This is my answer to the challenge Tux posted a few days ago on the MC list.

The challenge was, writing a story involving a child, elf lords, boots, a fork and the phrase "Is that supposed to have this colour?"

This is what came to my mind.

I hope you like it.

Thanks to San for editing

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, I only borrowed them for a while.

Summary: the title says it all ;-)

Of Grapes and Elflings

"Ada?!" Thranduil looked up from the pile of papers on his desk when he felt a light tug on his robe. He had been so absorbed in all these trading contracts and requests, that he had not noticed his son's presence until now.

"What is it, little one?" He shoved back his chair, bent down and lifted the tiny elfling up into his lap.

"Ada, I want to help tonight, please!"

Thranduil was always lost when his boy looked up to him the way he did right now: Big pleading eyes - nearly too big for the tiny face -, with a little pout on his lips, but this time he had to be strong.

He would need all his strength to forbid Legolas this fun, and he felt sorry for him, but it had to be.

"Legolas, I have told you this ten times before, and the answer is still the same as the last time you begged me to let you take part of this. You are way too young and you will have to wait like all the other elflings of your age until it is your turn."

"But Ada, the twins take part this year ...." Legolas pouted; embarrassed that his friends could do something he was not allowed to do.

"It will be their first time this year and I think they don't have pestered their poor parents like you do. "Thranduil gave his son a wide grin before he started to tickle the boy merciless.

Legolas shrieked and laughed at the same time, squirming to get out of his fathers strong grip, but Thranduil did not let him go.

Would someone have entered the study only moments later, he would have been greeted with the sight of a usually regal elven king rolling over the floor with an elfling, entangled in a tickling war, both laughing and shrieking when the other hit a ticklish spot.

This time it was Thranduil who surrendered and ended the war for the time being. Today they did not have the time to play for hours like they usually did in the late afternoon.

There were guests from all the elven realms in Greenwood and tonight would be the great feast for why they all had come to this place.

Thranduil watched his panting and giggling son closely, hoping that this game was enough to distract him from what he wanted when he entered the study. But Legolas' next words showed him that this was not the case.

"Ada, would you allow me to take part when I promise that I will behave during my lessons....and..." still a little breathless Legolas thought for a moment before he added the last thing he had to bargain with, "and... when I promise ... not to play any pranks on the tutors anymore?"

He sat on the floor beside his father and looked at him with those big puppy eyes Thranduil usually could not withstand. The Elven-Lord forced his face into an unreadable mask. He knew that it would hurt his precious little boy and he felt very sorry for him, but this one time he could not give in. He could not break an age old tradition, not for anyone and especially not for his own son. Legolas would have to wait like every other elfling before him.

Thranduil stood up and took his son once more up in his arms. "Come little one, I want to show you something."

All the time they had played, the gentle breeze had carried the sound from the outside world into the study. A lot of elves were already gathered in the courtyard to watch the last preparations for tonight's celebrations.

Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn watched the spectacle from a bench at the left side of the square, while Elrond and Celebrian had a look at their two sons who helped to erect the two huge tubs, which would be needed later.

The twins were of not much help but the carpenters let them have their way anyhow by telling them what tools would be needed. Both ran eagerly to bring the busy elves what they needed.

The two royals watched from their advanced point of view how all worked together to get everything ready. In a few candle marks they would celebrate the beginning of autumn and the harvest time.

Like every year on this special feast, the first ripe grapes of the year would be collected and pressed in the huge wooden tubs. Then the juice would be filled in the barrels, where it would ferment and ripe. Until one day, centuries later, those barrels would leave the cellars again holding the famous Dorwinion.

And like every year one tub would be for the leaders of the different realms and the other for the young elflings who would have to work for the first time in their life. It was an age old tradition, that the Lords and Ladies would mash the first grapes with their own feet, and that the younger ones would follow their lead. This was their way of teaching the young ones that everything nature gave them had to be earned with work and that nothing came from nothing.

That was the way it had been long ago, and it still was and would be in the future, but now it was no longer as serious as it had been in the first time. Now it was more playful, but the effect was still the same. The young ones would learn that not all in life was fun and games but that they had duties to fulfil and that they had to cherish everything nature was willing to give.

That is why they had to wait until they reached the proper age for participating, for the little ones would not understand what this work would mean and only play around with the grapes.

Every elf was born with an outmost respect for nature, but even this affection had to be supported and developed with gentle education every day.

Thranduil knew that all the elflings looked forward to the day when they would be allowed to climb into the tub to help the adults with the wine making, and he knew that they would feel more mature afterward, even when they still had to wait 38 years to reach adulthood.

He knew from his own experience what it felt like. The moment he had climbed in that tube all these years ago was still in his mind. Every year he relived his own first work, when he watched the young elflings having their fun with the task.

He returned from the past when he felt Legolas moving in his arms. The little one had his head buried in the crook of his father's neck and his eyelids dropped more with every breath he took.

