Rating: G
Pairing: mention of future Legolas/Elrond
Summary: Legolas and Haldir are five and facing the trials and joys of childhood. With glimpses of their future personality traits.
Feedback: yes, but please be kind
Warnings: quite non-canon I think, with brief mention of an mpreg
Legolas waited impatiently for Elrond to finish his meeting with the Lord of Lorien. The small elf could see the two adults conversing seriously in the courtyard below. He strained his ears, but could not hear what they were saying.
"Baby-bun, its rude to spy," Thranduil said, appearing behind his tiny son and startling him.
Legolas blushed at his lack of manners. It was a special treat that his father had allowed him to follow the diplomatic party to Rivendell, he was just a little over five and really too young for travelling. But he had been missing Lord Elrond terribly since the older elf had departed from Greenwood the Great after his fifth birthday celebrations a few months before, and Thranduil felt sorry for the small forlorn figure.
And, Legolas had added timidly while he was eating some of his father's buns for breakfast, Haldir had travelled all the way to attend the party with his father before he had turned five.
Thranduil had certain choice words about the prettiest and most precocious child from Lorien, but he didn't say them to Legolas. No doubt Haldir was destined for greatness, but Thranduil disliked the haughty fat child that had bullied Legolas during the birthday party.
The elf king glanced briefly down at the courtyard below. Celeborn was trying to convince Elrond to sign a treaty of marriage with his daughter Celebrian, although it was well known that the elf lady preferred her handmaidens and had no fondness for elf lords. And Elrond being less feminine than most, with his Man's blood. It was unlikely she would appreciate his unique beauty.
Thranduil pursed his lips and shook his head. It seemed that gentle Elrond really deserved a marriage of love rather than power after Gil Galad had cast him aside. The elf king looked at Legolas, his own gift of love, and he wondered how Elrond could love the child of the rival who had deposed him, even if it was unintentional.
Elrond was a wise and forgiving leader. He deserved better than Celebrian, who could never be faithful to him.
"Will Elrond be long, Father?" Legolas asked, dancing impatiently along the veranda in front of his father, never losing sight of the dark head below.
"I don't know baby-bun. Come walk with me a while and we shall return to find out," the blonde king said.
Legolas sighed softly and blew a kiss in Elrond's direction. The half-elf raised his face and smiled. Ah! So he had been aware of his little audience. Both father and son waved back and started making their way down to the waterfalls.
Suddenly, a young warrior from Celeborn's escort ran up, carrying a still, large bundle in his arms.
"Your Majesties! Please help me find the Lord Elrond, this child is gravely ill,"
"Well, he's very strong and has weathered his little adventure well. We can be thankful for that," Elrond said.
"How can you travel all the way from Lorien and not know there was an elf child trapped in the candy and dried fruit basket?" asked the elf lord, pouring some strong smelling oil into a small bowl. He was appalled and angry, but hid this with his even toned, deeply pitched voice.
Thranduil, who had a child of his own, shook his head in disbelief at the carelessness of the Lorien party.
"Celebrian asked us to deliver the basket she wove for you intact just as she had packed it. He must have stowed away just before we sealed it with rope for the journey," the flustered young warrior said.
"Didn't he cry out for help?" Elrond asked, sitting on a low stool beside the bed and waving the bowl under a dirty, but still pretty, little nose.
The patient was terribly bedraggled, his rich velvet child's cloak and matching leggings were all rumpled, torn and smeared with dried fruit and assorted candies. Fine gold weave house slippers hung in tatters from his small, round feet. The little elf child had made some attempt to straighten out the braids in his hair, but all the jostling in the basket had rendered the beautiful silver gold tresses into an explosion of knots and frizzy locks.
"No, my Lord. He is by all accounts very stubborn and remarkably spoilt, and he is very jealous of his newly arrived little brother - he must have been determined to run away," the young Lorien warrior said.
Then he snickered, "He isn't called Horrible Haldir for nothing."
"Is that Haldir?" Thranduil asked in disbelief.
