"Are you sure of this?" Lord Elrond demanded.

After being unceremoniously woken by his sons, he had quickly changed into day clothes, as had the twins, for they all wanted to be prepared, should the need arise to leave. The three of them were, at that moment in time, in the study – Elrond sat behind his desk, and Elrohir was leaning against the wall, watching his brother pacing up and down.

"Of course I am sure," Elladan snapped. "Since I woke, I have not once doubted what I saw. If I did, then I would not have kept Elrohir awake, and I most certainly would not have come to you. Ada, believe me when I say that Legolas is in trouble."

"I do believe you," Elrond replied. "I do."

Elrohir reached out and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, to stop him from pacing. "Both of us have full faith and belief in whatever you say." He flashed Elladan a brief smile, before turning to their father. "Ada, what are we going to do?"

Elrond shook himself out of reverie, and snapped his eyes across to meet Elrohir's. "Forgive me, I was deep in thought. It seems as though there is only one thing that we can do. We ride to Mirkwood. Now."

"Mirkwood? Now?" Elladan asked, surprised at the Elven-lord's quick solution. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," Elrond replied. He pushed back his chair and went to a cupboard at the side of the room. "As Elrohir just said, we have full faith and belief in whatever you tell us. Besides, what sort of father would I be if I did not listen to my son?"

"Thank you," Elladan said quietly.

Lord Elrond shook his head and smiled gently. "Do not thank me yet. If we get to Mirkwood and it transpires that all is well, then you can thank me for my trust in you."

"Fair enough. But what about Estel? He would hate to be left behind," Elladan said, watching as his father began pulling various jars and phials of medicine from the cupboard. "And you know how close he and Legolas are."

"Are you sure that all of this will be needed?" Elrohir asked, studying each type of medicine as he put them into a pack.

Elrond nodded as he took out one last jar. "We do not know what ails Legolas, so we must take as much as possible."

"Excuse me, Ada. Either you consider Elrohir's question to be of greater importance than mine, or you are just avoiding giving me an answer," Elladan said. "What about Estel?"

"He would not wish to stay behind," Elrond sighed, pulling on a travelling cloak.

"That is true. Can you imagine what he would feel like if something happened to Legolas and he was not there?" Elrohir said. "I think we should-

The door to the study opened, and the aforementioned young man entered the room. He took in the packs on the desk, and the travelling cloaks that his foster family wore, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he turned them upon Elrond. He tilted his head to the side, silently asking what was happening.

The Elven-lord sighed deeply. "There is something that you must know, Estel."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

King Thranduil leaned forwards in anticipation as his son's eyes fluttered briefly. It was almost two days since Airëlus and his group of riders had left, and the youngest Prince of Mirkwood had shown no signs of awakening. Now though, things were starting to look slightly more hopeful. But only slightly. Legolas' fingers flexed and curled around the silk sheets that had been put over him. His head turned lightly to the side, and rested on his shoulder.

"Please wake up," Thranduil whispered, reaching out and tenderly stroking his child's hair. He held his breath as the Prince turned his head back the other way and ever so slowly opened his eyes.

"Ada…"

"Oh Legolas, you worried me," Thranduil breathed.

"Did I?" The younger Elf's voice was dull, and there was no life to it.

The Elven-king looked into his son's eyes, trying to ignore the fact that the usually bright silver orbs were without their sparkle. "Of course you did. I live in constant worry for you."

Legolas nodded slowly, and lowered his eyes. It was strange. His back and chest wounds tingled slightly, but there was very little pain. It was his heart that hurt. It felt as though it had been ripped out of his body, torn in two, and stamped on by all the Orcs of Mordor. He shuddered at the feeling, and looked away.

"Do you want something to drink?" Thranduil asked softly. When all he got as a reply was a slight shrug of the shoulders, he exhaled deeply and went across to a table at the side of the room. As he poured some water, he subtly studied the ill Elf's movements and expressions. He was not calmed.

Legolas was staring up at the ceiling, blinking only occasionally. He slowly drummed the fingers of his right hand on the bed, whilst his left hand lay motionless at his side. His face, which was usually so full of life, was devoid of colour and expression. The Elven-king closed his eyes in despair – he hated seeing his child in such a condition.

"You have been crying."

Thranduil took the cup of water over to his son, and pressed it into his hand. "Yes. I cried for a while. Like I said, I was worried about you. But I see that there was no need for me to be so concerned. You are awake now." As he spoke, he watched closely for a reaction. None came.

