Hi everyone!

Thank you all so much for your patience and sticking with me all this time! I honestly can't believe I'm already on chapter 6 and still have a ways to go...this was originally supposed a oneshot, guys *laughs* ^_^

I promise there's more action planned for later, and more Thranduil-centric chapters to come.

So, as a result of Limbairedhiel's gracious suggestion, I'm going to reply to guest reviews here and answer any questions so everyone is able to get the answers ^_^ If you would like me to respond to everyone's review here, then you're welcome to tell me and I can try to do that.

Replies

WoodElfJedi: Since I can't PM you, I'll just tell you how amazing you are right here. ^_^ First, sorry for all my cliffys LOL. But without cliffys there's no suspense and stuff ^^ and good news, this chapter doesn't end in a cliffy! Second, thank you so so so so so so much for your constant support! You are absolutely amazingly, generously kind! I hope we can get to know each other better in the future and be friends ^_^. Third, I am so ridiculously happy that you're liking my story so much! I feel honored to have you as a reader! And don't worry, I'll definitely finish this story even if you end up the only one left reading *laughs*. Thank you so much for your lovely words that you give me every. single. time! I feel like I don't deserve your praise ^_^ Honestly, mellon nin, I cannot stress how much your kindness means to me! Thank you, hannon le, 谢谢, arigatou gozaimasu, dolzekh menu, merci, mahalo, gracias, diolch, grazie! ^U^

Answers

Limbairedhiel asked about the pronunciation of Celeberyn and how we envision Thranduil in this story:
So I believe Celeberyn is pronounced ke-LEB-eh-rin, if any of you are elvish experts, feel free to correct me! As for Thranduil, I've always envisioned him not as cold/menacing or eerie, and more kind/warm, stubborn yet determined, and very loving. All the good stuff, basically, since I am in love with him 3 ^_^

So that's all for reviews and questions...now on to the story!

Enjoy!

Helluin felt like a squirrel, leaping from tree to tree in a mad dash for the palace. The only thing missing was a large bushy tail, which the warrior thankfully didn't have. He felt like he should hold a few nuts in his hands, but then decided against it. It might hinder his speed.

The sound of growling orcs drew closer and closer, stomping and clashing through the forest, smothering their foul presence all over the place. The sound would scare away any living thing within miles, not to mention the stench. The smell could choke a pile of inanimate trash.

Helluin clenched his teeth and unsheathed a long knife as he continued to run. He skittered underneath branches and treaded on twigs that should have snapped under a human but supported his elven weight effortlessly.

The warrior scanned the trees and saw the orc pack in all its dark glory, smashing through the forest and causing Helluin to almost lose his balance in disgust. He turned back to his run but then something happened that had never happened before.

He stumbled.

Helluin's body was beyond exhaustion and finally gave up, much to his absolute horror. His feet slipped on a branch and he tumbled out of the trees, landing on the ground with a hard thud, unable even to soften his landing. He had been running nonstop for days, and tried to take frequent breaks and rest since he knew that all the running, fighting, and emotional pain would eventually pile up and consume him. Like it did now.

The orcs, which had gotten revoltingly close to Helluin, turned towards the sound of the elf falling from the tree in surprise, then cackled at the sight of him sprawled on the ground. The creatures immediately ran towards him, relishing the thought of destroying another elf.

Get up, stupid feet! Helluin yelled mentally. Get up! Get up! I cannot die! The warrior dragged himself up, his legs shaking from exhaustion. Oh Valar….why…. Determination flashed in his eyes as he unsheathed his other knife so he yielded one in each hand. You got this, Helluin. You can defeat them, no problem. The warrior tried to ignore his trembling hands and instead forced his attention on the orcs.

As the first approached, Helluin spun into battle. He had no shortage of skill when it came to fighting, but he was definitely lacking in experience of fighting while exhausted. Exhaustion was strange, and something the warrior had never really experienced before, at least not to the point of dropping.

But that's exactly what happened.

