Author's Note: Hi guys! I got this finished sooner than I expected, so, I hope you enjoy it (and if you happen to find any little errors, let me know and I'll correct them—I haven't checked this chapter like I usually do. Hopefully it's fine.).

Kaylee—I'll look back and see if I've mentioned that later… ) And my new story is called The Worry Stone. I've been able to link to it, so I know it's there and not just a missed connection (which I've been getting plenty of.) I should have a new chapter up there within a day or two.

Sokochan—Thanks for the review! When I decided to put the story together like this I was hoping whoever read it would associate themselves with the children, but you're the first to say anything about it, in reviews or e-mails. Of course, death to nana is not quite what I had in mind… ;)

As always, reviews, ideas and constructive criticism (misspelled or misused words, or something just plain doesn't make sense) welcome.

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"Hurry up!" The boy was nearly pulled into the room by his sisters.

"But I don't like this story any more. Legolas shouldn't have been punished if it's something everyone does!"

His sisters rolled their eyes and pulled him farther, sitting him down in front of the bed as they sprawled on top of it, their eyes bright and eager. "We're ready, nana," the younger girl declared, wrapping a piece of hair around her finger. "Legolas was in his room at the beginning of the two months, saying it was—"

"Going to be a long two months. I remember child."

She grinned, knowing it was as much a reward as one could get from a story telling nana.

"Well, he was sure it was going to be a long two months, and it certainly wasn't easy…."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Not even a full day had passed before Legolas was staring at the ceiling in utter and complete boredom. He had spent some time twiddling his thumbs after he wore himself out doing the exercises that could be done indoors, but his energy was rapidly returning, yet again. He was starting to get hungry, as well, since he had been so active and really had nothing else to occupy himself thinking about. Thinking about why he was here wasn't a good thing, but there wasn't much else left.

A soft noise turned his head, and he drew his sword, which he of course kept at his side except when…um, sleeping… Anyway, he drew his sword and held it ready as the tapestry hiding the secret passage began to move. An elf suddenly appeared, freezing, her eyes crossing a bit as she stared at the point which was inches from her nose.

With a slight sigh he sheathed his sword, shaking his head at her. "Salan, what are you doing here? You could well get us both in trouble."

"Why?" she asked, tilting her chin up stubbornly. "You're still in your chambers, are you not? And haven't I finished my work for the day?" Her eyes defied him, but he tried again anyway.

"You shouldn't have come."

"Why not? Give me one good reason."

"Father won't like it. Mine or yours."

"Yours will realize he never said anything about visitors coming by. Mine would never think anything wrong."

"Even though it seems I've created quite a reputation with the ladies, or haven't you heard?"

"Of course I've heard, Legolas," she murmured softly, frowning at him. "I know there have been countless times in the last hundred plus years when you have had one she-elf or another beside you in bed. I know that even before yesterday sometimes their fathers were not exactly pleased by not only your behavior but that of their daughters as well. I know you have escaped being trapped by any one of them, and that they often leave your room and even the palace in tears." She watched him with her eyes so deep with what appeared as wisdom to him, that would always surpass his own. "This matters little to me, for I am no lady, and unlike all of them, I am your friend. You shall never forget me," she sent him a small smile, "though the thought of seeing you in a room full of ladies trying to figure out not only which ones you have and have not bedded, much less their names, is going to be an amusing one probably until the sun ceases to come up in the morning."

He let out a sigh but slowly smiled, for he had humor enough to imagine such a scene, and the last day of solitude had forced him to take a hard look at the way he had been treating the she-elves who had continued to come to the palace. He wasn't exactly pleased with himself, to put it mildly. Hearing it from Salan, the one friend who had been there, helping him however she could for the last two hundred years, had only made it worse.

Still, he could smile, because his friend she still was. "You crazy elf," he muttered, messing up her hair. Once her normal attire had changed to dresses when they could no longer go exploring like they used to, she had also stopped forever pulling her hair back into one or two long, thick braids. Now it dangled nearly to her knees. "So why did you come?"

"Keep you company for a while, and drop off some things." She turned and grabbed something from the small passage. "It should last for a while. Some things I threw in at random, because a bored mind can be incredibly clever, in a partially insane way."

He chuckled softly, recalling an incident involving string, a few sticks, some feathers, and a she-elf with long twin braids. "Very true. I was beginning to consider breaking the chair so I could whittle."

She laughed softly. "With your sword?" she teased.

"Like I said…." He grinned at her. "Are you really done? Is it nearly dinner, then?"

