Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this update. Thank you for reading, and thank you for the kind and encouraging reviews. They inspire me to keep on writing!

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Smugdragonmama: I can't reply to your review because you posted as a guest, but I wanted to give you a shout-out and say thank you so much for the inspiring comments and for the kind words about my book! You made my day! I will definitely keep you posted on upcoming material, and I hope you see and enjoy this update! : )

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Decisions Gone Wrong

Legolas slept for a long while, well into the evening, he was so worn out from his ordeal. When he finally drifted back into the land of wakefulness, Galion was no longer at his side. Instead, Thranduil was sitting in the chair beside the bed, one slender hand laid gently over Legolas' hand on top of the covers. His head was bowed, and he looked so weary Legolas thought for a moment he might be sleeping. Nimbrethil appeared in front of Legolas' line of vision then, a steaming cup in hand that smelled suspiciously like the same drink Galion had tried to get him to drink earlier. Thranduil immediately raised his head and met Legolas' sleep-dazed blue eyes, his weary expression seeming to fall smoothly away and be replaced by one of joy to see his son awake.

"There you are, ion," Thranduil said gently, leaning forward and putting more pressure on Legolas' hand. "I was beginning to think you would sleep into the morrow!"

Legolas smiled sheepishly, trying to push himself up into a sitting position so that he could easier drink. Nimbrethil was instantly at his side, placing a hand behind his back to assist him. He smiled in greeting, holding the cup up to Legolas' mouth. Legolas took the cup from his hands, feeling the urge for independency all of a sudden. He was already growing weary with being hovered over—even though he was not foolish enough to think he was better by any stretch of the means. In fact, the gnawing ache in his side seemed to be a little worse. It was probably just from the stress of Astaldo's visit, then the ensuing heartfelt talk with Galion. He loyally refused to think the visit from his friends had tired him, for they had not stayed long in any case.

It did not matter. He just needed more rest. It was not worth mentioning, and would only unduly worry the poor elder elves hovering over him so valiantly. His father looked more worn than he had seen him in a long while, and, as he sneaked a glance at Nimbrethil's fair features whilst handing him back the emptied cup, even this familiar elf looked worn around the eyes. He looked around the room, not seeing Galion anywhere, and could not help but wonder if his mentor had mentioned anything to his father and Nimbrethil or not, despite saying he would not do so.

"Where did Galion go?" he finally braved asking as he looked up at his father.

"He had some duties he said he must attend to," Thranduil said, looking intently at his son. "He mentioned that your friends had visited, and that Astaldo had also paid you a visit…"

Legolas nodded slowly, trying to assess his father's mood. "That is so…"

"How did Astaldo's visit make you feel, little one?" Thranduil asked almost carefully.

Legolas flushed, then shrugged. "I felt bad for him when I found out about his sons. And I suppose it is nice to know his reasons behind his antagonism all this time. It all just seems a little sad…"

"It is sad!" Thranduil exclaimed, leaning forward. Nimbrethil took Legolas' now-empty cup and silently slipped away over to the fireplace to give them privacy. "It is most sad that none of us saw what was happening a long time ago so that we could put a stop to it!"

Legolas stared at his father. He really did not know what to say, and was feeling too worn to think overly much about the matter. He wished for a brief moment that he could just put it all behind him and pretend this was a normal convalescence. Sometimes when he was recovering from injuries, Thranduil, Nimbrethil, Galion, and his friends would visit and play games with him or read him interesting stories from their excessive supply of books in the library. Sometimes they would bring him a new book that he had never before read. The Imladris twins had gifted him with many such books over the years, so much so that he had special shelves in the library and in his room filled to the brim just with their gifts. Even Haldir of Lorien had brought him favored books—especially that one time.

But now, it was all serious discussions and stressful moments…

But there was his father, sitting there and staring at him as though hoping Legolas would say something in response.

When no response was forthcoming, Thranduil sighed and clasped both of Legolas' hands within his own larger ones. "I am sorry, Legolas, that I have been so inattentive to matters over the years. I have been too busy, I fear, and too much has been allowed to slip my notice. I hope you will someday be able to forgive me, and I hope that we can reach a better understanding of each other so that in the future you might feel that you can actually come to me and confide such matters in me. I will always help you if I can. I hope you know that."

