Disclaimer: Sorry, forgot to put one on the first chapter but I'm sure everyone is completely aware that I don't own any of this. It belongs mostly to Tolkien with the exception of a song, which was written by Brian Flynn I think.

Dedication: this story is dedicated to all my wonderful reviewers, especially those who begged for a sequel to my last story.

Chapter 2

Elrohir galloped out of Imladris ten minutes after receiving his father's news. He was used to departing with short notice, and always had a bag of supplies packed and waiting at his bedroom door. This and his weapons he had grabbed quickly. The longest time had been taken by saddling his horse. With any luck he would run into Aragorn on his way.

As he urged the horse on, he hoped he could beat the record time for reaching Lothlorien. Not that it was time for such amusements, but in this case, beating the record meant getting there and back before Legolas could be expected to arrive.

~+~

Legolas ran swiftly across the plain. Whatever injuries he remembered taking, there were few he could find now besides a cut on one leg and another on the back of his hand. The latter was oddly puckered but didn't hurt so he dismissed it from his mind, hoping only that it wouldn't hamper his shooting. He had been going for about two straight days, now, though he wasn't entirely sure of exacts. But he had gotten some elvish sleep on the run and now was approaching the river.

As he drew up to it, he knelt down to cup some water in his hands. His left one stung strangely for a moment, but that passed and he drank deeply his fill. He had been carrying a packet of Lembas on the unremembered patrol, but his hand had gone automatically to his pocket when he had grown hungry, and he had eaten several bites of it by this time.

So many things puzzled him, but his mind seemed slippery and he could barely grasp the scenery he had so enjoyed on his run. After quenching his thirst, he waded out into the ford and crossed without trouble. Then he started running again, to the Misty Mountains.

~+~

Aragorn rode hard to reach his home. Not that he had not enjoyed his stay in Mirkwood, but he was eager to see his own father again, and tell him the full story of the King and his son. He was in the mountains now, which was the longest part of the journey, both because of the extended trail with the elevation of the land and the very real danger from goblins. Though many had died in the Battle of Five Armies about a decade before, that only made the remaining ones more desperate in revenge.

The man had set out four and a half days earlier and was now facing his first threat in that time. He had reached the foothills in midmorning, and as evening crept behind him, he could hear the muffled signals of the goblins that were watching him. Worse, he was at a disadvantage, for the light of the setting sun was in his eyes. Nevertheless, he drew his bow off his back and set an arrow to the string, determined to bring down as many as possible.

The attack, when it came, was swift, and he barely managed to get off two shots before having to draw his sword and dagger. He fought hard for a half-hour as the sky darkened, and then he heard the thudding of hooves as a horse approached swiftly. Hoping against hope for an ally, he called out in the elvish tongue, breaking his silence for the first time, "Here!"

There was a shout in return, and the whistle of swiftly shot arrows as the ranks of goblins were decimated. Aragorn took advantage of the surprise and killed several more before the creatures decided there was little to be gained and grabbed a few corpses for food as they retreated.

Aragorn remained on guard until he was sure all of them had gone, and then bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. The footsteps of the unknown horse started toward him again after a moment, and the man looked up to see a familiar silhouette. "El!" He exclaimed. He could normally tell the twins apart quite easily, but in the darkness it was rather more difficult.

He watched his brother dismount and quickly distinguished him. "Elrohir. I am glad to see you, muindor. But why are you out here?" Then he added quickly, "I am unhurt."

The twin grimaced. "You may not be, but Legolas is! Sorry, I shouldn't have put it like that. Adar received word from Thranduil that Legolas has blackwater poisoning. I am on my way to Lorien to find one of the ingredients for the antidote."

Aragorn groaned in response, and said, "Why now?" He was surprised to hear a light laugh in answer.

"According to Glorfindel, that is exactly what Adar said. He also said Legolas was last seen leaving Mirkwood coming in this direction on foot."

