Airëlus stared into his brother's eyes for only a moment, before making a noise of anger and swinging his arm up to defend himself. Calaen merely laughed, and caught the Crown Prince's wrist in a vice like grip. His green orbs twinkled, as though the whole situation amused him.

"You were always the strongest, weren't you? Not any more," he sneered. "Let me guess. You are going back to Ada and Legolas. Speaking of which, how is the little brat from the depths of Mordor?"

"Don't you dare insult my brother!" Airëlus hissed.

Calaen arched an eyebrow, and smiled. "Your brother? That's funny, because the last I heard, he was my brother too."

"You have no idea what you have done to him! He is fading! I would have been able to forgive you for all the rest of it, but not this," Airëlus said in a low voice. "You mean nothing to us any more. You are no longer part of our family."

Calaen raised his fist, and threw it into his brother's face. "You will hold your tongue or pay the consequences! And they will be severe, trust me."

"I will not let you touch me," Airëlus hissed, bringing up his knees and slamming them into the other Elf's chest. He was weary, but he would not let himself be beaten.

The dark haired Prince flew backwards, hitting his head as he landed against the trunk of a tree. "You will regret that," he muttered. Faster than lightning, he pulled a knife from his belt and threw it across the clearing. His aim was true: the blade embedded itself in Airëlus' shoulder.

"You are a coward," the Crown Prince said softly, his eyes flickering. "First of all you drive Legolas almost to death, because you knew that he would not fight you. And now you throw that knife at long distance, because you are afraid to fight in close combat."

"You call me a coward, but I cannot see how that is true," Calaen said. "It is your good self and Ada who are the cowards."

"How did you work that out?" Airëlus snapped, raising a hand and holding it to his shoulder.

"I was able to give precious little Legolas what he should have been given by all of us since the day that he was born," Calaen replied. "But no, I was the only one with courage enough to do it."

Airëlus shook his head sadly at the words. "You used to love him so much. What changed?"

"I did," Calaen said shortly. He shook himself mentally – he did not want to venture into that territory. "You know, I never wanted to hurt you. But unfortunately, your arrival at the palace interrupted Legolas and I. He was going to die, but you stopped that. Now you must pay the price. You must die."

Airëlus laughed derisively. "I must die? Who are you fooling, Calaen? You will not kill me. And even if you found the courage within you to do so, I would fight you to the very end. No, you would not kill me."

"I really would," the dark haired Elf said calmly. "However, I am willing to come to a compromise."

"What would that be?" Airëlus spat.

Calaen stepped close to his brother, and pushed the already embedded knife deeper into his shoulder. The Crown Prince could not help crying out. "Beg me for mercy, and then I will let you go."

"I will never do that," Airëlus said in a low voice.

"No? Well, that is your choice. It is an odd one, but have it your own way." Calaen smiled, and twisted the blade sharply to the right, then immediately back to the left.

"Ai Elbereth!" Airëlus breathed, sinking to his knees.

"The offer still stands," Calaen said. "Beg me for mercy, and you can go free. Just think, you can be back with Ada and Legolas if you just-

"Never!" Gritting his teeth, Airëlus lifted himself off the ground and threw himself into his unsuspecting brother, and bowled him over onto the leafy forest floor.

"You…" Calaen hissed in frustration, and rolled out from underneath the Crown Prince. Jumping to his feet and standing over him, he pulled another knife from his belt. "I have no wish to compromise with you now. Your passing will come much more quickly than anticipated."

Airëlus nodded slowly, a humourless smile playing on his lips. "Kill me, if that is what you want. But what of Legolas? Will you return for him?"

"That is for me to know," Calaen said coldly. He locked eyes with his brother for a brief moment, before dropping to the ground beside him, and plunging the knife into his heart.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Elrohir lay in bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling. He could not sleep, and knew that he would more than likely lie awake for the rest of the night. He glanced over at his brother, wondering if he had found sleep. Elladan had, but his eyes were shut, and he tossed and turned in bed, the silky sheets tangling around his body.

"By the Valar," Elrohir muttered. He jumped out of his own bed and went across to sit on the edge of the other. "Wake up," he hissed, putting a hand on his twin's shoulder, and shaking him. "Come on, you are scaring me."

Without warning, Elladan awoke, and he launched himself up to grab the front of his brother's night-tunic. Tears had gathered in his stormy grey eyes, and the trembling of his body was obvious. "Elrohir…" he breathed.

"Peace, I am here. Everything is alright," the other Elf said soothingly, gently prising Elladan's fingers away, and taking his hand instead. "Calm yourself, and tell me what happened."