For as Helluin sliced an orc head off a pair of shoulders, his knees suddenly buckled without warning and he collapsed to the ground. NO! Get up! The warrior panted heavily but he just could not force himself to stand, no matter how hard he tried. No. Please, no. I have to get back to the palace….

The orcs sneered and brought their swords down on him, but at the last second, Helluin managed to dodge and to his great relief, his feet shakily leapt back up. Good job. I may keep you after all, Helluin thought. However, the warrior's steel determination wasn't enough to keep him up for long.

He gracefully danced his waltz of death as his knives flashed dangerously like deadly stars, the orcs no match even for an exhausted Mirkwood soldier. But the warrior knew he finally reached his limit. He stumbled, which proved to be a fatal mistake, as an orc took the split second to stab him deep in the side.

Helluin gasped and killed the creature swiftly, but the damage was done. He staggered, blood soaking through his clothes and streaming to the ground in a dark red puddle. No. Valar no. Seeing their chance, the orcs attacked and Helluin's eyes widened in shock as three swords plunged into his back. Blood dripped from his mouth but he forced his body to turn and slice the creatures' throats, who were all conveniently lined up in a row. Helluin paused, gasping and trying to push the agony to the back of his brain. He looked up and forced himself to laugh despite his condition, which made for quite a sight and honestly scared the orcs.

"You dare to cross Mirkwood?" Helluin sneered. "This is your fate. If even an exhausted inexperienced warrior like me can defeat you, then you have no chance of ever taking our kingdom. We don't die so easily, you dogs. Go crawl back into your little caves and hide from the light. For as long as we live, there will never be a place in the world for you." Helluin gathered every last thread of strength in his body and desperately engaged the rest of the orcs, who had all been slightly unnerved.

The orcs stood no chance.

Before long, Helluin was standing alone among a blood soaked ground littered with dead corpses. The air hung thickly with the scent of metallic blood and seemed heavy with silence, pierced only with the harsh panting of Helluin.

He collapsed to the ground and lay there, staring up at the sky with glazed gray eyes. His blood stained lips tilted up into a little smile as he gazed at the clouds moving lazily through the blue sky as if nothing had happened. I have protected Mirkwood….one last time. The warrior was fading quickly, but as his mind slowly started losing all thoughts, he was suddenly filled with paralyzing fear as he realized something. The king and the crown prince! No….I have to get the message to them.

Even though he would rather just lie still and fall asleep, Helluin dragged himself up to a kneeling position and ripped off a piece of his sleeve, spreading it out on the grass. He dipped his finger in a pool of his own blood and started scrawling a message.

But the warrior barely started before his exhaustion and injuries refused to let him live even a second longer. Helluin fell forward as his vision dimmed rapidly, and the elf's world plunged into darkness. He lay still on the grass, his consciousness lingering for a split second, allowing only one thought. I'm sorry, my king. I'm sorry….please….someone find me…. And then his soul fled.

Thoronbel had been expecting a pack of orcs. His sword was itching in its sheath to kill anything that might be a threat to Mirkwood. What he didn't expect was finding Helluin dead on the ground with a whole pile of the creatures collapsed around him and blood soaking into the dirt.

The captain of the king's guard had ordered the Mirkwood army to disperse into the towns and take care of the orc problem that Argeleb had informed them about a few days ago. Most places had now been reported clean of the disgusting creatures, but Thoronbel with his small patrol personally skirted around the kingdom a last time to finish off any lingering orcs.

As for the state of the kingdom, repair was rapidly going on everywhere in Mirkwood, especially at the palace which had gotten destroyed by the dragons. Thoronbel constantly waited for good news of his king's condition, but so far, the answer was always the same – "my lord is still unconscious."

There was one other thing. Prince Legolas' death.

The entire kingdom was launched into deep mourning as if a giant cloud of sorrow made it its mission to settle over the land. Most elves were silent all the time, their movements automatic as they grieved the passing of their beloved little prince.

Thoronbel, cursing himself for not being able to protect Legolas, made it his personal mission to clean Mirkwood of all orcs.

