Thallion arrived at his chambers later that morning to retrieve his sword. Despite the quietness of that part of the palace, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He'd barely rested the night before, but he knew he could definitely not rest now.

The uneasiness in his gut had remained, refusing to be ignored. Though he'd been told by the queen herself that all would be well, he could not relax. He had promised to be near, and so he would be.

Once he'd picked up his sword and strapped it to his waist, he calmly made his way down the corridors toward one of the many palace exits. Thallion was only feet away from the door when he heard a familiar shout.

"Thallion, wait there!"

He turned and watched as the crown prince, Calaeron, jogged toward him. The older elf smiled at his younger brother, his light blue eyes resting on Thallion's gray.

"Where are you headed?" He pointed, frowning, to the Avar's sword resting in its sheath at his side. "We are free today, Muindor. Surely you need more rest?"

The unbridled concern on Calaeron's face made him look so much like King Thranduil that Thallion had to fight to hold in a smirk, despite the disquiet he was feeling.

Thallion often teased his brother for his striking resemblance to the King.

Calaeron and Legolas both inherited their father's white-gold hair. But while Legolas resembled Lanthir in face, eyes, and mannerism, Calaeron was the spitting image of the King. Faervere was more of a combination, with his mother's brown hair and his father's light blue eyes.

"There is nothing wrong, is there?"

Thallion smiled reassuringly at his older brother, trying not to let the worry worm its way out of his gut and onto his features. It had always been difficult for Thallion to hide much of anything from Calaeron.

"Naneth is taking Legolas into the forest today and I'm merely feeling uneasy about it. She asked me not to accompany them, though I told her that I would be close should she need me."

Calaeron nodded in understanding. Thallion tended to be rather protective of the royal family, and with good reason. He'd saved Calaeron's life on more than one occasion, and Faervere owed his life to his older brother, as well.

His worry was never for naught and should never be taken lightly. His instincts had proven useful in the past.

"All will be well, Thall. But if you feel you should be near, then please do," the prince rested a hand on Thallion's shoulder as he smiled softly. "And do send word if you need aid. I can have a patrol on stand-by."

Thallion shook his head.

"I am sure it won't come to that, Muindor," he smiled back in reply. "But I will send for help should I need it."

Calaeron nodded seriously before the two parted. The prince turned back the way he came, most-likely to sit in on yet another council session, while Thallion pushed open the palace doors and stepped outside.

It was a beautiful day, full of sunshine and chattering birds. The slightest of breezes tickled his pale cheeks. It was the perfect day for a walk, maybe all would be well after all.

He strolled away from the palace and beyond the walls, coming to rest at the very edge of the forest. Thallion could see the path the queen and prince had set out on only minutes earlier. It was not shadowed, and looked no more deadly than the paths through the palace grounds.

"I need your assistance, Mellon."

He leaned against a young fir tree, offering direct contact to the tree for its own comfort. Being an Avar, he had much the same connection to the trees as the Wood Elves, easily able to converse with them as he pleased.

"Yes? Yes! How can I help?"

The tree was eager and far happier than those deeper in the forest, where the shadow had crept up and leeched into their roots.

"Queen Lanthir and Prince Legolas are along this path," he sighed. "Would you ask your friends to keep watch over them and send warning if they encounter any danger?"

"Yes! The path has grown dark," the tree suddenly seemed older than its years. "I will ask and we will gladly watch them."

Thallion thanked the tree and then settled in the grass beneath it, closing his eyes and resting his back against its trunk. He could feel its pride and happiness at having been chosen for such a simple task.

All Thallion could do now was wait and hope that all would be well.

"It waved at me, Nana!"

A small hand pointed at the sparrow that now flew over the heads of Queen Lanthir and Prince Legolas. He looked back at his mother and beamed, earning a loving smile in return. Nothing made the queen more pleased than the unending delight of her little elfling. Just his smile seemed to erase the sadness from her heart.

"It did, Penneth, it was happy to see you."

The elfling ran around touching flowers and giggling at birds. Lanthir loved the pure joy coming from her son, as it nearly made her forget about the darkness choking her forest.

She looked up to see Legolas pressing his hands against an old oak tree, scrunching his face in concentration.

"When will I hear the trees, Nana?"

Adult wood elves could converse easily with trees, bearing a close link with the nature around them. It was a gift from the Valar that was deeply cherished. It took many centuries to master the skill, and elves Legolas' age simply were not old enough to understand the trees.

For Legolas, the language of trees was a gentle mutter, undefined and incoherent to young ears. The prince had long been jealous of older elves' ability to speak to the trees and had begged all who would listen to teach him, much to their amusement.

"Soon enough, little one."