"Past it, actually, you should be getting yours soon…" she trailed off as they both heard soft steps near the door. She turned and ducked behind the tapestry as the door was unlocked and a serving elf laid a tray upon his dresser after Legolas called it was okay for the elf to enter. Legolas's thanks went unnoticed. "Can I call them, or what?" she grinned, popping back out when the noises had faded away.

He smiled but was interested more in his meal, which he carried to the bed and had soon devoured as Salan sent him the occasional amused glance, looking up from the piece of cloth she was stitching. "What's that?" he asked when he was finished.

She unfolded the material, showing a large cloak like the one she had been working on for Harlyn's third birthday. "It's nearly time," she explained softly.

"I suppose it is," he agreed, somewhat surprised by it. "It's hard to believe he's going to be a hundred…" he trailed off, a frown appearing between his brows.

Her breath caught as she had the same thought. "Surely one day…"

"I don't know." He frowned harder, looking around. "I suppose I shall have to write to him, since I doubt he shall come to me."

"I'll take it," she offered at once.

He shook his head. "No. Unless you are sent to bring my food when I have the letter completed, no. You would get in trouble for visiting me, no matter your arguments."

She sighed but agreed, looking down at the cloak. It didn't seem fair that his punishment, their punishment, would last until the morning after Harlyn's one hundredth birthday. "What will you ask?"

"That in exchange for celebrating with the family I shall remain within chambers for an extra time, whatever he desires," Legolas answered at once, already drafting the letter in his head. "Could you get me what I shall need?"

"I already have, unless you want a wax seal."

He shook his head. "Not necessary." A sudden knock took them by surprise. "Just a minute," he called loudly. Leaning to her ear, he whispered, "Go. Don't get caught, please?"

She nodded and began to leave, before hesitating at the tapestry. "Legolas—" she whispered softly.

He shook his head. 'Go' he mouthed, before calling "Enter."

It was several days before she was able to return, and there were papers scattered across the room, the books she had brought lying lazily wherever he had dropped them. "By the stars!" she exclaimed, working her way over to the bed, which appeared to be the only clean place in the room. "Did an orc attack sweep through here?" she asked the empty room, for Legolas was not to be found.

"Very funny," he muttered from behind her, the smell of soap and warm skin brushing over her as he passed her to get to his dresser. He blinked at her until she got the hint, blushing while turning around so he could dress. When he was done he eyed the bag she had brought with her eagerly. "What'd you bring me?"

She sighed softly. "Something else to destroy this once lovely room. The maid is going to have a fit when she sees this place, Legolas!"

He shrugged. "I have plenty of time to clean up a bit, and I may, from sheer boredom."

She rolled her eyes but backed away with a shriek when he lunged for the bag. Unfortunately, her backwards step was right over a bit of wood she had brought for him to carve, sending her flat on her back on the floor, with Legolas falling on top of her.

His eyes went wide and he swallowed, lifting himself off of her with his arms, looking down, trying to figure what the best way to move away without leaning against her again was. With a faint wince he brought his knees up, straddling her hips for a moment before arching back onto the balls of his feet, allowing him to stand. He gave her a hand as soon as he was up. "Are you all right?"

"Could you clean sooner, rather than later?"

He smiled faintly. "Sure." His eyes dropped to the bag her fingers had kept a death grip on through the fall, and she handed it over at once. When he looked up, she was already at the tapestry. "Hey! What's the rush?" he asked, not wanting to let her leave if she was angry at him. He would rather be sure she had calmed down and forgiven him first, since she was the only visitor he'd had all week.

"I have to help Mother with some things for Harlyn's birthday."

"Is he angry at me?" he asked softly. "He has not come to visit."

She hesitated, and he closed his eyes, knowing the answer with her silence. A soft touch on his cheek made him open his eyes. "He wants you to be there for his birthday, and thinks you should have asked for that before agreeing to your punishment."

He frowned, watching her carefully. "He does not blame you, does he?"

She shook her head at once. "No. He says you should have stopped Thranduil sooner, actually. But mostly he thinks the punishment was too severe, a sentiment I'm inclined to share." A faint frown appeared between her brows, her eyes loosing some of their sparkle as she looked at him. "I hate to think how you will look at the end when a week has already taken some of your spark away." She pushed a wet piece of hair away from his face, before looking back to the door. "Put the books in the first bag when you're finished so I can return them. Any requests?"

"You've done admirably well so far," he murmured. "More than I could have hoped for, and infinitely more than I have the right to wish."

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat at the solemn tone, and then she swept the tapestry aside and left his room as quickly as she had entered.

Legolas thought about the mess he'd gotten himself into for a while, before the curiosity of what she'd brought him drove it away.

