The absence of iron was a blessing. He could lower his defenses a bit and use the magick to learn more about this Dark Place. Well, maybe after a little sleep.

Maclyn wandered over to the bed and laid down. If he was going to be imprisoned, this was better then the dungeons.

It was hazy. Very Hazy. And muter, all pastel. That was one of the clues that made Mac realize this was a dream. And. in the mirk. there was a mirror. How he knew what the glimmer was, he didn't know, but he was drawn towards it.

His reflection was clear: tall, slim, muscled with long curly blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and green cat-slatted eyes. His garb, however, was that he had seen.someone wearing. But the name eluded him.

Then the image shifted.

Standing in front of him was a taller, slimmer elf with long free, straight blonde hair and human eyes.

:Who are you?: His voice echoed with no sound. The other offered a fey grin.

:I'm you.: There was a silence.

:What?:

:And you are me.: Mac gave him a look. He was kinda hot.

And the other stepped out of the mirror.

: You are no longer where you belong.: he gently touched Maclyn's cheek, the feeling as light as a feather or a leaf.

:But you are where you are wanted.loved.: The other elf suddenly looked sad. So sad. Maclyn wanted nothing more then to hug the other, so that's what he did. The other buried his face in Maclyn's hair, nuzzling his neck. Every touch was like fire in his veins.

:Can I kiss you?: The other smiled, and Maclyn leaned forward, gently pushing their lips together. It was like falling down a mountain, like fire and ice, like everything he had every hoped sex.*love* would be. And the other pulled away. :What's your name?: Maclyn asked, panting a bit. The other smiled.

:You know.:

And Maclyn woke up.

Buiaiel sighed as she approached her prince. Her orders had been to make sure he slept: He had passed out earlier that day. She still carried the cool bowl of water with Athelas and the sloth she used to swab his forehead.

The Prince was not doing well.

The 'fadings' as they were called were coming more frequently, and it was taking more and more to bring him out.

{My prince?} She crept forward, sensing something was amiss. And she was right; his eyes were closed. This was bad for one reason: Elves never slept with their eyes closed. It was something reserved for death. {No.} She touched his chest, feeling for a pulse or a heart beat. She found both. -What is going on?- She took off towards the king's chamber. -This is not good.-

-Alright, why am I here? Why am I *dreaming*?- Legolas spun, looking through the haze. It was very muted, very foggy. Very odd. There was also that sad feeling creeping into his chest.

"Arg!" He dropped to his knees, clutching at his heart. And then, he realized, this was a Grief Pang. He was dieing.

His eyes stung with unshed tears , he couldn't shed them, elves couldn't cry. It was something only native to mortals.

:Why are you crying, prince-ling?: Legolas jerked his head up, looking for the sound of the voice. He knew that voice.

:Randir? Where_: He was wrapped in a warm embrace from behind. It was comforting. He felt the warm breath on the back of his neck.

:Shhh. you have to heal. just heal.: The other nuzzled Legolas' neck, one hand smoothing his hair. :Your heart is troubled.: The arm embracing him moved until the other's hand was resting over his heart. The Pangs of Grief softened, eventually dieing away completely. The sadness was still there though.

:Alas, Randir. This comfort is good, but it will return, and I will die.: There was a whispering chuckle, as if the other found this amusing.

:I cannot heal mental wounds, Prince-ling. You have to do that yourself.: Legolas had the distinct impression of the other moving. There was a soft brush of lips against his cheek. :I will be here for you.: The other's presence started to fade, but the warmth did not.

Until he touched his cheek. And felt the moistness of his tears.

{The prince is not doing well. He has taken ill.} Maclyn looked up as he heard the new voice speak. With the sleepless hours (the dreams were just becoming too weird and too hot) he had discovered the link between the thoughts and words. In short, he had taught himself 'Sindarin'.

The statement perked his interest, and he snuck towards the door. {What do you mean?}

{He has been sleeping with his eyes *closed*. Like a *human*. His servant thought he had died.} The voice lowered considerably. {And he has been having Grief Pains.} The shocked silence form the other guard spoke volumes. Mac filed the term away, feeling the importance.

{You mean he's dieing?} A shock passed through Maclyn.

