They entered the dining room together. While the table was already set, they arrived too early for lunch. Lord Glorfindel was the only one already present and he was reading a book, seated comfortably in a cosy window seat. He looked up as the wood elves arrived and put a mark in his book before setting it down.

"Good day," he greeted them with a smile as he stood up. "How was the surgery? I am surprised to see you already up and running, Penneth."

"Lord Elrond said it went all well. And I am to lie down after lunch. He has also give me something against the pain," Legolas replied. He felt how tense Eyaenne was next to him and her attitude confused him. He was well aware that his sister did not trust the Noldor and accepted it. Therefore, he smiled at Glorfindel while shaking his head slightly at the same time, apologizing for the distant tone he took.

It seemed, however, as if Glorfindel either did not care or he did not notice, for he just nodded in acknowledgement of Legolas' words and continued to speak.

"That is good to hear. Elrond is the best in his field. Hopefully, your shoulder will at least improve, if not heal completely."

"I surely do hope so," Legolas attempted to put an end to the conversation.

"You should be able to travel as soon as spring breaks, if your healing rate is any indication. Really, I wonder if all of Thranduil's children heal so quickly," Glorfindel spoke distractedly and yet, his blue eyes were keen.

"What did you say?" Legolas asked shocked. At the same time, Eyaenne pulled her weapon and stood protectively in front of Legolas. Before the youngest prince could do anything, she had lashed out and only Glorfindel's quick reflexes saved his life.

For several seconds, Legolas found himself unable to move. He knew. Glorfindel had figured it out.

"Eyaenne, stop!" Methelion bellowed, throwing himself in Eyaenne's arm.

"He knows!" The princess screamed, pushing the archer away from herself. Glorfindel now stood with his back to the window, only armed with a knife, confronted with a very angry and impulsive Thranduiliell.

"Yes, I do, but I haven't told anyone," Glorfindel spoke.

"Don't hurt him," Legolas asked at the same time. This made the female warrior hesitate. While her weapon was still pointing at the elf lord, she did not swing it anymore.

"How did you find out?" She breathed heavily.

"It wasn't too hard. I had met Penneth back in Mirkwood. He was wearing a shirt with royal stitching. We had assumed he was Alcanor's son but after we found out that wasn't true, there was only one other solution. I wasn't completely sure but Penneth reminded me of Thranduil on several occasions. He had to be his son. It took me a while, though it wasn't too hard to figure out in the end. Also, why else would he have refused to give us his name unless he expects us to know his name and make the connection. I have known for a long time."

"Does Lord Elrond know?"

"No, he does not. I never mentioned the stitching and he therefore never knew that Penneth belonged to the Royal Family of Mirkwood."

"Will you tell?" Eyaenne asked tensely, her arm shaking and her sword with it.

Glorfindel slowly lowered his knife and returned it to the scabbard at his belt. The balrog slayer straightened. His crystal blue eyes fixed the shaking princess.

"No," he replied honestly.

"What am I supposed to do?" Eyaenne asked herself.

"If you harm him, you will put all of us in danger," Methelion reminded her coldly. Eyaenne looked over to the archer she had come to trust so much. Before she could react in any way, the door opened and Lord Elrond and his family walked in.

Elrond laughed with his wife as he opened the door. Turning his head, he froze. Princess Eyaenne was threatening Glorfindel, who was backed up against one corner, with her sword, a hard look on her face. The other wood elves simply stood by.

"Princess Eyaenne! You are a guest in this house. While you stay here, you will not threaten anyone. Please lower your weapon," he demanded harshly.

Princess Eyaenne laughed madly.

Elrond could not explain Eyaenne's behaviour at all. Just what had happened?

"As if you are one to talk!" She yelled. The princess lowered her weapon though, taking a few steps back towards one of the corners.

"My brother's blood soaked the ground at this very place!" Eyaenne screamed loudly, her sword pointing toward the ground. And she was correct, Elrond realised. She was indeed standing exactly where Crown Prince Alcanor had bled onto the floor.

"Alcanor nearly lost his life here. My father nearly died in an attempt to save him. And you dare to tell me not to raise my weapon in this very place? You have brought so much pain over my family, more than you realise," she raged.

