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The king paced the floor calmly, speaking casually. His words, however, were anything but a suggestion. He continued to pace the wooden floors of the room belonging to the prince and his wife. The elleth sat tucked away on the bed, an annoyed look etched into her beautiful features, The prince stood tall at the foot of the bed, arms crossed across his chest and jaw clenched as he listened to his father drone on. All were losing patience, in all honesty.
The king had sent the royal healer out after his examination, for the fifth time in two weeks. The healer had been called for the same reason the past four times, and he orders remained the same every time he left. Of course, the orders had been ignored every time, falling upon deaf ears. Or so Thranduil felt in his annoyance.
The healer had been sent for early one morning about two weeks before. The sun hadn’t yet cast its life through the windows, most elves were still ticked away in their beds. However, the prince and princess were not.
**
The pair had been tucked away and due to their late wake up call they were expecting- a luxury to the pair nowadays- , they hadn’t planned on awakening until breakfast was delivered to them by one of the trusty maids. That had been the plan, until the princess had awoken. She didn’t quite understand what had awoken her- the world being too silent and calm to wake even the lightest of sleepers- but she felt odd. She could not place the exact feeling with any previous moment in her life, but she had not felt odd since she was an elfling. After their younger years, elves rarely got sick or felt odd- the strong bodies and magic making it a worrying occurrence for any elf. The princess continued to sit for a while,trying to decide about the feeling. The feeling didn’t dissipate, a slight dizziness starting to form with it. The world felt like it was spinning. She brought one hand to her forehead, the other gripped the strong arm of her husband sleeping next to her. The prince awoke at the grip, bringing his hand to grip hers as he sat up next to her,
“ What is wrong, Love?” The Mirkwood royal spoke noticing his wife’s discomfort.
“ I just feel… wrong. I don’t feel normal.” She stated. She raised her head to meet his eyes, the world starting to spin faster as she did.
The prince looked at her, eyes full of concern. He stroked her hand with his thumb, his mind full of worry, He knew of the tales of the sickness in elves and he feared for her.
“ Shall I call for the healer?” he suggested softly. The princess shook her head, instantly regretting the motion as it enhanced her dizziness.
“ It is too early. If it does not subside by breakfast I will seek the healers tent.” she explained as she leaned against her husbands strong chest. She pressed her spinning head against his shoulder as he pulled her closer to himself.
The princess was not one to be weak. She pulled her strength from others; the smiles of her people as they flourished and thrived, being close to others. She pulled strength from the comfort of her husband, the dizziness dissipating slightly and she cuddled closer to him. The feeling of fatigue filled in the gap left by the dizziness and closed her eyes. The prince stroked down her long dark hair and down her back, repeating the action as she lulled to sleep. She had almost reached sleep, the darkness welcoming her. ready to catch her when she fell into it, when a wave of the uneasy feeling hit her once more, this time, hitting her in the stomach. The new feeling was one she could place in her memory- though the memory was from nearly nine centuries ago. It was a memory from her elfling days when she resided in Rivendell with her mother. It was a memory of her first berry season in in Rivendell and some carefully picked berries with Elladan and Elrohir. It was a memory of the discovery of her stomachs irritation with the berries the morning after eating a basket load herself. It was a memory of spending the next two days being best friends with a bucket. And the panic set it. The wave of panic jolted her stomach and she felt a rise within her. She pushed harshly off of her husband in a frenzy. Her feet his the floor as she rushed - lacking her normal grace- to the bathroom, She could hear her husband calling behind her- though her mind was swimming too much for her to make sense of what he was yelling. She barely made it to the toilet before her stomach retched. She remained there for some time, her stomach dispensing the dinner from the night prior before she felt her long hair being pulled from around her face and shoulders into the gentle hand of her husband, the other hand stroking her back consistently. She knelled there for a moment more, waiting for any more quakes in her stomach before she stood, Her husbands hands helping to ease her up. The dizziness returned with the standing motion and she was grateful for the loving hands supporting her. Her stomach remained at ease despite it.
“ I am sending for the healer!” The husband demanded. She would argue but she had known her prince husband for eight centuries, and though their marriage was still young - only a little over six decades old- she knew he would not budge on such an important matter. She walked to the sink - legs wobbling uneasily, husband walking closely behind- and washed the taste from her mouth. She then allowed herself to be lead to the bed by her husband and sat on the soft cushions while he sent for the healer.
The prince would have sent a maid or a guard to retrieve the old elf if it was not such an urgent matter. Instead, he ran himself to the healers door -unintentionally drawing the attention and alarm of several guards along his way and hastily knocked on it. The healer answered the door still in his night clothes and unprepared - both physically and mentally- for the sight of the prince.
“ You must come. It is my wife,” the prince rushed out as the elf eyed him. “ I wouldn’t disturb you if it was not necessary!” The prince insisted in panic. The old healer sighed.
“ You are much like your father, Prince Legolas.” The old elf said before pulling on a pair of boots, pulling his long wood colored hair into a ponytail and walking quickly behind the prince. When he reached the chambers, the healer quickly jumped into his work.
“ What seems to be the problem?” The healer spoke gently to the princess, noticing the fearful look on her face that reminded him of the faces of the prince- even the king- when he would see them during their younger years.
