief. He had never known that before! He began to feel even more guilt at his actions. He hoped that he would be able to work off the gold pieces somehow so that he could pay back the realm. “I only borrowed it, Ada,” he said tentatively, somehow managing to keep his traitorous thumb from sneaking into his mouth from his fear and stress. “I will be working to make up for it, in whatever task you assign to me. “ The elfling risked a small, shaky smile. “It’s just like I said before, Ada. I will work hard for it…I promise…”
Thranduil stomped one boot down on the floor, the noise reverberating in the cavernous room and sounding even louder than it really was. “And did I not tell you NO?” His voice increased in volume at every word until he was screaming once more, immediately wiping the slight smile from the elfling’s face and filling his small features with grief and fear as he winced from the loud noise. One lone tear escaped down the little cheek as the child’s nerves began to betray him. “I…I am sorry, Ada…” he said forlornly, lowering his head in shame.
“Do you know what they do to thieves, elfling?” Thranduil leaned forward, his body almost pressing against the slight form before him, close enough for Legolas to fully feel his father’s rage and realize just how much trouble he was in.
Legolas gulped as he watched his father’s angry features, wondering vaguely who ‘they’ were. “N-no, Ada. I don’t know…” Another lone tear trickled down the pale, smooth cheek as the elfling tried desperately to keep from crying in front of his Ada and making things worse.
Thranduil, ignoring Galion’s worried expression in the background, moved one step further to the nervous child, his hands clasped firmly behind his back and his face completely blank of every expression except anger and disappointment. “They cut off the hand that did the stealing.” He said in a voice filled with ice and betrayal.
If possible, Legolas paled even more and took a small step back, his small body shaking even harder in fear as he brought first one small hand then the other up to look at in turn, as though he were contemplating the future loss. Finally, he squared his shoulders bravely, turned huge, moisture-laden eyes up to meet the still angry ones of his father, and said in a heartbreakingly small and dismal voice, “Ada, I’m afraid I don’t remember which hand took the coins.” There was a long pause as Thranduil bit his lip harshly in order to control his surprise at this statement and maintain an angry expression. Then, “D-does that mean I will lose both of my hands?” Two more tears trickled down the misery-filled face and the last word was breathed out on a sob.
Thranduil turned his head away quickly, working hard to keep the smile from his supposedly fierce expression. When he had finally gained control of his traitorous mouth and twinkling eyes, he turned back to face the elfling with as fiercest an expression as the poor child had ever seen. “Hmmm, I do not remember what the requirement is in a case like this. It is possible that the loss of two hands might be required, certainly.” Thranduil turned his head back to watch his son carefully through narrowed eyes. “However, if you are willing to disclose why you took the gold in the first place, I’m sure the court will take it into consideration. It might be that only one hand will be necessary.”
Galion closed his eyes and lowered his head, his heart pounding in dismay and fear for the tiny child. He had a strong feeling that Thranduil was overdoing this just a little. This was a harsh threat to a tiny little elf, no matter what the deed. He could understand the need to glean the truth from the child, but he wasn’t sure all of this was necessary. His heart ached to scoop the hurting child up into his arms and console him, and he did not know how Thranduil was managing to keep up this farce so well. He knew the king loved his only son fiercely, but it was difficult to see it at the moment.
Legolas looked up at his father, his eyes filled with disbelief as he tried to process what was happening. ‘No,’ he thought to himself. ‘I cannot spoil the surprise! I cannot! I must wait until the day after tomorrow. Even if I have to lose my hands, it’s worth it to get to give Ada a nice surprise that will make him happy!’ The tiny elfling could not fully contemplate what the loss of his hands would really entail, his child’s mind filled with innocence and a trust that would not allow him to think in terms of pain and grief. To his eyes, it would be a small thing quickly over, and he was sure that his hands must be able to grow back, or Ada would not have threatened it. It would surely hurt though—of that he was sure of—and he found his gaze drifting back to his small hands, wondering how Ada would cut them off. Biting back another shaky sob, he clasped them tightly together, shoving them underneath the edge of his tunic in a subconscious effort to hide them and keep them safe before raising his gaze back up to the waiting Thranduil.
