Title: Never Forgotten

Author: Stacee Phelps

Disclaimer: 'Lord of the Rings' belongs to New Line Cinema and J.R.R. Tolkien and I am not getting paid for writing this. This is purely for fun. Celebalda belongs to Celebdil-Galad and me, and please ask before using him. Rothinzil is Celeb's, but she lets me use him. Ancú is both of ours as well. Anders is mostly mine, but Celebdil-Galad admittedly uses him more than I do.

Author's Notes: This is a sequel to 'Anything', and I would strongly suggest reading that before this. I mention a lot from that story, and people may get confused if they don't know what's going on.

Note, when Tolkien said, Aragorn was raised in the house of Elrond, I'm going to say that Lord Elrond took the young human in when his parents were killed (I realize that in the books, Gilraen lived, but I like the idea that she died with Arathorn), and raised him as one of his own sons. This would mean that Aragorn would be like a younger brother to his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir. But, this does not necessarily mean that Arwen is like a sister to him (of course!).

Timeline: 20 years before FOTR

Spoilers: 'Celeb Gurth-Silver Death', 'Anything'

Dedication: This is for Celebdil-Galad's Birthday!

Rating: K+

Summary: It's been three months since the encounter with Freca, and the elves and ranger of Rivendell are still being effected by the evilness of the Mouth of Sauron. Legolas is still in a coma and everyone has almost given up hope. When Legolas does awaken, though, things change dramatically and may not be as they once were.

-8-

Gone was the usual peace that surrounded the elven haven of Imladris, known to the world of Men as Rivendell. Gone was the laughter that filled every nook and cranny, and gone was the hope that all would be right. Walking down the empty corridor, the eldest son of Lord Elrond Peredhil looked straight in front of him, not letting his attention waver in the slightest. He was set on his goal and he would reach it before he let anything distract him from what he was intending to do.

Three months had transpired since the events with the Mouth of Sauron and Aragorn and Legolas' wounding at the hands of the sadistic man. Many things had happened since then, but none as effectual as the catatonic state Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood was forced into. Now, the elves, and ranger, of Imladris worried around the clock of the wakening of the beloved prince.

Three months had passed, and even though he was still recovering from his own wounds, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, thought it best that he return with the rangers to their encampment. The young human could not stand watching his friend lie in state any longer, and as chieftain of the Dúnedain, it was his duty to see to the rangers. It had already been too long since he had been with them.

After his departure only minutes ago, it was left to Elladan to impart the news of Aragorn's leaving to their father. The human had not wanted to break such news to his loved foster-father, as it was Elrond who was despairing about Legolas' inability to awaken from his coma. When Freca, or the Mouth of Sauron, had broken both Aragorn and Legolas in body, it was Elrond who had attempted to heal their many wounds. It wasn't difficult with his son's, but the prince… the lord was very disappointed in himself for being unable to tend to the younger elf.

Shaking his head with his own grief at Legolas' temporary loss, Elladan Peredhil reached the door to his father's study. Rapping gently against the heavy wood, the twin waited for Lord Elrond's acknowledgement. Hearing the "enter", he opened the door and walked into the lavish, elven study.

Even though the sun was shining through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, the light reflecting off the ornate weapons and trinkets displayed around the room, there hung an obvious cloud over the extravagant beauty. There had been no laughing in here since before Aragorn had left to find Legolas on that fateful day.

Walking in further to confront his father, the raven haired elf was saddened even more as he saw the dejected looking Elrond by the window behind his mahogany desk. The elven lord's expression was set on forlorn and his self-pain permeated everything, and everyone, around him.

"Ada /father/, I have something to tell you." Elladan began softly, cautiously approaching his father. Lord Elrond turned to him with a slight smile, but then looked back down towards the waterfalls.

"He's left then?" Elladan's shock was noticeable, and Elrond gave a small chuckle.

"I knew he was leaving soon, 'Dan. Halbarad came to me about two days ago. He asked me if Estel would be well enough to travel back to the ranger camp. He wanted to make sure that Aragorn wouldn't have any relapses." Elladan nodded and stood beside Elrond, looking wistfully over the gently falling water.

"Ada, he wanted to tell you, but with everything going on, he was afraid you wouldn't let him go. He didn't want to disappoint you." The half-elf sighed and examined the high sun.

"Nothing he did could ever disappoint me." His whispered words caused Elladan to look at him again, but Elrond didn't notice his son's surprise.

