Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. All the characters and places belong to J.R.R. Tolkien

Rating: PG

Summary: Everyone eagerly awaits the big merrymaking and ‘the changing of the crowns’. The story features Thranduil and little Legolas

Warning: As fluffy as it can get *lol* English is not my first language so you might stumble upon a couple of grammar and spelling mistakes. I would appreciate it if you would point them out to me (In case you have the time :-)

Thanks: Thank you Lynn for reading beta!

Autumn celebrations

With bright blue eyes, the little creature looked down the enormous tree, it was sitting in. Already it had spent most of the morning up there, spying on everyone whose errands led him underneath its very own hiding spot. Unaware of the watchful eyes and busy as ants the elves hurried on, finishing the last preparations for the splendid merrymaking that was supposed to start after nightfall.

It was the morning of September the twentieth: the last day before autumn. Whenever the mighty trees of the great Greenwood forest turned their gowns of green leaves into a sparkling yellow and red, the elvenking exchanged his summer crown for one who would fit the oncoming season better. Before long a wreath of wild berries and red leaves would crown his golden head. For the merry wood-folk that was reason enough for a joyous gathering.

Already one could foresee the splendour of the approaching feast. In all the lower branches around the elvenking’s hall hung painted lampions that would aid the stars to light the way. Fair hands had wound beautifully woven garlands around many trunks. In all colours they danced with the soft breeze that had sought and found a way through the thick roof of the forest. Long ago, not far away from the caves, a glade had been made. The wood-folk had felled a few trees and levelled the ground around their stumps, so that many elves would fit in there. In this very clearing some logs had been piled up and were now ready to feet a great bonfire.

All depended on a successful outcome of the king’s hunt now. Before dawn he and his men had set out to bring back a deer for the merrymaking. Since then no message had reached the ears of those, who had stayed home. Anxiously they awaited the party’s return. As the sun hit its peek the striking sound of well known horns was to be heard. Excitement rose among the elves. Singing, they all gathered in front of the great doors to greet their homecoming king. How immense was their joy, when they saw the poor beast, a spare horse had to carry on her back. Immediately they all joined in a fair song. Addressing the slain deer’s spirit they thanked her for the sacrifice. Not until that was done did they welcome the hunters properly. They chanted more songs in which they praised the King and his party for topping off their gathering with great venison.

Up in the tree the blue eyes grew brighter with every step the hunting company took towards his hiding spot. How magnificent they looked on their horses. All elves were clad in brown and green- the colours of their forest and kingdom. Proudly they carried their bows and held them up when they passed the cheering crowed. Their king rode in the front. Under his crown of green leaves a cascade of golden hair flowed down his shoulders. The contours of his fair face showed no sign of age. Yet, his eyes, azure pools that showed no bottoms in known depths, spoke of great wisdom and long years.

As the head of the party was right underneath the tree in which the little creature sat, it gave a yelp and jumped off its branch right onto the elvenking’s lap. Supposing an assault upon their king, some elves who stood close by gave a little yelp themselves. The king’s horse balked at the sudden disturbance and tried to break out of the circle of elves. With some effort Thranduil managed to calm his horse down, again. Already some hunters had arrows notched to their bows, ready to kill whoever tried to hurt their king. Luckily, their wits were as quick as their movements, for the little figure was soon recognized as the king’s son.

“Adar” Laughing he gave his father a hug. He did not seem to notice any of the arrows that were pointed at him. “I surprised you. You did not even know I was up there, did you?” Proudly he looked for the king’s approval.

“Nay, I did not, Legolas.” With warm, but serious eyes he gazed upon his son. “But it is very unwise to jump into a circle of armed elves. Someone could have mistaken you for an orc or a spider and shot you. The horse could have run off and hurt a lot of people.” Saying so, he pointed towards the hunters, who were still alert. With gentle strokes he caressed Legolas’ back. “You have to be careful. Promise me, you will never do anything like this again!” Full of shame the little elfling cast his eyes downwards. He wanted his father to be proud of him, not angry.

