Family Trees
Word Count: 2,269
Rating: K+/PG, though not for the tree, unfortunately
Disclaimer: Normally I'm wittier, but... I got nothing. I would say I own nothing, but that's not true. I created the original characters that are driving the plot, so... I guess I own something.
Summary: Pre-fellowship. When Legolas decides to teach his friend's brother to talk to trees, Firyavaryar decides to play a prank instead, and both plans go awry.
Author's Note: So, when I was writing Storms in Middle Earth, in chapter five, in answer to one of Aragorn's concerns, Legolas mentions a story about when his friend Firyavaryar played a prank on his brother involving talking to trees and led to Idhrenion vowing never to talk to another tree.

I was going back and forth on how chapter ten of Storms should go (I have things written but can't decide on the order of things,) so I ended up writing out this prank gone a bit awry, and perhaps this story did, too, but I do enjoy the glimpses into the younger Legolas and the family and thought I might as well share this one as I did the incident with Legolas, Aragorn, and the squirrel.

Family Trees

"Varyar!" the youngest elfing cried, jumping up onto the bed and bouncing it as he did, crawling into his brother's lap though he was almost as big as Firyavaryar these days. Sérëdhiel watched them with an indulgent smile, shaking her head at the two of them as she often did. Legolas stopped in the doorway, trying not to laugh at Idhrenion's excitement or Varyar's annoyance. This family did amuse him, but more than that, it was a comfort just to be in their presence.

"You are getting heavy," Varyar said, pushing his brother off his stomach. "Tell me why you had to come pounce on me."

"Legolas said he would teach me to speak to the trees."

"Did he now?" Firyavaryar asked, looking at Idhrenion before glancing at the prince of Greenwood. Legolas tried to look innocent, but he could see by his expression that Varyar was not fooled. "And why would he want to teach you to talk to trees?"

"Because all elves can talk to trees and it's ridiculous that we don't know how."

Varyar shook his head. "Only wood elves want to talk to trees, and we are not wood elves, little brother."

"We could be since we live in Greenwood now," Idhrenion said. "Can't we, Sérëdhiel?"

His sister sighed, sitting on the edge of Firyavaryar's bed. "We cannot change what we were born, and we were not born wood elves. I do not know that you cannot talk to trees, though. You might find you have a talent for it."

"Do not give him false notions," Varyar warned. "Being able to talk to trees will not change what we are."

"I don't like being Avari. Being Avari is stupid. Everyone says so."

Firyavaryar took his sister's hand, pulling her over to his side. She frowned, but trusting him as she always did, she said nothing. Varyar lifted his brother's head, getting him to look at her. "What do you see, Idhrenion?"

"Sérëdhiel."

"And what is Sérëdhiel to you?"

"Peace. Comfort. Love. Sister. Happiness. Laughter..." Idhrenion paused, thinking. "Oh, and healer. Cook, though her stew is terrible."

"Next time, you may starve," Sérëdhiel said, a bit annoyed, trying to pull away from Varyar.

"She is also logic and reason, wisdom and serenity," Firyavaryar said, his tone pointed. "And Avari. So I do not ever want you to say that Avari is stupid—because we are Avari, and we are not stupid or wrong or—you don't have to try to be a wood elf to belong because you will always belong with us."

"Yes," Sérëdhiel agreed, giving each of her brothers a kiss in turn. "Always. That is what family means."

Legolas watched them all with a painful ache, wishing he felt the same closeness with his own family. Since his mother died, though, all had changed.

"Get over here, you," Sérëdhiel called. "You may be a wood elf, but I think we'll let you into this strange family of ours, gwador. If you want that, of course."

"That depends," Legolas said, trying to contain his excitement, though he thought that Varyar at least had seen it, for he was smiling more than Legolas would have expected. "Is there some kind of ritual or cost for that invitation?"

"Oh, yes," Varyar said, his smile growing a bit dangerous. "And I will tell you what it is later."

