rocky41_7

The Legolas post is still going around and I feel the need to say that like, I don’t mean Legolas and Thranduil had a perfect relationship. I’m not rejecting the very notion there was any tension there. I think it’s pretty impossible that Thranduil’s own issues never caused problems in his relationship with Legolas. But I do think that it matters that he tried, he tried very hard, and was largely successful, in raising an emotionally healthy child with whom he has a primarily positive relationship.

Additional headcanon type thoughts below

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Current Mood: busy

To me, Legolas--cheerful, optimistic, courageous, gregarious--comes across as someone who had a happy childhood. And that hits hard, especially knowing that by his birth, the Greenwood was already declining into Mirkwood, the shadow of Sauron’s spirit spreading and poisoning the land. Already Greenwood was far diminished from what it was--Thranduil led home less than a third of the forces Oropher had marched to Mordor in the War of the Last Alliance. Thranduil himself, whether you take for canon the movie interpretation of his injuries in the War of Wrath and the death of his beloved wife, is someone who is almost certainly carrying considerable trauma. He is canonically Doriathrim which suggests that at the least he survived two kinslayings against his people. Given that he lived in Beleriand at the time it feels safe to assume he fought in the WoW. We know he accompanied Oropher to Mordor during WLA and watched his father’s early charge lead to his death--and early in the fight, too. Thranduil was crowned king on the battlefield and had to finish the war before leading the Greenwood’s tattered army home.

And yet.

And yet Legolas seems emotionally healthy, well-adjusted, comfortable in himself and his surroundings, willing and able to make quick friends, admires his father, and speaks only ever with the greatest fondness of his home. Legolas is happy. Despite having grown up in the shadow of Mirkwood, despite his father’s trauma, despite the decline of his home realm--he, to my eye, shouts of someone who was raised in a happy home, by people who loved him. In LotR, Gandalf says of Legolas that he has lived “in joy” in the Woodland Realm.

Which means that Thranduil--and likely many others in Mirkwood--put in real effort to make Legolas’ childhood as safe and happy as they possibly could. I think for Thranduil, having experienced the trauma that he did--and possibly being scarred by the deaths of Elured and Elurin, and the kidnapping of Elrond and Elros--it was of heightened importance that he do everything within his power to raise his own child in as much joy and security as he could.

It just makes me emotional, thinking that despite the despair threatening them and the dangers facing the Woodland Realm and the fact that the time of the Elves in Middle-earth was waning, Legolas was raised in such love that it comes through so clearly in his character, even centuries after he was grown.

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Current Mood: bouncy
Current Music: Lament for the Rohirrim; Clamavi de Profundis

Pairing: None

Characters: Thranduil, Elrond, Legolas (technically)

Summary: In the wake of the queen's death, Elrond attempts to ease Thranduil's pain, and soothe his worries for his child.

AO3 | tumblr | Pillowfort

"The kingdoms of Elves did not go so quiet as those of Dwarves and Men when night fell, but a stillness did often draw over, with many of them resting, or partaking in quiet, less strenuous activities while the moon hung above them (provided, of course, that they were no parties to be had—and that was especially true in the kingdom of Mirkwood, in which firelit festivities laden with drink and food were their preferred pastime)."

Current Mood: mellow
Current Music: Oats in the Water; Ben Howard

Fandom: The Hobbit/Tolkien

Pairing: Thorin/Thranduil

Summary: Thorin arrives at his lover's house, silently praying Thranduil has finally managed to quiet his fussing baby.

AO3 (see author’s notes here) | tumblr

***
Silence embraced Thorin when he stepped across the threshold; merciful, beautiful, longed-for silence. Legolas’ wailing and fussing, which had been a constant racket in the foreground for the last several days was gone, which could only mean one thing: Thranduil had finally gotten him down to bed, which meant Thorin might finally, finally have the elf to himself for more than a handful of minutes.

Not that Thorin would ever complain about how much of Thranduil’s attention his child consumed. (Or about how Thranduil was more than willing to abandon Thorin to tend to whatever perceived discomforts the child might have, no matter how occupied he might have been with Thorin.)

Elves were like that about babies, Thorin was learning. It had to come from having so few.

“Thranduil?” he called cautiously. He didn’t see him around, but he hesitated to make any more noise, lest he wake Legolas and start the whole cycle over again. His own desires aside, the poor babe had been colicky for days, and needed the rest (Presumably—it was remarkable how long a distressed elven baby could cry, and that was only what Thorin had been present for. Thranduil spent twenty-four hours a day with the child and Thorin wasn’t sure how he hadn’t gone mad yet.) Thus, he was as quiet as he could be setting his keys on the entry way table and shedding his coat.

This way, he thought with half a smirk, he might be able to sneak up on Thranduil (he had never yet succeeded, what with Thranduil’s keen elf ears, but he wasn’t ready to surrender).

But sneaking up on Thranduil required first finding him, which was proving to be more difficult than Thorin had imagined. With the wide windows open and a cool afternoon breeze wafting the gauzy curtains out, Thorin had assumed they were home, but he supposed it was possible Thranduil had taken Legolas on a walk in another desperate attempt to soothe him and forgotten to close the windows before leaving.

The living room, kitchen, dining area, den, and the study were all bereft of elves. Thorin did not quite dare push on the door to Legolas’ nursery, knowing that if he were the one to wake the child after all this, Thranduil might actually throttle him with his own beard (He recalled enough from Dis’ period with two babies to know that this was a distinct possibility).