The king missed the fierce glare that Legolas, standing unnoticed for the moment beside his father with a small hand clinging to the top of a royal boot, gave the young warrior for insulting Haldir. Both children had become friends after a rocky beginning, while playing games in the forest by moonlight after the prince's fifth birthday feast.
"Yes it is. Poor thing," Elrond said. "It can be hard for children to have to share their parents' affections."
"Especially for this pampered precious," Thranduil said, sniffing disdainfully.
"He's just a little elf, Thranduil. Be kind," Elrond said. "He looks so helpless now, all messy and dirty and still."
He sent the warrior out to tell Celeborn that their talks would have to wait an hour while he tended to his new patient.
"Horrible Haldir! Hah, what an apt nickname! No worry, Elrond, I doubt any insult would pierce his blubbery hide," Thranduil said cattily. He had not forgiven the vain and vicious little elf child for making his precious baby-bun cry at his birthday feast, even if Legolas had. To the king Haldir represented the worst of Lorien culture.
The dirty, bruised chin of the pathetic little form in the bed started to quiver, and Thranduil realised in horror that Haldir had heard his unkind remark! He pursed his lips, embarrassed with his own thoughtless unkindness.
"There now, Haldir, you are safe among friends," Elrond soothed gently, patting the big, tubby belly.
Haldir opened his eyes and tried to smile winningly at Elrond, but he was alarmed by Thranduil's stern look.
"Oh Haldir, I'm so happy you're here," Legolas said, springing nimbly onto the bed and cuddling his friend.
Haldir hugged the skinny prince with fat arms gratefully; he was feeling very, very sorry for himself after his ordeal in the dried fruit and candy gift box.
"Father didn't mean what he said. He doesn't really think you are horrible, do you father?" Legolas asked, turning around to look at the king who stood at the foot of the bed. He made beseeching-big-eyes at Thranduil, having recently learned that this enabled him to persuade his fierce father to be gentler with others.
Thranduil would have blushed if he were younger. Baby-bun's social skills were better than his, and the child was only five.
"Baby-b...Legolas is right, Haldir. I didn't mean it. You're...uhm...very fat," Thranduil said truthfully, not finding any other aspect of the Lorien child's personality worthy of praise.
Haldir sniffled and then smiled at the compliment as he was trained to do. "Thank you, your Majesty," he said prettily.
Legolas started scrubbing at his friend's dirty face with a small fist in a childish attempt to clean it.
"Eee! Legolas, use a handkerchief," Haldir squealed in alarm.
Elrond chortled. Haldir could be a poster child for fine elven manners.
Thranduil offered his son a multi-purpose piece of linen from his sword belt. Haldir tried not to recoil in horror as the bit of rag was wiped over his face, no doubt making it more repulsive and dirty than it already was. But he knew when to hold his sharp tongue.
"All clean," said Legolas brightly after his eager ministrations. Haldir groaned inwardly, his friend's standards must be low indeed when it came to grooming and personal hygiene, his face was most patently not clean! The well bred little courtier's son's eyes bugged as big as saucers when Thranduil tied the dirty cloth back onto his sword belt.
Goodness! Didn't the king have any attendants with perfumed cloths and whatever else he may possibly need? At least one to wash his soiled cloths and other personal items? Celeborn never went anywhere without his entourage!
Well, at least the king clearly had a hairdresser, his blonde hair was elaborately plaited with what appeared to be berries woven into it, and he had ruby drop ear-rings. But other than that, he looked like a plain warrior; all travel worn clothes and well used weapons.
And Legolas! Horrors! Tiara askew and one ear-ring missing, hair pulled back in a (ugh!) ponytail!
Thranduil noticed that Haldir looked traumatised still, even after the face wipe, and he was moved by compassion for the forlorn little elf child, thankfully unaware of the evil thoughts running through the pretty head regarding his own and his son's personal appearance. Pulling one of the berries from his hair, the fair king stepped forward.
Eee! Yuck! Am I going to have to eat that? Haldir's pretty nose wrinkled ever so slightly before he caught himself.
He peered more closely at the proffered berry, it was a ruby!
"I can't take that, I have nothing of equal worth to return to you," Haldir said softly, after gaping uncharacteristically at the jewel for a brief moment in shock.