It was clear that her answer wasn't good enough for the elfling when he pouted with impatience.

"What does this one say?"

Lanthir smiled and approached her son, resting her hand over his against the old oak so she could listen closer to its quiet voice.

"Ahh," the oak sighed. "Tithen Lanthir, my little waterfall, it has been so long! And the young Greenleaf! It is so good to see you. You do not visit as you once did. Shame!"

Legolas giggled at the excited rumbling coming from the tree, and he longed to know what it was saying.

"I am sorry, old friend," she answered the oak first. "The forest has grown dark, it is no longer safe."

She didn't have to say anything more to the tree, for she knew he would understand. His roots grew deep, remembering the light of Greenwood the Great before the shadows descended upon it.

"He is happy to see us, ion nin," she looked into Legolas' happy face. "He hopes we'll visit again and he can't wait until you're old enough to speak with him."

Legolas beamed and then hugged the tree as tightly as his little arms could accomplish, not aware of the half-truth his mother gave him.

Lanthir looked around at her forest, trying to picture the way the sun used to filter through the trees and rest on large, blooming flowers. Or how the birds would wait on branches and speak to all who would pass. She could hardly remember the peace that used to dwell in the forest, like it had when she was much younger.

It had been many centuries since the forest was a true, vibrant green. Leaves grew thinner now, and the trees were becoming tired and sad. Trees like the lonely Old Oak, who had once been able to stretch his limbs out wide and soak up the rays. When Lanthir was an elfling, the Oak had been healthier, and so had the rest of the forest.

Now, the forest was quiet and dark. To children like Legolas, it was lively. For they had never seen it as it once was.

And they probably never would.

Lanthir turned to Legolas to tell him they would need to be heading back, only for her to realize she couldn't see him. Where had he gone?

"Legolas?"

The Queen's heart began beating faster as different scenarios began running through her mind. Orcs. Spiders. Wolves and wargs. Sink holes large enough to swallow a child.

He was nowhere to be found.

Lanthir pressed her hand against the Old Oak's rough bark.

"Have you seen my son?"

She was growing more frantic with each passing second.

"Little Greenleaf was distracted," the tree answered. If it had a face, it would be frowning. "He has wandered off the path, toward the south. You cannot go by yourself, it is too dangerous."

Her heart nearly stuttered to a stop. It was always the south. The largest orc packs were to the south, as were the thicker spider's nests. It was in the south that Calaeron had nearly been killed on patrol and where Thallion had paid the price and was almost lost to them forever. It was the south which had claimed many seasoned warriors.

And now, her little elfling was headed south.

"Ai, Elbereth."

Gray eyes snapped open at the first shout from the trees. Something was wrong, and every tree was beginning to call out in concern.

"Dark one!" The young fir tree spoke, after word had spread through the forest. "The little Greenleaf has strayed from the path. Waterfall can't find him!"

The tree swayed as though there were a strong breeze. Thallion felt his heart thump furiously in worry. If Legolas had stepped off the path, where had he gone? And was the Queen safe?

"Can the trees see him?"

"Yes, but he is not safe. The lady cannot follow him, you must hurry!"

"Make sure word gets to Prince Calaeron!"

With that, he began running down the path as quickly as his long legs could take him. Branches lifted above his head and roots ducked away from his feet. The Queen and her son hadn't gone too deep into the forest, and he would reach them soon.

He burst through the trees right where the old oak lived. Thallion was breathing heavily and had to take a moment to close his eyes and listen to the trees. Where should he go next?

"Just there," the old oak swayed to one side, drawing Thallion's attention to the trampled plants left behind by a frantic mother. The elf quickly thanked the tree and ran off the path, following the broken twigs and stepped-on leaves. The queen was usually too graceful to ever leave a trail, but fear could do many things to an elf.

It was only moments later that he spotted the queen. Her dark hair had come loose from its long plait and her light blue gown was ripped at the bottom. She was tearing through the forest in a state of pure fear, all semblance of ration leaving her.

"Thallion! He is heading south, we must find him before it's too late!"

She ran forward and grabbed both his forearms. He could feel her trembling, trying to hold her composure.

"You must go for help, my queen," Thallion sighed. He knew Lanthir would not likely take this well. "This forest is too dangerous for you."

"I cannot leave my child, Thallion!"

The queen's fear was so thick, the Avar could have parted it with his sword. He did not intend to diminish Lanthir's worry, but he knew in his heart that he was not enough to protect both the queen and the youngest prince, and Thallion could not bear to lose another family member.

"My Lady, it is too dangerous."

Anger blazed in her eyes, wrathful and beautiful all at once, despite the firmness of Thallion's tone. She was a warrior when any of her children were threatened, but that would not help the situation.