"Eyaenne," Penneth spoke gently but the princess did not hear him in her unstable condition. She seemed beyond angry. Elrond worried she might have lost her sanity altogether for there was a crazed glint in her eyes as she continued to scream bloody murder at them.

"My brother bled here!" she repeated. "I shall not allow any more of my family's blood to be spilled at this forsaken place! Enough pain has been caused here, you have given me enough cruel sights. I have had enough nightmares from the injury you caused, enough awful dreams to keep me awake at night! I will not have you betray our trust once again! You have hurt me more than anybody, you shall touch me no more! You shall not touch any of us ever again, not tithen-las, none of my brothers, not me, not my father, not a single wood elf! Your words are like glass and they cut deeply, hurt anyone who comes near you!"

"Eyaenne!" Penneth repeated harshly, attempting to get through to her.

"I have seen it! I still do! I see my brother bleeding here, I see my father struggling for him. I can hear his pleas. Do you not understand? I can hear their pleas, the shadows of words in the back of my head. And you took tithen-las, without telling us at all. Had we known right from the start, we would not have left him here on his own. You left us to rot in our pain, took away from us what is most precious. You took our hope!" The princess threw her sword away from her, hurling it against the wall. Rattling, it fell to the floor; not without leaving a deep gash in the wooden wall. It seemed as if the strain on her had been too big. Now, a dam had broken and Elrond was afraid her emotions might wash the princess away.

"Muinthel!" Penneth yelled. Sister.

Eyaenne stilled almost instantly.

Sister. Penneth had called her his sister. Elrond's head snapped over to the young warrior. Thranduil was taller and broader but Penneth has the same hair, the same eyes, the same tilt to his head and spirit on him. The crease between his brows whenever he was contemplating an issue. And of course his overly cautious, deliberate behaviour which had even reminded Elrond of Thranduil on several occasions. His sister. The young warrior they had housed for so many weeks was a Thranduillion. Knowing it now, it was obvious. So terribly obvious.

Princess Eyaenne deflated and tears were running over her cheeks all of a sudden. She was still breathing heavily but now sadness shone in her eyes.

"Oh, you bloody fool, Legolas," she muttered.

"Legolas Thranduillion," Elrond murmured disbelievingly. No wonder the elf had refused to give them his name. He must have assumed Elrond had heard about Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.

"They have not harmed a single hair on my head, muinthel," Legolas spoke gently. Sister.

"No, they cut your hair off, Legolas," Eyaenne replied, her voice an odd mixture of resignation and a mad laugh. She pressed two fingers against the base of her nose, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.

Silence crept into the room. No one seemed to dare to move. Elrond's thoughts were chasing each other. Legolas Thranduillion. How … Thranduil did not have a son named Legolas. Well, apparently he did, but Elrond had never even known of his existence.

"May I introduce myself?" Legolas turned towards them. His blue eyes shone clear and he stood strong and tall. He did look like Thranduil if you knew what to look for. He had the same pride in his posture, the same royal shine which had confused Elrond before but seemed so natural now.

"My name is Legolas Thranduillion, youngest prince of Mirkwood." Legolas bowed, his movements precise and well-practiced.

Hearing it was something different, Elrond noticed. He pulled out a seat and sat. Celebrian followed his lead, taking Elrond's hand while staring at Penneth the entire time. The twins seemed shell-shocked, though Elladan was eyeing their wood elf friend with interest and none of his usual underlying anger.

"Alcanor is gone," Eyaenne's sudden voice rang up. Legolas swirled around quicker than the eye could follow. Elrond felt how his wife squeezed his hand tightly.

"So is Iarith. I am sorry, Legolas. We failed you. We all failed you. I am sorry!" The last sentence was a desperate sob. Princess Eyaenne placed her hands flat on the table and leaned forward. Her curly hair hid her face. Her shoulder's shook. Meanwhile, Penneth stared at her with wide eyes.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head. Elrond felt himself go cold. He had known Penneth was fearing for the life of his family. Apparently, he had been right to. Why, just why was never anything working out? Crown Prince Alcanor was dead. Elrond had known as much. But apparently Princess Iarith had died as well. Had it been their sorrow that had killed them? Only now did he begin to realise just how big the strain on the female warrior had been. She'd had to snap eventually. Though this could not be good. Telling Legolas who they had lost could definitely not be good. And yet, he could not even blame the princess for her forward words as she seemed so pained by them herself and had no apparent control over them.