Looking down at his boy Thranduil thought that his little lesson would have to wait until Legolas would be more receptive. He carried the boy to a soft cushioned bench at the far side of his study, laid the lithe body down and covered him with a small comforter. Legolas snuggled immediately under the blanket and curled up to a tiny ball. He watched his father sleepily, while Thranduil settled himself on the bench and propped up the boys' head on his thigh. It was way past the elfling's afternoon nap and Thranduil wanted him to have his rest. It would be a long evening for the little one.

"Ada, would you tell me a story, please?" Legolas asked around a yawn.

"You are already too tired; you would not be awake until I have finished it," Thranduil teased the boy, knowing that he would tell him a story no matter if the boy was awake or at sleep in moments.

"I will be awake ...promise...." Legolas could barely hold his eyes open but he refused to give in to sleep until he heard one of the stories his father always told him before he went to sleep.

"Well then ... which story can I tell you this time....let me see," Thranduil mused, brushing over Legolas head.

"What about the story of uncle Glorfy and the Balrog..?" the boy muttered, for it was one of Legolas' favourite stories, and he loved to hear it over and over again.

"No little one, not this time... This time I have a new one for you..." Thranduil replied with a smile. "And do not call Lord Glorfindel uncle Glorfy when he can hear you."

"But he said I can call him by this name.." Legolas peeped out from under his covers.

"Oh...he did?... I always thought..." Thranduil had to suppress a chuckle when he thought of the mighty warrior called "uncle Glorfy".

"Anyway... let's get the story started." Thranduil leaned back against the back of the bench, collected his thoughts and with a deep breath he began to tell.

"A long, long time ago, at the beginning of the second age, there lived a little elfling with his parents, who were king and queen of a huge realm. They lived in a palace not unlike ours here, surrounded by vast forests and plains. They lived a happy life; for there was no evil there, only happiness, joy and merrymaking. The elfling was free to play in the woods at his own liking; there was nothing to fear for him. He had many friends in the woods, animals, trees and he loved to play with his friends under the canopies of his wooden friends. After he had finished his lessons for the day, of course."

"How old was this elfling, was he younger than me?"

"No little one, at that time he was a bit older but not much, let's say he was one year older than you are now. This particular elfling was very curious and he drove his tutors nearly crazy with all his questions. He always wanted to know what happened around him and more important, why it happened. But one day his curiosity brought him into great trouble."

Legolas turned around and faced his father intrigued. "What did he do?"

"Well, it was on a day like this, it was the beginning of the harvest celebration. The little elfling sat with his parents at the table of the king, while all around them were all the mighty Lords and Ladies. Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, Cirdan from Mithlond, Lord Glorfindel and even Gil-Galad, the high king of all elves had made his appearance together with Elrond, whom Gil-Galad had raised after the departure of his parents. The elfling did not care who sat beside him at the table, he still was offended by the fact that his father had forbidden him, to participate in tonight's fun."

"Oh...oh..." Legolas eyes had now the size of saucers and a light blush crept over his cheeks. "Like I was today ...?" he whispered.

"Believe me; you have been not so bad..." Thranduil assured him still brushing the golden hair. "So... the boy sat sulking in his chair and watched the Lords and Ladies when they made their way down from the dais to the huge tubs. They wound their way through the gathered elves until they stood in the middle of the courtyard. There they waited.

Only moments later it started.

Torches were lit along a path, that lead into the forest and they could hear wonderful voices sing praise to nature. First far away, but it drew nearer until the first elves came in sight. It was a procession of dozens of elves. Everyone of them carried a basket on his or her back, filled with the deep red grapes from the vineyard. The baskets were emptied into the tubs until both were filled up to one third of their height.

A servant handed a goblet over to each one of them and they all lifted them up to the night sky in a silent prayer, before Galadriel started to speak. She spoke of the gifts of nature and how they all were meant to protect the world around them and how the elves could live in harmony with their surroundings. That they only have to ask when they want something from nature, and not only rip it out without thanking for the gracious gift.

What happened next was something that made the elfling gap, with his mouth wide open. For a moment he forgot even that he still was sulking. After the lords have emptied their goblets on the grounds after they have taken one sip, all of them removed their formal robes, under which they all wore leggings, a short tunic and knee-high leather boots. The elfling had never seen Lady Galadriel in other clothes than her floating robes. To see her in trousers and a tunic shocked him."

Thranduil heard a little gasp from Legolas, when the elfling tried to imagine how the Lady would look like in trousers. "Did she not feel embarrassed not wearing her robes?" Legolas asked silently.

"No, why should she? See, that the elfling had not seen her in trousers before did not mean that she never wore those. The fact is that she preferred leggings and a tunic when she was at home. Anyway, the little elfling watched the lords when they entered the tub and started to mash the grapes under the cheering of the gathered crowd.

A short time later the young ones arrived and started their share of work in the other tub.

Even if they had to work harder than the adults, they had a lot of fun with the whole thing.

Later that evening, the little elfling dozed off at the table and his mother brought him up to his room where he could sleep in peace. The little boy woke up when it was still dark outside and he felt not tired at all. The whole place was quiet and so he decided to have a look downstairs where the feast had taken place. Maybe he could have fun there now that all were sleeping.

