Author's note: I Know that it has been some time since I have updated Whisper of Agony. Yes, I haven't forgotten, and I am beaming with pride that so many of you are enjoying the story so far. But these last two years of college are putting me through the ringer, so I will have to wait for my schedule to calm a bit before I can post any more chapters or write any.. not just for Whisper of Agony but for any fic on my profile. So I dug up this little 2-year old story that I wrote while in the same medical predicament that I told most of you about. If you have been curious what happened, I broke my scapula. I won't tell you how, because frankly, the incident was embarrassing enough to explain to the doctors and nurses. But I am perfectly fine now.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this sweet one-shot!

Disclaimer: I don't own Legolas or any of the LOTR or Hobbit characters. All rights go to the brilliant minds of J.R.R Tolkien and Peter Jackson, and I seek no money or profit from this fan-work.

Buzzing Trouble

by: Light of the Eldar

A calm spring breeze softly undulated the petals of a flower as a black and yellow striped creature descended onto its fuzzy, sticky yellow surface. Two royal elves; one of golden hair and the other silver, sat beneath the boughs of an oak, enjoying a good meal and nature blossoming and thriving around them.

The golden-haired prince suddenly sat up and pointed toward a flower. "Ada, what is that?" he asked, clearly excited by what ever he had found.

The silver-haired king shifted his head towards the direction his son was pointing. "It is called a bee, Legolas."

Thranduil continued speaking, knowing it was highly likely for more like-questions to spring to his son's mind. He might as well answer them all ahead of time. "Bees are what help make this garden so beautiful. They land on flowers to drink the sugary sweet nectar inside them, and while they do this pollen sticks to their legs. When the bee flies to a new flower, the pollen from the bee's legs will then rub off onto that particular flower, giving it the ability to make seeds which will one day turn into new beautiful flowers. This process called pollination."

Legolas looked intrigued and lightly tugged on his father's sleeve. "More! Tell me more!" He took a bite of his food, the bread crunching as he waited patiently for a response.

Thranduil looked thoughtful for a moment, trying to find more interesting facts he could tell the boy. Then his eyes landed on what he himself held in his hand.

"All right, what we are eating now is honey and bread. Bees made the honey." Thranduil was uncertain at first if his son heard him, but sure enough, a few moments later, Legolas looked up from where he was experimentally running a finger over the glossy surface of his bread, and his eyes widened with excitement and surprise.

"Really?"

The Elvenking's lips twitched, finding it amusing how his son treated something so common as 'honey' as the world's most interesting discovery. "Yes. That is what you are touching with your finger."

Legolas stared at his honey coated finger for a moment before popping it into his mouth, savoring the sweet taste with newfound joy.

With a soft smile on his lips, Thranduil finished the last few bites of his own honey-lembas and laid back against the bark.

The cool breeze felt so good against his skin and the fresh oxygen sweetly filled his lungs, ridding them of the stale palace air. It had been much too long since his last vacation and the Elvenking intended on taking full advantage of the gracious time he had been afforded, to relax and gather his thoughts while on a lovely care-free picnic with his son.

The tree above the two was in all sense of the word, ecstatic to have the two royals- especially Elvenking- resting against its boughs after so many years, continuously sending both elves warm emotions of happiness and joy.

Thranduil reached forward and gently rested his hand on one of its exposed roots, his long fingers easily reaching entirely around the thickness of it in almost a caress, his face portraying the fierce love he felt for the greatly important part of his kingdom. Thranduil knew that if the strength of the elves ever failed the trees of their home would protect them till they were nothing but splinters.

The tree trembled excitedly in response and loosely wrapped that same root around the Elvenking's hand, before it uncoiled and nestled into the softly packed soil once more.

"I have missed you too, mellon," The Elvenking said, in a voice that was as crisp as the spring breeze brushing against the earth.

A tug.

Thranduil cracked an eye open, focusing on his son who bore an expression of expectancy. "What is it Ion-nin?" Thranduil asked, his eyes half lidded.

"How is honey made?"

Of course. "Do you remember the nectar I told you about?"

Legolas thought about for a moment before responding. "Yes."