"This isn't just because your brother suggested he'd rather be a wood elf than whatever you might be—and don't say Avari because you're not the kind of Avari I've always heard about and you admitted that you don't know what your parents were, you just claim Avari because you can—is it?"

Varyar frowned, stopping in the middle of their walk to look at Legolas. "What?"

The prince shifted uncomfortably. "You know what I mean. I don't want you doing this just because you're upset that your brother thinks he should be a wood elf. He is young, and he wants to belong. There is no shame in that."

"Not so long as he belongs because of what he is and not what he is pretending to be, there is not," Firyavaryar said. "I know you accept us, Legolas, but you are only one elf, not the kingdom. Your word may end up being law someday, but it is not now, and even if it was, you cannot force everyone to be happy with what we are."

"I do not think you should have to be ashamed, either. Whatever decisions your ancestors made, you should be judged on the ones you make yourself."

"That is what I have said, but I will add this, too: pretending to be something you are not will only come to harm you and the people you pretend for. It aids no one," Varyar said, starting to walk again. "I also do not think that being a wood elf would suit Idhrenion. He likes his books too much."

"You make us all sound ignorant."

"That is what you assume I said. I just meant that he has not affinity for nature, and he would rather be in with books. This whole talking to trees thing—that will not please him."

"Is this because the trees won't talk to you?"

"Who says they don't?"

Legolas frowned. "You never mentioned that you talked to trees."

"Of course not. Then you would stop telling them your secrets."

"You... you yrch!" Legolas sputtered as Varyar grinned, rushing off into the trees. He shouldn't believe it—the trees would not tell his secrets to an Avari of all elves, and he shouldn't let Firyavaryar bait him this way, but there was something about that grin that always got him to chase after his friend until they could both run no longer.

He came around a thick section of trees, stopping to look for sign of where his friend had gone only to find Varyar resting against a tree. Legolas would have been more annoyed if he hadn't recognized the truth of the poor thing behind him.

"It is dead."

"Yes, it is," Varyar agreed. "Therefore it is the perfect tree for my little brother to speak to."

"We should remove it."

"Legolas, if it upsets you so much to be by this tree—"

"No. Yes." Legolas sighed. "I do not understand your lack of connection to nature. It is—it should be in all elves—but you do not seem to feel it. The elves in Lórien and Imladris may not have a connection as strong as ours, but you seem to have none at all."

"That is because we Avari are connected to the dark lord and cursed by the Valar."

"Don't say that. You would never serve a dark lord, and I don't see how the Valar could curse a friend as dear to my heart as you are," Legolas said, his chest tightening. He did not know if he felt his way because of the dead tree or the words his friend had said.

Varyar touched a hand to the tree, looking at it with pity. "I do not understand your connection to nature, either. I have tried, but it does not come to me as it does to you. You have lived your life in a beautiful forest, and it talks to you in ways that will never be known to me."

"I could teach you as well as Idhrenion." Legolas turned his head, studying the other elfling. "Wait. I thought you said the trees told you my secrets."

"Do they?"

"Yrch," Legolas repeated, getting a laugh from Varyar as the other elfling started climbing up into the dead tree. "What are you doing?"

"Idhrenion will be here for the lesson soon. I have to hide, or I cannot be the voice of the tree."

"He will know your voice. You will not fool him, and you should not use the tree like this."

Varyar leaned down out of the tree. "Would you ask a live one to help us, then? I tried, but they like you better."

Legolas laughed. "You are such a tease sometimes, and no, I will not ask any other tree to be a part of this trap you have set for your brother."

"I knew it," Sérëdhiel said, coming up to them. Legolas had been to distracted to hear her approach, and he should have. He was failing to be aware of his surroundings again, and that always ended up with him hurt. "If you two are concocting some scheme to hurt Idhrenion—"

"I only wanted to have the tree tell Idhrenion to read less and spend more time outside. What harm is there in that?"

"I don't believe you."