"You are lying," Legolas laughed weakly and yet his eyes filled with tears.

"You were gone, Legolas," Princess Eyaenne spoke as if that simple sentence explained everything. She looked up and she looked so miserable Elrond could barely recognize her.

"You were gone!" She yelled again with rage, and yet, the tears betrayed it was actually emotional pain that caused her to lash out.

"It can't be true, Eyae!"

"Two survivors arrived at the border," her voice sounded broken. "Not of your patrol. But we had send you there as well. Ada rode to war. He told her … He told Iarith to stay back. The king ordered her to stay behind! She is no warrior, tithen muindor. She never was! She was never meant to come with the rest of the army! But stubborn, little Iarith … she followed in the dead of the night. The spiders got her. They say Ada fought like a mad man. But he could not save her. He had to watch her fall in front of him. HE HAD TO SEE HER DIE!" Little brother.

"No," Legolas whispered, tears now on his face as well. "You must be wrong. You thought I was dead too, but I am not."

"We thought you were dead because we found the decayed body of a blond elf who was not only bearing your weapons but was wearing your clothing as well! We could not recognize you by your face. But Iarith … Ada saw die. He fought over her body. She was still warm when he held her in his arms. She was still recognizable when he took her away. I saw her with my own eyes, Legolas. It was our gentle precious Iarith. I am sorry, Legolas. Our sister is gone. Forever gone. She is with Nana now."

Before Elrond could jump to his feet, Legolas collapsed. Luckily, Methelion had apparently seen it coming as he caught his prince mid-fall and gently lowered him to the ground.

"Look at me!", Elrond could hear the elf order sharply. "Look! At! Me!" The elf repeated. The next moment Elrond winced as the wood elf slapped his prince across the cheek. A lot harder than Elrond himself would have done it but it seemed to show effect. The young prince was now looking at the Captain.

"They are all dead," Legolas whispered the sentence Elrond had heard him use so often. His voice was devoid of any emotion and it worried the healer.

"They are not," Methelion objected harshly. "Eyaenne is alive, Arahen and Daeros are alive, Falin is alive, your kin- … your Ada is alive. You are!" Referring to King Thranduil as 'Ada' for Legolas' sake only brought Methelion to a light stutter. The captain spoke with a confidence that proofed he had had to speak these words before. Though Elrond had heard a bit about how bad things were in Mirkwood, this captain having to use such words often enough for him to be practiced in it frightened him. How was this elf not broken? How was it that Mirkwood had not yet fallen?

The healer looked over to Princess Eyaenne but she was in no condition to help her brother. On the contrary, she struggled with her own pain. Celebrian next to him seemed to have seen it as well as she suddenly let go of his hand and hurriedly walked over to the female warrior. Without a second of hesitation, the kind she-elf drew the hurting princess into her arms. Elrond could hear Eyaenne whisper a pained 'Nana?' and he was reminded that Legolas had confused his wife with his mother before as well. He had not even known Queen Luineth had died and as he now realised it, his heart clenched.

"Don't you dare fade, my prince. Come on, you stubborn son of Thranduil, don't you dare die on me! What am I supposed to do if you do? You do realise I won't ever be able to return to Mirkwood as your Ada would lock me in his dungeons. And your sister would surely not want to marry me either if you fade now." Methelion was speaking quickly, gently carding through Legolas' short hair to keep his attention. He kept talking and at the same time raised his right arm over his head. Two quick signs seemed to tell Leathion what to do as the soldier suddenly jumped into action. The elf grabbed a goblet from the table and filled it halfway with water before adding a seemingly oily substance from a little flask he pulled out of a pocket.

"Marry my sister?" Of all the words, apparently this sentence had caught Legolas' attention. Elrond could hear Methelion chuckle.

"Ah, well, only if Prince Falin gets his way. Apparently, I am the only one able to keep up with her besides you lot. And the king seems to agree," Methelion continued speaking. He seemed satisfied to simply have the attention of the elf in his arms, preventing Legolas from going into shock.

Leathion passed the goblet to Methelion who took it without looking up and – with encouraging words – made Legolas drink it. The captain kept talking for a few more minutes and Elrond noticed he had switched into Silvan. It almost sounded as if he was singing a soft lullaby. Five minutes later, the elf pulled his prince back on his feet before directing him to sit at the table. The blue eyes looked slightly dazed as if he had been drugged. Glorfindel worriedly came closer and after one long look, Methelion allowed the balrog-slayer with a short nod to take over. The captain left his prince in Glorfindel's care and turned.