As he moved towards the master bedroom, he could see the same billowing and swaying of curtains that accompanied the other open windows. Perhaps Thranduil had lain down for a nap himself—Thorin wouldn’t blame him. He felt fairly certain the elf hadn’t slept in two or three days (though truthfully, he was still puzzling out Thranduil’s sleep cycle).

That wasn’t so bad—if Thranduil was abed, Thorin could slip off his boots and slide in with his lover (If Thorin could call Thranduil his lover. He was not entirely sure how to define their exact dynamic, but they were sleeping together, so it seemed reasonably appropriate.) A brief afternoon nap couldn’t be too amiss (Balin was always saying Thorin needed to rest more). With a faint smile on his lips, he pushed the bedroom door open fully, and found the missing elves.

Thranduil was indeed asleep, passed out in the center of the massive four-poster bed, with the gentle wind keeping a constant current of fresh air moving through the room. Asleep on his father’s bare chest was Legolas, soothed to rest at last, one tiny fist curled up by his head, drooling as he bobbed slowly with the rise and fall of Thranduil’s breathing. His face seemed clear of the feverish flush Thorin had seen on it last. One of Thranduil’s hands rested lightly against Legolas’ back, as if he had fallen asleep rubbing it to comfort the little one. Thorin’s eyes traced over Thranduil’s shoulders, over the narrow pull of his waist, and up to the jawline Thorin could never help but gawk at in profile.

Frozen in the doorway, Thorin knew there was no chance he could risk waking either of them, and so he did not move closer, but nor could he quite tear himself away. There was a sharp, insistent tugging sensation in his chest, and a feeling that seemed bizarrely protective, in a way he hadn’t felt since Fili had once admitted to another boy at school picking on him.

He barely realized he was raising his phone to take a picture until he was opening the camera app. After he had snapped the shot, he thought perhaps it was best if he just go, and leave them to rest. Thranduil did not have attention for him today, and Thorin found himself more at ease with that than he had been when he walked through the door.

But instead of leaving, Thorin quietly made himself a cup of coffee and settled in the living room to enjoy the view of the heavily forested garden Thranduil maintained. Maybe Thranduil didn’t have attention to spare for him—but Thorin would enjoy a few minutes with his coffee, knowing he was asleep in the next room, child sleeping soundly, an easy silence enveloping the entire household, as though it were cut off from the rest of the world. Thorin, who lived alone, was surprised at how the silence felt different from merely lounging around his own empty house. It was like there was still the presence of others, even though he couldn’t hear them, and it reminded him of staying over at Dis’ place and waking just after dawn with her to have coffee before the boys rousted.

There was something comforting in this sort of silence. Something he could get used to.

Current Music: Helvegen; Wardruna

I've been batting around some more fic ideas and while this one may never come to fruition I just wanted to share some baby Legolas

***

Thranduil rolled onto his side, pulled Legolas up into one arm, and rolled back, pulling the child onto the bed with him, ensconcing Legolas in the curve of his body.

“Hi Ada,” Legolas said with a hint of that clarity which would come to him with age.

“Your mother is gone,” Thranduil told him, carding his fingers up through Legolas’ baby-soft hair. “She has left us. Someday you will understand what this means.” Legolas simply pulled at Thranduil’s shirt and babbled nonsensically.

“Play blocks?” Legolas asked. “Ada play?” Thranduil said no more, just cradled the child against his chest, rubbing his thumb lightly over the delicate point of Legolas’ little ear.

“Shh.” Legolas squirmed a little, but began to still, and for some time lay peaceably with his father while Thranduil drifted in some place between waking and sleeping, a place he had become intimately familiar with in the last weeks; a place he wished never to leave. Eventually, he grew restless and struggled to his feet, unable to get his bearings on the soft mattress. He fell backwards off his feet, but gave it another go, then tripping forward over his father’s body. He burst into giggles and grabbed at Thranduil’s short hair, tiny nails scraping his ear. Thranduil rolled onto his back to look at the child, and Legolas gave him a pink grin, and promptly seated himself on his father’s chest.

“Oof. You’re heavier than you look,” Thranduil said, which was certainly true with Legolas’ entire weight on his ribcage. Legolas slapped his hands against Thranduil’s breast, and he raised his own to let Legolas press their palms together, something that had entertained him a great deal in days past.

It worked just as well then, and Legolas delighted in fitting his minuscule paw against his father’s long-fingered hands. He clapped their palms together and wrapped his hands around Thranduil’s fingers, bringing Thranduil’s right hand up to his mouth to gum at his fingers. Gently, Thranduil ran the tip of his finger around Legolas’ mouth, feeling for any new teeth ready to break the gumline. There were a few lumps that promised soon to cause the prince great discomfort, but they had no dearth of teething supplies; when Legolas’ first teeth came in, he had only to mention it only off-handedly to a single person before they were flooded with relevant gifts. He would have praised heartily the generosity of Greenwood the Great, if he did not know it had more to do with Legolas being the only baby in the kingdom than any inborn sense of charity among the Silvan and Sindar.

Current Mood: creative

Read this theory earlier this week that Thranduil is blind in one eye as the result of his dragon injuries, and that the reason Legolas has a habit of stating the obvious is because he’s used to compensating for his father's limited sight and I’m a fan of this idea.

For one I love examining the familial elven relationships. And two, in this way, Thranduil never has to admit he's lost sight, which could be seen as weakness for a monarch, and certainly for a warrior. There may be very few elves who know the truth, and among the rest it's a bit of a joke that Legolas has a habit of pointing out things everyone can (supposedly) see for themselves. It's not just compensating for his father's disability; it's shielding the fact that he has one at all.