Thranduil laughed, "In my long and often hard life, Haldir, I have come to find that a smile and a kiss are often worth many rubies."
Elrond looked down quickly to hide his expression. He recalled, with sweet sorrow and aching joy in the remembering, when Gil Galad had tried to teach the greedy and fierce young Thranduil that there was value in the goodwill and happiness of others, even in the least of beings. Compassion was an important step towards greatness and glory, and Gil Galad had even seen it fit to help the lesser race of Men because he could see their worth.
And once, lifetimes and sorrows ago, an awkward half elf had been the centre of the great king's world - and heart.
It was comforting to know that Gil Galad's teachings lived on, even as his blood did in Legolas.
As Haldir took the ruby from hands rough from wielding weapons with his own plump, pink and lovely fingers, he reminded himself that he must stop judging people by their appearances and Lorien's materialistic standards.
He puckered prettily, like he did everything else, and planted a kiss on Thranduil's cheek. Then he smiled as the kiss was returned on the top of his usually lovely, now grubby, little head. It would occur to him many decades later that Legolas did, in fact, get his sweetness from Thranduil, fierce and hard as the king could be. But at this moment, he could not help wishing that he was less odorous and more presentable when he was being kissed by a king.
"Now that we are all friends again, maybe you can tell us what caused you to have your little adventure," Elrond said.
Haldir's face fell. Elrond, on his low stool beside the bed, leaned forward, and Thranduil sat down at the edge of the bed with a protective arm around Legolas.
"I ate Rumil's tea cakes," Haldir said, and hung his head.
There was a short, surprised silence.
"Surely they could have made more tea cakes if you wanted some too?" Elrond asked kindly.
Haldir twisted fat hands in his candy and dried fruit encrusted robe. "These are special tea cakes. They're only for babies; I haven't had any since I was three. I asked my mother to make some for me but she said that I had my own tea cakes," Haldir started to sob.
"I would have asked my father to make some, but he's always playing with Rumil these days," Haldir whimpered. Behind his cool and cultured exterior he was clearly an elf of deep feeling.
Legolas wanted to cry too. He would die if his father didn't want to bake buns for him anymore! He remembered how terrible he felt after Haldir ate all of Thranduil's spare buns at his birthday feast, and cuddled close to his father.
"So I ate all of Rumil's tea cakes before father could get him safely into the baby high chair for tea. I always sit there! Now I have to sit in an adult's chair, I can barely see over the table because I'm still really very little, and father sits next to Rumil," Haldir wailed. He was overcome by the hurt he felt at the terrible injustice of having to sit so far away from nourishing food and loving father.
Thranduil stifled his giggles. Honestly, he was such a spoilt little elf, quite convinced that he was still precious and tiny, despite being of considerable girth and quite tall for his age! But he was very cute, and genuinely seemed to love his father. He gave baby-bun a squeeze, glad that his own darling was not so prone to histrionics, even if he was in the not-so-plump category of young elves.
"Soon I'll be skinny and Rumil will be fat and no one will love me," bawled Haldir as he dissolved into sobs. "And...and, my father called me Horrible Haldir! They all call me that - even mother -- but he never did before!"
Elrond drew Haldir gently into his arms and patted him lovingly.
"It's alright, Haldir, I'm sure your father didn't mean it. You're not horrible," Elrond soothed.
Legolas leapt at the chance to cuddle with Elrond, and soon both children were in his arms.
A little later, after Haldir's bawling had subsided to periodic sniffles in the healer's comforting embrace, Elrond and Thranduil decided to take the children for a much needed bath.
"Father?"
Thranduil looked up from the travel trunk he was rummaging in for Legolas's towels. He insisted on raising baby-bun himself, not caring a whit what anyone had to say about it being inappropriate kingly behaviour.
He looked down at his precious baby-bun. He was growing so quickly, practically pitching out of his baby high chair at home, although he sweet naturedly never complained.
"Can you please promise to always make buns for me?" he asked timidly.