"What did you give him?" Elrond asked. Normally, giving a person something to drink as they went into shock would be a very bad idea. However, the healer had not interfered because the wood elves seemed to know exactly what they were doing and Elrond doubted they would harm their prince.

Methelion looked up.

"Manukae oil. It is not actually oil though. It prevents the body from going to shock and helps quickly if that is already the case. As far as I know, the plant only grows in Mirkwood. He will snap out of it in about an hour. Maybe two as his body is weakened. While he will still have to mourn after that, he will not fall into shock." Methelion looked over the where Celebrian was still comforting Eyaenne. His lips thinned and he stepped into their direction before he stopped. Elrond watched how the captain exchanged a silent conversation with both Leathion and Roewen who stop helplessly nearby. All three of them eventually shrugged to show they did not know what to do.

"Maybe you should talk to her," Elrond suggested. "She trusts you and she will soon realise my wife is not her mother."

Methelion looked at Elrond and the healer could not interpret his facial expression.

"Thank you, my lord, for your patience and understanding," he spoke and Elrond smiled. This elf had decided to trust them, just as his prince had done. Whether they could convince the stubborn princess, Elrond did not know.

"I want you to know, Princess Eyaenne … she is not usually … well, like that", Methelion said. He took such a serious tone that Elrond focused entirely on the wood elf and left Thranduil's children to be taken care of by Glorfindel and Celebrian.

"She may be rash but she has never been one to attack as unprovoked as she did today. However, she is able to see what happened here in the past, to literally see it. And though she tries to hide it, it affects her greatly. She sees her older brother, who she has just lost, bleed in this place. If that was not enough, she sees her baby brother, who she thought dead, getting struck down by Lord Glorfindel in your Entrance Hall only to crawl to the doors with a bleeding stomach wound."

Were she incapable of seeing all this, her attitude would be very different. I know, this does not excuse her behaviour especially towards Lord Glorfindel but please … take into consideration what she is going through before you judge her."

"I understand that she is suffering", Elrond admitted slowly, looking over to the devastate she-elf. "Her behaviour, however, is inexcusable. She attacked one of my dear friends without any reason. While I have forgiven Penneth the same, he never reached for a weapon despite his obvious fear. And unlike Penneth, Princess Eyaenne has seen proof that we do not mean to harm her or her brother or any of her friends. Legolas was all alone when he got here; frightened, in pain and alone. I do not yet know if I can forgive your princess. It will depend on her continuing attitude. So far, I am not overly impressed. Also, I will not allow her to bear weapons in my home again because I fear for my people should she react harshly once more. You are guests here and I do not condone such behaviour. Though I thank you, Captain Methelion, for telling me this. Now, you should take care of your princess."

Elrond decided to join Penneth – Legolas! He saw how Methelion was walking towards his princess and began talking to her, first in Sindarin and then no reaction came he changed back to Silvan.

Meanwhile, the healer took a seat next to Legolas' free side and looked him over.

"What have they given him?" Glorfindel asked.

"The essence of a plant which only grows in Mirkwood and apparently battles shock."

"Let's hope the Captain is right about that," Glorfindel grumbled.

"He is," Legolas spoke softly, his eyes still staring into distance.

"So your name is Legolas," Glorfindel stated. "We will get you home soon, Penneth."

Despite the medicine, a slight look of unease crossed Legolas' face.

"You don't hate me for not telling? You won't try to get my Ada to do something for you?"

"And you still are the silly wood elf I know and love," Glorfindel replied drily. "Of course we won't. Gwador, remember?"

Please review!

A big thank you to my beta Jaxzan Proditur!

Megan: That would indeed be interesting. I sorta doubt Thranduil would react all happy and smily :P I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I guess you have been waiting for this to happen for a long time

Guest#1: Thank you! I am so glad you enjoy the story! And here you go. I guess you have not been expecting this after me hiding Legolas' identity before :D

Guest#2: A bit harsh? They are downright mean to poor Elrond who is only trying to help. And this chapter did not get any better in that department. Well, maybe it did. After all, Methelion seems to understand