He anticipated his younger brother's quick reply. "I'll head back the way I came, then, to meet him. I just hope he remembers me. If he doesn't, I'll shadow him. I remember learning about the poison a few years ago and Ada saying it dulls the senses of elves." He mock-glared at Elrohir. "Well, what are you waiting for? I thought you were going to Lorien?"

Aragorn waited while Elrohir mounted and got out of sight before going over to his own horse. He had in fact sustained a few minor injuries, but he knew his brother would have made a big deal out of it if he had found out. He climbed slowly onto the horse's back and turned him back the way they had come before reaching into his saddlebag for the good healing supplies. He always kept some on his person as well, but the bag had more, and had bandages, which wouldn't fit into his small pouch.

Though the horse was in motion, he easily bound his wounds and got partly cleaned up. Then he urged the horse into a faster gait.

~+~

Thranduil stared hopelessly at the stars. He was on Legolas's balcony, clutching a pillow from his son's bed. He had forced himself these past few days to continue his duties as monarch as usual, but his nights he spent out there, remembering all that had happened on that balcony. Though the prince had only been gone a few days, it seemed like years, centuries had gone by, though that was completely opposed to normal elf mentality.

His eyes glazed over and he buried his face into the pillow, which caught his tears. It did not stop them, though, for it bore the scent of his son, causing a bigger lump in his throat.

"You left home a long time ago

But there's something I want you to know

The love of a father will always remain

No matter where you go

There isn't a thing you could do

To prevent me from loving you

You could squander my money my jewels and my land

And still I'd provide for you."

Finally getting control over himself, he stared back up into the sky, and his eye was caught by Earendil, also know as Gil-Estel. His sobs started again and he made no effort to stop them. He had received a gleam of hope, for Estel was one of the names of Legolas's friend. And Elrond and Estel were both descendants of Earendil. He had to believe that there was hope.

"I gaze out into the night

Wond'ring if you are alright

If you're fed and clothed and taken care

Or if you're scared and full of fright

Perhaps you think what you've done

Makes you unworthy to be my son

Just remember the love of your father remains

And if you could hear me I'd say,

Please come home to the house of your father

I am watching the road

I am praying that you will return

For I am missing you so

There's so much I am wanting to tell you

So much I have to give you

I am waiting for you to come home

To let you know I love you."

His head finally drooped in exhaustion and his eyes fell almost completely shut. It was the first time he had fallen asleep since he heard the news.

~+~

Legolas's door opened silently in an eerie echo of earlier events. The elf that entered this time, though, was young, around the prince's age. He was in fact the same scout who had brought the news about seeing Legolas leave Mirkwood. He had always admired the king's son and wanted to befriend him, but had been rebuffed by the prince's indifference.

That had all changed a couple of weeks earlier when he had seen the first real smile on Legolas's face. He had immediately responded by making tentative overtures of friendship. The response had been fantastic, though he hadn't managed to spend much time with his new friend. However, Aragorn had drawn him aside at one point shortly before leaving and had asked him to keep a close eye on the two royals. He hadn't explained much, saying it wasn't his story to tell, but he had implied a great deal.

With all of this in mind, he crept into the prince's bedchamber. He had seen the king enter not so long ago and was justifiably worried, especially when he caught sight of where Thranduil was sitting. The king's glow had dimmed considerably and he was sound asleep sitting on cold stone.

The scout took a blanket and laid it around the liege's shoulders, covering him as best he could. The king turned his head slightly from where it was propped on the pillow. His face was tearstained and he muttered in his sleep, asking questions and answering them.

"But why can't I go after Legolas? He's my son." "But he doesn't believe you love him. He will be spooked and run harder." "Surely I can convince him of my love?" "He is your son. You know how stubborn he is." "But…" "Elrond will take care of him. He will surely restore his memory and then send for you." He gave a deep sigh and started tilting sideways. The scout immediately reached out gentle hands and lowered him to lie down. Then on second thought, he gathered the king into his arms like a child and placed him on the bed. He then made to leave, but his hand was caught by that of the still sleeping elf.

Giving in to the inevitable, he sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the king's hand. With his other he stroked the anguished father's hair and fell asleep propped against the headboard.