Sleep Sounds

Thranduil smiled as he gently rocked back and forth. His heart full of love for the tiny little body wrapped up in his arms.

Thranduil always loved rocking his baby to sleep. Getting to hold him close and make him safe. Even after crying for hours, Thranduil still felt joy and a fulfilling kind of happiness. It filled his soul with pure warmth of love to hold the divine little baby in his arms. Though the child could fit in one of his hands he appreciated the weight of him in his arms. He really loved hearing the baby breathe through the night and feeling the fragile little gusts of air. He usually recited stories in his mind while holding the child, he would tell the stories later when the baby understood and wouldn't wake up and wail like a banshee.

"Ada! Adar. I wan one of you blankets. I wan a big boy blanky!" The little child said as he sat in the chair that could hold about six of him. He watched his father smile lightly and got a blanket off his bed.

"Yes I know. You're a big boy. Now hop up, I very well can't sit in your lap, now can I?" Thranduil brought over his heavy light blue blanket and sat down in the old rocking chair. Legolas happily sat and snuggled up to his father.

Thranduil happily tossed the blanket over the both of them and using the tips of his toes he started rocking back and forth lightly. Within minutes he heard Legolas's deep breaths even out and his little snores. 'Sleep sounds '. Thranduil waited a few more minutes before he wrapped his blanket around his baby and gracefully walked down to the connecting room where his son usually resides. He gently laid the small body on the mattress there and covered him up. Thranduil watched him sleep for a moment before kissing his forehead.

"Good night my Lissi lapse."

( Lissi lapse- sweet baby)

"Father! I am too old for this! I'm practically grown. If you want to go sit in the dumb old chair then do so by yourself. I'm busy!" Legolas said as he walked past his father. Thranduil stood, arms still open from where he offered a hug. His heart broke. His son too old to sit with him? His baby is grown? He no longer wanted his fathers affections?

Thranduil dropped his arms and frowned. His chest hurt with heartbreak. He knew this would happen. All babies grow up and leave and don't need your help anymore.

Alcohol had been Thranduil's answer to the tremendous heartbreak. Lots and Lots of alcohol. Thranduil's eventually made it back to his bedroom. He glanced at the chair. He slumped down into it. This is where he had told his son stories about their people, about animals and plants, where he answered every single one of his questions. This is where he was vulnerable. This was a place to show love and be snuggled. Thranduil teared up as he thought about everything that happened in this chair.

Legolas was rocked to sleep here for years, decades, more than a century. Legolas had been rocked here when he was sick and when he broke his leg. Thranduil had read him books in this chair and taught him how to spell and braid. Legolas had turned into a wild toddler and then into a lanky little leaf. Thranduil watched his baby grow from this chair. Everything important had happened in this chair. When Thranduil had fallen ill with fever Legolas had brought him stolen snacks from the kitchen to this chair.

Tears burnt down his face that night. He rocked himself back and forth and before long the alcohol threw him into a fitful sleep in the chair. The king woke up too early in the morning. He was sat up and automatically reached forward to cradle his son but when his hands met nothing. He frowned and remembered what happened. He tore himself away from the chair and threw himself into his own bed, facing away from the chair. Their chair.

Days pass and Legolas doesn't come to sit with him. Days, weeks, months, years. Thranduil couldn't bear to move the chair though. He sat in it occasionally and rocked himself to sleep. Sometimes when Legolas got injured and refused to let Thranduil anywhere near him, sometimes when Legolas said something that brought good memories back, and sometimes when his heart felt empty, the king would get an old tattered baby blanket and wad it up and rock it to sleep, letting his tears wash away the unloved feeling.

Legolas was out hunting orcs and being well... grown. He was a strong young man and a great prince to his people. But Thranduil still wanted to father him. He still wanted to wipe his face when he got dirty, he still wanted to pick him up and carry him when he looked exhausted, and he still wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and rock him to sleep in their chair. Thranduil still wanted to love his baby.

Years pass and the young prince doesn't need him. But it's okay. He gets used to it. Thranduil's night in the chair dwindle down to a point where he doesn't even look at the object anymore. But he never moved it. He will always keep it in his room.

One night when Thranduil laid facing the door and he heard his door knob jiggle a bit. He closed his eyes and listened to the lighter than air footsteps walked through till they neared his bed. No elf in this realm would ever dare to disturb the king like this. No, everyone would knock and await an answer. He heard whoever it was sniffle and shift something, a blanket maybe, and sit down in the chair. Everyone knew that that chair was not for anyone except the king and his child. His child. Legolas usually knocked like everyone else nowadays. He treated his father like everyone else did. Perhaps not tonight though.

Thranduil opened his eyes just a bit. Just enough to watch his son, dressed in his green nighty, sniffle and wipe his tears and sit down in the chair. He looked so young, so small. He curled up so his feet were flat against the seat and his back was against one of the arms. He pulled a green cotton knit blanket up over him.

Thranduil sat up, pushing himself up with one arm, and Legolas whipped his head around at the sound of his father's bed creaking.

"I'm sorry! I should have knocked or waited until tomorrow! I'm sorry Ada!" ( Ada- father) Legolas said hurriedly and stood up, his nighty caught on a loose splinter and he frantically tried to unhook it. Thranduil rose up from his bed and grabbed his son's blanket.

"Legolas, do you want to rock yourself or do you want me to hold you? You need to sleep, mime yondo." ( mime yondo- my son ) Thranduil said with a concerned look painting his features. Legolas just shrunk into himself and held onto his blanket. He finally got the edge of his pajama uncaught from the chair and he brought his other hand to hold his blanket where it hung between him and his father. He looked just like when he used to want something but didn't want to ask for it.

Thranduil waited and looked down at his son's face. There were dark circles under his eyes and his eyes were red. From crying maybe?

"i just wanted to um i wanted to... to" Legolas shifted his eyes around and stuttered. His voice caught in his throat. Tears stung at his eyes. Thranduil waited patiently for Legolas to finally close his eyes and spit out "I want Ada to hold me! I just want snuggles and I want to sleep! I can't sleep!" Legolas said and tears ran down his face and snot dripped from his nose. Thranduil quickly pulled his son into an embrace. Legolas just stood with his arms holding onto his green blanket and hiccuped and sobbed. He felt so deprived of affection. He wanted to sleep so bad, he hadn't been able to sleep because of his nightmares. He just wanted to be protected and sleep.

"Come now, come sit with your father. I'll protect you. Come get warm and rest. My poor child, rest." Thranduil said and sat down in the chair. He pulled at Legolas's arm and brought the young man down into his lap.

Legolas rested his head against the crook of Thranduil's armpit and put his legs under the arm of the chair. Thranduil positioned the blanket over them both. Thranduil rocked them gently with his toes. Legolas sniffled and Thranduil wiped his face with his own sleeve. Soon Legolas was fast asleep. Thranduil smiled.

' Sleep Sounds'