Disclaimer: I don't own though it maybe slightly AU

Author's Note: Just to say from the start this piece will be mainly based on my experiences with things that Legolas will go through.  To anyone else this will just be another Legolas torture story but to me it will help me come to terms with things I have to deal with in my life.  Don't flame for the sake of flaming; if you actually have something to say I will take under consideration but if you flame just because you don't like Legolas angst, then what are you doing here in the first place?

~*For Eden*~

Legolas twisted in his bed, another sleepless night for him.  The moon was a glaring orb in his eyes and he wished to put it out.  He arched his back, gripping his sheets, wishing that the pounding in his temples would go away.  He felt listless and strange; he couldn't feel anything.  His breathing became deep and labored.  It glinted in the moonlight, beckoning for him to come and take its cool hilt in his hot, sweaty palms.  Legolas knew he would regret this the next morning but that wasn't nearly enough to stop him. 

He took up the knife and held it for a minute, savoring the moment.  He was excited as sick as it was.  Legolas chose his spot carefully, a place that would not be seen.  The inside of his arm, near his elbow.  He drew a thin red line that started to well with blood shortly after.  It wasn't enough.  He had to cut again, twice more, across his first line and next to it.  It was angry looking and fierce and Legolas felt strangely proud of it.  He couldn't stop looking at it in the moonlight as he felt the puckered skin with his fingertip.  What was it that was so intoxicating about his own self-destruction that he was so addicted to it?

Legolas lay back in bed, content only for a little while.  Soon his arm started to ache and sting and the regret started to set in.  Why had he done this?  Why mar his flesh of his own free will?  He will be scarred for the rest of his life.  Legolas felt panicky.  What if someone saw?  What if someone questioned him?  He fell asleep fitfully and worried, holding his arm, turning the sheets crimson red.

~*~

"Good morning Legolas."  Legolas awoke to the voice of his father and immediately felt fear in his heart.  The bloodied sheets!  He positioned his body so that they were hidden. 

"Good morning, Father," he answered, his voice hollow. 

"Breakfast is waiting, so don't keep us waiting for you."  The minute he left, Legolas felt ashamed.  What reason did he have to feel what he did?  What right did he have to do what he does?  His father was kind, he was a prince, and he had everything while people who had nothing were able to be happy.

"They are only emotions," Legolas told himself.  "Everything is relative and if your worst moment is someone else's best, then so be it because it will still be your worst moment."  He wished he could believe his words and he repeated them like an anthem as he got dressed. 

He chose carefully, a long sleeved tunic despite the warming weather.  He could stand to be a little warm if it meant his secret would be kept such.  Legolas stole a glance at his cut once more, almost enchanted.  Feeling sick to his stomach and most certainly not in the mood for breakfast, Legolas headed to the dining rooms.

"Legolas, I was beginning to think you were tied to the bed."  Thranduil beckoned for him to sit in a chair by his.  Legolas' stomach clenched at the sight of the meat and the poached eggs.

"Meat for breakfast, Father?"

"Only the very best for my son," he said laughing.  Legolas picked a couple of grapes off of their stems and chewed carefully, his stomach tight.  He was afraid of becoming large like his father.  It disgusted him and scared him.  He would have to learn to live in such an adult world if he became one.  Instead he would be immortal to the fullest; a child forever. 

"Father, my stomach is quite upset," Legolas started hesitantly.  "Would it be okay if I were excused?"  Thranduil frowned uncertainly.

"If you aren't feeling so well then perhaps I should cancel our trip to Rivendell?"  Legolas felt guilty as he reassured his father.

"Oh no, Father, I know how much you were looking forward to this trip, to seeing Lord Elrond again.  It's just temporary, very temporary.  I'll be feeling fine soon, just right now I'd like to rest a little more."  Legolas felt himself perspiring.  He needed to be alone.  Finally he was excused and Legolas nearly sprinted for his room.  He looked the doors and fell upon the bed.  Though he was awake for only a couple of hours at most, he was exhausted. 

"Too many sleepless nights," Legolas whispered to himself.  He traced his bony ribs with one hand.  "Perhaps Rivendell will distract me.  Please let it distract me."

~*~

"Who's coming?" Estel asked, trying to keep up with his older brothers.   

"No one," teased Elrohir. 

"Come on," Estel said, knowing fully well he sounded as whiny as a child. 

"Come on," imitated Elladan.  He tousled Estel's head of curly dark hair.  "It's King Thranduil of the woodland realm and his son Legolas."

"Legolas?"  Estel frowned in thought. 

"You've never met him but we have," said Elrohir.  "He's strange.  He's so delicate and pure that it's uncanny.  But I'm sure Father will make sure you keep him occupied."

"Why?"  Estel's voice had quickly gone back to being whiny.

"Because if you were an elf, little brother, you would be just about the same age."

"Just my luck," Estel said.  "I'll have to escort around a spoiled elf prince."

"He's coming tomorrow, little brother, so get ready."  The older elves were off, laughing and joking.  Estel wished he could join them but his father, Lord Elrond, had requested for him to come to his rooms, probably to tell him to escort Legolas around.  Estel frowned at the thought. 

"Sooner he comes the sooner he'll leave," Estel muttered as he headed to Lord Elrond. 

~*~

a/n: more coming later as this is a very late hour and I will be unplugged from the computer if I am caught.  Thanks for reading~*