And that's how he came across Helluin's body, facedown on the grass with a large pool of blood surrounding him. Thoronbel immediately dismounted his horse and knelt next to the warrior in alarm, gesturing for the rest of his patrol to keep watch and look for any more orcs nearby. Thoronbel knew that Helluin had been sent to protect prince Legolas, so seeing him fallen, alone, was alarming.

Before the captain even touched Helluin, he knew he was beyond saving. Muttering a curse to all dark creatures , Thoronbel gently turned Helluin on his back and looked into the warrior's dim eyes with sorrow. Helluin's hand was still slightly warm, and Thoronbel screamed at himself for not reaching him in time.

"I'm sorry, brother. We came too late." He whispered.

Thoronbel clenched his fist and slowly lifted his head, looking around at all the dead orcs sprawled on the grass. The captain smiled sadly and glanced back down at Helluin's empty gray eyes. "You did good, though. You did good."

Thoronbel kissed the warrior's forehead and as he was setting him down, he noticed something in the grass. It was a piece of cloth torn from Helluin's sleeve, but what drew Thoronbel's attention was the writing on it in blood. He picked it up, eyes widening at the figures. Three words were hastily scrawled in red, followed by a streak as if the writer had fallen before he finished his thought: "My lord Legolas –"

Thoronbel stared at the unfinished message, his mind reeling. He quickly ordered his patrol to skirt the area and try to locate anyone else, especially prince Legolas. "What does this mean?"Thoronbel whispered to himself. "Why would Helluin be alone? Where is everyone else?" A horrible thought pierced his mind and the captain's mouth dropped open in terror, "Could it be, that they all…no….no it can't be. He was trying to write something about my prince Legolas. What could he have said? What could he have said about my lord…" Thoronbel racked his brain desperately to come up with a positive explanation, but everything he could come up with was worse then the last.

"Captain?" one of the warrior laid a hand on Thoronbel's shoulder, causing him to look up and meet concerned blue eyes.

"Have you found anything?" Thoronbel inquired hopefully.

The warrior shook his head sadly. "No. There is nothing else around this area."

"Where is this hunting house that Argeleb told us they were at?" Thoronbel muttered. "We've searched every single one…." He sighed and stood up with Helluin in his arms. "Let's return to the palace for now. You all need to rest."

After they disposed of the orc bodies, Thoronbel mounted his horse with Helluin's body and the patrol galloped back towards the halls of king Thranduil.

A few days later

Legolas giggled and stuffed some food in his cheeks as he ran back out of the hunting house with Aredhel on his heels pretending to chase him, waving his arms and calling dramatically. The elfling had recently devised some sort of game involving him trying to eat and Aredhel trying to stop him. Aredhel played along willingly since it seemed to make Legolas really happy, even though he was always taught not to run while eating. But that seemed like an irrelevant detail now.

The little prince scampered across the green grass and squealed as Sirion laughed and waited outside to "catch" him. Legolas managed to dodge all the warriors and dove back into the hunting house, plunging under the blankets on the small bed and essentially winning the game.

"Yay!" The elfling cheered. "I won again!" He giggled as Aredhel entered the room and crossed his arms in a mock pout.

"My lord, you are just too fast for me!" the warrior smiled. "You win every time!"

Legolas' grin was like the sun, splashing joy all over the place. Over the last few days the little prince's energy and bounce seemed to return, as he was convinced that Mirkwood was alright and his father was a great hero protecting everyone and would come get him very soon.

Every morning and night Legolas crouched by the front door of the hunting house, waiting for Thranduil. With Aredhel's help, the elfling had constructed a large flag made of green leaves that they attached to a long branch and stuck in front of the house. Legolas explained that he was afraid Thranduil might not be able to find them, but with the flag, his father would definitely come right away.

Legolas bounced on the bed a little, his smile fading as he jumped up and headed back outside. He plopped himself down in the grass with the tall flag in the ground next to him, and leaned his chin in his hand as he stared out into the forest.

Aredhel followed the elfling and stood a short distance away, watching him sadly. The little prince forgot a lot of things, and was often not very precise, but there was one thing he would never miss – the two slots of time that were dedicated everyday for the elfling to sit in front of the house and wait for his father. Legolas never ever forgot it.