About two weeks later she had only managed to visit twice, each time shorter than the last. The light in his eyes was fading, which she couldn't bear to see. His brother hadn't visited him either, though he knew Legolas had specifically requested he be allowed at any time.

Salan simply could not take it any more. She didn't care if she got in trouble, even if she was banished to another elven realm. She entered the throne room, her anger flooding her veins, but enough sense left to be glad it was only her family and the King's present.

"What is it Salan?" her mother asked.

Salan took a deep breath, and considered how to word what she knew she shouldn't address, but really had no choice but to say. "It has been brought to my attention that there is a family of elves who is letting one of their own die." Horror flashed across their faces for an instant, so she continued quickly. "For something he did not do he was forced into confinement, his transgressions nothing for such punishment, which has lasted so long the light has begun fading from his eyes. His family has never once visited him, not even to provide him something to take his mind away from the solitude they forced upon him. Every day that goes by he sinks deeper and deeper into depression, finding it harder to smile as he sees only that his family has abandoned him. His brother, who he loves above most of the world, who he risked the wrath of their father to insure would be allowed to visit, has not done so, believing it was that elf's choice to be punished, so he should be able to endure it alone. His father has received a plea on the behalf of that brother, but has made no answer. He has a single friend who can get to him, who brings him things to do so he doesn't lose hope entirely, but that friend is kept very busy, so there is little time to be spared for him. What little company he gets, he encourages to leave quickly, so they will not bring trouble upon themselves because of their concern for him. Is this just, my lord?"

"What family would do such a thing?" Harlyn asked, frowning severely.

She looked at him steadily, her eyes dark and pained. "Your own, Harlyn." She turned to leave, but was stopped before she could exit. Mentally she kicked herself for trying, but she had not been able to stand it any longer.

"Salan!" Thranduil's voice echoed in the hall, bringing her to a stop. "Do you speak with all honesty?"

"Honesty and fear, my lord, for the light in his eyes is dying. He wished me never let it be known I have visited him the few times I have been able, but no punishment you could force upon me would be worse than seeing him lose hope and faith." She looked up at them, her eyes ancient and condemning, a single tear sliding down her cheek as she looked at Harlyn. Unable to help it any longer, she fled from the room, rushing away before any could stop her.

In the room the two families remained still for a moment. Thranduil blinked in shock, and Harlyn was the first to get to his feet, striding quickly out of the room. He didn't notice the others trailing along behind him as he went to Legolas's room. He unlocked the door and entered quickly, his heart clenching with pain when Legolas's eyes snapped up to him, a faint smile crossing his lips when he saw his brother in the door.

"Hello, Harlyn. I would say good morning, or good afternoon, or even good evening but I have lost all track of time. One is much the same as another, but I am glad you have come." The sincerity in his eyes was enough to overwhelm Harlyn, who felt like a true heel at that moment.

He embraced his brother, the startled elf quickly returning it with a growing smile. "I am sorry I did not come sooner."

"You were angry with me," Legolas murmured, no anger in his tone, only regret. "I am sorry I did not ask for your birthday celebration when I had the chance. My only excuse is I failed to think about the dates when the sentence was proclaimed."

"It is a good excuse, which I should have accepted before now."

Legolas smiled slightly, seeming much older in that moment than the last most of them had seen him. "You are young. I have a thousand years on you, and I am still often a foolish child."

"And I have thousands of years on you both, and wisdom sometimes escapes me as well."

Legolas looked up in surprise, seeing his family in the door. "Father?"

"Has it been so long you have forgotten me?" Thranduil asked, smiling slightly, though it was mostly forced, for his son did not look well at all.

"I am surprised is all. I did not expect to see you until I was released for dinner." He smiled to see his mother, and then his eyes took in Salan's parents as well, growing wide with alarm. He looked quickly between them, before groaning softly and backing away. "She did it anyway, didn't she?"

"If you mean to ask if Salan made us realize how severe the punishment was, then yes."

"I told her—"

"Not to say anything so no trouble would come to her," Thranduil interrupted. "We shall deal with her shortly, after you have had a while to recover. Harlyn, would you be sure to accompany Legolas in the gardens?"

"Of course, Father."

"Father?"

Thranduil looked at his frowning son. "Your punishment has been more severe than I intended, Legolas. It is over."

He took a breath, afraid to close his eyes for fear when he opened them it would have been a dream. "And Salan?"

"As I said, we shall deal with her shortly."

"Father—"

"That will be all for now, Legolas," Thranduil insisted. Legolas was not strong enough in his resolve to argue just yet, but the determination that he be able to defend her when the time came pulled him upright, sending him after his little brother quickly as they headed straight to the gardens. Though the things Salan had brought always helped, the flowers and leaves she had brought always died quickly without sunlight if they were in pots, or simply faded and withered away because she had picked them. He breathed in the air, letting it wash over him and let go of the tension and unnatural stiffness that had crowded him because of his confinement.

