Calaen stood silently in the shadows, watching his victim impassively. After Legolas had lost consciousness, he had been carried into his own room, and tied up. He lay still, wrists bound above his head to the bedposts. Three hours had passed since he had last been awake, and his elder brother was becoming impatient.

"Wake up," Calaen murmured, taking a few steps forwards.

He sat down in a chair next to the bed, and from his pocket, pulled out the cloth that he had used to push the younger Prince into darkness. Though, maybe he had pushed him too far. The herb covering the cloth was used a sedative, and although it had caused Legolas no pain, it had been enough to knock him out for a good while.

Calaen threw the cloth onto the desk and leaned forward, sighing deeply. He rested his head in his hands for a moment, before reaching out and touching his brother's forehead. "Not long now," he said softly. Legolas' temperature had risen drastically to start off with – an effect of the herb – but now it was almost back to normal.

The golden haired Prince stirred slightly, a shadow of fear passing over his face. He was beginning to come out of darkness, and already he could sense that something was not right. He felt something digging into his wrists, and a smooth hand resting on his forehead. He did not like it. Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and he quickly tried to sit up. But he drew in a sharp breath as realisation dawned that he was bound.

"Calm yourself. Why do you always want to rush off somewhere?" Calaen asked softly.

"You," Legolas hissed, trying to sit up again. "You lied to me."

The older Prince rolled his eyes at that. "Nice observation there. Yes, I lied to you, and you fell for it. You have only yourself to blame for that."

"This is not happening. This is all just some…some evil joke that you are playing on me," Legolas said slowly, scanning the room anxiously. "I will not believe that this is real."

"You should. You did not believe me when I told you that Airëlus had gone," Calaen reminded his brother. "I spoke truly, did I not? And I speak the truth now: this is no joke."

"Valar help me," Legolas breathed.

Calaen let out a low laugh and gently stroked the younger Elf's hair, causing him to recoil in fear and disgust. "You can pray to the Valar as much as you want, little brother. You can shout for Airëlus, and you can scream for Ada. But no-one will come. No-one will hear your cries of pain."

"No," Legolas whispered, struggling against the bonds.

"You fight a losing battle. You should give up now, because the only way that you will be free, is if I choose to free you myself. But I cannot see that happening," Calaen smiled. "Stop struggling, Legolas."

The golden haired Prince shook his head defiantly and continued in his quest for freedom. He pulled at the restraints, but there was nothing he could do. He was tied with strong Elven rope, and the only thing that he did was cause the bonds to tighten as he moved. But he would not give up.

"Stop struggling," Calaen repeated, his eyes flashing. When Legolas paid no attention to his order, he lunged forwards and struck him across the side of the face. It was over a trivial matter, but not being listened to made him angry, very angry.

Legolas grimaced, but showed no other signs of discomfort. He looked up at Calaen, and glared at him furiously. "I believed you. Every single word that came out of your mouth was a lie, and I believed them all."

"That is because you are a fool," Calaen said carelessly.

"You cannot keep me here, tied up," Legolas hissed. "Ada has not gone for very long. He will be back soon, as will Airëlus."

Calaen nodded slowly. He had not thought about that. He had been so caught up in his own twisted plans, that the matter of his father and elder brother had entirely escaped his mind. He bit his lip anxiously as he threw his eyes down to meet his captive's. But then a thoughtful expression crossed his face, and he smiled.

"What now?" Legolas asked warily.

"I have no more than a week with you," Calaen replied. "I do not want to kill you. Not straight away, at least. You will die eventually, though. When you are dead, I will bury your body in the forest. Ada and Airëlus need never know."

"I think they will notice that I am gone," Legolas said coldly.

"I meant they need not know that it was me who killed you," Calaen snapped.

The young Prince closed his eyes in despair. "If you are going to kill me, then why not do it now? Why not just get it over and done with?" he asked slowly.

"There is no fun in that," Calaen said brightly, happier now that he had sorted his plans.

"I have spent so many years knowing that you hated me, but never did I imagine that…" Legolas shook his head angrily. "You are sick, you are evil, and you are twisted."

Calaen inclined his head, and smiled. "I am glad that you think that. You have no idea how frustrating it is, having to hide yourself. For nearly my whole life, I have had to push my true colours away so that no-one would ever see who I really am. I have been waiting for this day for so long. If I was found out, then all chances of killing you would be gone."

"Tragic," Legolas snapped. He sighed deeply as he locked eyes with his brother. "Calaen, you do not need to do this."

"Do not tell me what I need to do!" the dark haired Elf hissed. He jumped to his feet and grabbed a pewter candle holder from the desk, eyes flashing in a moment of anger. "You think yourself to be better than me."

"I never said that," Legolas replied, trying not to look at the flickering flame. "I-

In one swift movement, Calaen was standing at the top of the bed, holding the candle close to his brother's cheek. "You had no need to speak the words, for it is written all over your face. But how would you like me to write something different on that pretty little face of yours?"

"Calaen-

"Shut up!" the Prince screamed, spinning around and slamming the candle holder back down onto the desk. He turned on Legolas and threw his fist into his stomach, each assault worse than the last. Although, it was not until the fourth blow that the victim cried out.

"Please-

"You did not like that, did you?" Calaen said dangerously. "If you think that is bad, then you should start preparing yourself for what is to come."

