Thanks to my lovely reviewers again, and hello to those who don't review…
 
Tithen Min - Yeah, I love ickle Aragorn too. I won't hurt him… well I won't kill him – is that enough? Oh well, tough shit if it's not ;-)  

The Reviewer – Thank you, I've really worked on my descriptions because I used to just stray over them without much attention.

Louie – I'm exactly like you – I'm addicted to A/L first meeting stories. Please use the spelling 'arse' instead of 'a$$' because, well I'm English and I can handle being sworn at properly! Kidding…(well… no, I'm not, so err… hi there.)     
Illusen – Thank you, and you win the grand prize, son (sorry, just realised you're a girl. Erm…congratulations, love)! Legolas' horse shall be named 'Mastrovar' in your honour.
Trusting friendship – Legolas does tend to come across as a bit of a meanie for a while, although my sister doesn't like Estel, which wasn't exactly what I was aiming for… Anyway, you'll see what happens obviously.
funky4657 – Thanks, that's a great compliment considering there are some great stories on here! I didn't call Legless' horse Arod because this story is set like 40-50 years before LotR and I don't know how long horses live in Middle Earth, thanks for your suggestion though!
Verhoswen Fireblade – Thank you, very kind words from someone so well read (Congrats on that, by the way, it's some achievement) I'll probably take you up on your offer in future chapters, thanks. I'll also use your suggested names for the other horses, if that's okay (you have little choice in the matter anyway…) 
TigerLily713 – Cheers, no one wants to have to battle their way through bad grammar, spelling etc, so I try my best to have as little error as possible. 
Astronema – Well, there will be a couple of chapters of fluff, well not fluff as such, but no fighting, I'm afraid. Deal with it! Slap that mind-controlling demon thingy down, if it has that much bloodlust, then letting it take over will screw up your social life. Honest ;-) 

Ah, we've found the story. At this current time, I'm being attacked by some big f*cking fly thing and the bastard won't die! Grrrr… Not to mention I'm listening to Christina Aguilera (Track 8 on Stripped) and it's a little icky, I don't want her breathing at me. I've got to stop writing my thoughts down. Aargh! I did it again; bloody hell Alice, get to the goddamn story already. I'm one of the few people in the world than argue with their own head and actually end up not talking to the right side of their brain. Hmm… Anyway, here we go… 

I'm not too happy about this chapter, but never mind.

~*~Return to Rivendell~*~

Lord Elrond rubbed his temples wearily as he watched the heavy rain cascade down over the majestic valley. The warm glow from homes lit up the ravine, making the crisp, wild night feel a little more cosy and forgiving. In all the long years he had dwelled in Imladris, he still cherished its beauty. The singing from the fast flow of the rivers and waterfalls as the water skipped and danced against the rocks coupled with the soothing patter of the night's downpour eased some of his exhaustion. The sweet smell of early flowering blossom filled his nostrils and he sighed gently. His long dark hair was slightly dishevelled; his plaits loose from the rigours of the day and his long ivory robes were spattered with dark flecks of mud. Elrond stuck out his hand for a moment, letting the cool water run through his fingers.

"You look tired, my friend." A familiar voice spoke gently.

"Gandalf." He acknowledged. "It was good of you to come." Elrond smiled softly.

"I promised Estel I would not miss his birthday again." He replied heartily. "How does he fare?"

The tall elf sighed and turned to meet his old friend's gaze. "Estel is still a very troubled soul. He does not sleep well."

"He has been through a terrible experience. Any child who witnesses his own father's murder…" The wizard trailed off solemnly.

"Of course, but thankfully I think he is finally starting to settle in. Estel adores the twins; they have been very good to him. I daresay he has developed their taste for mischief."

Gandalf laughed warmly. "I can certainly believe that."

"My people have dwelled in this place for thousands of years and yet when they try to take him for a bath, he manages to disappear without a trace." Elrond tried hard to conceal a fond smile. "It is an amazing gift."

"I am sure he means no disrespect."

"Oh, I am certain he does not. He is a pleasant and happy child in most respects; he studies hard, is always polite, punctual and enjoys nothing more than playing tricks on us all, but at night he is plagued by horrific dreams." Elrond paused, his eyes darkening sombrely. "Elladan, Elrohir and I love him as if he were our own kin, I just wish he would stop wandering off alone, it is not safe for him."

Gandalf nodded in agreement. "It is just his age, curiosity will always get the better of little boys."

* * *

A couple of hours passed, midnight had just crept by and the busy preparations for Estel's birthday party were finally coming to a close. Many of the servants had retired to bed and the last logs were glowing faintly in the fireplace.