“Aye, adar. I’m sorry.” Legolas apologized meekly. The elvenking gave him an encouraging smile.

“Now you know. Just don’t forget it again. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I love you, little star.” That eased the elfling a lot. It was not long until his merry mood found a way back again.

“But I can still sneak up on you when you are alone?” Legolas asked. Chuckling Thranduil nodded.

“You can give it a try.”

“Aye, I am going to be the best hunter in the entire woods and then I can go with you.” Admiringly he looked up at Thranduil. Everyone loved him because he was the strongest and greatest elf there was- and he was his father. Looking for his warmth Legolas snuggled closer to him.

“It would be a pleasure to take you with me, son. But until you are ready we are going to stick to the little giant spiders in your room, alright?” With a little smile he remembered yesterday evening. Legolas had made him shoot two arrows in his closet, refusing to go to bed before all the imaginary spiders had been hunted down.

With that, he crossed the bridge over the arm of the forest river. The path ended in front of the great doors. Their mouth was wide open. Usually the magic of his people kept the stone doors tightly shut, but since today there was a lot of running in and out involved, six armed guards made sure, that no unwanted creatures would find a way inside. Sighing, Thranduil remembered times no magic doors or caves had been needed to keep his people safe; times, in which they could dwell wherever their heart had drawn them.

For some time now an evil power was breeding in the south, slowly turning the Greenwood in a nasty and wicked place. Peaceful animals changed into wild beasts, orcs and other frightening creatures ran around freely, torturing and murdering everyone they could lay their hands on. The landscape had changed, too. The mighty trees, the pride of Greenwood that had been touched by the shadow had ceased breathing. Hence, they were growing old before their time and if they had not lost their soul, yet, their hearts had grown wicket. Strolling under them was no longer a pleasure anymore, too dark and stuffy was it without the slightest movement of air.

Although his people had fought the shadow bravely, it had seemed that, with every orc they had killed, ten more had appeared out of nowhere. It had been a hard decision to leave for the north, but when his wife had started to talk about having a child, he had known that he did not want his offspring to grow up in war.

So they had wandered north, but wherever they had fled, the shadow had followed. Past the Dark Mountains they had been forced to flee. Not before they had reached the far northeast had they been able to live a relatively peaceful life. They had learned their lesson, though. With the help of dwarfs they had dug a great stronghold deep into a hill, making sure, they had a refuge big enough to hold all their people. They would not have to run away anymore, but their safety took its toll. Over the long years of their escape they had grown distrustful and wary of people who were not their own. Long since did other folk consider them haughty and unfriendly.

Sighing, Thranduil shook the memories of the past from his mind. Today was not the time to be this gloomy. With their merrymaking they did not just celebrate the arrival of autumn, but themselves, too. They would show the shadow that it did not control their lives and that they would not give in to it- ever. This was their home now and they would defend it to their death. The enemy seemed to sense their determination too, for the last orc attack had been a long while ago.

After they had crossed the bridge, Thranduil jumped off his horse and let a laughing Legolas slide into his arms. A couple of elves stood close by to take care of the tired animals and the slain deer. With a nod the king showed his appreciation. The hunters had fallen into a merry song, getting in the right mood for the night. What a splendid feast it would be. One of them patted the little elfling’s head.

“You gave us quiet a scare, back there,” said the laughing elf. “Very soon you are going to be a splendid huntsman yourself, little one.” So much attention made Legolas blush a little. Remembering his father’s earlier words he shyly hid his head in Thranduil’s tunic.

