The door to Legolas' room swung open silently, and someone entered the vicinity, but the young Prince of Mirkwood slept on, oblivious to the new presence. He shifted slightly in his sleep, and the newcomer shrunk back into the shadows, breath held. However, he did not wake.

The moon came out from behind some clouds that it had been hiding behind, and the hidden face was suddenly illuminated. It was Calaen. On silent feet he moved to stand beside the bed. He reached down a slender hand, and gently trailed it down his brother's cheek, smiling cruelly.

"Airëlus has been won over by you. But I will foil his plan," the dark haired Elf murmured. "Just you wait and see."

He snapped his gaze across to the desk, eyes lighting up as he found what he had sought. Next to the book of Dwarven history that Legolas had been studying lay six pieces of neatly written work, along with another piece of parchment covered in scribblings. The rough work looked suspiciously like Airëlus'. Interesting.

Calaen smiled as he picked up the seven pieces of parchment, and tucked them under his tunic. He turned and went over to the door, but just before he left the room, he looked back at Legolas, and shot him a glance of pure hatred.

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A few hours later, Legolas was out of bed, washed, dressed, and ready to go down to breakfast. Still he remained blissfully unaware that Calaen had even set foot in his room the previous night, so when he went over to his desk to get his work for the King, and saw that it was not there, he thought nothing of it. Airëlus had probably come in already, and it was with him.

Legolas pulled a dark green tunic on over his loose blue one, and quickly pulled a brush through his golden hair. Not once did his thoughts stray to the matter of his vanished work.

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Calaen sat at the dining table, drumming his fingers impatiently. Though, the expression on his face was calm. It had to be. He had learnt a long time ago the correct way to act when his father and elder brother spoke about Legolas. It had been far from easy, teaching and disciplining himself to always keep the hatred masked, and the glint from his eye. But he had done it.

"Where is he?" Thranduil muttered. "You would think that, considering the trouble he has already gotten himself into, that he would do his best to try and avoid getting into any more."

"Then, you are still angry with him?" Airëlus asked softly.

The Elven-king paused, but then shrugged lightly. "No. But I am not happy with him, either. Would you be?"

Airëlus was spared from answering that question, by the opening of the oaken doors at the end of the dining hall. Legolas came in and sat down quickly, and although he nodded at his father, he kept his eyes lowered. Calaen sat in silence, watching his brother impassively, but smiling inwardly.

"Did you have something important to attend to, Legolas?" Thranduil asked coldly.

The Prince bit down on his lip, and shook his head. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I was-

"You are here now. It does not matter," Thranduil cut in. He felt a moment's irritation when Legolas did not meet his gaze, but then he realised that his two older children had also looked away.

Airëlus was absentmindedly pulling at the ends of the tablecloth, looking as though his mind was fixed on other matters. Calaen's gaze remained on Legolas, though his eyes had become unfocused – he too was obviously leagues away. The Elven-king coughed lightly, but got no reaction. Again, he coughed, and again, there was nothing. Suddenly, he slammed his hand down onto the tabletop, and three pairs of startled eyes were immediately raised.

"Oh good. I thought for a moment there that all three of you were walking the road of dreams," Thranduil said dryly. He paused, and looked carefully at the Princes. "What is wrong?"

"We are merely tired, that is all," Airëlus replied, shooting a sideways glance at Calaen.

"All three of you?" Thranduil asked.

"I had trouble sleeping last night. It just would not come, for some reason. And of course, Legolas was up late doing that work," Airëlus said. He smiled sympathetically at his youngest brother. "I do not know if he finished it, though."

"I did," Legolas replied.

Thranduil glanced over to see if the servants had begun to bring out food. They hadn't. "It does not look as though we will be eating any time soon. I will have that work now, if it is not too much trouble for you, Legolas."

"It is not," the Prince replied, pushing back his chair. He looked at his eldest brother pointedly, but Airëlus' face remained blank.

"Is something keeping you?" Thranduil sighed.

"No. Sorry," Legolas muttered. He shot the Crown Prince one last look of despair, before turning and leaving the room. How could he possibly bring work that he did not have to the King?

There was silence whilst Legolas left, but as soon as the doors were shut once again, Thranduil rested his arms on the table, and sighed deeply. The cool expression he had previously worn disappeared, and there was great concern on his face. Calaen put a hand on his father's shoulder, and smiled.

"Is everything well, Ada?" he asked.

"You remember that I am leaving for Rivendell tomorrow? I cannot leave. Legolas is….I do not know, but I cannot go whilst he is acting like this," Thranduil replied.

"Why should you be afraid to leave him? Airëlus and I will be here to take care of him," Calaen said. "Besides, you have to go, do you not? I thought that Lord Elrond asked you there for a reason."

Thranduil nodded slowly. "Yes. But Legolas has been behaving so differently these past few days. I do not know why he-

The doors opened suddenly, cutting the Elven-king off mid-sentence. His youngest son entered the dining hall, a look of worry on his face. He had searched his room high and low for the work, but he had found nothing, nothing at all. Thranduil noticed the expression on Legolas' face, and closed his eyes, wondering what could have happened now.

"Ada, may I speak with Airëlus?" the Prince asked softly.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here," Thranduil replied.

Legolas bit down on his lip, and looked at his brother. "Airëlus, did you take my work?"

"You left it on your desk, did you not?" the Crown Prince asked. "Besides, why should I wish to take it?"

"You wouldn't, I suppose. I was just wondering," Legolas sighed.

Thranduil shook his head in irritation. "Never mind about it now. Just sit down, and you can find it later."

"Wait a moment. Was it Dwarven history that you did work on?" Calaen asked suddenly. "I saw that this morning. I will go and get it for you now."