Legolas frowned. He did not want his father to think Legolas would never confide in him, but he was still hesitant to share overly much about prior matters. He just was not certain he wanted his father to fully tackle the matter in the way that Galion had implied would be best. It could lead to stronger repercussions, and somehow, someway, Legolas had a feeling that it would only make matters worse for him and his loved ones before they got better. He managed a smile then, squeezing his father's hands.

"There is nothing to forgive, Ada. I know you have many duties as king. I have never begrudged that. I should not have been such a coward as to hide all of these problems over the years, so it is my fault as well."

"You are no coward!" cried Thranduil, face immediately reddening in anger. "Do not ever say such things, ion nin! You were a child—you are a child—and it was not your place to solve these problems."

Legolas shrugged, sighing. "I suppose, Ada," he said listlessly. "But can we please quit talking about it? It is over. It is in the past. I really do not want Astaldo to leave. He has apologized, and it is in the past, as I said. I can tell he does not really wish to leave your side, and I do not want to be the cause of more sadness… Please… let us put it behind us."

Nimbrethil stepped up, his hands filled with bandages and ointments. "A fine idea, young one," he said gently, sending an undecipherable glance at Thranduil. "This has been a most strenuous ordeal, and you are not getting nearly enough rest for an invalid. Let us move on to more cheerful topics as I look over your injuries. Such as how your Ada owes me a chess match, and how I believe I beat you last time!"

Legolas smiled in relief. "Nay," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I am quite certain I won the last match! But I was hoping you might read me a few tales from your favorite book about Lorien's animals."

Nimbrethil looked at him fondly. "I will do so," he said as he set his supplies on the nearby side table and began to unfasten Legolas' tunic. "Perhaps for now, just a light meal and stories, and later on… prepare to be defeated in battle!"

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Galion came back not long after Legolas had eaten a small meal, and he, Nimbrethil, and Thranduil spent the rest of the evening trying their best to spoil their young charge and get him to relax as much as possible.

For the most part, it worked, especially when Legolas seemed to realize that the elders were not going to push him to confide in them again. He was getting so tired of thinking about it all. He found himself wishing more and more it could just go back to the way things had been before this last bout of injuries—before Ada had discovered what had been happening.

When no one else had known, it had been relatively easy to ignore what was happening. Especially when the visits from Maltichek had lessened—and diminished in strength. A few of what would equate to harsh sparring battle injuries might actually have been worth it as compared to all the stress and heartache the matter was causing everyone now. Ada would feel guilty over his lack of attention to his son's plight, as would Galion and likely even Nimbrethil. When Legolas' friends found out, they would feel guilty as well. And he did not even want to know how the twins might feel about it, much less Haldir—who had helped him in the first place all those years ago. Haldir might even feel like it was a type of betrayal, considering he had gone to such lengths to ensure Legolas did not end up getting mistreated again. And Legolas had ended up continuing to hide matters even after that. Although, to be fair, Maltichek had been gone for several years—long enough to make Legolas think he was truly gone.

Legolas drifted into a troubled sleep early in the evening, and did not awaken until the next morning. He was greeted at the sight of his father sleeping with his legs sprawled out in a chair beside the bed. On the other side sat Nimbrethil, thumbing through a large book under the light of a candle. Galion was gone again, and Legolas hoped he had gotten some sleep.

Apparently sensing Legolas had awakened, Nimbrethil looked up from his book with a greeting smile, piercing eyes carefully assessing his patient in that intense manner that Nimbrethil had. He set the book on the table beside the candle. Legolas could not quite make out the title in the dim morning light, and the healer turned the spine away so that the words did not show from the side. The elder elf rose and settled down gently on the bed beside Legolas, placing a hand against his forehead.

"How are you feeling, young one?" he asked, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. Legolas glanced over at his father, who looked completely exhausted, and kept his own voice low when he responded.

"I am well, Uncle. Did you not sleep at all?"

Nimbrethil laughed softly under his breath. "I did, child. We took turns, and Galion was here for a while before midnight. When will you quit worrying about everyone else and allow us to worry about you for once?"

Legolas frowned. "There really isn't any need for everyone to keep sitting with me. I am getting better, and I am not that injured now! It has been days now…"

"There is an absolute need!" Nimbrethil said, instantly serious. "For many reasons. You were very ill indeed, Legolas, and still are. And even if you were much better—which you are not—perhaps a lot of these troubles from the past could have been avoided had we sat with you more often!"