"Naneth!"

He let the word hang in the air long enough for it to sink in and gain her attention. He didn't always address her in such a way, so it was enough to set her mind back into the here and now, right where he needed her.

"Please," he continued, now that he knew she would listen. "I cannot protect both of you from the dangers of this forest. Go for help, Naneth. Calaeron is not far, he will send a patrol."

Finally, Lanthir saw the logic in his reasoning and the pain in his dark gray eyes. Though she was afraid, she would trust him to save her child. As long as he could trusther to bring them aid.

"May the Valar be with you, Penneth," she whispered. "With both of you."

He could only nod in return as he watched her turn and flee toward the palace and the help that awaited, despite what every one of her instincts were probably telling her. Thallion then closed his eyes and again focused on the trees, listening to their frantic voices.

"Forward," one begged.

"Not far now," another explained.

He strained his ears, trying to focus on individual trees instead of the cacophony of their combined voices.

"Danger," more than one warned.

He shook his head, shifting his focus from the trees to the surrounding forest, trying to listen to the nature itself to gain further clues. Children were not as silent as their adult counterparts, they did not possess the usual stealth of older elves and so were easier to track.

Sure enough, he heard the rustling of small feet not too far from his location. Though he was relieved that he knew where Legolas was, the foreboding knot in his gut twisted viciously the closer he got to the child.

"Be swift!"

Thallion could not drown out every tree as they shouted at him to quicken his pace and he felt his heartbeat race as he tried to ignore everything around him. Suddenly, he realized he could no longer hear the small rustling that had moments ago been his guide to the elfling. Panic raced through his veins and he clamped down on it, refusing to let it rule his senses.

Thallion's ears picked up a faint sniffling that would have gone unnoticed by any other creature but an elf. He crouched low and continued toward the noise, hoping that it would be Legolas just past the trees before him.

He emerged from the green to see the back of the small elfling's tunic and he sighed in relief. Thallion deliberately let his foot crunch against the leaves on the forest floor so as not to surprise the child.

"Nana?"

Thallion's heart constricted at the fear and uncertainty in the small child's voice as the little one turned and bright blue eyes met worried gray.

"Thall!"

His stomach dropped through his feet as his eyes rested not on the tear-stained cheeks of the lost elfling, but on the thick, white spider web weaved through the tree above the child's head. Legolas had not noticed, that much Thallion could tell.

Ai Elbereth, the child had stumbled upon a nest and not even realized the danger he was in. He was too young to truly understand the horrified, fear-laden shrieking of the trees around him. To Legolas, the trees simply sounded overly restless.

Thallion could scarcely ignore their shouts.

"Legolas, Penneth, come this way."

He held out his arms, even as his hand twitched toward the sword at his side. He would not frighten the child further by drawing it, but he would be poised and ready should he need it.

Suddenly, without warning, the trees were silenced. The gnawing fear in the center of Thallion's body washed over him—cutting off all pretense of calmness as he immediately drew his sword and threw himself at the elfling.

Somehow, he'd acted just in time. As his left hand closed over Legolas' wrist and pulled him behind his bigger frame, one of the largest Great Spiders Thallion had ever seen flew out from the trees.

Seeing the determined elf draw his sword had frightened Legolas, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the spider. Never had he seen one of the much-feared Spiders of Mirkwood—he'd only ever encountered the small house spiders that occasionally crawled on the palace walls and across the floors.

Legolas now decided that he would never be afraid of a house spider again. They were cute and cuddly compared to what Thallion held his sword against.

It was larger than a full-grown elf, with hundreds of menacingly glittering eyes focusing on the easy prey cowering behind Thallion. Its legs were longer than Legolas was tall and it hissed in anger at the interruption.

"Stay behind me, Legolas," Thallion drew himself to his full height and stood before the creature, brandishing his sword with confidence, despite the fear that coursed through his veins. What if there was more than one spider? Could the trees warn him in time?

He knew it would be a challenge in speed when faced with a spider twice his size. He would be of no use to Legolas if he couldn't best the spider before any others showed up. Thallion only had one chance. He couldn't fail, for it was not just his life in the balance.

Thallion brought the long elven blade in front of his lithe body and struck quickly against the spider's attack. He was a sight to see as he drew on centuries of training in Mirkwood's army. He used his speed to hold back the spider, hoping that Legolas would stay far enough behind him for safety, but close enough for protection from any other spiders that had yet to make an appearance.

The spider's main focus was still on the tiny elfling behind his back, despite Thallion's defensive strikes at its large underbelly and long, furry legs. It threw its weight toward Legolas, trying to launch itself over Thallion to get to Legolas.