“ She has felt off, vomited this morning.” Legolas answered in his nervousness. He did not miss the glares he received from his wife and the healer.
“ That is correct.” She responded. her voice wavering slightly.
“ Have you felt dizzy?” The healer continued, placing a hand on her forehead.
“ Yes.” The princess clarified. The prince paced the floor, his arms crossed over his chest and nervously hovered over the healer. The princess sighed as she viewed him.
“ Legolas, outside!” she demanded, voice holding royal authority many thought she lacked. Legolas stopped mid pace, looking at his wife with a shocked expression on his face. He opened his mouth to protest, but was met with a challenging glare from the moss colored eyes of his wife. He decided to drop his argument and stomped out of the room, closing the door shut loudly behind him and shooing the door guards away.
The healer waited a moment before continuing on. He did not feel a fever from her, she looked healthy- exceptionally so, her skin glowing in a way he knew well. Her energy felt strong- though, understandably anxious.
“Are you sexually active?” The healer asked in a professional tone, not missing a beat. The princess looked at him with an obvious expression on her face.
“ I do not assume.” He assured as he continued his examination. He pressed around on her stomach finding no spots tender and felt nothing odd. He was almost positive in his diagnosis, but being that he could be beheaded- and would be- if his diagnosis was wrong and lead to a death, so he had one more question to ask to solidify his diagnosis.
“ When did you menstruate last?” the old healer asked without a flinch, grimace, or blush. His years has desensitized him, making him purely professional. The patient blushed slightly- a much out of character action for the bold elleth. She quickly recovered and thought about it. She remembered its appearance the day after the last feast, that day being roughly forty days ago. She met eyes with the healer and knew what he was leaning toward but she needed to hear him say it.
“ Forty days.” she stated positively.
“ That is not normal for you?” he questioned. She nodded her head no. “ Then I have my diagnosis.” He stated, opening his mouth to continue before being interrupted by the opening of the door.
“ That is great because we are waiting to know.” The king stated as he entered.Always one to make an entrance, she thought. Legolas followed in behind his father quietly, not missing the look his wife sent him that was not a glare but not a look of happiness either.
~
Legolas had stood outside the door after being dismissed from the chamber, pulling at the ends of his blonde hair nervously as he could no longer hear the conversation going on inside. What could they be discussing? Did she have other symptoms he had overlooked? Was she dying? Please do not let her be dying! The maids stood stoic and watched his madness.
“ Legolas!” he heard, turning his head to see the graceful figure of his father striding toward him. He smiled nervously at his father as he walked up to him.
“ Why are you here? At this hour?” Legolas inquired. It was early in the morning and the king had no outstanding reason to be there- not that he needed one, but he normally had one.
“ I heard a healer was called for our princess.” Thranduil explained, his words expressing slight worry despite his royal tone.
“ Why are you not inside with your wife?” he continued, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. He knew his son, how protective he was . His son would not leave his wife in a moment like this. Yet, here he stood.
“ They banished me from the room.” He sighed guiltily. “I suppose i was pacing and hovering and they found it hindering of the examination.” Thranduil nodded, that sounded like his son.
“ Well, they can not kick me out.” The king stated confidently- almost arrogantly- as he commanded the doors open and strolled in.
~
The healer looked toward the princess, asking for permission to share the diagnosis in front of their company. She nodded, knowing full well if Thranduil wanted the information, he would get it despite her disapproval.
“ It seems our princess is with child.” The healer stated confidently. The princess smiled nervously at the words, he stomach doing a slight flip.
Thranduil stood tall, arms crossed with fingers interlocked in front of him. His expression remained ever composed. The princess, however, noticed the twitching of the royals ears - an occurrence whenever he was surprised, despite his constant composure.
“ Oh.” was the kings only response, not said in question or with surprise. His response just simply stated.
The prince’s eyes widened, face contorted into a light look of surprise that didn’t relieve the princesses nerves. The prince lacked his normal composure.
“ I recommend mush rest and careful activity. The elven body - despite how strong it may be- goes through many changes during the first trimester of pregnancy. It is hard to know how your body will react. Allow your body to rest and adapt as much as you can. I will bring some vitamins and herbs to help with the pregnancy by the end of the day.” The healer droned on, his voice dull and professional.
“ Thank you for your services, you are dismissed.” Thranduil royally commanded. The healer bowed politely at the family.
“ If you have any questions or need my service, you know where to find me. Congratulations.” The healer stated genuinely before turning and walking out.
“ I shall leave you alone, but I expect both of you in the dining hall for breakfast.” The king announced before turning and leaving his robes flowing behind him as he closed the chamber doors.
The blonde prince stood staring at his wife for a moment, the princess not able to meet his eyes. The prince moved to the bed where his wife sat. She felt the bed shift under his weight as her eyes continued to stare down at the silk sheets on her lap, her fingers twirling the fabric between them. A thin hand- strong despite its thinness, gentle despite its strength and skill- softly stilled her nervous motions, the long fingers gripping hers and sending her strength and reassurance. She gripped his fingers tightly as she looked up to view his face, despite the pounding of her heart and flipping of her stomach. The lips of the elven prince were pulled into a wide smile, his eyes shining with joy she had seen in this strength and concentration on their wedding day when he viewed her as she strode down the aisle. Her heart relaxed, her stomach ceased its flipping at the happy look on his face. A smile broke out on hers.