“That he will be,” agreed the king proudly, gently caressing his son’s back. For elven-standards Legolas was still very young. In the eyes of men he would have looked like a five year old child, in truth however, he had already seen twenty-six winters. It had taken his wife and him almost half a millennium to fulfil their dream of a baby. Both of them had agreed that they did not want to raise a child in the danger of a constant escape. Not before the finishing of their havens of stone had Legolas been born. Thranduil still carried the memory of the moment he had first held his son in his arms with him. Since then, Legolas had bestowed him with nothing, but joy. Every day brought new miracles and wonders. Every day he was grateful, that his wife had left the boy in his care, when she had parted for Valinor.

Two centuries ago, they had dwelled in the Dark Mountains and had used to trade with men, who lived close to the western borders of the forest. Nobody had known over which trade routes it had travelled afore, but from the people of that village Thranduil had come upon a mostly unusual present for his wife Laire. He gave a shell to her. As soon as she had held it to her ear, though, she had fallen under the spell of the sea. The sound of breaking waves she had heard through the shell had awoken a longing in her, she could never gain any control over. For decades she had been trying to withstand it, and at first, Legolas’ birth had seemed to put an end to it, but soon after, it had consumed her even more. In the end she had not been able to resist the call of the sea anymore. If she had not succumbed to the longing, it would have torn her apart. With a heart full of sorrow she had left her son and husband behind, well aware that Thranduil could not neglect his duties as a king and follow her. So all they had now was the distant hope, that one far off day, they would meet again in Valinor.

“Ada, are you not excited because of the merrymaking? I have seen Culvasa carrying one of her yummy cakes.” Still enjoying the closeness of his father’s hug Legolas cast a glance at Thranduil. A wet kiss was placed on the Elvenking’s cheek. The huntsmen commented on this proof of the child’s affection for their ruler with impish grins.

“I am very excited, indeed, Legolas. But do you know what is even better?” He gave his son a wide grin.

“No. What?” Not being able to imagine anything more splendid, than the great feast he waited eagerly for his father to go on.

“Well, until the merrymaking starts we have a lot of time to play.” Happily he witnessed the beaming smile, which spread across Legolas’ face.

“Yeahhhh” Suddenly the king had to face a second attack of his son’s kisses and hugs. It did not happen very often that his father was able to take some time off his work. “That is so awesome. Let’s go to my chamber. I made a surprise for you.” With that he jumped off his fathers arms. Instead Legolas claimed one of Thranduil’s hands, forcing him to follow his lead through the caves. Just before he was pulled around the first corner Thranduil was able to address his amused huntsmen one more time.

“Wait until you have children of your own. That was good work this morning. I will see you all at the merrymaking.” While they were on their way to Legolas’ chamber, the woodland king tried to find out more about the surprise that awaited him.

“So what is it you made for me, Legolas?” However, all the information he got was a childish chuckle. With big eyes he looked up to his father.

“But ada! If I told you, it would not be a surprise anymore,” he said as if the reason for his silence should be pretty obvious to everyone.

“Ah, I see.” They walked on. From time to time they passed other elfs, who looked at them in pleasant surprise. Everyone adored the young elfling- the last one, who had been born to their people. He was a true gift, for it was Legolas who made their king’s life worth living. Thranduil’s sense of duty towards his people was so immense, that, after the departure of his beloved wife, he would never have faded. Yet, had it not been for Legolas, all joy would have been drained out of his life.

Finally they reached Legolas’ chamber. A heavy, wooden door waited to be opened. The little child had to get on his toes to reach the handle and to push open the door. The room’s dominant colour was a warm brown. A bed far too big for the elvish child stood on the opposite side of the room. That was the place where Legolas made his father sit down, after they had entered the chamber.

“Now ada, you have to close your eyes!” Obediently, Thranduil did as he was told. He heard Legolas rummaging in one of the drawers of his secretary. Occasionally he paused what he was doing to check whether Thranduil’s eyes were still tightly shut. Excitedly, the king waited for his son to get ready. The elfling’s presents always tended to be very special. Suddenly he felt the little creature climb up on his lap. With gentle hands his crown of summer leaves was lifted down his head and replaced with something else.

