Elrond Peredhil, the Noldor Lord of Rivendell, shot Thranduil a sympathetic glance, as he sighed deeply and ran his hands anxiously through his hair for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. The Elven-king had left Mirkwood four days back, and was impatiently waiting to get back there. He wondered how his children were faring.
"What troubles you?"
Thranduil started, and snapped his eyes across to meet Elrond's. "What? Oh, nothing. It is just a small problem that I may be making too much out of. But…oh, I may as well tell you. It is Legolas."
"Go on," Elrond said, unable to keep the concern from his voice. "What is wrong with him?"
"I do not know. But he has changed, and not for the better. Did I tell you that he attacked Calaen the other day?" Thranduil replied. "And then he did some work for me, only to rip it up upon finishing."
Elrond arched an eyebrow, surprised. "Indeed? That is strange. Legolas does not resort to violence. And as for the ripping of his work…well, there is no sense to that."
"I know. Like I said, I may be making too much out of something trivial," Thranduil sighed. "This never happened with Calaen and Airëlus. And, what of the twins? Did you ever have problems? And with Estel? He is Legolas' age."
"Well, you know what Elladan and Elrohir are like. They have always caused trouble," Elrond replied, looking out of the window to where his three sons were quite clearly plotting another joke.
"That may be so, but all they do is play irritating tricks on unsuspecting Elves. They have never hurt anyone," Thranduil said.
"I have never had any real problems with Estel. He has his faults, but, who does not?" Elrond replied.
"If something is troubling Legolas, then I would have him tell me," the Elven-king said vehemently. "When I questioned his trust in me, he said that he still does trust me. But if that is so, then why would he hide anything from me?"
Elrond shook his head slowly. "Maybe he…maybe he feels threatened by something. Or someone. Maybe he is afraid."
"But who would he feel threatened by?" Thranduil snapped. "Children have no enemies. Besides, I can think of no-one who would wish to hurt him."
"No, but he has told you nothing, so you cannot know," Elrond said softly. He paused, as his sharp hearing caught the sound of hoofbeats not far away. Then he smiled, and turned back to the King. "You are worried about Legolas, I see that. You should return to Mirkwood."
"But what about…?"
"Do not worry about the meeting, we can hold it without you being here," Elrond replied. "Besides, you would be of little help to us. Glorfindel tried to hold a conversation with you earlier, but he would have got more response if he had talked to the door."
"I am sorry," Thranduil said, smiling vaguely. "I greatly appreciate your offer, but are you sure you can do without me?"
Elrond nodded, but did not reply verbally. A horse had just clattered into the courtyard, and he glanced out of the window, intrigued as to who the newcomer was. As the rider jumped to the ground, the Elven-lord visibly started. But he regained his composure, and turned back to the other Elf.
"Is there a problem?" Thranduil asked mildly.
"No. No problem at all," Elrond replied. "I am merely interested to know why one of your children is in Rivendell instead of Mirkwood."
"What?" The King made to rise to his feet, but the elder Elf waved him back down.
"It is Airëlus. He will be here soon enough," Elrond said. "He saw me at the window."
Sure enough, no sooner had he said that, the door swung open, and the Crown Prince of Mirkwood ran into the room. He looked as though he had been riding for days without stopping, and as he was embraced by his father, he leaned against him for a moment, using the other's body as a support.
"What is it? What has happened?" Thranduil asked softly.
"Calaen," Airëlus breathed. "He fell down a flight of stairs, but he claims to have been pushed by Legolas. Ada, you must come home."
The Elven-king's eyes widened in shock, as he tried to take in what he had just been told. His youngest child would never do that. He would not believe it. Yet, he could not doubt Airëlus' words. He shook his head and turned away, mind spinning wildly with muddled thoughts and emotions.
"Ada, please," Airëlus said desperately, mistaking the gesture as a refusal to return to Mirkwood. "We need you there. I cannot cope on my own, for I no longer know what to do. Calaen claims that he was pushed, but Legolas protests his innocence. I do not know who to believe."
"We will leave now," Thranduil replied.
"If you need me at any time, then all you need to do is send me a message," Elrond told the other two Elves. "I will come straight away. Airëlus, your horse must be tired. Take one of the twins'. They will not mind."
Airëlus inclined his head as a way of thanks, waiting impatiently while Thranduil pulled on his cloak. Grabbing his bow and quiver of arrows from the side of the room, the Elven-king shot Elrond a last grateful look, before turning on his heel and swiftly leaving the room. His son was not far behind.
The Lord of Rivendell closed his eyes briefly. That family had been through enough. It seemed never-ending for them. "May the Valar watch over you all," he murmured.
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Legolas' eyes snapped open, and he started as he realised that he still could see nothing. Realising that he was blindfolded, he relaxed slightly – at least his vision was not slighted for any other reason. He tried to move, but found that once again he was tied, and unable to get free. As he struggled slightly, a pain shot through his stomach, and he grimaced as he felt a sticky substance on his body. He knew what it was.
"Ah, you have finally awakened."
The Prince snapped his head to the side at the soft words, realising too late that he would be unable to see who had spoken. But of course, there was no need for him to lay eyes on them. Who else would it be but Calaen? If there was anyone who could save him, then he would be free by now. But he was not. He wondered if he would ever be free.
"How long have I been unconscious?" Legolas asked in a low voice.