“ It seems you have gifted me.” The princess stated in a small voice, her cheeks slightly blushing at the words.
“ That may be what they say, but I feel you have gifted me.” Legolas stated, voice holding a tone of awe.
“ You always seem to surprise me with your gifts- when you started courting me, your proposal now our child. Many would not dare try to surprise me. Yet, you do.” She smiled.
“ Are you ever disappointed with my surprises?” He questioned incredulously.
“ Not yet.” She beamed.
“ You do not understand how happy I am to hear that,” He sighed, relieved. “ I know this was not ever seriously discussed, and our marriage is still young but I am honestly so excited and happy, but I would never go against your choice if you were not ready for this and wanted to do something about it. I would respect your decision and support it. I would help you, protect you from my father- if necessary- , whatever you needed.” He explained seriously while his eyes softly looked into hers.
She hadn’t even thought of the option. The elven community was accepting and understanding of the choice, and many healers were willing to lend the service in necessary, but the option was rarely chosen. All the same, it was a choice her mother had almost made. Herself, she hadn’t considered it, had no need too. Although the news was surprising and she had worried over the reaction of her husband and the king, she had not even given that option a thought. Now that she had been relieved of her worry, she welcomed the thought of a child, a small bundle to take care of, to nurture and watch grow. Nothing would take it away from her now.
“ We’re going to have a baby.” she breathed, smile raising her cheeks, happy tears shining in her eyes.
“ You are going to have an heir.” She beamed at her royal husband as she gripped his hand and brought it to rest upon her still unchanged stomach. Legolas stroked the area with his thumb while he look upon her stomach. His mind filled with images of her stomach growing over the next year till the baby was in his arms.
“ We are going to have a baby!” The prince’s soft grey eyes met his wife’s green ones as he spoke before he brought his lips to hers in a sweet kiss.
At breakfast that morning, Thranduil had strongly encouraged- all but commanded- the princess do as little activities as possible. He had stated the importance of bed rest - causing the princess to roll her eyes- and forbade her from stepping a single foot on the archery and/or the training field- at which the princess said a very undignified “ you can’t tell me what to do!” and a whiny “You can’t stop me!” before her husband could calm her back into her chair. Thranduil couldn’t help the amused look on his face but continued to encourage - almost implore with- the princess to abide by his word, sending mental thoughts- that he knew she would not receive but he could not voice the words- that begged her to trust his knowledge in the matter. Though, the king also hoped his knowledge would not be needed and it would all be smooth sailing and an easy journey for her and her unborn child.
The healer was sent for again just two days later. The princess had gone about her royal duties as she had before. She was going about her duties as she normally would, ignoring the dull - extremely so, barely able to be felt - pain that resonated between her hips. She powered through the day, running errands, making appearances, and getting though all her usual tasks. It was not until she had settled she has noticed the dull ache. It wasn’t until later she noticed the blood. It hadn’t been more drops than would result from a cut finger, but with the circumstances, her stomach filled with the blackness of dread and she called for the healer. The old healer checked her over once more, assuring her and the royals who had -once again - barged in- that her and the unborn child were perfectly fine and that such events were normal. Though, he had demanded she rest, he chores and duties to be kept to a minimum. Thranduil had answered for her, all the while glaring at her, and assured the healer that she would rest. The princess only sighed.
As the weeks progresses, and the healer got sent for more often - the dizziness and faintness hitting her stronger and more often than not, in front of the king- the healers demands got stricter and more forceful till this final time, he had demanded bed rest and no other activity until her second trimester.
**
After the healer had been sent away, Thranduil paced the room, his voice level and even as he spoke to his daughter-in-law - though she had felt more like his daughter since the first moment he met her.
“ Your royal duties will now consist of you doing nothing but paperwork that can be completed here, in this bed. You will stay in this bed and will allow yourself to be taken care of. There will be no more castle wondering, or prank pulling, or Elk disturbing! Have I made myself perfectly clear?” The king commanded in his authoritative voice. The princess rolled her but understood his overbearing protectiveness over the situation. As mush as she despised being confined and feeling restless, she wanted her child strong and healthy unmeasurably more.
“ I understand.” She stated. Thranduil looked over her and noticed the lack of rebellion in her eyes, the lack of the normally mischievous smirk , and nodded at her, obviously content with her answer.
“ That is great to hear.” He concluded before he turned and walked out the heavy wooden chamber door.
“ If you boys are going to require me to spend every moment in the bed for the next two months, I am going to demand company.” The princess said in a tone not leaving any room for arguments.
The king turned his head to look at her. A smirk was held by her lips, the challenging smirk all had learned to take seriously, and an eyebrow raised. Thranduil looked at her for a moment, a small smile breaking out onto his face before he continued to walk out, his wooden heels clomping and echoing as he left.
“ Legolas, a word!” he shouted over his shoulder at his son as he left. The blonde prince sighed but followed his father out of the chamber, sending a soft smile over his shoulder to his wife as he walked.
Once outside and the chamber door had slammed shut behind them, the king stopped and turned to face his son.
“ Are you going to assure me that she will follow the healers orders?” He questioned to his son.