“You are tickling me.” A sudden chuckle escaped Thranduil’s throat when Legolas fingers brushed against his sensitive ears. “May I open my eyes, now?”

“Not yet.” With that he let go of his father’s head and grabbed something that lay next to him on the bed.

“Now you can open your eyes.” Surprised Thranduil found himself facing a little hand mirror, Legolas held up in front of him. With awe he looked at the new wreath that graced his head, now. Obviously it had been woven by the hands of a child. Soft brushwood formed a circlet out of which many berries and the coloured leaves of oaks and beeches peeked.

“How do you like it ada?” Anxiously, Legolas waited for his father’s reaction. Once again Thranduil marvelled at his son. Moved, he hugged Legolas tightly.

“That is the most beautiful wreath I’ve ever worn, Legolas! How did you get the idea? Did you do it all by yourself?”

“Vinyaunar told me why we are going to have a feast, tonight and after that he helped me to find all the leaves and to put the wreath together. But it was my idea.” Thranduil smiled upon hearing his son’s reply. Vinyaunar was his head advisor and even though the serious elf often pretended not to know any emotions, Legolas had been able to conquer his heart.

“Are you going to wear it tonight, ada?” Legolas gave his father a hopeful look.

“Tonight?” asked Thranduil. The exchange of the crowns was an important ceremony in the course of a year. He was not sure whether the other elfs would accept this departure from their tradition. He had not lied when he had told his son that his wreath was the most beautiful he had ever had, but it was still obvious that a child had woven it. Could he afford to look silly on one of the most important celebration of his people? On the other hand, though, there were these incredibly blue eyes he could not deny a thing. These eyes would not understand a refusal that was based on the thoughts of a grown-up.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“I love you, ada!” When another wet kiss had touched his cheek, he knew that his decision was the only right one.

“I love you, too, my star.”

*~*~*

The merrymaking was very merry, indeed. Not one elf of the forest could be found inside anymore. The entire night a soft hum of fair voices lay in the air. Even the birds seemed to dance to the harmonious tunes. All of the elves had gathered around the big bonfire that bathed the night in golden light. With big eyes, Legolas looked around. How everything sparkled in the flickering light of the fire. The elves who were not singing were dancing or drinking Greenwood’s wine.

When the moon told them that midnight was drawing near, Thranduil asked for silence. Everybody’s attention was focused on their king, who proudly stood in their midst. As soon as he was sure that he had the attention of each elf, he started his speech:

“Time goes ever on. Never do we elves realize this more than on occasions like these. In just a few minutes we are going to leave one season behind for another. One more time the circle closes and the leaves change. Most of us have witnessed this miracle so often that the number is beyond our count. Yet, on tonight’s eve, we do not just celebrate Mother Nature, but us, too, for the seasons are as imperturbable as we are striving to be. Although we live in times that might grow even darker than they already are, we must not give up holding on to our values and customs. As long as the seasons tell their never-ending story there is hope for us, too.

We all know that a dark power is casting its shadow over our beloved home. Already, some voices say a new name is needed for Greenwood. A name, which would mirror the danger, that lurks in the south. In my opinion the only way to withstand the shadow is to love. Just when we forsake hatred and love instead will the evil never be able to gain any control over our minds. This afternoon I received a present of love.” With that he took Legolas’ crown out of Vinyanaur’s hands.

“My son made this wreath, when he first learnt the reason for our celebration and so this crown is truer than some circlets of far-off kings. With your permission I am going to wear it tonight.” Cheers rose all over the clearing. Seldom did they experience their king so sentimental. With a smile on his face he asked a beaming Legolas to come to him. He lifted him up on his arms and told him to do the same thing he had done earlier this day. When at last Legolas had crowned his father everyone fell into a new song, greeting the new season. The child himself did not hear it anymore. Comfortably placed in his father’s arms his eyes grew distant and his mind went off to different shores. Thranduil placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I love you, my little star.”

*~*The End*~*

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