As the dark haired Elf left the dining hall, Airëlus shot his youngest brother an enquiring glance. How and why would Calaen possibly know where it was? There was a tense silence in the room, broken only by the drumming of Thranduil's fingers on the tabletop. Legolas kept his gaze fixed on the doors, his mind spinning wildly as he wondered what Calaen was up to.

The young Prince loved his brother, but he hated him also. He hated him for every taunting word that was said, every cold glare that was sent his way, for every bit of violence that he was subjected to, and for the innocence that Calaen possessed when others around.

But he would never deny that he loved his brother. He did, despite the cruelty and malice. Part of him still held out hope that maybe one day Calaen would change again, and go back to being the loving and gentle Elf that he had once been. But a greater part of Legolas knew that however much he hoped, wished and prayed, nothing would ever change. At least not for the better.

Just as the silence in the room was beginning to feel almost unbearable, the doors at the end of the dining hall opened, and Calaen came back in. He was holding the pieces of parchment, but his face was troubled. Airëlus tensed, immediately suspecting that something was wrong.

"I found Legolas' work, Ada," Calaen said slowly, handing it all to the King. "But there is a problem."

Thranduil looked down at the parchment, and his eyes narrowed as he realised what had been done. "Airëlus, Calaen, I wish to speak with Legolas. Could you give us a few minutes?"

"What has happened now?" the Crown Prince hissed. He turned blazing eyes upon his dark haired brother. "You've done something, haven't you?"

"That is enough," Thranduil snapped. "Just go, both of you."

Airëlus got to his feet, but the look of anger did not leave his face. He shot Calaen one last look of fury as he brushed past him, and stormed out of the main doors. The other Prince turned and left through one of the smaller exits, though he felt incredibly resentful that he could not stay and watch the argument.

"Would you care to explain exactly why you have done this?" Thranduil asked sharply.

Legolas' eyes flickered in surprise. "I do not know what you are talking about, Ada."

The Elven-king sighed, and threw the pieces of parchment down in front of his son. "Firstly, this work was meant for you. If I had wanted Airëlus to write about Dwarves, then I would have told him to. But I digress. His helping you is a small matter. Secondly, you can tell me why you have ripped it all in half."

"Ripped it…but I didn't-

"I do not care!" Thranduil shouted. "All it means is that you cannot go to the archery ground for a week, and that does not affect me at all. But it affects you, Legolas. You knew what the consequences would be if this work was not completed."

"I did complete it," the Prince said. "And I didn't-

"I can see that you completed it," Thranduil replied. "But you ripped it up. Why did you bother writing the whole thing, if you were just going to destroy it as soon as you had finished?"

Legolas picked up a piece of parchment, and drew in a sharp breath as the two halves separated themselves. "Ada, I finished this late last night, and I was so tired that I went straight to bed. I left this work on my desk, and it was not like this then."

"Well, something has happened between last night and this morning," Thranduil snapped.

'Calaen. It was him. He did this,' Legolas thought bitterly.

The Elven-king sighed deeply, and rested a hand on his son's shoulder. "Tell me the truth. That is all I want to know. I am not going to be angry with you, Legolas, whatever happened."

"Why will you not believe me? I did not…." The Prince trailed off as he saw the hopelessness of the situation. He shook his head in defeat. "Yes, I did this."

"What is happening to you?" Thranduil asked. "I do not understand why you have changed so much. Something must have happened to make you like this."

"I have not changed," Legolas muttered.

"I thought you trusted me," Thranduil said softly. "Obviously I was wrong."

Legolas blinked back tears of rage and frustration. Rage at Calaen for causing this, and frustration at the King for not believing him. "I do trust you, Ada. If there was anything to tell you, then you would know about it."

"No. You are shutting me out, Legolas, and that hurts. But I can do nothing about it," Thranduil sighed. He turned, and began walking to the doors. "I was going to leave for Rivendell, but there is a change of plan. I will be leaving today."

Legolas jumped to his feet, and went after his father. "Why now? What difference will leaving a day earlier make?"

"I do not wish to leave at all, but the sooner I go, then the sooner I can come back," Thranduil replied. "I would rather be here than in Rivendell whilst you are going through this."

"Going through….going through what?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"I do not know. But look at what you did to Calaen yesterday. You attacked him without reason. I want to be here if it happens again," Thranduil said. "I will be gone for a few weeks. Hopefully when I come back, the palace will still be as it was when I left it."

Legolas winced at the words. "So, you think that I am going….mad? Is that why you are leaving?"

"Please, do not say that," Thranduil sighed, reaching out and pulling his son to him. "I would have to leave anyway, you know that. I cannot avoid this council. Legolas, I think you are perfectly sane. I just think that you are going through a….a phase, at the moment."

The Prince laughed at that as he pulled away. "A phase? I know full well that there is nothing wrong with me. Maybe if you cared enough, you would also be able to see that. Maybe you would believe me."

"Legolas, you know that I care-

"Do not waste your breath. Just go to Rivendell, if you are going. And do not worry. Your beloved palace will still be here when you get back," Legolas snapped, turning on his heel and leaving the dining hall.

Thranduil opened his mouth to call his son back, but he swiftly decided against it. When the Prince was angry, he tended to stay angry for a very long. Shaking his head, the Elven-king also left the room, to go and inform his councillors that they would be leaving that very day.

He would not bother going to see his children before he left – no doubt Legolas would be with Airëlus, telling him about everything that had happened. Instead, he would ride with all speed to Rivendell, to try and get the council over and done with as quickly as possible.

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Later that day, when the time had come for him to leave, Thranduil was sure that Legolas would be safe with the two elder Princes. As he galloped into the forest on his black mare, the Elven-king did not look back once at the palace. But he should have done. If he had, he would have seen his youngest son running through the main doors; he would have seen the despair on Legolas' face; he would have been told everything; and he would not have left.

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