“ She is restless, not one to be able to stay in one spot for too long. Is she going to fully follow the orders of the healer and I this time? can you assure me? The king asked as he circled around his son. Legolas sighed,
“ She is serious about this. I know she may be a restless body, but she is not a reckless elf. I can assure you that my wife will follow the orders, even if it drives her out of her mind. This child means more to her than her own happiness and comfort.” Legolas stated confidently about his wife.
“ Good, I am glad.” Thranduil stated, content with the answer.
The king put a gentle hand on his sons shoulder as he smiled kindly to him.
“ I seemed to have forgotten to congratulate you, my son.” He whispered to him. “ I am very proud of who you have grown up to be and I am so happy with who you are.” He confided, his voice low. Legolas eyes his father, his grey eyes shining.
“ Thank you, father.” He awed. They both turned away . The king headed to his throne room, Legolas turned to return to his chambers and his wife.
**
The princess sat quietly on the bed, eyes scanning over the trade agreement in her palms. Feren sat on the foot of the four poster bed, all the while complaining about something she had long since stopped listening too. Instead, she found the old- boring, dull, ect.- trade agreement much more interesting- a testament to Feren’s social skills.
The royal had spent the last four days in this bed, the comfortable mattress starting to feel more like a prison with each passing moment. She had known it would be a difficult transition from an active elf constantly moving or performing some task, to a bed ridden mother-to-be. Yet, she did still feel that her husband getting to run around and go to archery practice and all that was extremely unfair. If she had to suffer, he should too. But she understood that he had taken on many of her tasks - a fact of which she was extremely grateful for and it made her love him impossibly more. Despite all his work, her husband spent as much time as possible with her - saving her from the general boredom and worst of all, from the boredom of Feren.
She was pulled from her thoughts- Feren pulled from his dull story- by the loud echoing noise of the chamber doors being pulled open. King Thranduil was standing between them in a regal grey robe and his crown of twigs and red flowers.
“ Feren,” He spoke as he entered the room, “ Your service is required and requested by Legolas. Go now!” The blonde king commanded before Feren quickly stood, bowed at the royals, and strutted out of the doors.
“ Is there something wring? What does Legolas need him for?” The princess’ voice held some worry as she inquired, her husband never needed the elf.
“ He does not require him or his assistance. Legolas just decided to save your from Feren ‘ boring you to death’.” Thranduil quoted dramatically. “ I can not imagine why you would die from Feren, but would willingly spend time with Lindir.” He murmured as he walked further into the room and stood at the foot of the bed.
“ Lindir may complain just as much as Feren but he can sing and play the harp better than any elf I have ever met, and he has more than enough embarrassing stories about Lord Elrond, and the Twins, to occupy any elf for a life time. Also, he will let you mess with his hair, which, I find holds much entertainment. Feren is dull and boring.” She defended. Thranduil smiled at the incredible and ridiculous elleth before him. She always offered entertainment.
“ To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the king?” She enquired.
“ Can a father not visit his pregnant daughter-in-law after he finishes his work early?” The king scoffed, a spurious look of offence on his face.
“ I suppose so.” The princess faked annoyance with a fake sigh. A smile spread across Thranduils face as she played along as many did not.
“ Legolas’ work is taking him longer today. He requested that I tell you that he will not be able to make your regular date.” The princess frowned “But I am here to fill in as a temporary replacement.” the king smiled as he sat at the foot of the bed. The princess smiled before sitting up and messing with the mass of white feather pillows behind her. She sat straighter against the pillows, adjusting several to sit in the empty space next to her. She locked eyes with the king and tapped the spot next to her where the pillows sat.
“ Take off your boots. Get comfortable.”Thranduil sat for a moment before standing and unbuckling his knee high brown boots and placing them on the floor with a thump. He pulled off his grey leaf patterned over coat, folding it, and tossing it onto the foot of the bed. He rested against the pillows that were propped against the dark wooden headboard, adjusting a few and throwing a few away before resting comfortable against them.
An awkward air sat heavily for a couple of minuets. Thranduil shifted uncomfortable before becoming comfortable with the situation.
“What did you and Legolas tell the people was the reason I am not present? Surely you would not tell them of the pregnancy yet?” The princess asked softly as she looked at the king sitting next to her.
“ We told them you were negotiating with Rivendell and planning a second honeymoon. The people seemed content with the story. “ Thranduil stated as he played with the ends of his platinum hair, looking up from the ends when he heard a scoff from his daughter-in-law.
“ A second honeymoon? I should plan another, considering the fact that you stole my husband in the middle of my first one. As you can imagine, honeymoons are not nearly as enjoyable with a missing spouse.” The princess scolded. Thranduil couldn’t help but laugh. Though, the king felt slightly guilty, he couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of the situation.
“ Spiders were ascending upon us, we needed him!” The king tried to defend, but could not stop laughing long enough for it to sound remotely serious.
“ One spider! and it was barely baby elk size!” she accused with a laugh.
She continued to laugh at the mental image of the fuzzy baby spider - who, if she was being honest, would have frightened her many years ago when she had first returned from the giant spider free land of Rivendell - who was so easily dealt with. Thranduil hadn’t apologized for stealing Legolas - she hadn’t expect he would- but they used it as a joke still to this day. She laughed for a moment more, till the world started to spin and her head felt light.