-The prince? He can't be dieing!- There was a jolt of a memory: /A ring, glowing with power, small red stone, fire, the prince, magic./ -The ring. ok, it's magical. That explains the unbalance. Cause all these elves seem to have a little Power. But, dieing? How do pains equal dieing?- There was a loud, incessant knocking on the door. "It's not like I can open it, genius!" There was a chuckle, and the door opened revealing. "Are you Elladan or Elrohir?"

"Elrohir. And I knocked because I wasn't sure you'd be decent." A sly grin passed over his face.

"I doubt that would have stopped you." The grin broadened, confirming that thought. Maclyn tried his hardest to look inconvenienced by the visit. "Well?"

"I can see why the prince is attracted to you." Elrohir said, gently touching the bit of silk Mac had 'kenned' to add a bit of color. He was pointedly ignoring the question. And Maclyn hated to be ignored. He looked closer at the dark-haired elf, and noticed something: Elrohir's eyes were just a shade bluer then his twin's. "You are rather handsome." Maclyn made as if to comment, but Elrohir laughed. "No, I would not act on it. I find most full blood elves to be rather.cold. plus, my tastes run else where."

"You talk as if you're not one." If he wanted to play the game, Mac would show him how it's done.

"I'm not. My father was only a third elf, a third Miar, and a third human. My mother was pure blood. That makes me half." He grinned, and Mac could see the human qualities in the way he smiled. There was no stone faced expression, like all the others. -so he's half human. That's rare. And, he has siblings. Totally not happening with Sidhe.-

Suddenly, Elrohir was directly in front of Maclyn. "I want to know what you did to Legolas." The demand shook Maclyn, catching him off guard. He just stared up at the angry, dark elf, sensing he better speak.

"Uh, nothing. Honestly. Well, I mean, aside from landing on him. But I swear, I didn't do anything!" Maclyn made an expression he hoped looked innocent and apologetic. Elrohir's expression remained unreadable. -Damn that elfness! If he was more human, I wouldn't have to read his mind.-

"Alright. But let me explain what is happening." Elrohir started pacing, making a noise in the back of his throat. "Legolas is dieing. Something happened to him in Lothlorien that made him change. Then, Gandalf came, and the Prince just went mad. Now, he's grieving."

"Grievings not dieing." Elrohir looked like he might strike him. -Ok, now is defiantly not the time for smart-assed remarks.-

"Grieving is the only natural way for an elf to die. The Valar almost destroyed this ability, not allowing full bloods to cry. And, allowing them to die if there are raped. Thus, no grief. But, if an elf gets sad enough. they will simply die. Also, we are not invincible in battle, but we only die from the most grievous of wounds. But, we do not like to fight.. Though, I do believe Fingolfin was the exception." Maclyn just stared blankly at Elrohir, trying to compute what he had said.

He spoke before he realized he was speaking, "Our Kindreds are different then, more so than we thought. My people weep, and in an attack more than half of my home and people were killed including my mother," He looked up at Elrohir. "We are all still there though," He grinned though it was tinged with sadness

"This is beside the point." Elrohir looked as though he might punch something, and Maclyn did NOT want to be that something. "This is not helping the Prince at all! Why did I even come here?" He paused, and Maclyn hear his thoughts loud and clear.

"I do not think my mother would want me to weep for her, nor would she approve of us fighting if there was someone in trouble." He paused and blinked, "In fact I think she would beat me over the head and make lewd insults." His eyes glittered slightly and he looked up again, "Why does he grieve?"

"He grieves because he knows what is happening with him. He also mutters how he felt every thing that died.... he felt it as if it was part of himself." Elrohir sighed, looking down at his hands. "In Helms Deep alone, that would drive an elf to madness. All those children... and humans, elves and Uruk Hai..." He made a fist, trying to control his anger. Maclyn was understandably upset.

"Did no one teach him how to properly shield himself?" His voice was pitched different, incredulous and horrified. Elrohir just stared at him.

"Shield himself? Though an elf is connected with the world, we have never felt more then a pang of loneliness when a creature has died. This is odd, and at such a magnitude." Maclyn held up his hands, palms facing Elrohir, moving them slightly as he sought to explain.

"All of my people are taught to shield themselves from before they can walk, and until they have strength enough to do it on their own their parents do it for them." He sighed. "If we did not our enemies would reach into our minds and drag us down into death with them."

Elrohir remained silent, eventually resuming his pacing. "But Legolas is not your kind. Even I have felt that you are different. This power is far uncommon. Tis only the Ring bearers who experience this." He sat down, looking distressed.