Legolas' eyes flickered in fear, and he drew his knees up to his chest to try and calm the burning pain in his ribs. Without warning, Calaen suddenly pulled a knife from his belt, and held it between his brother's wrists. The golden haired Elf started struggling again, as he felt the cold blade against his skin.

"Stop that," Calaen ordered. Legolas shook his head and continued trying to pull himself away. "I do not like having to say things twice."

"You cannot keep me here," the captive spat. He was quickly silenced by a fist being thrown into his face, and he winced as he felt his lip being split under the pressure.

Calaen leaned down and grabbed Legolas' chin, forcing him to look up. "I told you to stop struggling. If you do not listen to me, then I may have to reconsider my decision to untie you. It is up to you. Either you calm down and I cut the ties, or you carry on like this and your wrists remain bound. Choose." When the younger Elf lay still, Calaen nodded. "I take that to mean you choose the first option."

The dark haired Prince released his brother, and began cutting the rope. As that was being done, Legolas scanned the room quickly, searching for anything that he could possibly use to help himself. There was not very much. But as he looked, his eyes fell on the door, and he wondered what his chances of escape were.

"Do not even think about it," Calaen said softly, looking up from his task and following his brother's gaze. "You would not have got very far anyway – I locked it."

Legolas instantly looked towards the balcony door, but his captor laughed. "Also locked. Did you honestly think I would be so stupid as to forget something like that? No, you are staying in here. And I would get used to it if I were you. After all, these four walls are all that you'll be seeing for the last week of your life."

As the ropes around Legolas' wrists fell away, he jumped to his feet. The pain in his ribs caused him to stumble slightly, but he caught his balance. "Why did you untie me?" he asked slowly.

"Oh, I am not entirely cruel at heart," Calaen replied, taking the candle once more from the desk, and stepping closer to his brother. "Would it not be just a little unfair for me to have complete power over you? You see..." He trailed off, and a look of excitement crossed his face. "Yes, that is it."

"What do you have planned?" Legolas asked in a hushed voice.

"It would not be a surprise if I were to tell you. But do not worry. You will find out in a while. Besides, good things come to those who wait. Well, maybe not to you." Calaen smirked as he took another step forwards.

Legolas' eyes flashed, catching the light of the burning flame. "Tell me! If you are going to do something to me, then all I ask is that I know what it is. Please, you are going to torture me enough."

"You read my mind," Calaen laughed. He locked eyes with his younger brother for a brief moment, before lunging out and grabbing him by the wrist. He pulled him close, and held the candle just next to his arm.

Legolas closed his eyes as he felt the heat through his tunic sleeve. "Do not do this," he said softly.

"There is nothing that you can say which will change my mind," Calaen said coldly. And then without a moment's hesitation, he pushed the candle flame against his brother's arm, gripping him tightly to hold him in place.

Terror flashed through Legolas' silver eyes, and he cried out in pain as the fire burned away at his skin. He tried to hit Calaen's hand away, but the intensity of the heat shocked him so much that he instantly dropped his arm back to his side. As quickly as he had started though, the dark haired Elf moved the candle away.

"Are you well, Legolas?" he asked, feigning concern. "You have gone somewhat pale."

The younger Prince closed his eyes and stepped back, stumbling slightly. His head was spinning. He would have fallen if not for his brother's tight grip on his wrist. Calaen knew this, but he took no pity - he let go of him and pushed him roughly away. He sank down to the floor and cradled his injured arm against his chest.

"You disgust me," the dark haired Elf spat. "Do you know why you disgust me? Because you are weak. You are cowardly, pathetic and weak. You are a disgrace to this family, and always have been. Even when you are long dead, Elves will shudder to mention your name inside the palace walls."

"Don't," Legolas whispered.

"I'm so sorry," Calaen said sarcastically. He knelt down next to the injured Elf, and grabbed some golden hair in his fist. "Is the truth too much for precious little Legolas to hear?"

The younger Prince closed his eyes tightly, in the hope that both the pain and the words would be blocked. Also, he refused to show his brother that he was hurting. That was what this was all about – trying to hurt him. Well, he would not give Calaen the satisfaction. But suddenly, without warning he was dragged to his feet, pulled by his hair, and he could not help crying out.

"You need help to do everything. You cannot even stand on your own," Calaen muttered, as Legolas swayed slightly on the spot. "Alright, I think we should play a game. What say you?"

The Prince straightened up and narrowed his eyes. "Yes, we will play one of your games. I do not know what it is, but I know that I will not let you win."

"Admirable sentiments," Calaen nodded. "So, this game that I have prepared is called 'Guess the Word'. Do you know how to play it?" He spoke as though he were an adult explaining something exciting to a child.

"Unfortunately, no," Legolas replied. "Are you going to enlighten me?"

"Most certainly," Calaen said, inclining his head. He reached into his pocket and drew out an arrow, smiling as he twirled it in his fingers. "Now, I will think of a word and draw it in the air, and you must guess what it is."

Legolas relaxed slightly, though he could not quite understand what point there was to this exercise. It sounded very much like a game that he used to play as an Elfling with his eldest brother. Airëlus would write a word in the air, and if the child could not guess correctly, then he would be tickled mercilessly.

He smiled briefly at the memory, but it quickly faded as he realised with a horrible jolt what Calaen's intentions were. "Valar…" he breathed.

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