“I am sorry, Ada…truly I am…but I cannot yet tell you why I took the gold. I can tell you in a few days…but I cannot tell you now.” The elfling chewed on his lip once more as he tried to control his emotions, casting a quick glance over to Galion who lowered his head in discouragement at the elfling’s words. There would be no stopping Thranduil’s plan now, not if the child refused to cooperate.
Thranduil’s vigilant gaze had caught the child’s every movement, including the glances at his hands and the subtle shift to hide them. His own heart quelling just a little, he decided to give the child a slight reprieve and regroup with Galion to figure out a plan that would get the child to talk. He would never really cut off the poor elfling’s hands, of course, but he had hoped the threat would work to open up the elfling’s mouth and make him confess the reason behind his madness. He clasped his hands behind his back, rocking back slightly on the heels of his boots.
“If that is your decision, elfling,” he said in an eerily calm voice compared to the shouting a few moments before. “You are to go straight to your bed chambers and wait there. You will receive no dinner, and you will think about why you have committed such an atrocious deed as to steal from our people. I will come to retrieve you for your punishment later on, at which time you will find out firsthand why thieves never steal again…” he let the words trail out, sending chills through both the little elf and Galion, who almost took a step forward to stop Thranduil from carrying this any further.
Before he had the chance, though, Thranduil lost his patience at the gaping expression on his child’s face and shouted once more. “GO! NOW!” And Legolas went. He scurried quickly out of the room on legs filled with jelly, losing no time in retiring to his chambers and throwing himself on his bed, where he grabbed up his waiting blanket and cried bitterly into his pillow, finally letting loose the many emotions of not just that day but the many days prior, and eventually crying himself into a restless sleep filled with dreams of lone and bloodied hands floating around in a dark sky.
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In the throne room, Galion was now the one pacing back and forth in front of Thranduil, his conscience not willing to let this lie. “It is too much, Thranduil! It is just too much! He is only a little elfling! You should not have done this!” he lamented to his old friend as Thranduil reclined once more on his throne, throwing his leg over a thigh like before and leaning back carelessly as he watched his friend pace and rant, amusement lingering in his eyes.
“And I say it will surely work,” he stated calmly. “You saw how much it scared him. After he has had some time to think on it, his tongue will loosen. Besides, old friend,” he raised a blonde eyebrow as he looked at his friend, “is this not better than the physical punishment you are so fearful of?”
Galion’s mouth dropped open. “How did you know…” he started.
“I have always known,” the other said. “It is obvious that many here think I’m going to immediately start thrashing the child, despite the fact that I’ve never laid a hand on him. One would think I’m a monster to the child the way you all act sometimes!”
Galion had the grace to flush. “Well…you did just threaten to cut off his hands, my Lord…” he said weakly, feeling a little guilty that he always thought the worst of his friend’s temper when it came to the little prince.
“And you know I would never do such!” cried Thranduil indignantly. “It IS necessary that we learn why Legolas stole the gold, considering that he has never behaved this way in his life.”
Galion sighed then. “Yes…I just feel sorrow for the boy…I do not know why he refuses to tell us.”
The two discussed the matter a while longer, then dealt with more of the realm’s business until dinner, which Thranduil had delivered to the throne room, not wishing to eat in the dining hall without his elfling there to fill the night with his childish chatter. As the hours drew on, the king began to feel a little guilty over scaring the child so badly, and he found himself wondering if he should go up and visit him soon to see how he was faring. They had barely finished their dinner though when the throne room door slammed open and one of the barge elves came running in, sliding to a stop and kneeling belatedly before the king with bowed head, his actions strained and nervous.
Thranduil recognized this particular elf. This was Gaerlin, Legolas’ good friend. Curious, the king motioned for the other elf to rise, giving him leave to speak. The younger elf met his eyes boldly, worry in his young face. “My Lord, forgive me for the interruption…but I have just returned from Laketown and heard a rumor that the elfling was going to get punished for thievery…in a horrible manner…”
The king frowned, exchanging glances with Galion whose fair face freely displayed his curiosity. “The elfling is in trouble, yes…” he said slowly.