Dizziness seemed to be the worst symptom for her, leading to many of the visits from the healer. She grabbed her head and rubbed her temples hoping for the round of dizziness to pass.
“ What ails you?” The king worried as he eyed the princess. Her green eyes closed tightly, her brows furrowed and a slight grimace painted her pale face. Thranduil’s blue eyes reflected worry as he looked at her.
“Dizziness.” She stated simply. With the words, a- now- familiar feeling of discomfort with a wave of nausea stirred in her stomach. With a load groan, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against her knees. She hoped the position would lessen the feeling and she pulled herself tighter into a ball. The king to her right looked at the scene with confusion and worry in his eyes, though the elleth could not see as she closed her eyes tightly and hoped the strong wave of nausea would ease.
“ Why do we call it morning sickness if it hits at all hours of the day?” she whined pathetically.
Thranduil smiled fondly. He was familiar with that complaint. He shuffled around, adjusting the pillows and blankets.
“ Come here.” He spoke lightly. The princess rose her head slightly in question. He rolled his eyes at her before pulling her gently by the arm to lay on the bed, her head and shoulders resting in the kings lap, the rest of her body still curled up in a ball. Thranduil’s fingers tenderly brushed through her long dark hair, helping soothe her .
Another wave of nausea crashed over her, forcing her into an impossibly tighter ball with a low groan. Thranduil soothingly shushed her, his voice possessing a more fatherly and soothing town and she had ever heard from him
Thranduil called the maid into the room. She had presided ad head maid for the royals for longer than the princess had been in Mirkwood, even been a maid for the family longer than Legolas had been alive. Thranduil had recently placed her as the head maid for the princess after discovering her pregnancy. The maid entered upon hearing the kings call, her brown eyes looking upon the scene in question for the briefest of seconds before locking eyes with the king.
“ Fetch and make the tea from my cabinet, the tea from the black tin, for the princess. You know the tea I speak of?” he lead. The maid nodded before turning and acting on her orders.
The golden king continued to soothe the poor princess, her skin holding a slight greenish tint that confirmed her predicament and made him pity her more.
“ You know, the last time I can remember a situation similar to this, Legolas was no older than seven and had caught the stomach virus that was going through the academy.” He smiled a nostalgic smile. Thranduil could feel a rumble of a chuckle in the princess’ chest as he continued to stoke her back and hair.
“ I spent the first day with sick elfling clinging to my chest as I tried to arrange agreements and hear civilian complaints. Then, I proceeded to have a feverish child in my chamber keeping me awake all night. Followed by the next two days being spent in bed with a sickly elfling crying and clinging to my chest all the while begging me not to leave him.” The king tried to sound annoyed, but failed. The princess cooed at the mental image.
“ I can only imagine how clingy your child will be with both you and my son’s genetics.” The princess’ head shot up to look at the king, face shocked at the words but smiling anyway. She gave the kings knee a strong smack.
“ Rude!” she pulled a chuckle from the king as she rested her head down again.
The princess never understood the rumor of the elven kings harshness and malevolence, for it was never what see had seen. She saw an elf who was broken but trying despite the pain and sadness. She saw an elf trying to be a - single- father and a king. Even though Thranduil wanted certain things for his son, he had never spoken against or forbidden the courting and later marriage between herself and Legolas, despite the rather large class difference. He had been cheerful and involved - as much as possible while maintaining his kingly duties- during their engagement an wedding planning, blessed their wedding, and - though he may not outwardly show it in a way for all to see- he was excited for the unborn heir in her.
Many would comment- though only if they were positive the king would not hear their comment- that Thranduil was out of his place and overstepping a line - even with being the king- with the behavior he was displaying. The princess could argue it, but part of her was thankful for the protective overbearing qualities he was displaying. She missed her own father at times, though he was never that protective, and the protectiveness of the king seemed to fill the void. Furthermore, Legolas had her back. He would listen to her before his father- on this matter anyway- without a doubt. Though, her husband was beginning to get over protective too. He had always been protective over her, ever since their first meeting as elflings. She was young and living with her father in Mirkwood at the time- though being the head blacksmith for the royal army and guard left little time for her.
**
She had been looking for her father since the academy had let out early that morning- the reason was long since forgotten by her, but it seemed urgent at the time. Her green eyes - young and untrained - spotted his long black hair at the far end of the practice field, his green eyes watching the weapons he had put so much time and energy into being tested and practiced with. Though the reason for her anxious mind has long since been lost in the sea of memories, she remembered making a dash for her father, little legs running full speed across the fields toward him. The elves not enthralled with their work or practice stopped and watched her. She had been a sight, tiny elfling running determined across the several miles long field, hair whipping randomly around in a tornado of dark curls, dress covered in dirt and mud. She had almost made it to her father when she unintentionally caught herself in the archery section of the practice field. The only clue was the change from grass to dirt, a detail not caught by her.The archers had released their arrows as she had entered the target zone. Hearing the whoosh of the arrow release, she stood frozen to the spot, knowing the error she had made. Something hit her, hard, in the side, knocking her hard to the ground as the arrows screeched over her head and into the targets. A loud commanding voice yelled for the archers to stop- though they seemed to stunned to even raise their bows again- and the sound of fabric rustling could be heard as if someone was running toward her. She tried to push herself to stand, but the resistance of a weight on top of her made her freeze and halt her efforts.As she moved, the weight on her started to life, a few strands of silvery hair spilled in front of her face as it lifted. She sat onto her knees, eyes and head turned up toward the sky as she tried to catch the breath that had at one point escaped her - probably when she hit the ground.
