Well…here is the next chapter, and it seems that we have angered some Thranduil fans with the events of the last post.  For everyone who this does not concern (you know who you are,) please feel free to skip over this and get onto the chapter.  Now…*takes deep breath* here I go.

To all the members of the Mirkwood Castle and Royal Mirkwood:  Please understand that I am not angry at you—I have no reason to be—and I respect all of your opinions, but I am rather upset and slightly offended.  First, Jay, I love you for both your reviews, but I don't appreciate the fact that you basically rounded up some other people to gang up on us to severely criticize/flame our story just because you all don't agree with what we had Thranduil do.  Okay, I can see why you think his actions were somewhat senseless, but don't we all do somewhat senseless things when we are angry?  It was just a brief moment of anger, his mind was clouded, and he wasn't thinking—just seeing the Dwarves was enough to get him angry…we all know how Thranduil—and many of the Elves—feel about Dwarves.  We did NOT turn him evil, nor did we suddenly possess him by evil just because of pure laziness and lack of a better plot idea.  We did NOT do it to add more angst either just for the fun of it.  He just had a brief moment of anger, that's all—and he made a very bad decision in it.  Will there be regrets later?  Of course!  If he were pure evil, there wouldn't be any.  But please remember that this is a series, and everything is being done for a purpose…I can promise you that he will be redeemed later, in other stories.  STILL—there is no need to criticize and call this "bad and amateurish" just because you are not happy with the one thing Thranduil did.

We did not do this out of laziness, and we weren't succumbed to anything.  This idea took much planning and thought, and we worked extremely hard on it.  So sorry if we didn't go up to your standards—we are only sixteen, and we really tried our hardest to make this an enjoyable story for everybody.  All I ask is that you give this story a second chance, and see it through to the end, for what that's worth.

And to everyone else:  thank you so much for the wonderful feedback, we really appreciate it.  And LOL, Insane One, I don't think your warg is as bad as angry Thranduil fans. 

*nice Fred*

Ah, well, sorry again for having to put up with my speech, I am getting off of my podium now and here at last is the chapter.  Hope you enjoy.

The early morning sun drifted through the window, and it rested on the young Elfling's face as he slept soundly. Legolas turned as the warmth became irritable, opening his eyes with a soft yawn. For a moment longer he lay still, and then a smile flashed across his face.

Rolling out of bed he quickly pulled his clothes on, not taking any care to button the front of his tunic as he raced barefoot into the hall. The soft carpet tickled his feet as he moved quickly, glancing into each room as he passed by.

//Where was she?// he thought to himself. It was unusual for his mother to be gone at this time in the morning. She was always up here somewhere. Then he stopped.  He remembered that there had been several other times when she had been gone, and she had always returned later.

He thought hard, which was a challenge for him at that age. He did not know of any feasts or activities that were taking place today. Did she tell him that she was going to be gone today? Legolas shook his head in answer to his own question. Perhaps she was downstairs, he thought, as a new rush of excitement flowing through him. He had to find her.  They were supposed to finish his bow today, and he was eager to surprise his father with it.

But the dining halls were empty and silence was the only sound that accompanied the vacant corridors. Worriedly he made his way back upstairs, past the sitting room where the soft fragrance of the lilacs lingered. They were beginning to wilt now.  Perhaps she was off picking more flowers. But why would she go without asking him first? Legolas thought that she would never do that, and if she had he was never aware that she did.

Running to the window proved to be a futile act, for the gardens below lay in tranquility as the golden sun rose over the hills. Sighing in frustration Legolas ran back down to his room, shoving his feet quickly into his shoes pulling an outer tunic on at the same time.

He made his way quickly toward the door, taking care to tiptoe across the kitchen floor so that the cooks inside would not prevent him from leaving. The morning was still early, and he doubted that his father would be happy for him to be outside at this hour.