Legolas paled. Was this going to be Nimbrethil's turn to 'lecture the elfling until his ears turn red?' At least he was a little more rested, he supposed.

Nimbrethil glanced at Thranduil, who was still sleeping soundly, and took up Legolas' hands within his own. "Your Adar has never been the best at having intimate conversations," he said gently. "But he is trying, and he desperately wants to do something to make up for the years he neglected to see what was going on. Why not give him a chance, elfling, and truly confide in him for once? He might just surprise you." He smiled suddenly. "And you might give your old Uncle a chance sometime as well," he suggested almost hopefully. "I promise I will do my best to listen."

Legolas stared at him, his heart pounding nervously. He did not want to let everyone down, but he knew his father. He knew there was no chance in Arda that he could tell him such things and not have him take action. And he wasn't quite sure about Nimbrethil either. Galion had always been the one who helped him keep out of troubles, warned him when his father was angry with him about something so that he could prepare, tried to get Thranduil to lessen whatever punishment he had decided upon, and even hid a few of Legolas' misdeeds at times. It had been easier to open up to Galion, for he was fairly confident Galion would not break a trust unless given no other option.

The others, he was not so certain of. Even his best friends, if they thought it would hurt him more to keep it hidden, might tell someone. Of course, a tiny little voice told him that Galion could afford to be generous right now, since he thought Legolas was currently safe from more harm. And he could hardly fault any of them for wanting to keep him safe. He just was afraid the consequences from what would happen would be worse.

Nimbrethil frowned, pushing aside a look of disappointment. "I know it is not your burden to bear, child, to make us all feel better from our own guilt. But even if you discount that, you do need to realize that such secrets only end up being harmful to everyone involved—and sometimes innocent bystanders as well."

"I have talked to Adar," Legolas mumbled as Nimbrethil began to unfasten the buttons on his sleep tunic to check his injuries.

"Not perhaps enough, I dare say," Nimbrethil said wisely. "At any rate, child, sometimes the perfect time presents itself, and signs are given to us when it is that time. Often in gentle nudges from loved ones and friends, often in circumstances that bring everything to light. It is up to the one being given the signs to decide what to do about it. But if signs are ignored, they can sometimes lead to things getting worse instead of better."

"Why are you so insistent about this?" Legolas said, a tad bit resentfully. To be fair, Nimbrethil was rubbing a healing cream over the worst of his injuries at the moment and his wound was throbbing fiercely.

Nimbrethil quietly finished his treatment, wound more bandages around Legolas' thin waist, and pulled his tunic back on, fastening it firmly together and pulling the blankets back up to Legolas' shoulders.

"Because," he said finally, looking sadly at the young elf that he cared for so much. "Because I fear for you, child. More so at each piece of news I hear. Elves cannot live in such a manner for long, Legolas, without it taking a toll. Sometimes that toll is too high a price to pay. Remember, you have many that care about you here, despite how it has sometimes seemed."

Legolas looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded, but his throat seemed to have something lodged within. Nimbrethil patted him on the arm, then gathered up the supplies and went over to the fireplace mantle to prepare medicines for his patient.

Legolas watched him for a long while, admiring the other elf's easy grace and mannerisms. He was lucky, he knew, to have such special elves in his life. Perhaps he wasn't really being fair to them all. He was nearly grown, and had spent so much of his elflinghood hiding secrets from the ones who cared most about him.

Perhaps it really was time to try a different path. His way had only led to more heartache and frustration. And what if Galion was right about Maltichek and the others? What if Legolas was not the only elfling they were cruel to? What if right now they were targeting someone else? What if another elfling was being hurt? It would be his fault for not speaking up sooner, for not putting a stop to it. He had thought all this time that it would be safer for everyone. But perhaps it really wasn't safer at all. He had continued to be hurt over the years, and his loved ones had been left out of his life because of it. Now they would grieve, and these years could not be regained.

Legolas thoughts were interrupted by a long-ago memory that swept suddenly into his mind. Something Haldir had said to him back when he had helped him. The only thing that had convinced him to finally tell him what was going on: "Legolas, a life spent in secrets is a life ruined for all. You are an elf. You must open up to those who love you, or you—and they—will drift away until there is nothing left." He had smiled then, teasingly flicking Legolas' nose. "You would not wish to be responsible for me fading away, would you? Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn would surely not be happy! Nor would my poor brothers."