Thranduil blinked away the tears that rose suddenly in his eyes. "Of course, I promise," he said warmly and tenderly as he scooped his darling child into his arms and planted a kiss on the dark head.
Centuries later in troubled times, keeping this promise would be one of the hardest things he would ever have to do. The buns he made for Legolas's journey to Rivendell, when the evil arose and he had to send his best warrior to Elrond's Council while he stayed home to lead the defence of Mirkwood, had been seasoned with tears of love and fear and a desperate hope.
But on this sunny day with his little son in his arms, the king was blessed for he lacked the 'gift' of foresight. He felt very comforted; baby-bun couldn't be that big if he was still concerned about his bun supply!
"What are you doing?" Legolas asked Haldir, trotting gracefully into the laundry room that stank of bleach.
The two children's carers were flirting just outside the door, put off by the smell.
The fatter elf child was on a high stool, so he could lean over a large tub of bleach filled with soaking clothes needing stains removed.
"I'm bleaching a hair bracelet I made for your father. It is the least I can do in return for the ruby," Haldir dimpled at his friend on the ground. "My hair looks nicer after a little bleach."
He was careful to make sure his plump, lovely hand did not come into contact with the thick bleach.
Legolas sighed with envy as he regarded Haldir's perfectly plaited silver blonde hair; it looked silver by moonlight and golden in sunlight - in short, exquisite in any light. The two children didn't know it yet, but as soon as he reached maturity, Haldir's hair bracelets would be so prized as to cause fights and tears and delight the length and breadth of Middle Earth.
Legolas looked at his mousy brown shoulder length hair; it was neither golden blonde like his father's or rich black like Elrond's - in Legolas's mind the most beautiful of any shade of elf hair. And, from his place on the veranda yesterday, he had seen the admiration in the tall half elf's eyes when Celeborn had presented him with a thick bracelet of blonde hair, off the head of Celebrian and woven by her own hands.
In a second, he made up his mind...
Elrond ran with amazing speed down to the laundry room, Figwit on his heels. The lord had not stopped to pull on a robe over his night dress or tie back his hair when Figwit woke him from an afternoon nap with urgent news that Legolas was injured in the laundry room. All knew that Thranduil would level Rivendell in his grief and rage if any great harm befell his baby-bun while he was out hunting.
Elrond ran heedlessly into the laundry room, which was flooded in bleach and covered with all sorts of clothes. He found the carers trying to dry a still and quiet Legolas with their cloaks in the laundry room. The small elf was wrapped in Haldir's strong, fat arms, and for once the little vain precious was not bothered about the bleach burning his skin and stinging his eyes as he held his friend and urged him to keep his eyes tightly shut. Legolas's skin was already pink and peeling, and his hair - his hair was a white-platinum blonde!
Elrond scooped up the prince and ran to his healing rooms. With remarkable strength and agility, chubby legged Haldir kept pace on his own, startling the carers and Figwit who ran behind the swiftly moving Elrond.
Elrond stripped Legolas efficiently and covered him with soothing oils, while Figwit filled the bath tub with cold water and added healing herbs. Legolas remained completely quiet, although he nodded when Elrond asked him if he was okay. Such steely strength, and still so young! Elrond thought.
"What happened?" he asked Haldir, smiling warmly down at the little elf child who was quickly beginning to develop character and courage.
"I was bleaching my hair bracelet for King Thranduil when Legolas came up on the stool to chat with me," Haldir frowned a little. Best not to say his friend jumped in, for goodness knows what reason, he might get in trouble with the adults.
"Then he fell in by accident. He got tangled in the clothes, and I couldn't pull him out," Haldir showed Elrond bleach burned round limbs, "so I jumped down and tipped the tub over to get him out of the stuff as soon as possible."
Elrond's eyes widened in surprise.
"I'm sorry if I ruined your laundry room," Haldir said, immediately misunderstanding the look and feeling contrite. Elrond had very nice clothes, even his night dress was exquisitely elegant Haldir noted approvingly, and some of them might have been in that tub of bleach.
"No, Haldir, you did something very brave indeed," Elrond said, wonder in his voice.