"Two days," Calaen replied. "It was getting rather tiresome, as I did not know whether you would wake up in time. In fact, I did not know whether you would wake at all."
"In time for what?" Legolas asked. 'Please, no more torture. Just let him kill me now and get it over with,' he thought.
Calaen laughed softly to himself. "Fear not. I will not hurt you. At least, not yet. The pain will come eventually, but now I want you to listen to me. There are things that you should hear. You must know why I have done this."
"It would be nice," Legolas replied.
"I was going to tell you just before your death. But then I was struck with a horrible idea: you might die before I got around to telling you. So you must find out now, just in case." Calaen smiled, leaving the sentence hanging.
"Go on," Legolas said softly.
"Have you ever wondered at the fact that my appearance is different to yours?" Calaen asked.
"Of course not. We are not twins, so why should we look the same?" the golden haired Prince replied.
"But I am the only one in the whole family who has dark hair and green eyes. Airëlus looks a lot like Naneth, and you look a lot like Ada. You have his hair, and his eyes. Airëlus has Naneth's hair and eyes. But me? What do I have?" Calaen questioned.
Legolas blinked in surprise – he had never thought about it before. But his brother was right. "So that is why you are doing this to me? You are jealous because of the differences in our appearances?"
"Be silent!" Calaen snapped. "I am doing the talking, not you!"
"Alright," Legolas said quickly. "Alright."
The dark haired Prince sighed deeply. "Years ago, I went down to Ada's study one morning, because I had to return a book that I had finished reading. I was about to push open the door, but when I heard my name mentioned, I stopped. The one talking was Airëlus, and he spoke of hearing rumours around the campfire whilst on patrol. Do you know what rumours those would be?"
"No," Legolas said softly.
"They were rumours about my parentage," Calaen replied. His voice was cold, but there was a noticeable hint of sadness in it. "Airëlus questioned this, and…and do you know what he was told?"
Legolas shook his head slowly. "No."
Calaen drew in a deep breath to try and calm himself. "I had to stand in the shadows and listen whilst Airëlus was told that I am not his brother. I am only a half brother to both of you."
"That is not true," Legolas said. "How can it be?"
"Shut up!" Calaen shouted, slamming a fist against the wall. He ran a hand through his dark hair and got to his feet, only to begin pacing up and down in front of the bed. "Thranduil is not my father by blood. I am the son of a mortal man."
Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was overcome by both shock and disbelief, and he shook his head slowly, trying to understand what he had been told. Calaen was…Thranduil was not…a human? But how could…? No, it was not possible. He refused to believe it.
"Do you believe me?" Calaen asked softly.
Legolas exhaled deeply, wondering how to answer. "I…I do not know. I mean, it does not make sense. You are my brother."
"No. I am only your half brother, and the fact that my blood father is a mortal, makes me half Elven," Calaen replied. "It is up to you if you believe me or not, but I know that I tell the truth. When Airëlus was but an Elfling, a man came to Mirkwood. He was injured, so he was allowed to stay in the palace. After a few months, he was still here. He and Naneth…"
"No," Legolas breathed. "She would not do that."
"She did. You can even ask Ada when he arrives," Calaen replied. He smiled vaguely as he realised what he had just said. "Sorry. I forgot that you will not be here then. But take my word for it: Naneth and this human lay together."
Legolas shook his head, blinking back hot tears. "But she was not like that. How can you say such things? I will not believe it."
"That is your choice," Calaen sighed. "When Ada found out what had happened, he banished the man from Mirkwood – or Greenwood, as it was then – under pain of death. But one night, he was found still in the forest. Despite being banished, he had not left."
"What happened then?" Legolas asked.
"The man was executed. Naneth found that she was with child. Ada accepted what had happened," Calaen said shortly. "I am grateful to him for that."
"But who was this man?" Legolas pressed.
"His name was Deorfel. That is all that I know, and all that I wish to know," the dark haired Prince replied. "One would expect Thranduil to get rid of me. It would make sense, me not being his son by blood. But he has not."
Legolas bit down on his lip, and shifted restlessly in the bonds he was still held in. "But I still do not understand why you should want to do this to me."
"Surely you can understand now?" Calaen asked. "This is not just about Naneth. No, it is because I am the blood son of a human, and you are not. They love you more than me, Legolas. How can you not see that?"
"Because there is nothing to see," the younger Prince said slowly.
"No. No, that is where you are wrong." Calaen shook his head violently. "Airëlus has always made Ada proud. He commands a troop of Mirkwood's finest warriors, our people look up to and respect him, he is a perfect Crown Prince. And you…you are the youngest out of all of us, Ada's little Greenleaf, his golden child. What am I? Answer me that!"
"You are his son," Legolas replied. "He is proud of you, that I see."
"No. I am nothing!" Calaen spat.
The bound Elf closed his eyes behind the blindfold. "I am sorry. I did not know that you felt like this."
"Sorry? You are sorry? Oh, that just makes me feel a whole lot better. Do you think that 'sorry' makes everything alright?" Calaen demanded. "Well, you will be sorry. Soon enough."
Legolas grimaced and shook his head sadly as he heard his captor storm from the room. The dark haired Elf was angry, and when he got angry, it was the youngest Prince of Mirkwood who he vented his rage on. What pain he felt always had to be inflicted on his brother.
Legolas knew that his time was running out…
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