Without replying, Legolas took a sip of the water, but as soon as it hit the back of his throat, he grimaced, and put the cup on the bedside table. "I had a dream," he said suddenly.

"Did you?" Thranduil asked. "What did you dream of?"

"Nothing specific," Legolas replied. "There were lots of different things. I saw myself as an Elfling, and I was playing with Calaen and Airëlus. We were all happy, laughing. Calaen picked me up and swung me around, and he was careful not to hurt me."

Thranduil nodded slowly, a brief smile gracing his features. "You and he used to be close."

"I know," Legolas said distantly.

Begin Flashback

Calaen paused outside his younger brother's door, and listened for a moment. It was late, and he had just been on the way to bed, but when he had heard sobs coming from Legolas' room, he had immediately been stopped in his tracks. He hated knowing that the Elfling was upset – it physically hurt him.

"Greenleaf, what is it?" Calaen asked, as he pushed the door open. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Legolas started, and raised his head. "Cal! Cal, there were big things. They were horrible and black and big. They were chasing me, and then they…they got me," he sobbed.

The dark haired Elf sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled his brother into his arms. "No, they were not chasing you. It was only a dream. Besides, nothing can get you whilst I am here."

"Don't tell Ada and Nana about this," Legolas whispered into the elder Prince's chest.

"Why not? I think that they would want to know that you are upset," Calaen said. Tightening his grip on his brother, he swung his legs up onto the bed, and lay back against the pillows.

"But I don't want them to think that I'm silly," Legolas muttered.

Calaen smiled, and leaned back so that he could look into the Elfling's eyes. "They would not think that you are silly. Why should they? There is nothing silly about having a nightmare. I had one just the other week."

"But you didn't cry about it," Legolas sniffed.

"No, but you are only little," Calaen replied.

The child looked into his brother's green eyes, and smiled. "When I'm older, I want to be like you. I think that you're brave, Cal."

"What about Airëlus? Do you not think that he is brave?" the dark haired Elf asked.

"Well, yes. Yes, he is brave. But I don't know if he cries when he has nightmares," Legolas said, leaning into his older brother and snuggling against him as he was taken once more by sleep.

End Flashback

"I still wonder why he turned against me," Legolas said slowly. "At least, I know his reasons, but I don't know why it had to happen to us."

"Had you finished telling me about your dream, or was there more?" Thranduil was desperate not to have his son become – if possible – even more unhappy.

"Yes, there was more," Legolas replied. "After I saw myself playing with Calaen, everything went dark, and we were suddenly in front of the tree that Naneth fell from. I felt as though I was in his mind."

"If this is painful for you to speak of, then-

"I want to," Legolas cut in. "In the months after Naneth died, Calaen was filled with great hatred for me. It never went away, and as each day passed, his anger grew. It was a strange dream, because not only could I see into his mind, but I could also see into your mind. And Airëlus'."

"What were we thinking?"

Legolas shrugged lightly. "Nothing bad."

Does that not then tell you something?" Thranduil asked softly.

"It tells me nothing. If anything, it only leaves me more confused than I already was," Legolas replied. "I am not happy here, and I want to leave. If I reach the Halls of Mandos, then I will be content, for I will be free from all of this."

Thranduil shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes. "Please, you must know that neither Airëlus nor I would ever do anything such as what you think we have done in the past few days. You cannot leave me. I love you more than life itself, Greenleaf."

I have not been called that for a long time," Legolas murmured. "You used to call me that when I was a child."

"You still are a child," Thranduil whispered.

"When I pass on, I will see Naneth," the Prince said softly. "We will be re-united in death."

That was too much for the usually strong Elven-king. He bowed his head as the tears finally escaped from his eyes. "But is this really what you want? Do you really want to pass on?"

"I don't know," Legolas said quietly. "But I think that dying is better than staying here. Ada, I do not want you to grieve for me. From the depths within my past is the story with no happy ending. If I stay, then I know that there will be many more sad endings."

As he finished speaking, a shadow crossed the young Prince's face, and he drew in a sharp breath. "Ada, this is it. I'm sorry…"

"No," Thranduil breathed, pulling his son up by the shoulders. "Please, do not leave me. Do not go where I cannot."

"I never meant to…" Legolas coughed, fighting to get his breath back. "Ada, I never meant to…I know that you didn't…"

"Peace, Legolas," Thranduil whispered. "Be at peace."

A mist floated through the Prince's once bright eyes, and he went limp in the Elven-king's hold. His head fell back, golden hair cascading over his father's arms. And as he took his final breath, his eyes closed for the last time.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....