By the time dinner was ready, Legolas was nearly revived, though it always takes a while for the light to fully recover. He was well on his way, though. Salan wasn't there, obviously not quite ready to face his family, and hers, after what she had done to get him released. He had smiled faintly when Harlyn had told her what she had said, not leaving out a word as he remembered it. Legolas could picture her, her eyes flashing beneath lowered lids, her hands clenched at her sides though slightly hidden behind her back.

Before long Thranduil had her brought before them in the throne room. She had not been informed of his release, for when she looked up and saw him sitting in the previously empty chair beside his father, her eyes widened, a joyful smile lighting them up from the inside, though she kept her face still.

"You know why you have been brought here, do you not, Salan?"

"To hear the punishment I shall receive for visiting Legolas and disobeying his orders."

"Really?" Thranduil asked, stroking his chin with a slight frown upon his face. "I did not know you had been brought here for such a dark purpose."

She frowned faintly, looking up at him. "Then why, my lord?"

"So I and my family could properly thank you for bringing our attention to something we should never have missed." Thranduil stepped down from his throne, taking her hands between his, lifting them up for a kiss. "Thank you for saving my son," he murmured softly, his voice thick.

Salan blinked, astonished at what was happening even as she fought back tears as the queen moved to her, bowing her head before placing a necklace with the swirling leaf design of their house around her neck. When Harlyn took her hands and kissed them, his own tears threatening, she nearly lost it completely.

Legolas smiled at her as he came forward, the light in his eyes glowing brightly. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, my dear friend," he whispered softly, running his thumbs beneath her eyes as if to brush away the tears she had not yet let drop.

As if to spite her a tear slipped forth, smoothed away at once by his thumb as he held her still. Finally she couldn't help it, linking her arms about his neck as she hugged him tightly, a few more tears spilling over. After a while she sniffled softly and pulled back, trying for flippancy to help lighten the mood. "Well, if I couldn't stand to be around you, there was something seriously wrong."

He grinned, his first true grin in over a week, close to two in fact, and kissed her forehead once more before stepping back slightly. Sometimes it takes returning to the light to know how dark the darkness had been, and such had been the way for Legolas. He had been unaware of what was happening, though he knew there was something wrong when Salan fled from him, nearly in tears after one look at him on her last visit. "Twice now, you have saved my life. Perhaps someday I shall be allowed to return the favor."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay nice and safe instead of giving you the chance."

He sent her a crooked smile, before the small group was interrupted by a messenger announcing a few visitors had arrived. Meaning, some more nobles and their lady-daughters had arrived to seek a meeting with Legolas. He sighed softly but returned to his place as Salan made her escape, her hand closing over the pendant the queen had given her.

After he was let out of his room, though, Legolas was never quite the same. Not in a bad way, but in a way that surprised all around him, except perhaps his nana and Salan, both of whom knew him better than even his own parents.

He no longer bedded the ladies who flocked to him in droves, though he would dance with them and was generally polite, though everyone has a point at which pure politeness is no longer an option and escape becomes the most important thing. Still, the change allowed him to make friends with a few of them, one encouraged enough by that that she told her father they were practically betrothed.

When Thranduil spoke to Legolas on the matter, unsure if he should offer congratulations or be irritated he hadn't been told, Legolas nearly choked on his wine. "What?"

Thranduil frowned. "I have heard it said you are betrothed to the lady Ellery."

"Well whoever said it knew not of what they spoke!" Legolas insisted, still coughing slightly since the wine had gone down wrong. "Friends we may be, but nothing more."

"You doubt that?"

"If she is the one who perpetuated this ridiculous rumor, I sincerely doubt it." He slammed down his goblet and strode quickly from the hall, hesitating as he chose where to go. One branch would lead to Ellery, the other to… He walked down there quickly, knocking on the door.

"Enter," she called. She glanced up from her book. "What's wrong now, Legolas?" Salan asked softly, not bothering to close her book.

"Have you heard a rumor?"

"Concerning your betrothal to Lady Ellery?" she asked, pouting as she set the book aside at long last. "I cannot believe you said nothing to me," she sniffled.

He rolled his eyes at her and sat down on the chest at the foot of her bed. "Salan," he murmured in annoyance.

She grinned. "I figured it wasn't true. Though it took longer than I expected for… let me guess… your father to ask you about it?" At his irritated look she laughed delightedly. "So why are you here?"