"But... you would not have to fade away, Haldir," Legolas had protested in confusion.

Haldir had looked at him so seriously that Legolas had squirmed anxiously. "Child, the ones that love you will surely suffer if you do. They will share in your fate—whatever that might be. Do not hide such matters again, I beg of you. My poor heart cannot bear it."

And Legolas had finally shared then what had happened, unable to bear the thought of Haldir or his other loved ones drifting away into nothingness just because he had remained silent.

But he had not shared all of it then, about Astaldo, or about a few of the other warriors that were loyal to Maltichek being cruel to him, and Galion was the first to know of some of the burdens he now bore. Perhaps the reason it had not been fully dealt with then was because of that very fact. Perhaps it really was time to tell everyone.

Legolas sighed, fidgeting with the edge of his covers as Nimbrethil walked back over to him, a steaming cup of medicinal tea in hand.

"Do not fret so, young one," the healer said kindly. "All will work out in time, I daresay. I did not mean to distress you so." He propped Legolas up into a sitting position, then helped him drink his tea.

When Legolas was finished and Nimbrethil started to rise to take the cup away, Legolas grabbed his hand and pulled him back down on the bed beside him. "Uncle…" he said softly. "I think… I think if you would call Galion for me, I would like to discuss the matter further with he, you, and Ada now. I think... perhaps… you are right…"

A look of relief crossed Nimbrethil's face almost too swiftly to be seen as he clasped Legolas' hand tightly. "Are you certain, young one? I do not wish to pressure you if you are not ready. You need much rest and healing yet, and that was not my intent."

Legolas nodded slowly, reluctantly. "I think… I think it must be now, before I change my mind…"

At those words, Nimbrethil went into immediate action. He squeezed Legolas' hand once more, then leaned over and hugged him for good measure, before moving over to Thranduil and nudging his shoulder.

"W-what? What, Nimbrethil? Is something wrong with Legolas?" Thranduil jumped up into a sitting position, looking wildly over at Legolas' bed. His eyes widened in confusion to see his son sitting up looking the same as he had before and staring nervously back at him.

Nimbrethil ignored his old friend, going over to place the empty cup on the mantle before moving to the door, opening it, and issuing terse orders to the guards outside to send for Galion posthaste.

Thranduil heard his orders and looked at him in even more confusion and dawning irritation. "What is it?" he asked tensely. "Has something happened?"

Nimbrethil shook his head gently, sending Thranduil a warning glance. "The elfling wished to see all of us together. There is no issue."

Thranuild looked almost eagerly at Legolas, and the young elf blushed and looked back down at his coverlet. He was already beginning to doubt the wisdom of his decision. But he had decided, and he would stick to it.

Thranduil rose and moved over to take the chair nearest Legolas, sitting down and drawing up one pale, thin hand within his own. He smiled at him encouragingly and did not say anything at all, which made Legolas feel a little better.

Only moments later Galion burst through the door. "Nay! Please do not tell me something else has happened!" He looked anxiously over at the bed, looking equally confused at the sight of a sitting-up Legolas. He managed a smile that did not meet his eyes, then turned to Thranduil. "I must speak with you at once! There has been an… incident."

Thranduil started to rise. "What is it, Galion? Can it not be discussed around us all?"

Galion looked nervously at Legolas. "Umm, I think it is better if we discuss it in private, my Lord."

Thranduil frowned, casting Nimbrethil a worried look.

"I would hear it, please," Legolas begged. "Especially if it has anything at all to do with me, Galion."

Galion glanced at him, then met Thranduil's eyes.

Thranduil shrugged. "I am inclined to believe there have been too many secrets around here, Galion. Perhaps if we do not seek to hide things from Legolas, he shall not seek to hide things from us." And he turned to smile comfortingly at his shocked-looking son.

Galion bowed his head, sighing. "So be it," he said sadly, looking back up at Thranduil. "It was just reported to me that Alfirin has been taken. And there are signs of a harsh struggle."

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Elvish Translations:

Penneth – Young one

Hir nin – My Lord

Hannon le. – Thank you.

Amin meleth le. – I love you.

Ion nin – My son

Ada – Father/Daddy