Gaerlin bowed his head for a moment, his shoulders slumping, then he gathered himself and looked at both of the elder elves in turn. “I hope the elfling will forgive me for this, but I cannot allow this to continue. My Lord, please…I assure you, if it is true that the elfling took the coins, he has every intention of working to repay the loss, and I deeply assure you, his intentions in doing so were of the purest in nature…”
Thranduil’s eyes widened slightly. “And how do you know this?” He said slowly.
Gaerlin’s face turned red. “Because the young prince made a request of me earlier. He gave me leave to purchase an item in Laketown with ten pieces of gold. I asked him where he had gotten the money and he told me he was going to be working to earn it. Only…when I got to Laketown to purchase the item, I discovered it was actually only a cost of a ten piece. I assume the elfling did not understand the men’s form of exchange and misunderstood. I was able to buy it for less than one piece of our gold, and I have the rest here.”
The young elf then drew a small bag out of his pocket and went to his knees, pouring out the pieces of gold onto the floor before the throne. As nine coins clinked noisily to the floor, Thranduil paled, imagining a tiny, innocent elfling thinking that a ten piece meant ten pieces of gold. He looked up at Galion once more, guilt in his eyes. There was still an important question to be addressed, however, and he turned back to the once more standing Gaerlin.
“But what could he possibly want to buy there…that he is not provided with here?” he asked in somewhat of a daze at this entire matter. Gaerlin bit his lip as he thought for a moment, then made an impromptu decision. No surprise was worth this much trauma to a little elfling! He drew a longer package out from behind his belt, drawing the cloth aside and exposing a brilliant, gleaming knife of the highest make. Both elder elves gasped at the sight, Galion as he wondered why an elfling would make such a purchase, and Thranduil as he immediately recognized the knife displayed before him and began to get a nagging feeling of premonition in his stomach. He had a strange feeling that he knew what the younger elf would next say.
“He wanted to purchase this for you, Sire, as a Begetting Day gift. He wished it to be a surprise until your celebration starts the day after tomorrow, and I know he will be disappointed, but I could not allow the child to endure such a horrible punishment!” The young elf dropped once more to a knee. “Saes, Sire, I beg of you, do not punish the child so harshly! He is but a tiny elfling that desired to surprise his Ada with a nice gift on his Begetting Day!”
Thranduil groaned then, placing a hand over his face as the elf’s words smote him to his very core. ‘Ai, how I have wronged the child,’ he thought bitterly, feeling Galion’s glare even through his hand splayed over his grief-ridden features. Gathering control, he removed his hand and managed a shaky smile at Gaerlin. “Thank you, young one, for coming to tell me. I was not going to cut off the child’s hands. I would never harm him! I did threaten to do so, however, in an attempt to scare the truth from him as to why he stole the gold. I fear the child has been allowed to think this for many hours, and it will have taken a toll on him, so thank you for coming forward when you did.”
Gaerlin’s face flushed with relief, then sadness. “He will be greatly saddened over the ruin of his surprise.” He said in grief.
Thranduil walked forward and clasped the young elf’s shoulder. “Do not worry. Give the knife to Legolas as planned and I will think of some way to absolve him of this supposed punishment without spoiling the surprise. I would not dare to ruin it after this much turmoil has gone into the making of it!”
Gaerlin flashed him a relieved smile, then left to freshen up and recover from his scare. “Do not say it,” Thranduil warned as he turned reluctantly to meet his friend’s condemning gaze. “I know…I was too hasty. It is as you said. Enjoy this moment, old friend, for it is one of the few in which I will admit you were right!” he smiled sadly at Galion, who could not prevent a slight smile at his friend’s comment, though his face was also laced with sadness, along with anger at his friend’s harsh treatment of the elfling.