“What were you doing!?” a young voice reprimanded. She turned her face to the voice. A young- though older than her- delicate face with a high nose and grey eyes -that despite their color held a kindness and warmth she rarely saw- met her. The elfling had silver hair pulled back into tight braids on both sides of his head that held the silver locks out of his eyes. A smile crept onto her face as she looked at him.
“ Just trying to get to my father.” She pointed to the dark haired elf that was now running toward her, eyes full of worry.
“ By running straight through the archers?” he questioned in a sassy tone that made her both respect him, and roll her eyes at him.
“ I didn’t see them. They are not normally here when I am, I guess I didn’t look for them.” She bowed her head, slightly embarrassed at her stupid action.
“ I can understand that, though, it is still a stupid mistake. You have worried our fathers. I shall get a stern talking to now.” He whispered as the elves met them. Her father quickly scooped her into his arms, looking over her with frantic worried eyes as she lowered hers in embarrassment.
“ Legolas!” the blonde elf commanded. The silver haired elfling stood up and walked to the elf. The tall blonde elf knelt lower, speaking to the elfling in a voice so low that it could not be heard by other, but the look on his face spoke of the harshness of his words.
“What were you thinking!?” her father shouted at her, eyes full of worry despite deciding that she was alright.
“ It seems neither of them were.” The blonde elf spoke as he stood to full height again, towering over her father even.
Legolas had taken responsibility for her then - well, after they both had a stern tongue lashing from their fathers. Holding her hand to keep her out of harm - trouble, his father had said- being her eyes- because, apparently, she hadn’t used hers, his father had said; and she would have been angry if she hadn’t found out he was the king. Mostly, they sat under the trees; all the while talking, him mostly talking about his archery practice and her talking of her mother in Rivendell and how he missed his.
**
Perhaps, it was because of their almost deadly and unconventional meeting that he was always so protective of her - both if the ‘hes’ in her life.
The maid had returned to the room, tea in her pale hands. Thranduil leaned forward and took the streaming cup from her with a quiet ‘thank you’. With a gentle tap to her shoulder, he told the princess to sit up. She protested with a groan, but sat up anyway, her body position still resembling a ball as she faced the king, cheek resting against the wooden headboard. He placed the hot cup in her hands and she looked at the murky brown liquid with dread as another wave of sickness hit her stomach.
“ I don’t want to consume anything I won’t be able to keep down.” she protested weakly. The king looked at her, blue eyes imploring with her.
“It has a stomach soothing property. Drink it, please. I promise it will make you feel better.” Thranduil explained, voice persuading. She sighed with dread but brought the steaming cup to her lips.
“ Sip it. Do not drink it fast.” He commanded as the liquid flowed into her mouth.
She scowled when the taste of the liquid hit her tongue. The bitter taste lingered unpleasantly in her mouth. She swallowed another sip of the tea before looking at the king, he eyes holding a pitiful mix of betrayal and disappointment. The look made the king struggle not to laugh, pulling his lips into a tight line instead.
“ It gets better tasting the more you drink,” He tried to defend. She looked at him, highly unbelieving of his words but continued to drink anyway..
“ Let me guess, it is good for hangovers too?” She jested, pulling a smile from the king, pulling on the long going joke of Thranduil being the drunken king. It wasn’t an entire lie, she has seen him drunkenly stumbling around the gardens at two am singing really badly at the top of his lungs.
“ That may be fact, but I discovered it from Celeborn when my wife was pregnant,” His voice started to trail of slightly, volume lowering, “ Morning sickness at all hours of the day plagued her too.” His smile faded, his eyes clouding up and his mind seemed to be far away. Thranduil sighed deeply, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them and facing her again.
“ Feeling better?” Thranduil asked when the cup had been emptied.
“ Still moderately dizzy, but my stomach has settled.” She murmured, knocked on the wooden headboard for luck that it shall remain that way.
“ I will have to look, but I may have something in storage that can help alleviate the dizziness. “ He said warmly. The princess smiled gratefully.
“ I am assuming this situation was a surprise; unplanned.” The king spoke, but he lacked the judgmental tone she was expecting with such words.
“ Why would you assume such a thing?” her voice lacking defense, holding a tone of light jest instead. He was right of course, but why not challenge and see his reasons behind it.
“ As I have become accustomed to the relationship between yourself and my son, I have come to the conclusion that spontaneous decisions and actions are your staple.” He spoke in his confidant tone. Again, he was right and she nodded in agreement.
Their whole relationship had been built on spontaneity. Their first meeting was spontaneous, there first ‘date’ had been spontaneous - both had decided to ditch the elves they were supposed to have lunch with a took a picnic to the river instead. Their ‘official’ coming out as courting had been unplanned and spontaneous.