"He will be a great king, Elladan, but he must first believe in himself. So many things have happened to him in such a short time, but he does not think himself strong. Estel thinks that he will be just like Isildur, and will be unable to resist the power that he will be offered." Elrond's gray eyes flickered with foresight, and he sighed.

"He blames himself for so many things that are beyond his control. He assumes responsibility for everything that goes wrong, and this situation is not helping matters. Estel still holds himself accountable for what happened to Legolas. He does not understand that Freca used them, and that Freca is the one who injured the prince. Aragorn cannot look past the fact that the Mouth of Sauron used Legolas against him." Elladan nodded in silent agreement, but put a hand to his father's shoulder.

"Ada, even if it has been months, there's still a possibility that Legolas could come out of this alive and well. He is a fighter, and his stubbornness rivals Estel's. There's no way Legolas would leave Aragorn after everything they've been through. There is no way."

Elrond smiled weakly, and looked out to the mid-afternoon climate. "I pray every day to the Valar that everything will turn out all right." He turned hopeful eyes to his son. "It worked when Estel was taken from us, why not with Legolas?"

Elladan squeezed his father's shoulder and spoke with conviction. "Everything will turn out for the best, and both Legolas and Aragorn will be all right."

-8-

Elrohir Peredhil tested his motionless friend's pulse. Finding a steady beat, the twin gently laid Legolas' hand back on the bed and wrapped the blankets firmly around his lifeless body.

Sitting heavily in the chair firmly planted on the floor, Elrohir dropped his head into his hands as he ran his fingers through his long hair. It still amazed him how his brother and friend managed to get themselves into these situations. Only Estel Elrondillon and Prince Legolas Greenleaf Thranduillon would be able to get into and out of the circumstance they'd encountered.

Admittedly, the younger twin was still stumped on how either one had survived this. And, now, Aragorn had left without thinking of his family or his still mending body.

Aragorn's wounds weren't healed yet. He still carried the wound in his stomach and the deeper of the wounds in his legs. Not to mention the wound he had suffered right before Freca had died. No, the chieftain of the Dúnedain was injured in every aspect of the word, ranging from physically to mentally. Elrohir amended his thoughts as his eyes came across Legolas once more.

The fear that propelled the ranger away from Rivendell was the same fear that everyone held in their hearts. Legolas had been unconscious for a long time, even in the timetables of the elves. Even an immortal body could not withstand the torture that Legolas' had been subjected to, and maybe, just maybe, the elf thought that he was still trapped within the confines of the hill men/ orc camp that had caused him great pain.

Maybe Legolas still being unconscious was not his body's failing, but the wood-elf's fear that he was still in danger.

Elrond had brought the thought on the twins some time ago, only telling his sons in confidence. He hadn't wanted to alarm Estel, but he had wanted to share his assumptions with people who would understand. The ancient healer had seen it many times before, where warriors would undertake great pain and not pull out of whatever situation they found themselves in. The unfortunate victims had thought it best that they remain unconscious instead of facing what they'd left.

Elrohir sat back in his chair and wiped his exhausted features. He prayed every night and every day that this wasn't the situation with the beloved prince. To forever lose Legolas would be more terrible than anything imagined and as that possibility stared them in the face, the Peredhil family was reluctant to let that future stand.

Sighing, Elrohir finally stood and gathered the bandages that lie on the dresser next to the bed. Since Legolas had fallen into this state, his wounds had not healed. Not one bit. It seemed that while the prince's mind rested, his body was not acting. None of the elf's innate healing abilities was kicking in, and so the elves tending to Legolas were forced to change his bandages every once in a while. There was usually no new blood, but it was wise to change the old dressings for new and sterile linens.

Gently pulling down the blankets, Elrohir got another look at Legolas' barely rising chest. The pale torso was swathed in dressings, but otherwise bare. Untying the bandages, Elrohir wrapped an arm around Legolas' shoulders and eased the unawares elf upwards. Unwinding the white linens, Elrohir held Legolas up one handedly and grabbed the new binding with his other. Unraveling the roll with one practiced flick of the wrist, Elrohir expertly maneuvered the bandage tight across Legolas' chest.

Laying the wood-elf back down, Elrohir went about the rest of his routine, redressing every single one of Legolas' numerous wounds.