"Well, when nectar is consumed by the bee, they then store it in their second stomach while-"

"Two stomachs?" Legolas looked down at his own stomach as if trying to imagine what it would be like. Bees must eat a lot of food, he decided.

Thranduil continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "The bee then flies back to its home, which is called a hive, and then the nectar is given to other bees who chew it until; with the help of something in their saliva, it is turned into honey."

Thranduil was of course, leaving out a few details, but he didn't want to get overly technical. His son would be taught all this and more very soon when he came of age and he wanted his early childhood to be filled with wonderment and imagination.

"I love bees!" Legolas said exuberantly, propping his head up on his elbows, content at watching nature's gatherers.

Thranduil hummed in response, continuing to lie against the trunk, eyes closed, and listened; listened to the beautiful melody of nature. An elf, especially a wood elf, needed it greatly from time to time. Legolas was too young to appreciate it or hear the melody yet, but he would be able to in time and Thranduil was going to be the one to show him the great symphony of their home.

~LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR~

Legolas smiled softly at the memory and then refocused his attention on the stripped creature he was staring at.

The little prince had come to the garden alone to watch the bees that afternoon, merely intent on observing the pollination his ada told him about. At least, that had been the purpose until one of the bees flew over to a flower close by the elfling.

Legolas's eyes widened at it's large size and he crawled closer for a better look. It was easily the size of his fist, the flower it rested on straining to hold it's weight, the stem slightly bending in more or less the shape of a half circle. The elfling had never seen a bee like this before. It looked like it did not belong with the other small bees; a giant amongst them. With the bee so close, Legolas could see its intricate wings, the tiny hairs on its body and legs. Mainly though, what drew Legolas's curiosity the most was the bee's fuzzy abdomen and it wasn't long before he wondered how it would feel to touch it.

It should be said that Legolas held out valiantly against the desire, occupying himself with the velvety soft leaves of a plant near his hand. But it was no bee, and eventually, he grew bored of it and his gaze drifted to the creature again. Yes, it was true that he had been taught to leave nature alone and not upset the natural balance, but to his young mind, he wasn't going to harm anything by touching a bee for just a brief second. After all, could he not touch the animals and trees?

Making up his mind, Legolas extended a hesitant finger toward the creature. Two things happened then that Legolas was not expecting: He touched the bee. However, instead of said bee remaining docile, it started coming after him. Of course, having no experience when it came to bees, this didn't frighten the elfling in the least and he stood transfixed as it buzzed around him. Too bad Legolas did not know of the terrible intentions the bee had in mind.

Then it happened, something Legolas was not prepared for in the least. The bee landed on the top of his hand.

Legolas stared at it curiously before a sharp stinging pain tore a cry from his throat.

The elfling bolted out of the garden so fast that one would have thought he was being chased by a pack of orcs, tears streaking down his face from the intensity of the pain. He didn't stop running until he reached his father's study. Legolas was about to knock when the door opened. To his immense relief, Thranduil stood in the doorway.

"A bee bit me! It hurts, ada.. it hurts…" Legolas whined and grabbed onto the Elvenking's legs tightly.

Thranduil gently pulled his son away from him to allow himself to kneel down to eye level with him. He tried to spot the injury, his eyes quickly roving over his son as he gave what comfort he could, afraid to touch anywhere but his back which he rubbed in an up and down motion. "It is all right, Legolas. You have been stung, but the pain will not last much longer-."

"It h-hurts very… badly, Ada!"

"I know it does ion-nin," Thranduil replied soothingly. "That is why I need you to show me where on your body you were stung so it can be treated."

Legolas sniffed and held out his left hand. A deep frown crossed the king's brow when he saw the welt on the top of it and a look of mild shock took over when he saw the large—why was it so big?—black stinger there, still pumping toxins into him.

That needs to come out right away but I have no time to warn him of the pain. So I will do it so quickly that he will barely feel it, Thranduil concluded.

Thranduil immediately grabbed his son's hand by the wrist and quickly scraped his fingernail across the stinger and pulled it out, careful not to squeeze it and release more venom into his skin. The action had been so quick and painless that Legolas had hardly noticed what his ada had done until his welt burned with a new vengeance.

"What did you do?" Legolas cried.