**
The had been sneaking about for a while. Not in a dirty was that would cause the maids to blush at the sight of them, but in the cute “ lets sneak out to the gardens in the middle of the night and braid them into each others hair” kind of way. Whenever she arrived back in Mirkwood, whether for her five year long visit to her dad after every five she spent with her mother in Rivendell, or for week long visits when dropping off or collecting for Elrond - for he always sent her for these runs as of late- or, more recently, when she joined any wardens of Lothlórien on their journey for Celeborn with the excuse of “ The woods are difficult to maneuver, allow me to direct you” , Legolas took every opportunity to spend time with her. Despite the duties both had to their fathers and their jobs, they still found time for each other.
They were courting- though no official words had been spoken to either of their fathers. She often felt- in her moments of doubt when she was away- that she would return to Mirkwood to find Legolas courting some elleth in the eyes of the king. Legolas often worried the same. He worried she would return to her father with Elladan or Elrohir, or even Lindir on her arm. Though, neither of the cases had ever resulted.
The worries made their time together more frantic, both trying to fit as much into their little time before they were to be parted for an unknown amount of time. Despite their immortality, their time seemed so precious. It was in this frantic desperateness that got lazy, complacent, there stolen kisses less hidden and more public and on display, just waiting for the one maid to walk down the hall, the one guard to look for the prince, to catch them.
The prince was trying to steal her from her work- paper work for Lord Elrond about Mirkwood . A persistent tapping rhythm of pine cones being slingshot against her door was pulling her attention from the block of text she was working on. She knew who it was- few others would have the nerve to get on hers- but elected to ignore the sound in order to work instead. But Legolas was not one to back down or be ignored. The noise got louder and more frequent, but she was just as stubborn and determined as the prince- or so, she believed. Though, when the clock struck the new hour the noise continued. “ Surely he has to run out of pine cones?” she thought, slightly annoyed. But two more hits to the door came and her resolve was gone. She tossed the papers in her hands down angrily onto the table, pushed her wooden chair back - a screeching sound heard as it dragged across the wooden floor- and stomped to the door. She pulled the thick oak door open, green eyes met with an empty courtyard. The old willow tree the it’s center, sat sadly and a few branches could be seen moving within. At that instant, a pine cone flew toward her, aimed high and to her left as to not actually hit her, but her hand shot up to catch it before it could hit the wall with that annoying crunching sound.
“ Nice try, Royal Leaf.” She chastised with an unamused smirk.
Legolas jumped from the tree, feet hitting the hard ground below with a thump. The royal strode over to her a swagger in his walk and a smile on his face.
“ Is there a reason for your insistent hindering of my work?” despite her tone of annoyance , a smirk could be found on her lips, her heart warm as she looked at him.
“ You leave for Imladris tomorrow and , as the prince of this realm, I can not let you leave without showing you around the palace and supplying you with a fine meal.” Legolas spoke royally with a low bow. She sighed but the smile was till on her face. He always used that excuse.
“ You are well aware then, my prince, that separating me from my work - and shooting pine cones at me- could be seen as an act of treachery against Imladris? You could start a war.” she stated with an air of confidence around her. Legolas pulled her closer to him by her belt until they were chest to chest. Less than an inch of space rested between them, both feeling the body warmth of the other.
“ You may be high on Elrond’s list of good graces,” He brought his face down to her, neck arching, to bring his lips less than an leafs space from hers, “ But I doubt you are high enough on that list for him to start a war.” He whispered as he went to brush her lips against hers, only to be pushed away with a playful shove to his chest.
“ Just because it is true, doesn’t mean I want to hear it.” She spoke with false annoyance. Legolas laughed grabbing her by her elbows with gentle hands and pulling her against him in another warm embrace.
“ I would rage war for you.” He adored in a whisper against her ear. She stretched up on the toes of her boots- being nothing more than average elf size left her at a disadvantage at times- and placed a soft kiss to the princes’ lips. She rested her hands on his shoulders as she pulled away, him resting his forehead against hers.
“ Then you are a fool.” She breathed, closing her green eyes.
“ I am a fool, but I am a fool in love.” He spoke honestly, slowly, each word perfectly pronounced. She opened her eyes, the green pools hold shock for a moment before they warmed and sparkled, her smile broke out till it lit up her entire face, her cheeks dimpling in the way they only did when pure joy filled her. Legolas was not one to throw such words around. It was just not his way. He would not speak the words unless positive and mulled over . The words would not be spoken unless he was serious. The words warmed her chest. The blonde prince smiled at her reaction, his body warming and smile bright.
“ Is that so?” A strong voice spoke. The duo both knew the voice well, and both of their hearts froze and stopped beating. They quickly moved apart, eyes turning to view the source of the voice, both silently hoping the voices owner would not be the one they were expecting. King Thranduil stood tall, an arrogant look on his face and his lips holding a slight quirk . The elves eyes widened in worry. Their relationship now outed and no amount of running or hiding would save them now.
***
“ So, my pregnancy may have been unplanned, but was Legolas planned?” she questioned skeptical.
“ He was.” Thranduil spoke, voice confident. The princesses eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. She dropped her smirk and bowed her head.
“ He was worked hard for.” Thranduil spoke fondly.
“ Hard work for you or his mother?”She questioned, offended slightly at the though of him thinking he worked harder for the child than the mother. Thranduil sighed.