He shrugged in his boots and sneaked down the hallways to the courtyard where he only found abandoned tables and seats. Not a single elf was there, only the remains of the feast.

The room was still filled with the smell of the torches, candles, food, and the most overwhelming smell was that of the freshly mashed grapes in the tubs.

It beckoned him closer and closer until he stood in front of one of them. He looked up its high wall, it was much taller than he had expected. In fact, he could not even reach the edge with outstretched arms.

But luck had not evaded him this day. There was a ladder leaning at the wall, beside a huge fork which was used to turn over the grapes in the tubs and add new ones. Both, the ladder and the fork were stained with the thick red juice of the grapes. Little did he know that this ladder usually would be inside the tub.

He looked at the ladder, then down at his clothes. He still wore his nightshirt, a new one he only had it for a few weeks. It had been a gift from his mother at his begetting day.

He knew that he would be lectured should he ruin it with the juices, so he took it of. Now he stood there naked with only his boots at his feet.

He put the shirt on one of the tables before he went back to the tub and proceeded to climb up the ladder. Taking the first step he noticed that the ladder was quit unstable on its feet, but he managed to reach the top without falling down.

Looking down into the tub he saw that there were still a lot of grapes left in it.

He climbed over the top and let himself fall down into the soft mass.

He sunk into the sticky substance which welled over the rims of his boots and ran down his calves until it reached his toes.

He wriggled his toes inside. It felt a bit odd like walking in mud, but walking in mud was more fun without boots, so he tore them of ... but where to go with them?"

Thranduil waited for a response but none came, looking down he saw that Legolas had a thumb in his mouth and was at sleep. He smiled but he continued his story, he knew that it would invade the dreams of the little one and he would remember.

"So where to go with the boots? The only logical thing for the elfling was to toss them over the edge, and so he did... Well, let's say he tried, the first attempt failed and the boot came down again with a splash and the juices and mashed grapes covered the elfling. He tried once again and this time he managed to get the first one out. It made much more noise than he had expected.

The clattering sound he heard did not fir with leather hitting the stony grounds of the courtyard. What he did not know was that the boot had hit the fork, which fell sideways and hit the ladder.

The ladder hitting the floor was the noise he had heard, but the elfling did not ponder much about this while he still tried to get rid of the second boot. Then he managed to throw it up high enough, but it made its way not out of the tub, but dangled over the edge.

That did not bother the elfling at all; he was glad that it was out of his hands, and he was free now to do what he wanted to do.

So he enjoyed the feeling of the substance between his toes and he jumped up and down to imitate what he had seen earlier that night.

It did not take long until the elfling slipped and he fell down face first.

When he emerged out of the grapes he had swallowed a lot of juice and fruits, and was covered from head to toes in the sticky substance.

He liked the taste of it and suddenly he felt his stomach grumble, which reminded him that he had no breakfast. It was a bit early for breakfast, but outdoor activities always made him hungry.

So he sat down and started to shovel the fruits into his mouth like he had not eaten for days.

He was so absorbed in the task of filling his stomach that he did not notice that someone had approached the tub he was in.

He did not notice the face that hovered over the edge of the tub until he heard the voice of Gil-Galad. 'I found him!'

The elfling looked up; his features smeared with juices of mashed grapes clinging to his hair. His entire body was covered in it too.

It did not take long until they had him out of the tub. Gil-Galad was the one who held him at arms length, handing him over to his father who waited with a huge towel.

'Is that supposed to have this colour?' The high king asked with barely hidden amusement.

'I think not.' Was the answer of the elfling's father.

'I think it will take some time before we get all the colour out of his hair and this little rascal will have to explain a lot when he is clean again.'

The boy knew he was in trouble the moment he looked into his fathers eyes, but he also knew that in a short time all would be well again. That afternoon his father told him all about the tradition and why he would have to wait a few more years, and finally the little one understood. And he never promised his father that he would not beg again.... But that promise was forgotten the next year. But he never tried to get in the tub again without the permission of his parents."

Thranduil finished his story, bent down and brushed a light kiss on his son's forehead before he rose from the bench carefully, not to disturb the boy's sleep. When he had tugged the boy securely under his blanket he walked over to the window again and watched the busy elves down in the courtyard.

With a smile he let his memory wander back to that day so long ago.

He still felt his ears ring after the lecture he had gotten from both of his parents that day.

And how many bathes it had taken to get the red colour out of his hair. For weeks he had to walk around with hair dyed red, but after a few days it had faded to a bright pink which had lasted much longer.

And he remembered the day when he finally had taken his place among the youngsters for that feast and how proud he had been afterwards.

He lingered for a few more moments in the past before he returned to his work with a sigh. There was still a lot to do and time was fleeing.

With a last look over to his son he sat back down behind his desk and started where he had stopped earlier, a smile still lingering upon his face from old memories not forgotten.

The End

A/N: I'm still working on chapter 9 of "Moonlight". By now I'm half way through it.

With a little luck and a little less work I will be able to post it one or two weeks.

Thank you for your patience.