"The stinger had to come out Legolas." Thranduil said morosely, and lifted his son into his arms as more tears flowed. He rushed the elfling to the healing ward.

"Hurts… make it stop," Legolas pleaded, pulling his injured hand protectively against his chest.

"I know it does, my Greenleaf, I know it does," Thranduil crooned gently as he practically ran through the halls. Along the way, Thranduil worked out a treatment in his head. The most common was to apply an herbal paste that would draw out the poison and numb the area. However, the glaring problem with this is that it often took a while for the area to be numbed and the patient was often in pain for many hours afterward.

Thranduil quickly abandoned that idea, for the treatment was only used on those that either had no will, or time for anything else; mostly elves who sparred too close to flowers or those gathering honey without the proper protection. And that was a problem. Those were all things elves did, and Legolas was not an elf but an elfling. His pain tolerance, though high, was naturally much lower than an adult elf. The treatment would have to be quick but affective. But the answer still remained out of his grasp as to what that would be. Elflings hadn't graced Mirkwood in many ages. It wasn't until Legolas was born that many past medical procedures and treatments were put back into use. As a precaution, Thranduil had familiarized himself with every treatment, making careful note of the ones used on his son and ones he would need to use in case they were ever unable to reach a healer. However, none of his instruction had included the treatment of bee stings. The healers did not think it necessary because of Legolas's young age, and that had held true… until now.

The doors to the healing wing burst open like they were backed by a furious wind, causing them to bang loudly against the wall and startle the poor healer standing there.

"Bee sting," Thranduil blurted out, not wanting any time to be wasted on a diagnosis while his son remained in pain.

The healer recovered quickly and nodded, quickly retrieving a piece of ice and wrapping it in a thin cloth before setting it in the Elvenking's waiting hand.

Instead of putting his son down on the table as was normally done, Thranduil had merely settled him down onto his lap and was securely holding him with one hand, the other free to receive and administer whatever he was given. The moment the ice fell into his hand, he brought it where he expected his son's hand to be.

It was not there.

The elfling was currently curled into a tight ball and his arms were tucked protectively inside the cocoon of legs. When Thranduil tried to untangle the mass of limbs, he saw his son partially uncover his face and peek out towards the healer before hiding again.

Now sensing his son's embarrassment, Thranduil politely bid the healer to leave them. Though it was almost certain that she had been about to so without his coercion. She was quite insightful.

When they were alone, Legolas uncurled a little but he kept his hands tucked protectively near his stomach as he sobbed. The Elvenking knew that the heat emanating from both their bodies was making the sting hurt much worse, and he tried to do something about it.

"Legolas, you must allow it to breath, ion-nin." Thranduil said, carefully pulling his son's right hand free of the confines of the boy's knees and into the open air. A relieved breath hitch told Thranduil that the air was giving his son some temporary relief. Without any time passing, Thranduil pressed the ice to the angry raised welt.

Legolas flinched when the ice contacted his skin but did not pull his hand away

"How does it feel?" Thranduil asked, hoping the answer was a positive one.

"Burns," Legolas replied, with a sob.

"I know, but the ice will help ease it very soon," Thranduil assured. "Feel it penetrating your skin and cooling the burn."

Thranduil ran his fingers through his golden hair and rubbed his back to help soothe and comfort him as he cried, his heart aching seeing his child in so much pain. There was scarcely an elf who hadn't gotten stung by a bee at least once; Thranduil being unfortunately among those who did. But Legolas's sting was far worse than his own had been since the stinger was left in longer; and thus, more venom had entered the elfling's skin and it made the sting more potent and painful.

"My poor little leaf… I would bear this pain for you if I could," Thranduil whispered, and continued to comfort his child. At first he would massage his fingers though his son's golden hair, but since that no longer garnered a reaction he rubbed his back in soothing circles.

It did not take long for warning bells to go off in Thranduil's head. He took stock of the passage of time and realized several minutes had gone by since the ice was applied. And although Legolas had quieted a little from the rhythmic motions to his back, it worried Thranduil to see that he was still crying. The freezing temperature of the ice was beginning to make his own hand hurt it was so cold, so it should have been numbing the sting much more than it was.