“ For her. Though we both mentally struggled. I can only imagine how difficult it was for her bot physically and mentally.” The kings eyes stared off for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly fidgeting and toying with the wedding ring that was still placed upon his finger after all these years.
She wanted to question, though she knew better. Few words had ever been spoken of the fallen queen - the subject a difficult one for all. Perhaps, it was this reason that the curiosity was so strong; no one knew much about her. She wanted to learn about her, about Thranduil, about Legolas even. Every detail would enlighten her a little more about Thranduil or Legolas. These little details held the keys to so many things. If she was a man - a race so prone to rash and inappropriate decisions- she would ask, would beg for answers, for all the stories. If he was a lesser elf, a musician or a blacksmith, instead of a king, she would question more. It was not out of fear-for since her marriage to Legolas she had never feared the king- but out of respect.
Thranduil looked at the elleth to his right, seeing the curiosity in her eyes. Should he tell her? Could he tell her? Could he even manage to express the words, the stories, or would his throat close in its grief as it has done so many times before? He did not fear her judgement, her pity. He had never seen her think badly of him , of anyone. She had a way of understanding that mad her the princess all elves adored, that older elves came to for counsel. She didn’t hold the extraordinary gift of blacksmithing like her father - that still to this day he had a hard time finding a suitable replacement for- or seamstressing like her mother. Her compassion, her ability to understand were her incredible gifts. Many speculated that it had developed from the situation of her parents- the rare chosen split of an elven couple during their engagement that all resulted in a child- but he believed it was born in her, raised in her veins. Thranduil sighed, filling his lungs again as the words he wished to speak formulated in his mind.
“ I do not mean to be a monster. I do not mean to be so intrusive and overbearing about a situation that does not involve me,” The king spoke evenly, his eyes resting on the unchanged stomach of the princess, “ I only do so to protect yourself and Legolas from the pain I know.”The princess looked at him, her leaf colored eyes holding compassion and inquisition.
“ My wife always wanted a child, she requested one since the first night of our marriage. As a prince at the time, I felt it was not the right timing. Then there were the wars and the death of my father. She requested again, saying the wars were over, but I had just become a King and her a queen, and the timing continued to feel like it was not ideal.” he smiled sadly.
“ Then there was all the festivals with elflings in adorable little robes and Celebrian had the twins, and suddenly she was constantly holding babies and I could no longer deny her the child she had wanted for so long.”
“ It wasn’t a simple process. Years went by with no results. Torture every month for her when the sign of our efforts being in vain presented itself. Many trips to the healers in fear she was barren, only for her to be given a new herb and assurance that it will result on its own time.”
“ Didn’t the big bad Mirkwood king go to assure his bow was shooting arrows?” the princess jested, the air lightened slightly with her words. The king gave a weak smile though his eyes still held sadness, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to hold onto his regal, composed- arguably indifferent- persona. His throat felt tight and his chest felt heavy.
“ You kept trying and then there was Legolas. Happily ever after? “ She tried, though she felt that wasn’t the happy ending.
Thranduil weakly shook his head.
“ If only it was that way.” he spoke quietly.
“ You would not be able to imagine the reaction and excitement when we found out she was with child. We naively even told the realm. She was not much farther along that you when she lost the first child. Yet, she remained determined to try again, and again, and again. When she was able to conceive the child, she lost it . Each time, I watched her heart shatter, I watched her blame herself. Yet, when she asked, I could not deny her request.”
“ Then there appeared to be hope. A child surviving past the first trimester, the the second, and it seemed like the miracle child. She made it to nine months- full term for the race of men- before out world crashed again. A baby girl, dead before her birth, born deathly still.” Thranduil broke. “ I realized how desperate she was, how willing she was to destroy herself for a child. And so, we quit our efforts. We arrived her time to recover and heal.”
“ She was still determined for a child of her own and a few decades later managed to persuade me to try again ‘Just once more!’” he threw his voice into a feminine one, tears forming in his eyes. The princess grabbed his hand gently in an attempt at comfort. To her surprise, he held it .
“ And she was so worried, calling for the healer for every pain, every kick the baby did, refusing to do anything out of fear for the child, and eleven months later, there was Legolas. The baby she wanted more than anything had finally arrived. She loved him more than life itself.” Thranduil smiled longingly. his eyes glossy and far away.
“ And so do you. You love him more than anything.” She spoke confidently. He smiled and nodded his head slightly.
“The reason I am so overbearing about your pregnancy is because I want to protect you and Legolas- as much as I can- from that pain. I only wish to make it easier on you.” His eyes bored into hers with an honestly and fragility she had never seen in him. She smiled gratefully at him, her thumb running over his hand softly in a soothing motion before pulling it away.
“ Thank you. For everything you have done for me over the years. Every moment of overbearingness and protectiveness.” Thranduil could only try to smile at her words.
“ Now, about baby names.” Thranduil stated excitedly. The princess rolled her eyes.
“ You named your child ‘ green leaf’. You are not naming mine!” she put her foot down.
“ As the grandfather, I deserve a say!”
‘ here we go’ she thought’ Thranduil is now going to be overbearing enough for himself and the three missing grandparents ‘
And she was not wrong, but where would she be without it?