Finally, his task finished, the young elf walked over to the bureau across the room and poured water into the basin sitting a top of it. Gently lathering soap into his palms, his mind drifted to the outside view.

Seeing the peaceful falls, the animal life, and everything to do with nature, Elrohir couldn't help but feel dismal. Everything outside the Last Homely House, and Imladris, seemed to be going on as if nothing happened.

Shaking his head as he reached for a towel, the youngest of Elrond's twins looked towards the door as he heard footsteps. Watching as the heavy door slowly opened, he was only mildly surprised as he saw his twin standing in the doorway.

Noticing the excitement shining from Elladan, Elrohir dried his hands and walked closer towards the door.

Leaning in to talk to his brother, Elladan grinned as he said, "Ro, guess what? A messenger from Lórien just arrived and Ada /father/ thinks it's from Arwen." Elrohir smiled just as big as his older brother and turned to toss the towel back on the bureau.

Getting a correspondence from their little sister was always a cause for great joy, for Arwen Undomiel resided within the Golden Wood with their grandmother, their mother's mother, Lady Galadriel. The heartbroken young elf had gone to stay with the older she-elf since Lady Celebrían had sailed to the mighty continent of Valinor following her capture and rescue from orcs.

Arwen had been deeply hurt by the leaving of her mother, and had needed reassurance and guidance from the only woman left in her family. So, Elrond had allowed his only daughter to leave Rivendell and live with her grandparents in Caras Galadon. The last time any of the Peredhils had seen the Evenstar was when she had visited and met their younger, human brother. All remembered the disaster that meeting had evoked.

Since lying eyes on her and mistakenly calling her Lúthien Tinuviel, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, had fallen in love with Elrond's daughter, and caused a rift between he and his father, as well between Elrond and Arwen. To know that Arwen Undomiel might be contacting them after the events that had occurred was refreshing.

Shaking his head in delight, Elrohir motioned to Elladan that he would be just a minute. Walking towards the bed and leaning over Legolas' unmoving figure, he whispered gently, "I'll be back, mellon nín /my friend/." That being said, Elrohir followed his brother's earlier path and walked out the door, making sure the door latched gently behind him.

-8-

Within the recesses of his mind, Legolas struggled with himself to escape the mental prison he had been held in for longer than he knew. He realized that his body would not respond to any commands he gave it, so his mind seemed to be more active than he wanted it too be.

Every once and a while, a horrible memory would overcome him, bringing the original pain in ten-folds, and he would be powerless to stop himself from reliving it.

Having heard everyone's pleas for him to awaken, it had torn at Legolas to not be able to comfort his friends as they despaired over him. Every time someone had been in to change his bandages, he had felt the movements, but not the pain. Somehow, for some reason, Legolas' sharp mind was cut off from his immobile body.

Not knowing the passing of time, the Mirkwood prince was unable to judge the amount of time that occurred between each memory attack. All he knew was that it happened every time he felt secure he wouldn't have another one.

Each time, the only warning he ever got was the scents that he had noticed during his imprisonment with Freca and Dúnhere; the smells of the trees, the fire, the blood that had run down his body, and the familiar scent of his best friend.

Now, as he thought over the changes, sounds of a whip and screams came to him, and he braced his mind, fighting with all the mental strength he knew he possessed to keep the memories from returning. However, the pain and anguish of the past overtook him quite easily…

"How did it feel to ruin the survivors' lives? How about ruining my best friend's life!" his voice did not rise, but the ferocity of his tone amazed Freca. Lunging forward with his left hand extended, the human grasped the blonde locks, and forcefully shoved Legolas' head back.

Freca looked as if he were visibly trying to restrain himself from hitting Legolas more, and after a minute of just breathing heavily and looking into the elf's eyes, he slowly relaxed and backed off a little. Straightening his black tunic and robes, he turned back to the bound elven prince.

"Only one last thing, Elf." Then, he looked to Aragorn for the last part, wanting to see the ranger's reaction to his threat. "And, the Heir of Isildur will watch every minute of it." Legolas finally allowed his emotions to show, but it was only in worry for the ranger. He knew first hand what it felt like to watch a loved one tortured, and noted with sympathy how Aragorn would be forced to watch for a second time in a row.

Watching distractedly as Aragorn lunged towards Freca, Legolas could only stare ahead in horror. From his father, he had heard about the weapon the Mouth of Sauron had displayed. It did cause a lot of damage, and people had been known to die from injuries sustained by the small weapon. It wasn't unheard of.