The air was cool and crisp, and it was full of a freshness that hit him like an icy wind. He would search every place he knew of until he found her. There were a few occasions when she would leave for a walk or rest among the trees, and he knew that all too well. It did bother him when she went to do that. She never told him why, but he had the slightest feeling that it was because of him.

He returned almost an hour later, and hunger was building up inside of him as he realized that breakfast was near. Perchance she was waiting for him inside, he thought, singing as he skipped down the garden path before breaking into a swift run, hoping that his mother was there.

~*~*~

It felt odd that he was the only one in the dining hall eating. Neither his mother nor his father was there, and it worried Legolas that the cooks were paying more attention to him than usual. He had asked them a couple times where his mother was.  In response, they would just smile and say, "Such a sweet child," before turning away to hide a pained look that Legolas was able to catch several times.

After eating Legolas took care to clean up his mess, for that was something his mother was always lecturing him about. Outside he could hear the laughter of the other Elven children, and he cringed slightly. He never wanted to see them again, or at least until they apologized to him, which he couldn't see happening any time soon.

Instead of heading upstairs he made his way down the hall, towards his father's study. He knew that the two sometimes spent time in there talking, and he couldn't understand why he hadn't thought of that before.  But his father was the only one in there at the time, and he was looking over his papers as he usually did. Legolas wrinkled his nose in distaste. He would never do that, he vowed silently. Why his father ever did was a mystery to him. He had questioned his mother about it, and all she ever said was that his father had to do it, much like he had to wash his face.

He pushed the door open a bit further and slipped inside. The fire warmed the room and Legolas smiled to himself as he came up near the desk.

"Father?" the young elf asked timidly.

Thranduil looked up from where he worked. His son was standing on his tiptoes to see over the large wooden desk. "Yes Legolas, what is it?"

"Why do you do that?  Is it fun? It doesn't look very fun."

Thranduil smiled gently. "No it isn't my son, but it is something I have to do. Now why don't you run along and play with the other children? I am quite busy at this moment."

Legolas shook his head. Playing with them was the last place he wanted to be. "Where is mother?"

Things happened so quickly that that it took Legolas a few seconds to realize what had transpired. He found himself suddenly lying on the floor, his cheek throbbing where his father had hit him. For a moment he lay still as the tears welled up in his eyes.

"Don't you ever speak of her again," Thranduil warned, his voice loud and menacing.

Legolas cringed in fear. He had never seen his father like this before. He had yelled when he was angry many times before, but he had never hurt him. He wasted not a moment longer as he stumbled to his feet, racing through the door and out of the room, crying as he went.

Thranduil stood, shocked himself at the events that had just taken place, and was slightly surprised to discover that he was shaking. What had he done? He had never meant to hit his son.

"Legolas, please come back here, I'm sorry," he called as he stumbled to the door, but the hallway was empty.

It hadn't been the boy's fault. Feaear had chosen her own fate, and there had been no reason to punish his son. He thought back to the decision he had made.  His own words rang in his ears.

"Kill the Dwarves, and when you've finished escort Feaear out of these woods and make sure she does not return, under penalty of death."

"Feaear is a traitor, let her live with that for the rest of her days."

Perhaps he had been too harsh, banishing his love, but when he remembered what she had done fury built up inside him. What was done was done. She had deserved her fate. No Elf, even his wife, was to have no kind of business with a Dwarf, and that was final. 

~*~*~

Legolas ran for a long time before he finally collapsed from fatigue.  The fresh air outside calmed his nerves some, but it did nothing for the grief. He lay where he had fallen, not feeling like getting up, and he curled up in a tight ball, silver tears rolling down his face.

Worry for his mother increased. His father had not been happy when he had spoken of her. What had she done to cause him to speak that way about her in that tone?  He prayed silently that all of this was a bad dream, and nothing more, but in his heart he knew that it was not.

His cheek throbbed and burned as it started to swell. He rubbed it, careful not to irritate it. The sun shone down, seemingly his only friend at the moment, the only one who understood the pain he felt in his heart.