"It is true, my Lord," said the young warrior who had released Haldir from his candy and dried fruit prison the day before. He felt terrible at having failed in his duty as the child's appointed carer in Rivendell. His friend was outside; steeling himself to bear the wrath of the king upon his return...Thranduil's rage would not be easy to endure.
"You tipped over one of my laundry tubs yourself?" Elrond asked. Haldir was only just five, even if he was well fed for his age.
Haldir nodded. "I'm a fat boy," he said, with some degree of his characteristic smugness. "And I can run very fast."
Elrond nodded in understanding, a swift moving object of Haldir's size would be a force indeed.
Later, the chubby child, arms bandaged, snuggled with an oil covered Legolas in bed. The newly blonde elf child's head was wrapped in a towel, with his hair soaking in herbs so it would not fall out. Figwit sat watchfully and unobtrusively by the bed. Elrond had gone to find Thranduil to break the news of Legolas's mishap to him. It was decided that he was the best candidate to avoid physical injury from delivering this news.
"Thank you for not telling that I jumped in the tub, Haldir. I feel much prettier as a blonde," said Legolas.
Haldir smiled sweetly, "I'll never tell on you, Legolas. But next time you want to be blonde, don't jump into a tub of bleach. I know where my father keeps his bleach shampoo, and we can use that. Then you won't burn your skin, although your scalp might burn a bit."
"I don't mind, it's worth it to be blonde and pretty," said Legolas. The two young elves giggled happily.
"But Elrond might not like it. He always tells me to be happy just the way I am. But how can I be? He's going to marry Celebrian and I'm too little to do anything about it," Legolas said, suddenly sad.
Haldir, who even at five understood more about elf politics and relationships than some adult elves, was quiet for awhile. "Legolas, marriages do not last forever, especially contract ones. I'm sure one day you will win Elrond," he said kindly. "And I'll help you in your suit any way I can."
The last bit he added because it was what you would offer to do to comfort an unhappy friend. He didn't know yet the pivotal role he would play in elf history in his adulthood.
"You promise, Haldir?" Legolas asked quietly, his dark eyes shining with gratitude.
"I promise," Haldir said solemnly, and they linked two bleach burned pinkies together, "friend of my heart."
"Friend of my heart," said Legolas joyously. "And I promise to help you win your choice. Do you have one?"
Haldir, whose fondest daydreams were of being the belle of the ball once he turned eighteen - he would be known as Haldir the Handsome then; and Haldir the Horrible only to his enemies! - had never considered choosing any one person to love forever and ever. The concept seemed very alien to him and his Lorien sensibilities.
"Not yet, dear Legolas. But you will be the first to know when I find one," said Haldir warmly.
They giggled again.
"From now on, to win Elrond, I will be the bravest elf ever, except for father of course, since I can't be prettiest or wisest. I'll be noble and true and strong always," Legolas vowed solemnly.
"Well, Elrond is the wisest, but there's no reason why you can't be prettiest too. You can start eating more this very day," said Haldir, caught up in Legolas's enthusiasm. He was beginning to see the beauty of Legolas's spirit rather than his skinny, ill dressed form.
"I can't be prettiest, because you are," Legolas said. "Don't you already know?"
"Eee! Legolas, you think so? Really?" Haldir asked, gleefully. He had always suspected, but it was nice to have it confirmed by a friend, who was also a prince (even if he had poor taste in dressing he was still high born)!
"Yes, really," Legolas said firmly. He would have emphasised this with a nod, if his head had not been immobilised from being wrapped in a huge towel.
Haldir sighed contentedly, and both little elf children fell quiet, exhausted after the eventful day. Legolas dreamed of a beautiful, romantic wedding to Elrond, culminating with him slipping a ring onto one of those beloved hands - their marriage would last for all eternity!
Haldir, snuggled beaming next to him, was worlds away, dreaming of adoration and glory and being the best dressed and loveliest at every dance. He would be even plumper and prettier than Rumil!
Little did they know that some dreams, even in the troubled times to come, do indeed come true.
The characters belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema. No profit is being made by the authors or the archivist and no disrespect is intented.
Do not post this work elsewhere without the author's consent.