"Ada…" Legolas complained. "I already made a flag, you must have seen it by now! It reaches super duper high! You should be able to see it from the palace! When are you going to come, Ada? Hurry…..Aredhel's okay, but I want you! Don't be mad at me, I promise the one time that I poured glue on your throne was an accident! Hurry, Ada….I don't want to be alone," he whimpered.

As Aredhel listened, the elfling then started forming a schedule of exactly what they would do when he returned home, counting the ideas on his little fingers. "So first, Ada, I'm going to eat a whole bunch! I miss the food at the palace. I know the warriors hunt and stuff and try to make good food, but you're not here so the food all tastes weird. Then me, you, an' Cel are gonna go to the forest and have a picnic! You can cook the food and we'll help you to make sure you don't mess up. Then we're gonna play 'Protect Mirkwood'. An' then…we'll play 'Catch the leaf' and 'What cloud is that?'. Then we can go fishing! An' then we can play in the river. Then when it's super duper late at night we can watch the stars. An' then go back home and play some more. No bath though! Then you can tell me five stories, and make sure you act them out like you usually do!"

Legolas giggled and nodded. "Yeah! And make sure you finish your work early so we can play all day! Oh and also, you have to sleep with me so I don't get nightmares, okay?"

The elfling sighed and stared into the distance. "Come on, Ada…" he begged. "Please…hurry."

Aredhel turned and headed back into the small hunting house, not trusting himself to listen anymore without bawling. This happened twice everyday, with Legolas talking to his father sometimes about his day or a funny story, and sometimes planning what they'd do once he returned to the palace.

The warrior sat down on the bed and placed his head in his hands. Two of the warriors that was with Aredhel - Aphadon and Gurthang, had gone hunting, while Sirion sat at the tiny table in the kitchen eating. The elves had been in the hunting house for a week, with no news on the state of the kingdom.

Aredhel had sent Helluin back to the palace a few days ago, and if he had reached safely, he should be back here by now. Aredhel feared the worst, but forced himself to grasp onto a little flame of hope that perhaps Helluin was on his way, and brought good news with him. He refused to let any of the remaining warriors leave, for protecting Legolas was still the top priority and he didn't know if they'd be attacked again.

There were times when Aredhel wanted to just curl up and cry for his king, for he had no idea what his current condition was. The hunting house they were occupying was extremely isolated and difficult to find. He doubted that anyone would stumble upon it on accident, which was extremely unfortunate. They had no way of receiving news or updates on the state of Mirkwood.

Aredhel lifted his head and looked through the open door at Legolas sitting in the grass, speaking to his father as if king Thranduil was right in front of him. He clenched a fistful of bedsheet in his hand as his heart constricted in pain.

Legolas stared at the trees, on the verge of tears. "Please, Ada," he begged. "Please….I know bad things are happening, but come get me! I can make you feel better! And be careful….I know something bad happened to you, because you always tell me to be careful with fire, but then I saw…." Legolas shook his head vigorously, trying to push away the images in his mind. "Ada, you won't forget, right? Please….come soon! Hurry, please! Ada…..I want to see you…."

Thoronbel was forced to take charge of the kingdom, with the help of Galion. Their king was still unconscious, his life teetering on the verge of death. The healers tried everything in their power to heal him, but it was the king's heart that worried them. It was broken beyond repair.

So Thoronbel agreed to take care of matters concerning the kingdom for now, even though he hated it and desperately wished that Thranduil would be alright. He disliked how taking control of Mirkwood seemed to indicate that the king was gone.

The crown prince?

Celeberyn constantly sat by his father's bed, refusing to leave. He was locked deep in his own world of grief and pain, and no one, not even Elfaron, could pull him out. His state of mind was so weak it couldn't be trusted.

The entire kingdom was affected by the breaking of the royal family. Mirkwood was deeply mourning prince Legolas, but the mood was even worse towards their king. The forest seemed to be holding its breath as a cold darkness swept through the streets and halls of king Thranduil, plunging everyone into a grievous mood. The suspense was killing as everyone prayed for good news on Thranduil's condition.