I don't understand. Why isn't the ice doing more? Could there be so much venom that not even Ice will help? What bee could do this?

"Ada, make it stop!" Legolas cried, and the agonizing sound of it tore at Thranduil's heart more than anything could.

Thranduil lifted the ice away from the sting to examine it, and a deep crease of worry marred his brow. The welt had doubled in size and was now a huge swollen bright red bump that nearly surpassed the width of the ice, which was no small piece. It was then that Thranduil remembered the abnormally large stinger he had removed. Thranduil was certain that no such bees existed in his realm, it must have traveled there or hitched a ride by wagon or someone's person. The largest stinger ever found was about the size of his pinky, while the one he removed was as big as his thumb. In retrospect of that, the Elvenking was honestly surprised his son was not screaming.

Thranduil sent- or more accurately shouted- for the healer. Thankfully, she had stayed within hearing distance and came running when she heard the call. When she entered, her eyes caught the confused and worried expression of the king.

"Is the ice not working, my lord?" The healer asked, worry tinging her voice.

Thranduil said nothing and merely lifted the ice to reveal the burn, knowing it was faster than explaining what had happened. The healer paled and immediately rushed over to the shelves. The Elvenking could only watch with trepidation as her hands flew from shelf to shelf, grabbing jars filled with a number of different herbs and compiling them by a deep dish before she poured small amounts of each into it and ground them up.

She began to speak as she worked. "Ice will not help a sting this severe. The only treatment is an herbal salve that will numb the pain and neutralize the poison."

Thranduil hummed in response, very much distracted by his son's condition.

After an astounding five seconds, the healer stopped grinding, the herbs being the consistency of a paste, and rushed back over to them. By this time, Legolas had heard her talking about a probable cure and was already looking in her direction when she came to him.

Legolas tensed as the salve was spread thickly onto his unbearably burning skin, the cold temperature being a little shocking at first. Then a wonderful cooling feeling spread over every inch of the large raw bump, instantly numbing the fire-like burn of the sting.

Legolas sagged in relief against his father.

Thranduil exhaled deeply when he felt the tension leave his son and the tears all but stop. He dried the last remnants of tears with his own hand, frowning at the slight redness and swelling of his eyes.

The healer stood up and spoke to Thranduil. "The herbs will draw out the venom, but it will take time." She handed her king an air proof container filled with the salve and gave him instruction. "Apply another thick coat whenever the pain returns and keep doing this until the red bump shrinks to its normal size. If complications arise or the pain returns with greater intensity than the herbs can handle, I want you to bring him back and we will figure out what to do from there."

Thranduil nodded and accepted the item gratefully. "Thank you."

The healer saw the thoughts and emotions conveyed wordlessly to her in his expression, and nodded, smiling softly before she vanished into the many halls of the healing ward.

Thranduil turned his attention back to his son, who was stubbornly trying to stay awake but failing miserably. He spoke gently, his voice warm. "Allow your body to rest, ion-nin so it can heal. I have you…"

A weary sigh escaped his son's lips and then his eyes closed, body going limp in his arms.

~LOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTRLOTR~

"Legolas, there is nothing to be frightened of."

"They hurt!"

"They do not sting unless threatened. What happened to you would not have happened if you had not tried to touch it," Thranduil reasoned.

"I wanted to see if it felt fuzzy," Legolas replied, his voice slightly muffled.

"I know that you didn't mean any harm Legolas, but the bee did not." Thranduil lifted up the part of his robe his son was hiding under. "I brought you here to face your fear, not to spend your time under the cover of my robe!"

When Legolas didn't respond, Thranduil tried a different approach. "The bee that stung you is gone. It will never return."

"How do you know?"

Thranduil pressed his lips into a thin line, not looking forward to what he would say. But Legolas needed to know. "Well, when certain bees sting, they can only do so once. Then they perish."

Legolas peeked out from under the robe, his bottom lip quivering. "They die?"

"Yes, Legolas." Thranduil opened his arms and Legolas fell into them.

"I didn't mean to kill it… I only wanted to touch it!"

"I know, ion-nin. It is alright. These things happen sometimes," Thranduil said reassuringly, rocking his son back and forth until the tears stopped.

What may have been the worst timing, a bee suddenly flew past the prince's head.