"Legolas?"

Quickly Legolas pulled back fearfully, unsure of who it was.  Malelee stood atop of the hill, watching him. Hastily Legolas wiped away the tears that stained his cheeks, sitting up as he calmed his breathing.

"What do you want?"

Malelee made his way down the hill. "What happened?"

Legolas had never been fond of Malelee, but his fellow classmate had never done anything to harm him before. The worst he had ever done was to tell on him when he left class or the lessons.

"Nothing," he lied through his teeth.

Malelee knelt down in front of him. "You're hurt," he told him.

"I'm fine."

Malelee shook his head. "I heard what happened."

Legolas looked at him rather shocked and inquired, "About what?"

"What Tel'raa and the others did. That wasn't very nice."

"Oh," Legolas murmured, hanging his head, disappointment surging through him. For a moment he had thought that Malelee had heard something of his mother. "It's not that."

"What is it then?"

Legolas sighed in frustration. It was obvious that the young Elf would not take the hint that he did not feel like talking.

"Atara," he whispered quietly, pausing as his breathing hitched. He was determined not to cry in front of Malelee.   

"You're mother did this?" he wondered.

Legolas shook his head. He wouldn't tell him that his father had hit him. "No, I don't know where she is. No one will tell me."

Malelee looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe she went on an outing? My mother does that sometimes."

Legolas shook his head. "I asked my father and he…" Legolas stopped. He had not wanted to say that.

"You're father did this?"

Legolas nodded, and at last he was unable to stave off the unwanted tears. "He yelled at me, and he…he said never….to never say her name again," he choked out, wiping away falling tears.

Malelee said nothing. He had never seen anything like this before, and he knew not how to handle it. Then an idea struck him.

"Come with me," he invited, holding his hand out. "I know something that will cheer you up."

~*~*~

The small house was different from his own, but it was certainly warm and welcoming. Legolas sat at the small table with a mug of warm flavored tea. He had never had it before and the taste was overwhelming. Across from him Malelee sat eating a cracker from the plate that had been placed in the middle of the table.

"It's so nice of you to come over young one," Lirimaerea, Malelee's mother told him as she sat down between the two.

Legolas nodded, but said nothing. Malelee was right, this had made him feel slightly better. Here he was away from home, and out of the chill that hung in the air. Now that he was away from everything, his mind was off of his mother and the day's happenings.

"So, would you two like to help me bake some bread?" Lirimaerea asked.

The two young Elflings nodded, jumping from their chairs and racing over to the cooking area.

"Wait a moment," she called, "both of you need to wash first. I will not have dirty hands all over my food. You know better Malelee."

"Yes Atara," he conceded, smiling sheepishly, "Come Legolas, I will show you where the wash bin is."

Legolas followed him outside, and helped Malelee fill the bin with water.  After that was done, the two washed quickly and then made their way inside hastily so as to avoid the sharp chill of the air.

Legolas made sure to follow the instructions carefully, for the last thing he wanted was two elders mad at him. During this time Malelee made frequent jokes.  They lightened Legolas' mood, and he was grateful for that. By the afternoon he had forgotten everything as the two played outside, waiting for the bread to finish baking. 

As night approached Legolas began to fear going home. He did not wish to face his father again so soon. Fortunately, he was saved from that when Lirimaerea asked if he would like to stay with them for the night.

"I'm sure Malelee would like that."

Malelee nodded, and asked, "Oh please, Legolas, won't you stay?"

Legolas nodded quickly.

"Very well then," Lirimaerea replied, smiling at the young elf.  She turned to her youngest son and informed, "I'll send your brother over to let Legolas' parents know. Why don't you help your friend set up his bedding? It is getting late."

Malelee nodded and the two young Elves made their way swiftly down the hall as Lirimaerea sent her oldest son off towards the palace. That night Legolas slept soundly, his thoughts and dreams drifting to his mother often for worry still lingered within him. If only he could see her again…

TBC…