Through Wind and Fire (LOTR)

XXI

Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.

- Phillipians 4:6

A man's greatness is not the number of servants he has, but the number of people he serves.

- John Hagee

The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.

- Henry Ward Beecher

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Flying through the air were many birds, returning for the coming of spring. Spring was a lovely time in Greenwood, though Thranduil despised the crown he was bidden to wear. It was the usual crown, crafted from wood and branches, but since spring brings flowers, many of said flowers were elegantly entwined within the spires of his crown. Elegant it was, but it made the Elvenking feel quite like an elleth, a feeling he despised greatly. A terrible and mighty king he was supposed to be, but how can one be mighty and terrible when pink flowers decorate your headwear? He only hoped Legolas would yank them out in his curiousness. Or he could disappear from society for the remainder of the season, and make his wife to don the flower-accented crown. Both the crown and pink suited her, regardless.

Of course, the former option would be chosen. His elfling had taken a liking to playing with his father's crown, sometimes toddling into the throne room, causing a ruckus, only to simply and calmly ask, "Ada, may I play with your crown?" Much the the prince's disappointment, the answer was often, "No." So the king would watch, chuckling to himself, as his son walked out of the throne room, shoulders slumping a little bit more then when he first appeared in the room.

And this day was much like the others, seeing that Legolas was rejected once more, unable to play with the crown like he wished. Now he dawdled around the royal garden, singing softly to himself, completely unaware that he was being watched. By his mother, of course, not a conspirator who was going to assassinate him. She watched her dear son with a broad smile on her face. Two small wooden figures were in front of him, and he picked them up, mumbling to himself a story.

"Ada, may I play with your crown?" he mutttered.

"Yes, ion nin, you may play with it," Legolas said, mimicking his father's voice as best as his slight voice could.

"Wee! Look, horsey! Jump! Ride the horse. Horse ride! Look, orc are there. Kill orc! Slice neck! Die!" The seemingly innocent story had taken a violent turn, and now Bregoliel chose to make her entrance.

"Ai, my little leaf, are you having much fun there?"

Like a criminal caught in his act of stealing, the prince stood up quickly, putting his hands behind his back and kicking the wooden figures out of the way. The queen laughed to herself, not letting her amusement show in her face, lest her son see her laughter.

"Mae go-vah-ne-eh-en, Nana," he said, carefully enunciating his words. "I was playing, Nana. I did not eat the flower, or the green fruit." Ever the curious elfling, Legolas had eaten both inedible flowers and unripe fruit when he thought no one was looking, which led to an admonishing speech from his mother.

She smiled at him, and sat on the ground, patting her lap for her son to sit. A wide grin became plastered on his face, and giggling, he toddled over to his mother and plopped himself in her lap. Her arms she wrapped around him, and Legolas settled his small chin on her arm, looking for his father. Not seeing him, he turned back to Bregoliel, and relaxed in his mother's arms.