Legolas screamed and dove for cover under the robe again.

Thranduil silently cursed. Just when things were going his way that bee had to ruin everything! Thranduil looked over at the red lump and sighed. There must be some way to quell his fear.

Just then, a small bee hovered over to a flower near them and settled down onto it. Thranduil watched it absently and then reached out his hand for the bee to climb onto. It did so without much hesitation, crawling around on his palm to asses its surroundings. The Elvenking smiled brightly as an idea came to him.

"Legolas." Thranduil tapped his son's shoulder. "Look."

Legolas peeked his head out and immediately panicked when he saw the bee. "No, Ada don't! It will hurt you," he pleaded, hoping his father would put the bee down.

"No, watch.."

Legolas watched the bee moving around on his father's palm. The bee did look less threatening, but the moment he saw its stinger he hide under the robe again.

Thranduil huffed, feeling frustrated that nothing was helping his son's fear. It wasn't as if he had just gotten stung yesterday, it had been a whole month since it happened. Plenty of time for both body and mind to heal. Or so he thought…

"Legolas, you are an elf," Thranduil began. "You will live in the woods, or at least near trees your entire life. We are not perfect. We have fears. But a fear of a part of nature will hinder you forever. We give back to nature, just as it gives back to us. Every bird, tree, animal, and insect. Fire, Air, Water, and Earth. We give of our energy just by being near them because close proximity to our inner-light is enough to help keep them pure and untainted. In return we receive bountiful crops and clean air to breath." Thranduil gestured to the vast forest around them. "And we are graciously shielded from our enemies."

Thranduil tried a different approach when his son continued not to make a sound. "Legolas, do you know why this bee has not flown away?"

"No," the elfling replied in a muffled voice.

"It is because it is calmed." Thranduil increased his inner light, and sure enough, the bee settled down and swiftly fell asleep.

Thranduil smiled softly and a few moments later grinned happily as the perfect—this time it was going to be successful—idea came to him on how to help his son. He tapped his son's shoulder once more. "Legolas, you will want to see this."

His curiosity piqued, but still afraid of the bee, Legolas lifted the robe just enough so he had a slit to see through. When he saw the bee… sleeping in his father's hand, he could not believe his eyes. Did bees even sleep? Surely they must need to after all the flying they do, right?"

Legolas decided that he needed a better look to make sure, and threw off the robe completely.

"It's sleeping!" Legolas clapped his hand over his mouth and then whispered. "It's sleeping." He watched the steady rise and fall of its little body and smiled gently.

"Can I hold it?"

Thranduil was stock still for a moment, unsure that he heard the words correctly, but the look of awe on his son's face told all. He gently transferred the bee into his son's open hand; which was now glowing slightly more than it was earlier.

Through all this the bee stayed still, deeply asleep in the peaceful presence of the two elves. Legolas watched the bee sleeping on his palm with an awed look on his face the entire time, and Thranduil was content to watch him, secretly beaming inside that his son had conquered his fear. After about ten minutes or so, Thranduil knew that they could not let the bee sleep any longer.

"I believe it is time that the bee awakens," Thranduil said. "We should not keep it from its daily tasks anymore."

Legolas nodded in agreement and internalized his glow without even being asked, the light around him dimming. The bee soon twitched in his hand and stretched its legs- a little wobbly at first- as it slowly stood up.

Legolas suddenly gasped.

Thranduil placed his hand on his shoulder to ground him, expecting his son to do something rash in his state of alarm. "Be still," he said firmly. "It will not harm you."

"I know," Legolas replied, and to Thranduil's relief and surprise, he giggled. "The legs tickle."

The Elvenking released his son's shoulder, and smiled, both amused and relieved as he watched the bee walking around on his hand.

Then, apparently now satisfied that they were not flowers, the bee fluttered its wings and took flight, landing on a flower close to them.

Legolas plopped down on his stomach and propped his head up with his hands to watch the bee pollinate. Behind him, Thranduil was leaning against the bough with his eyes closed, a smile playing on his lips.

~THE END

Authors note: I hope that this short story was enough to tie you over until I can finish Whisper of Agony. It is also my hope that it was a pleasant change from the angst in that story.