"What should I do?"

"Do you love her?"

"Not like that. Maybe not even as a friend. I can stand her company and she dances well—"

"Enough!" Salan laughed, holding up her hands. "I get the point. Obviously you cannot marry her if you do not love her, and being able to dance is hardly a good basis for an eternity of commitment." She chuckled when he paled at the word eternity. "So, why exactly are you here? I doubt you needed me to help you figure out you don't want to marry her."

"No," he agreed, scowling. "How do I break it to her since I don't even know if she's heard the rumors?"

"You realize chances are good she started it herself, one way or another."

"Of course." He frowned at her, flipping the question away with a quick move of his shoulder. "I've been dealing with them for half my life, little one, so I would hardly be my old annoying self if I didn't realize it."

She grinned. Then she frowned slightly. "Half your life? By the stars are we really that old?" She frowned harder. "It seems like so little time has gone by."

"I know, but that is time, after all." He chuckled softly. "Harlyn didn't learn from my mistake."

"But thankfully you don't have to worry about most of your past lovers comparing you to him, since they were, for the most part, married off long ago."

He winced at the idea, then looked at her pleadingly.

She laughed softly, then let out a soft sighing 'hmmm'. "Well," she decided after a moment, "you'll have to come right out with it, I think."

"What?!?" He jumped to his feet, pacing quickly even as he ignored the crooked brow she treated him to, amusement sparkling deep in her eyes. "Are you insane?"

"Not at all. All you have to do is pace like that in her room, complaining how terrible you feel that such a silly rumor was spread. Then you can say something like how you hope it won't change your friendship with her or some such nonsense. That lets her off the hook if she started it, because she can simply say of course it won't, and it gets you off as well, because she'll get the point, unless she is extremely obtuse."

"If she was, I don't suppose I'd be able to have put up with her company for so long."

"Put up with? Do you never enjoy the company of the ladies?"

"Rarely, Salan. Very rarely indeed."

She sighed softly, standing before him. She touched his cheek softly, tilting her head at him. "Someday you'll find her, Legolas. I'm sure of it."

"How can you be?"

"Because I plan on being an honorary aunt to all the little rascals you'll produce. Just like you, complete pains they'll be, no doubt."

"No doubt," he agreed with a grin. "By then you could have a brood of your own."

She frowned. "I haven't thought about it for myself," she admitted after a while. "Maybe because you're having such a wretched time of it."

"Salan—" he began, intending to encourage her to find her own mate if she could, but she shook her head, laying a finger over his lips.

"Do not worry about me, Legolas. You have enough on your plate as it is." She smiled slightly, "Should I have children of my own, someday, I know just the royal to make their uncle."

"As long as that doesn't mean you plan on marrying Harlyn, I'll accept."

She blinked, her eyes widening. "Harlyn? You are disturbed by that rumor. Go and squelch it."

He laughed softly and strode quickly to the door before turning back to look at her, his eyes suddenly solemn. "How is Alina?"

Salan bowed her head slightly, thinking about the little princess. "Nalinalla is still very weak. We do not know how she will fare."

"No change at all?"

She swallowed, the atmosphere suddenly too heavy to breathe properly in. "None," she whispered.

Legolas closed his eyes, before hitting the doorframe with his palm as hard as he could. "What was she doing out there in the first place? Doesn't she know how dangerous it is?"

"Like we knew?"

He shook his head. "We were allowed outside, she was not. What was she doing?"

"Exploring, Legolas. Don't you remember how you loved to explore?"

"I also remember waiting until I was allowed to do so, and I took a weapon with me, no matter how incompetent with it I was." Nalinalla had been attacked by spiders in the woods, and found by Legolas the next day, when the poison had seeped deeply into her body. Though the healers had done all they could, there was little they could do now, except wait.

Salan sighed softly and watched him, her eyes dark and full of sorrow. "It is up to her now, as it has been for many days." After a moment, she frowned. "Do not blame yourself for your concern over the rumor because of her condition. She would like you to have peace."

"Even as death may give her hers?" he asked, his tone bitter. Death was not something they were accustomed to dealing with, for those were the years before the shadow grew to the point deaths among patrols and guards were more common.

"It may, and just as easily may not. Go, speak to Ellery, then go and sit with your sister."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"What happens to the princess?" he asked as soon as I stopped.

His sisters rolled their eyes. "Think about it," the eldest snapped. "Do you know an elf named Nalinalla?"

I had to smile as they all looked at me pleadingly, but I had already continued longer than planned, so they soon marched out of my room after their round of good nights. I chuckled softly and watched the fire burn down as the starlight began to overcome the reddish lights in the room.