Through Wind and Fire (LOTR)

XVIII

Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.

- Galatians 3:28

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"Why do you think this is such a splendid idea, Thranduil?"

"Because, it is."

"'Tis not a good reason, meleth nin," the queen responded, brushing her shoulder against his playfully.

"Oh, we needed the escape from idiotic advisors, and so here we are!"

"By a stream? What if he falls in?"

"Yes, by a stream. He will not fall in, now stop your fretting, my dear wife," he chuckled, looking down condescendingly at her. She frowned, attempting to show anger, but the way her eyes twitched gave her away. "I know you desire to laugh. I am simply the most comedic, charming ellon you ever met."

"Stupid, mindless, king." Directing the next statement to her son who sleepily yawned in her arms, she said, "Legolas, can you believe I married this arrogant king?"

"Do not wash his little mind with lies!"

"Oh, but what if they are truths? What then, Thranduil? Should I lie to him? We know he loves me more," she teased, a smug look on her face.

Now was the time, Thranduil thought. Time to enact his revenge. The king was quite bitter that his dear little son had spoken the word 'Nana' before 'Ada'. And now, vengeance would be his.

Somehow, he managed to teach the elfling to walk, and sometimes he toddled around merrily when his mother was gone. Of course, Thranduil kept it all a secret, and now he would unveil said secret with a flourish.

"Are we sure he loves you more, Bregoliel? I think his face says otherwise." Smirking evilly, his plan went into effect. "Why do you carry Legolas so, meleth?"

"How else would we carry him? He cannot walk!"

"Let me carry him. I am sure your arms are tired."

Reluctantly, Bregoliel surrendered Legolas to his father's arms. The prince waved his arms and gurgled.

"Yes, is that not true? You love me? Oh, yes, you do, but again, who does not?" Thranduil told his son, softly tickling his sides. He whispered something incoherent into the little prince's ear, and Bregoliel groaned.

"Are you plotting something with your ada?" she asked Legolas, tapping his wee nose.

"Yes, he is. Is that not right?" The prince kicked his legs as if to say yes.

Thranduil gingerly set his son on his feet, urging him to walk. The queen looked on and almost screamed.

"Thranduil! What in Elbereth's name are you doing? He cannot walk!"

"You are not sure of that, are you?"

"I am!" she screamed, genuinely frightened for Legolas' life.

"Only watch," Thranduil said, and let Legolas attempt to walk.

Three steps the elfling took, and then he began to wobble.

"Ah-ja, welp me!" he shrieked.

In one swift motion, the king took his son in his arms again, and Bregoliel stood there, completely speechless.