Hearing Aragorn's useless words, Legolas looked to the human with wistful regret. Beseeching him with his eyes to remain strong, his thoughts drifted to the mystical beings as he recognized the terror manifesting in his friend. Please, Oh Might Valar, watch over him when I cannot.'

Seeing Freca step towards him threateningly, Legolas did not even attempt to move within his captives' grasp. Not only did he not want to cause any trouble for Aragorn, but the fact remained that he was still paralyzed from the waist down, whether temporarily or not.

Coming pretty close to the human wanting to kill him, Legolas looked straight into the cold, blue eyes. You'll never intimidate me, Slime. He thought as Freca raised his fist. Perceiving where the blow would land, Legolas quickly glanced at Aragorn before the fist made contact and consciousness left him. 'Be safe, mellon nín"

-8-

The message from Lórien had been from Arwen, and she had said that she missed her family and wished to return to Imladris for a time. She also said that she had heard about Legolas and Aragorn's excursion with the Mouth of Sauron, and knew about Legolas' condition. She wished to help with the immobilized prince.

Now, two weeks later, the twins and their father were waiting anxiously to hear hoof beats to signal their sister's arrival.

Sitting rigidly in his chair, Elladan watched out of the corner of his eye as Elrohir paced up and down the Hall of Fire. Flicking his eyes back and forth, following his brother's movements, Elladan finally shook his head and spoke.

"For Valar's sake, Elrohir, no matter how many times you go up and down that floor, it won't bring her here any sooner." The younger twin paused long enough to stick his tongue out at Elladan before maintaining his nervous habit.

The thing wasn't that he was worried about whether Arwen reached Rivendell safely, but that he was afraid of how their father and sister were going to behave towards each other. No one had separated on good terms twenty or more years ago when Elrond had discovered the affair between Aragorn and Arwen, and the young she-elf had vowed that she would stick by the man she loved whether her father approved or not.

Elrohir looked back at Elladan, aroused from his musings as he heard a call from the guards stationed at the gate. Taking off before the elder twin could raise from his seat, Elrohir raced down the corridors and threw open the front doors as he saw the massive gates wide open and the group from Lórien entering.

Seeing his father at the top of the stairs, Elrohir was almost thrown forward as Elladan crashed into his back. Not even stopping to glare, the twin ran down the steps and directly to his sister's horse, yanking her, even though it appeared to be helping, from her saddle to land in his arms.

Laughing at her brother's antics, Arwen wrapped her arms around Elrohir's neck and squeezed tightly as he spun her around. Seeing Elladan behind them, she gestured for him to join them before he tackled them both to the ground.

Grinning from a top his stallion, Haldir, Marchwarden of the Golden Wood, slowly dismounted and walked past the siblings to bow to Lord Elrond Peredhil.

"Heru nín /my lord/, I have been sent by Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lórien to escort your daughter, Arwen Undomiel, to the Last Homely House. My task is complete, and I wish you every happiness as your home is blessed by all your children."

Elrond frowned marginally at the other elf's words, but nodded. "Thank you, Haldir, son of Halmir, for returning my daughter safely. It would greatly honor my house if you and your men would rest and take comfort in my home."

Haldir nodded with a smile before motioning to his men to dismount. "The honor is all ours, Lord Elrond."

Nodding to the younger elf, Elrond crossed over to his children as Elladan's mouth dropped in indignation. Apparently, either his brother or sister had sad something he thought offensive. Elrond smiled softly before clearing his throat. Immediately, all three Peredhil children turned to their father.

Arwen's smile dropped some, but she still looked directly at Elrond. In turn, Elrond could not take his eyes off her.

Even though elves did not age, Arwen appeared to have matured since he last saw her. Her beauty had increased, even though she had always been a beautiful child, and lines had graced her pale face. Her sharp blue eyes were piercing and intelligent, and her raven hair fell down her back in gorgeous waves.

Elrond was, for the first time, thinking how much Arwen looked like her mother. Even though Celebrían had been silver haired, and her features had looked more like Galadriel's, the lady of Rivendell had been a stunning woman. Arwen, and the twins, took more after Elrond's line, and in turn looked more like Lúthien, wife of Beren. His daughter had even been mistaken for her foremother on more than one occasion by various elves.

But, Arwen carried the inner strength of Galadriel's daughter, and it showed through with the way she held herself and the way she acted.