Maclyn considered this, "Yet I do think their is a connection between our kins, the librarian indicated this to me when I was still in the dungeons." -She also indicated that he was in a story book but that was besides the point-, "...Tell me, does he spend much time alone, not just alone but far away from other people as well?" Elrohir nodded, unsure of what to say. Maclyn bit his lip and looked away, "This is new you say? He has never had this.ability before?"

Elrohir shook his head. "This part is new. He is from the Old Bloodline, so his 'magicks' are stronger then ours, but he has never had them at this level. The most he could do was make a cave collapse... and that was only because his sister's life was in danger."

Maclyn's face scrunched up slightly as he thought, "This most certainly does not happen amongst my people, and not on a permanent basis at least. I would suspect that he was using that ring he wears, but he is not, I can tell. In fact I think the ring is restraining him, which is all well and good because he might, would kill himself if he over extends."

Elrohir looked up sharply. "He wears a Ring? no... he cannot... The three Bearers are still alive and in Middle Earth. He cannot be Bearing one."

Maclyn shook his head, "I'm telling you he is wearing a silver ring with a little ruby on it, and it covers in red glow, even you should be able to see *that,*" A pause, "It looks a bit familiar, but," his eyes widened, "It looks like one of the signet rings, but they have iron on them." Elrohir shook his head, now pacing again. "Nooo... no, he cannot.... U ion ya, u ion...ion-uva firn!" [He cannot hold a ring, he cannot. he will die!].

Maclyn started raking his mind, these symptoms sounded familiar. "This does not happen amongst my people, but...Humans, this happens to humans, but earlier in life, and sometimes things like this happen, but..." He trailed off. Elrohir watched him, pleading him with his eyes. His thoughts were clear, Maclyn looked up, "When this happens to humans there are six possible out comes, they shut down their powers in a self defense mechanism, they go mad, they kill themselves, they go mad and then kill themselves, they figure the basics out on their own, or they find a mentor." Maclyn let that sink in.

Elrohir just stared for a moment, before cursing and storming out of the room. Maclyn looked after him, shock evident on his face. "You are coming, are you not?" Elrohir's angry voice threw back at him. Maclyn unsurely followed him out.

"He has a mentor, if he'll have me" Elrohir ignored him. And so he followed Elrohir though the twists and turns of Thranduil's mountain palace.

He found Elrohir along the grand rooms near the top of the mountain. And he was standing outside a door with strange script on the door. Maclyn wouldn't have known who's room it was, save for the fact leaves were etched around the frame. -Doesn't take a brainchild to figure out this is the Prince's room.- And...It was warded--sort of. He had seen better work from self trained Human Mages. He focused on his mage sight, bands of magic, woven together little more than the foundation of any spell, tossed up against the walls, ceiling, floor and door in a whimsical pattern. Elrohir knocked politely on the door and pushed it open.

Maclyn tapped the barrier lightly, amused at the sparks.

A faint 'Come in' was audible in the Elf's native language

"Are you going to invite me as well Banesidhe, or will I have to tear this...thing," he was not even going to dignify the weak lattice with the term 'shield,' "Down? And yes, I can see it." Legolas made a sound, somewhere between a cry or shock and annoyance, but repeated his 'Come in'. And, as if to prove a point, sent a wall of power momentarily keeping Maclyn out.

Maclyn flicked some magic at it, causing it to shudder, near buckle, break and shatter. "Shields aren't decorative, Legolas, they are meant to keep people out, and this one is pathetic. Now let me in, or I'll break it down." Legolas sighed, and, with a flick of his wrist, took down the shield. Elrohir just stared at the two, then the door, then the Two again. And Maclyn walked in. "I can see you put it up in a interesting pattern so I assume that you can see what you do."