"I had another….another dream," Elladan whispered. "Calaen has Airëlus. He….he is going to kill him."

Elrohir's eyes widened in shock, and he grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "What did you say?" he demanded, though of course he had heard perfectly well.

"Calaen is going to kill Airëlus," Elladan repeated. "I think that we are too late this time."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas lay on his side with his face buried into the crook of his arm, listening to his father talking with Lord Elrond and Estel. The three conversed in low tones, careful not to 'wake' the Prince, but it was not so low that he could not hear all that was being said.

"Airëlus should be back by now," Thranduil sighed. "I worry for him. I know that he would not tarry on any journey, but especially one like this."

"That may be so, but do not forget that he left Rivendell with a group of riders," Elrond said. "One of the horses may have an injury, and that would slow them down. I understand that you are concerned, but you must not jump to conclusions."

Thranduil nodded and leaned forwards, letting a curtain of hair fall down to hide the fear that he knew was on his face. "You speak truly. But if he is not back by tomorrow, then I must take further action."

Estel cast around for a change of subject, and he smiled vaguely as his eyes fell on Legolas. "He is recovering swiftly. He is a lot better than he was."

"He may be healing on the outside, but it will take a while longer for his heart and mind to become as they once were," Elrond replied. "But that will come with time. All that he needs now is family and friends to give him as much love and help as possible."

"He will get it," the Elven-king said quietly. "I will make sure of it."

Silence fell again, and it hung heavily in the air. Thranduil cared little, but the other two, Estel particularly, found it uncomfortable. Again, he tried to think of something positive to say, but could think of nothing which could lighten the mood. He was rescued though, by the door flying open to slam against the wall.

"Quiet, fools!" he hissed. "Can you not see that Legolas is asleep? The last thing he needs is you two coming in here and making a noise like that."

"Ada, we must speak to you outside," Elrohir said urgently, ignoring his foster brother. "It cannot wait."

Elrond nodded and got to his feet, quickly followed by Estel, concern written all over both of their faces as they followed the twins from the room. When the door was shut once more, Thranduil stood, and went over to the bed. He knelt beside it, looking into his son's half hidden face.

"I meant what I said, Legolas. And I promise that I will never let harm befall you again. As long as I can protect you, I will," he said softly. "I know that I do not tell you this enough, but I love you. I love you so much, more than you can ever know. These past few days have been torture. At times, I felt as though my own heart was breaking. I would willingly swap places with you, just so that you could be spared all of this."

As he listened to the emotive words, Legolas felt torn in two. Part of him wanted to reach out and embrace his father, but he was loath to admit that he had heard everything, including the concerns over Airëlus' whereabouts. So he contented himself with biting down on his lip harder, and making sure that his breathing remained even.

Thranduil rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes tightly. But no sooner had he done that, the door opened, and he looked up quickly. Part of him had hoped to see Airëlus, though a greater part knew that it would not happen. He took in the expression on Elrond's face, and felt his heart sinking.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

The elder Elven-lord sighed, and nodded towards the door. "Come, you are needed outside."

Thranduil swallowed nervously and shot Legolas one last look, before standing, and leaving the room. As Elrond watched him going past, he sighed deeply. It was bad enough that he had already come close to losing his youngest son, and now…. Legolas! He was not yet strong enough to hear this kind of news. Shaking himself mentally, the Noldor Elf left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

When he was sure that he was alone, Legolas pushed himself into a sitting position, and stared at the door fearfully. Something had happened, he was sure of it. Taking a deep breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wondering how steady he would be. It had been days since had had walked unaided.

As he got to his feet, the young Prince stumbled slightly, but threw out an arm to grab the back of a nearby chair. He steadied himself, and lifted one foot off the ground to try and get some feeling back into it, closing his eyes as he did so to try and get rid of the lights dancing in front of him.

After what felt like an age, he felt able to move again. He silently crossed the room, and leant against the wall, listening to the soft conversation outside. Over the space of a few minutes, he heard the agitated voice of Elladan, the sympathetic voice of Elrond, and the distressed voice of Thranduil.

Distressed? The Elven-king rarely got distressed. But everything fell into place as the words that were being said outside penetrated his mind. Tears filled his eyes, and shaking his head in disbelief, he turned, and made his way back to the bed. He did not know how he made it there without falling, for so great was his shock.

"Valar, not Airëlus. Please, keep him safe," the Prince whispered. "Spare him. Do not take my brother from me…."

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