It was growing angry that it could not have its prey, and Thallion was growing tired from fending off the pursuit. Thallion knew he would have to strike offensively if he wanted to kill the spider and end the threat.

"Thall!"

He ignored the frightened elfling behind him, knowing there was still only one spider. He couldn't afford to lose his focus for even a moment.

Thallion saw an opening when the spider reared up with its front legs, preparing its stinger for its prey. He thrust his sword into the exposed underbelly of the creature, wincing at the sharp screech of pain it made.

He had only seconds to react, so he dropped his sword and turned, wrapping his long arms around Legolas and shielding the elfling with his own body as the dying spider sunk its stinger into his flesh and drove him to his knees.

Agony weaved through his bones, lighting up every nerve in his body like lightning in the night sky as it laid a demanding grip on him. His lungs clenched in painful spasms and his muscles felt as though they would fray at the slightest movement.

But he fought on.

His dark gray eyes rested on the frightened pale face in front of him, even as his vision dangerously wavered toward the blackness threatening its edges. The poisoned wound in his left shoulder throbbed with tendrils of white-hot pain. The little elfling trembling against him was his top priority, no matter the cost to himself.

He would save Legolas, even if he died trying.

Legolas was gripping Thallion's tunic tightly in two little fists, letting out small whimpers of fear. It took the older elf several moments to fight through the pain that was blurring everything around him.

At last, Thallion got control of his senses.

"Legolas, Penneth, are you okay?"

Thallion's voice sounded strained and weak, even to his own ears, but he chose to ignore it.

Legolas nodded against his brother's chest, too frightened to speak. Thallion squeezed the child gently, muttering words of comfort in Avarin, before carefully pulling the elfling's hands away from his tunic.

"We must go now, Legolas," he began to stand. "The forest is not safe."

He was discouraged by how hard it was to get himself upright, but he fought through his pain. The patrol would have gathered by now. It was only a matter of time before Calaeron and his troops were on their way.

It normally didn't take long for spider venom to induce unconsciousness and drop a full-grown elf, but he fought to keep himself awake, fearing the arrival of more spiders. He couldn't afford much hesitation. The window of peace would only last so long before it was shattered.

Thallion took a few jarring, pain-filled steps to reassure himself that he could remain standing long enough to bring the young prince to safety.

He began to slowly lead Legolas closer to the lost path, finding it harder to draw a comfortable breath. The small elfling was clearly terrified and shaken, but seemed to understand that his brother was hurt and that he must listen to everything Thallion commanded in order to make things easier.

They made it to the path near the Old Oak when Thallion's knees gave out the first time.

He gasped in pain as his knees crashed to the forest floor. He could feel the hot wetness of his blood soaking through not just the back of his tunic, but the front as well. The spider's stinger must have passed straight through the elf and pierced both sides.

"Thall?"

Legolas sniffled, his fingers gripping tightly onto Thallion's right arm.

Thallion squeezed his eyes shut, focusing intently on the rapid, fearful breathing of the elfling beside him. This was all for Legolas, he reminded himself, breathing through waves of agony. He was fighting every moment for Legolas and he would not fail him.

"You must stand, Dark One," the Oak encouraged. "Greenleaf needs you."

"Yes," Thallion muttered under his breath, forcing himself to his feet and dragging an astonished Legolas—whose fingers were still tightly gripping his arm—alongside him.

He placed each foot in front of the last, begging his body to cooperate.

The trees slid their roots out of the way, seemingly aware of the fact that the wounded elf could not pay enough attention to his own feet. Legolas continued to sniffle, afraid of every noise around him.

They made it a little further down the path. Legolas kept darting his wide eyes all around, still gripped by fear and terrified of seeing another spider.

"It will be all right, Tithen Muindor," Thallion's voice was very weak, but he knew Legolas needed the comfort. "Calaeron is on his way."

Thallion stumbled once more and was on the ground again before he even realized he was falling. Legolas cried out in surprise, burying his face into Thallion's right shoulder and pushing his small body against his brother's in the desperate hope of keeping him upright.

Thallion wavered, hardly able to recognize his own surroundings, much less remain conscious. The pain was great, stealing his breath and causing darkness to creep into the edges of his vision.

"Please, Thall," Legolas begged. "Please, I'm scared."

It was Legolas' voice that Thallion clung to, giving him a focal point. He would not fail another brother. Not like he'd failed Pellion so long ago. Legolas had many great things ahead of him, Thallion had always known so. He had to make sure the elfling reached his destiny, whatever that may be.

He wasn't sure how he'd managed it, but Thallion found himself on his feet once again.

-FiTS