An extreme hatred for dragons and orcs developed in the kingdom in the blink of an eye, reaching deeper then the ocean and higher then the stars. Hatred that was even more intense then before. Hatred so much that Middle Earth couldn't contain it all. If Mirkwood was considered dangerous before, it was now nearly unapproachable. The elves grew extremely distrustful of strangers and any creatures besides themselves.

Warriors trained day and night, refusing rest, honing their skills sharp as the quickest blade. New warriors were added to the army daily, and others emerged as ridiculously skilled fighters, accuracy and speed so fast that it was deemed amazement even for elves.

Tacticians pored over old battle formations and strategies, determined that in the next war, Mirkwood would be crowned victorious in no time. The healers spent all free moments studying more medicines then they'd ever seen before, promising that Thranduil would recover and that in the future healing wouldn't be a problem.

Border patrols were doubled, even tripled, ensuring that nothing crossed into Mirkwood without consent. A massive amount of repair was going on around all over the kingdom, among the trees, in the villages, and in the palace, as architects discussed how to build stronger structures.

Within every elf's eyes were looks of fierce determination and loyalty that was unmatchable. The kingdom would never be attacked this way again, and their king would never be injured so again.

In merely several short days, Mirkwood had become deadlier then an army of dragons.

At the center of the treacherous kingdom laid one elvenking Thranduil, who was so beloved that everything was done in order to protect and honor him.

Celeberyn had been sitting by his father's side for days, unmoving. He knew that Thoronbel and Galion would take care of the kingdom, and to be honest, he didn't trust himself to make the right decisions with his current state of mind. So he just pushed those matters to the back of his mind and instead focused his attention to Thranduil.

It was one of only two things he could focus on. His father and his brother.

Celeberyn still held onto a tiny spark of hope that Legolas could still be alive. The warriors couldn't find a body, so the crown prince allowed himself that much assurance. The hope was quickly fading though, with the discovery of Helluin's body a few days ago.

He was alone in the forest surrounded by a pile of dead orcs, but what tore at Celeberyn was the message the warrior had written in blood. Only three words – My lord Legolas.

There were a hundred scenarios that could have prompted Helluin to start that message, but none fanned the hope that Legolas was still alive.

Not only was Legolas most likely gone, but Thranduil had been unresponsive ever since. He was lying on a bed in the healing rooms with the entire left side of his body heavily bandaged and soothed with medicines that the healers had mixed.

Celeberyn insisted he change his father's bandages himself, and always cringed at the sight of the terrible burns. He heard the healers say that the scars would most likely linger forever, something that seared pain into the crown prince's heart. He couldn't imagine his father scarred like this, for the rest of his life.

Powerless to heal Thranduil, Celeberyn resorted to constantly speaking to his father to try to reach him and bring him back to the light. Everyday he talked about memories, made plans for what they would do once Thranduil recovered, discussed proposals made by other kingdoms, and updated him on repairs around the palace. Rarely could he do this without breaking down.

And so, without knowing it, the two brothers of Mirkwood, Celeberyn and Legolas, experienced the same emotions and spoke the same words every day, on opposite sides of the kingdom. They cried for each other and for Thranduil - their king, Ada, and best friend whom they could not imagine a single day without.

One word rang out repeatedly every day that reached among the stars, a word that carried so much emotion it was powerful enough to break through darkness. A word that started at either end of Mirkwood and was directed toward the same destination - the heart of Thranduil. A word so full of pain that even the stars wept.

Ada.

WoodElfJedi - no cliffy this time, right? ^_^

Thank you all so much for reading! I'll try to update soon!

Also, if any of you have ideas or suggestions for plot twists, you are totally welcome to tell me! bettsam0731 has generously given me a plot twist idea that you all will see in later chapters ^_^

Thank you so much to everyone who reviews, follows, and favs this story! I am honored and encouraged by your support!

Thank you and hopefully we'll see the next chapter soon!