Elladan walked silently down the stone corridor, the elegant arches that lined hallway, bathed in a soft glow from twinkling lanterns, amplified the splendour of the house, toward his foster brother's bedroom. He often stopped to check on him during the night, usually finding him awake, trembling from the terrible dreams that haunted his sleep. The dreams that Estel would try so desperately to conceal. There were rarely storms in these parts but when they occurred, they were always of immense ferocity and unnerved even the most fearless of elves. It was on these nights that his foster brother would admit defeat and seek the comfort of his family.

He knocked gently on the heavy Oak door. "Estel?" He called out softly.

There was no response, which was a promising sign but he opened the door as quietly as he could to make sure he was asleep. The bed covers were rolled back, exposing the empty bed in the middle of the room.

"Estel?" Elladan called a little louder, scanning the empty quarters.

He turned away, shaking his head as he left and bumped into Elrohir, who had crept behind him.

"Estel is gone again." He whispered anxiously. "He is not in his bed."

"Should we tell father?" Elrohir asked, his voice barely audible.

"No, not yet. You search outside; hopefully he has just gone to see what all the noise is. If we can't find him after an hour, we'll tell Ada, although I fear for Estel if he does find out."

"But if he is in trouble, we must find him despite the consequences. We cannot continue to hide his disappearances from father."

"I know, but if we can get him to open up to us and maybe he will stop all of this and he will not have to suffer the wrath of father. Let us keep it quiet for the moment though." Elladan replied softly. "I will search the house."

The twins nodded and separated. Elrohir ran down the stairs, his boots slapping against the smooth rock, and into the large courtyard. The rain was beginning to ease off as he scanned the area with his acute elf eyes and elected to go left, in the direction of the trees Estel liked to climb in the summer. His feet squelched through the thick mud, sticking to the ground as he looked up into the branches. The season was on Elrohir's side; the foliage had not yet sprung into life, clinging onto the last days of winter. He searched carefully but could not find his young brother that he desperately wished would jump out of a tree giggling.

He continued to a stone stairway between the luscious vegetation. The rain trickled down over dead leaves that had fallen in the autumn; they only used this path in the summer months, the winter frost that embraced the dell made it too dangerous and too many had taken a tumble there. He clambered up quickly, his keen eyes still alert for any sign of movement and headed toward the stables.

The storm had now become little more than a gentle spring shower, much to the dark haired twin's relief. If Estel was outside, at least the weather was no longer so unforgiving. He pushed away the overgrown bushes and branches from his face, showering him in more rain as he approached, noticing a new horse being brought into them.

"Mastrovar? Has Legolas arrived?" He asked the elf who held it's reins.

"Yes, he got here a few minutes ago injured."

"Injured? Does my father know?" Elrohir asked fretfully.

"Yes, he has taken him to the halls of healing, though I do not think he is very badly hurt."

"Thank you." He mumbled and ran back toward the house.

Elladan approached the one of the last rooms in the house he had not searched - his father's study. He hoped that his young brother had fallen asleep on the grand old leather chair in here like had in the past. He wanted to find Estel quickly, so he could kill him before his father did. Entering with great caution not to move any of his father's work, he glanced across the piles of books and scripture, a musty smell of age in the air. Amongst the dusty notes laid a picture of Elrond, himself and his twin with their names written in Elvish underneath, obviously drawn by Estel, he smiled before taking a last look across the room. He sighed; Estel was not there. Dejectedly, he turned to leave again but immediately spotted a familiar figure trying to sneak unnoticed past the door.

"Do not take another step, dear brother." He called out sternly, exiting into the grand corridor, where the frightened young boy stood frozen to the spot, his loose green top was smeared with mud. "Where have you been, Estel? We were worried."

"I am sorry, Elladan." He whispered. "I do not mean harm-"

"Then why must you scare us so?" He asked sharply. "We cannot cover for you anymore, enough is enough. Where did you go?"

The scared child bit back tears and looked at his feet. "I went to the forest on the borders… I saw the blood once more. I cannot bare it anymore." His voice squeaked, lowering to barely a whisper.

Elladan's face softened and pulled the small boy into a tight embrace. "You are shaking." He whispered anxiously. "Has something else happened?"

He felt Estel stiffen and then shake his head. "It is the cold only."

He lifted Estel into his arms; his wet hair soaked into the elf's clothing, and began to carry his shivering brother down the corridor. Elladan stopped, noticing his twin standing at the end, his face etched with concern.

"You found him." A relieved smile lit up his features.

Elladan looked down to find that Estel had fallen asleep in his arms. "Yes, I am taking him to bed now, before father realises he was gone."

"He is hurt." Elrohir remarked, as his slender finger trailed across Estel's arm.

The raven-haired elf suddenly caught a glimpse of blood soaking through his dark green sleeve. "Forgive me, I had not noticed, we had better take him to father first."

"He is busy."

"What do you mean?"

"Legolas has been injured, not badly thankfully. He was attacked by goblins on his way here." Elrohir explained solemnly.

TBC…