The Prince shrugged, and resumed staring at the candle that was lit in the room. Elrohir sighed and muttered something along the lines of 'not again'. Maclyn sighed, "Pay attention to me Legolas. I can show you how to make a proper shield, and how to make one for your mind so you are not forced to feel other's feelings and hear their thoughts." Elrohir looked to the prince to judge his response. there was an absolute lack of one. Maclyn concentrated briefly on the candle and the little flame, even the wick. Nope not enchanted. -Oh well, I can fix that.- He made it flare up as if someone had pouring alcohal on it. Legolas jumped backword, knocking over his chair and tripping over his bed. Not very elf-like either. "Do I have your attention now," he quiered dryly as he buffed his nails on his shirt. ELrohir and Legolas stared at MAc, both looking a bit too stunned to speak. Not to mention Legolas looked like a frightened kitten, all huddled up in the corner, knees against his chest. He rolled his eyes and sat down next to him, slinging an arm around his shoulders, unbothered and not caring about the redish glow about him. "Now don't be like that." Legolas made a sound vaguely like a hiss, and Elrohir paled. "Maclyn... you may want to back away right about now..." /I mean you no harm, neth-ernil,/ he prjected into Legolas along with calming emotions. Legolas stopped, unsure of what was happening, and coked his head to the side, as if trying to listen to the voice. "There are too many voices to hear me properly, aren't there neth-ernil? Watch now." He focused and built a basic geodesic sphear around them. He even put a bit more power into it so even Elrohir could see it. He built it up slowly so Legolas could see it. Shunts and barriars, layers, and power drains. Elrohir yelled something, confused, though Legolas was too intently watching Maclyn to notice. Suddenly, someting in his eyes sparked, and cleared. And He punched Maclyn. And Maclyn bounced off his little shield as he made it to hold out physical things larger than a fly. But his reaction was instinanious, a lash of magic, almost resemebling a balrog's whip came from his hand and struck Legolas back in return. Maclyn regained his feet and flung his hand out power forcing Legolas to stay down, "Rule one, don't attack the teacher." Legolas yelped, but, with a bit more power then Maclyn had expected, broke down the barriar, though he could not more. Elrohir, however, now could, and grabbed Maclyn's shoulders, throwing him clear to the otehr side of the room. Instinct, and too many years on the battle feild led his armor to being summoned and his feet to be under him, another surge of magic and Elrohir was pushed against the wall. He rubbed his nose with his left hand, "Why did you have to punch me?" Legolas muttered something incoherant, glaring at Maclyn with a rather vicious intensity. Maclyn glanced down at himself, noting he was in his armor, which was most likely rather extravagant by the standars of men and elves in this place. But there was powerful magic woven into it to protect him. Elrohir just struggled against the invisible force holding him. [Elladan! We have a problem!] "I do not have to deal with this, I try to help you and you strike me. Go mad for all I care." He shruged and left the room, closing the door and then released the two elves. There was a long silence as Legolas got his bearings, but before Elrohir could objet, he was out the door and then, in front of Maclyn, who was walking away, still in his colorful armor, looking this way and that in a wholely unconserned manner. "Halt, randir." Legolas looked at the other, somewhat confused. "I am sorry i struck you, but i woke up, and i felt trapped.... i am sorry." He looked rather ashamed, and a bit apologetic. Maclyn paused in his meanderings and turned his head to glance at Legolas though one eye, "My call name is Maclyn Arrydywn, not 'Wanderer,' that is a title better suited to you. Now, even if you do not excuse me, I will be leaving this place. Do try not to kill anyone if you don't succede in figureing your powers out on your own." He turned his attention back foreward and walked down the hall away from the prince. LEgolas stood there, shocked. Somethign came to him... something that MAclyn had done. Manipulated his emotions. Legolas focused, sending to the other elf. //You don't want to leave. You have to help me...// somehow, Legolas felt his control slipping, and the demand becoming a plea. //I'm going to die soon... please...// and he stopped, clutching his chest as another Grief Pain hit him hard. He heared him, and ignored him, not even bothering to even thicken his shields. Then he regreted that and gave a cry that was wrenched from his throat and he grabed his chest, falling against the wall. His magic lashed out against Legolas even as a haphazard barriar went up to protect him. Legolas couldn't see Maclyn anymore, there was too much pain... too much, he felt something hit him, but it was insignificant compared to the grief. He looked up, willing someone to appear. And felt strength flow into him. His Father's face came into focus above him. Maclyn could resoun though the pain and decided then and there as soon as he could he was going to thrash Legolas soundly. Using mind weapons was disgusting and dishonnorable outside battle. But, he froze, and looked behind him. The other elf was on the floor, clutching at his heart. And his father was above him. Someghow, Maclyn didn't think this was a mind weapon anymore. But he still hurt, he could feel the tears on his face, though the pang was lessened. -I do believe I am on the verge of passing out.- And Legolas struggled... 'Father...I...' With that last stregth failing him, he felt the darkness take over. And Maclyn followed into blessed blackness.