Seeing this brought tears to Elrond's eyes and he held his arms out to Arwen. Smiling even more, the dark haired she-elf moved into her father's arms and held on tightly to his waist. Enjoying the feel of Elrond's arms about her, Arwen could not remember the last time she had felt content in her father's arms.

Pulling away after a little bit, Arwen examined the faces of her father and brothers. "Where is Legolas?" Elladan looked towards the ground, the lines in his face hardening. Elrohir glanced back towards the house, and then back to Arwen, while Elrond kept looking at his daughter.

"He remains in the guest room connected to Estel's. He has not awoken in three months." Arwen gasped, and closed her eyes for a moment. She had known that something horrible had befallen her friend and beloved, but did not realize the full consequence of their injuries.

"And…Estel?" she asked quietly, not wanting to cause a stir, but needing to know.

Instead of answering right away, Elrond took her elbow and started to lead her towards the house.

"It is too nice out here to be disturbing the peace. We will talk of more serious matters after you have seen Legolas." Arwen kept pace with her father as they entered the foyer to the Last Homely House, but she also kept her flow of questions.

"Ada, is he alright? How did it happen? What happened? Please, tell me." Her pleading got to him as he stopped outside the guest room.

Glancing to his sons who had followed behind, he looked down to Arwen.

"Legolas was captured by the Mouth of Sauron, and Aragorn was given a letter to lure him into finding the prince…" it took a couple of moments, but finally, Arwen was caught up on all that had taken place three months before.

Gasping with tears in her eyes, she looked at the door leading to Legolas, looking at it as if she could see through the heavy wood to the occupant beyond.

How could this have happened? The attack on Rivendell, the kidnapping of Legolas… all by one who had caused so much pain so long ago.

"Freca is dead, though, right?" Elrond nodded.

"Rothinzil made sure of it." Arwen glanced around, as if looking for the Noldo elf.

"Where is he?" Elrond reached around her, and turned the doorknob, pushing the door open so she could see inside.

Noticing the bed right away, Arwen was stunned to see Legolas as she walked past her father. Staring at the motionless blonde, the woman had to bite back a small sob as she saw the powerful elven warrior reduced to this.

Walking right up to the bedside, the she-elf was surprised when she looked up and saw Rothinzil sitting in a chair on the other side, sound asleep with his feet propped up on the bed. Shaking her head, she sat on the edge of the bed and took Legolas' pale and cold hand.

"Oh, mellon nín, how did this happen? I know what you did for Estel, and you have no idea how grateful I am. Please, awaken so I may tell you." Not seeing any response, Arwen bowed her head and touched her forehead to the back of Legolas' hand.

"It's all right, my friend, rest, so that you may return to us when you are ready." Looking back to her family, Arwen was a tad amused when Elladan walked around to the other side of the bed and kicked Roth's feet off the bed.

Immediately, Roth jerked awake with a snort and looked around, disoriented. His eyes lighting on Arwen, he stood with a smile and walked over to her, bringing her up into a hug. Looking over her shoulder to Legolas, he shook his head.

"We keep praying and hoping, but no amount of it had brought him back."

Arwen turned her blue eyes to his hazel, and smiled reassuringly. "Legolas has pulled out of everything he's come up against, and this is no different. This should be like a walk in the garden for a seasoned fellow like him."

Roth nodded with a soft chuckle, but that faded out as he examined Legolas' passive face.

"If this is a walk through a garden, hate to see a trek up the mountain… OW!" hearing Elrohir's muttered words, Arwen turned with a sad smile as the younger twin held his arm and glared at Elladan.

"Come, let us meet Erestor and Glorfindel in the Hall of Fire for a snack. I would love to hear about other recent news from Rivendell…"

-8-

As the small group left the bedchamber of the injured prince, Legolas' mind finally began to reconnect with his body. All the senses formerly withheld from him began to make themselves known, and the prince was delighted to be able to feel and hear once more.

Unfortunately, even the pain was being known to him, as well.

But, now that his body was returning to him, Legolas' hope was reignited. He would escape his prison, and be able to regain his life.

Only, he did not foresee the problems that would soon arise in his recovery.

tbc…

So, there's the first chapter, everyone! Yippee! I'll admit, and Celeb fought on this, I kind of like Arwen in the story so far. It's different writing about a female now that I've written about the guys so long. Hoped everyone liked the first chapter, and see everyone on the second!