Legolas, will you take this down to the kitchens and refill it with sugar?" Thranduil said, as he sat down to breakfast and found the sugar bowl empty.

Legolas nodded and reached for the bowl. He knew the way to the kitchens, and no longer flinched as he walked past the guards. He emerged into the warm kitchen, breathing in the smell of the fresh bread he would be eating for breakfast with milk.

One of the kitchen maids turned to look at him and Legolas felt a brief flesh of shyness and fear. He stammered, "F-father would like me to refill the sugar bowl."

The elleth looked at her doughy hands as she turned from the breadboard and said, "The sugar is on the low shelf at the end of the room."

Legolas nodded. Several small sacks were on the shelf, and he ran his eyes over the elvish lettering on each one before he selected one and took it to fill the bowl with. The job done, he skipped back up to eat.

Thranduil spooned sugar into his tea as Legolas buttered his bread and started to eat. Harune glanced at Legolas's bright eyes with a smile and frowned as Thranduil coughed and spat out his mouthful of tea. He slammed the mug down and glared at Legolas.

The poor elfling cringed back in his seat, suddenly frightened by the fierce look in Thranduil's kind eyes.

"Legolas!" Thranduil exploded. "I do not appreciate this kind of joke during breakfast! I sent you to fill up the sugar, not to waste salt!"

"I-I meant not," Legolas stuttered.

"Go up to your room!" Thranduil snapped. "Immediately."

Legolas fled from the room with a sob, and Thranduil gulped down milk to take the taste of salty tea out of his mouth. He glared at the salt in the sugar bowl. He and Harune sat in cold silence.

Thranduil sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Ada, do you think I was too harsh?"

Harune contemplated. "Yes, given his hurt past. I think you should apologize for yelling at him; you scared him, Thranduil."

Thranduil gave a jerky nod and walked up to his son's room. He entered after knocking and his heart broke at the sound of Legolas's pitiful sobbing. The elfling lay weeping in the center of his bed, clutching his stuffed elk while rivers of tears ran down his cheeks. Thranduil sat down behind him and gently coaxed the elfling into his lap.

"I am sorry I yelled, Legolas," Thranduil said quietly. "I meant not to scare you, my little one. Will you forgive me?"

Legolas looked up, his eyes wide. No one had apologized to him before for hurting his feelings. He gulped down a last sob and buried his face in Thranduil's neck, whispering, "Yes."

Thranduil kissed the top of his soft head. "About the salt—"

Legolas squirmed, his face hot. He looked down in shame at his hands and whispered, "It was an accident, father. I-I cannot read elvish le-lettering."

"You could have asked someone to read it for you."

Legolas cringed. "I-I could not. I am an elf who cannot read elvish or speak it, and I-I felt—I felt ashamed to ask."

Thranduil looked into his son's soft eyes and smiled. "Oh, Legolas, I should have realized you could not read elvish, having lived with humans, but I will teach you to read it, and to speak it. You can start to learn by calling me ada."

"Ada?" said Legolas uncertainly.

"It means a male someone who cares for a little one," Thranduil said, grinning.

"Ada," said Legolas with satisfaction. The word described Thranduil to the last hair. He hugged the tall elf, his heart in his eyes. "Ada."