“Saes, Thranduil. Make it right with the child soon. I fear for him.” Thranduil nodded and left the room without preamble, leaving the gold coins scattered forgotten on the floor where a saddened Galion retrieved them, placed them in their bag, and took them off to the treasury. He had a feeling that neither he nor Thranduil would ever wish to lay eyes on these particular gold pieces again!
Thranduil knocked softly on Legolas’ bedchambers door and entered without waiting for a response, coming to a stop when he saw the child curled up in a tiny ball, his thumb in his mouth, his blanket held close—even in sleep—and his eyes closed! The father frowned to see the closed eyes, knowing that it was his fault entirely that they were this way. His frown grew deeper as he saw the shivering of the small body and the child began to toss and turn restlessly. He went over to the bed and sat down beside the elfling, scooping him up swiftly into his arms and hugging him close. The movement immediately woke the child in the middle of his terror-filled dream. “No!” he cried out, thinking instantly that his hands were being cut off, just like in his dream. He became aware in an instant that he was in his Adar’s arms though, and confusion filled the still moisture-laden eyes at the realization. “A-Ada?” he mumbled sleepily. “I-is it time…” he took a shaky breath. “Is it t-time…to cut off my hands?” The child could not prevent another tear at the words, and Thranduil’s heart shattered in that instant as he drew his son closer.
“Nay, Legolas! Oh, penneth! I’m not going to cut off your hands! I never was, ion nin. I only said it to frighten you. I thought it might make you tell me why you took the coins. Forgive me, little one. I should have never said thus to you!” A tear escaped from the king’s own blue eyes and Legolas’ eyes widened at the sight.
“Ada?” he whispered, lifting a little hand up to gently brush away the tear. “Ada…you are crying… Ada, you cannot cry! It is to be your Begetting Day soon, and you should be happy now!” At those words from his purely innocent and sweet elfling, the mighty and fearful king of the Woodland Realm did something unheard of by many of his subjects, he broke into sobs as he clasped his child to him in a death grip and cried into the small shoulder and the golden hair, regretting with every ounce of his being his careless decision to scare the innocent elfling in such a way. “Forgive me, Legolas. Forgive me, son. I love you dearly.”
He pulled back then, gathering his emotions and gripping the child’s upper arms tightly. “Legolas, I will allow you to work for the gold if that is your desire. We will talk about the terms in a few days. For now, I think you’ve had enough of a scare as your current punishment. Let us spend the next few days together and get ready to enjoy the celebration.” The king placed a kiss on his son’s pale cheek, then he bent and placed one on the other cheek…and his forehead…and the top of his golden head…and his cheek again…
“AAAADAAA!” giggled the elfling at his father’s silliness. He sobered then. “Does that mean…does that mean you aren’t going to cut off my hands…ever??”
Thranduil frowned, reaching his slender hand over and giving the small stomach a tickle, bringing a smile back to his child’s face. “Nay, little one. Never!” he said firmly, standing up with his child firmly ensconced in his arms and walking out of the room with the surprised child to find him something to eat. Father and son spent an enjoyable evening together after dinner, reading and playing games together. Thranduil fell asleep that night with an elfling in his arms, not wanting to leave the child alone after the traumatic day.
And, two days later, it was a very surprised and ecstatic king who received a kingly knife as a Begetting Day gift, one given by an excited and proud elfling, his friend Gaerlin standing beside him with a look of sheer relief and happiness at the child’s joy. And, strangely enough, Thranduil never did get around to mentioning the gold coins again, or assigning some tasks to Legolas so that he could earn the ‘borrowing’ back. Though many months later the tutor did manage to incorporate a very long and thorough lesson into his daily plans—at the specific request of the king—that taught the elfling all about the various types of money and forms of exchange among the different races of Middle Earth.
If Legolas wondered about any of it, he never did mention it, for he was terrified to bring up the subject of gold coins in his father’s presence again unless the king specifically mentioned it first. Perhaps Galion laid the child’s fears to rest and he knew not to bring it up. Whatever the reason, the touchy subject was left far behind in the past, and Thranduil was hard put to even raise his voice to his elfling for a long time afterwards!