"I think you are wise not to, Sérëdhiel," Legolas agreed, getting a glare from Varyar. "There must be more to this plan of his."

"And maybe I'd tell him to listen to me more," Firyavaryar said, defensive. "That is all."

Sérëdhiel folded her arms over her chest, but she turned back to the way she'd come. "That is Idhrenion."

Varyar concealed himself in the tree, and Legolas turned to greet the young elfling as he came into their cluster of trees. "I don't know how Sérëdhiel always finds you, but I knew she would, so I followed her. Where's Firyavaryar? Didn't he leave with you, Legolas?"

Legolas did not think he could answer that. He would have to lie, and he had never been that good at it. Sérëdhiel took that role from him, and he would have to thank her for that later. "He decided he didn't want to watch you talk to trees."

"He's off trying it for himself, isn't he?" Idhrenion asked, grinning and clapping his hands together. "Good. I will have a proper teacher, and he won't, and he'll do it wrong. So, now, what do I do?"

"First you must learn to listen," Legolas said, leaning against the tree next to him before he remembered that he didn't want to know what the trees thought of their prank. "Go ahead. Lean your ears against the tree and let it speak to you."

Idhrenion walked over to the dead tree, looking up at it. "This one is sick."

"It might ease its troubles to speak to you some," Legolas said, lowering his head so as not to betray the lie. "Try it."

The elfling placed his ear next to the tree. "Do trees have names?"

"That one does," Sérëdhiel muttered, and Legolas gave her a sharp look. She folded her arms over her chest, not pleased with any of them, though she could have stopped this if she wanted to, so he did not know why she did not.

"Idhrenion..."

Something about whatever Varyar had done to disguise his voice was unsettling, and Legolas tried not to shudder when he heard it.

Frightened, Idhrenion lifted his head. "Yes, tree?"

"Idhrenion the great scholar... you have no time for us. You never come to see us. You are indoors always, reading books made from our bits and yet you turn aside from us."

"I didn't—Oh." Idhrenion frowned. "I guess books are made of you. I am sorry. I just like to read. Wouldn't you be offended if I read books in your woods?"

"No. You must come outdoors more often. You must see sunlight. And trees. Or else you will wither before your time."

"That is what my brother says."

"Your brother is wise."

"He is not! You're only agreeing with him because you're a stupid tree!"

"Idhrenion!"

"Stupid you call me. Stupid. You have broken the spirit of this poor tree, and now I must die," Varyar said, and Legolas heard him trying to climb down. A branch snapped under his weight, coming crashing down, splitting the tree as it did. Legolas searched the wreckage for his friend, trying to see if Varyar had fallen under it when it collapsed, though he'd heard no cry.

"I killed the tree!" Idhrenion cried, staring at it in horror. "I killed the tree!"

Seeing that terrified look on Idhrenion's face, Legolas was caught between laughter and apology, for the whole thing was so absurd that it was funny and yet it was not. He heard someone else laughing—Varyar, so at least he was unharmed by the fall—and tried to give his friend an explanation, but he did not quite manage it. "The tree was already—"

"I'm a tree killer!" Idhrenion wailed, running out of the forest. Legolas stared after him, blinking a few times as he tried to find a way to move.

"Idhrenion! Wait!" Sérëdhiel called after him, chasing after him with a speed Legolas had never seen her manage before. He should be glad. She would catch her brother soon, and when she did, all would be mended as only Sérëdhiel could.

"I should not have laughed," Firyavaryar said, crawling out of the tree and dusting himself off. He shook his head, and Legolas saw the worry in his face. "It was, for a moment, at least, funny, and perhaps someday he might see it that way, but I did not mean to scare him. I swear that."

"I know."

"I will have to tell him that I was in the tree."

Legolas grimaced. "He will hate you—all of us—for a long time."

"Better that than having him feel that he killed that tree. His anger will pass eventually. That is what family means. It may take centuries, since we are elves, but Idhrenion will forgive me—us," Varyar said. Then he added in a whisper, "I hope."