"Prince Legolas, a letter has come for you," another knock at the door roused him out of bed.

He opened the door and saw Elrohir, "Thank you."

Elrohir smirked slightly at the blonde in his sleepy state, "You're welcome. How does Rivendell find you so far?"

"It's a beautiful place," filled with beautiful feelings.

"Well, I pray that this letter does not hold a request from your father to return home. I would like you to stay here as long as you can," Elrohir placed his hand on the blonde's hip and caressed it. Legolas inwardly sighed and watched the elf slowly make his way to the soft belts that held his robe together. Elrohir looked both ways down the hallway before he slightly pushed Legolas back into the room and shut the door so silently that it rivaled the skills of an actual elf.

The prince found himself being taken over again, "Elrohir, don't you think this is a dangerous time for us to be doing this?"

"Prince, it is very earlier in the morning, most of Imaldris is still under the covers, and don't you think that is a good idea, by the way?" Elrohir easily picked the prince up and placed him roughly on the bed. He is no elf, Legolas cynically thought. He found himself quickly stripped of his robes and the dark elf pressing himself against him. Soft hands traveled all around his body but lingered in his hair that was still braided and messy from yesterday. Elrohir pressed his lips against his and attacked his mouth. Legolas didn't even have to try to kiss back as he found the other's tongue to be moving so quickly in his mouth. After a while the prince found himself gasping for air and not being able to get any. He tried to lightly push him away but it wasn't working. He began to fear for his well being and tried to shut his mouth to no avail. Stars began to dance in front of his eyes and he let his arms fall limply to his sides. Elrohir kissed deeper and fuller not paying any mind to the prince's condition.

Just when Legolas began to feel like all consciousness was gone, a knock came at the door. Elrohir pounced back and threw Legolas his robe. As the prince gasped to return the air to his lungs, Elrohir had opened a hidden door in his wall and quickly made his exit. Legolas struggled to put on the robe while trying to replace he air in his lungs. He staggered to the door and tried to open it with all the composure he had left in him.

No one was there; Legolas looked left and right and could find not a soul. Relieved he shut the door to his room and went to find the letter. He opened it with haste:

Dear son,

18 found dead Friday

24 found dead Saturday

33 found dead Sunday

34 found dead Monday

I hope you are doing your job over there.

-King Thranduil

Legolas threw the letter to the ground and searched for a robe to wear for breakfast. His hand graced over a certain robe. He took it out and studied it: it was light green and was trimmed with forest green embroidery. It fit his frame perfectly. He looked inside the garment and could still see small stains of blood littering the lining…

The door opened, he had begun to think that this occurrence would never come. He felt someone turn his body over and begin to remove his tattered clothing. As each piece was removed, a wound beneath it opened and slowly seeped blood. The prince did not feel any pain but knew it was supposed to hurt. When his clothing was gone, another set of hands had come to put him on a stretcher. They took him to the baths and washed the blood and dirt away. The water reactivated some of the poison in the orc dirt and mildly singed his skin. He paid no mind to that either.

"Do you know when you leave for battle again?" a voice asked.

"No," what a stupid question to ask, he thought.

"You know, they found the bodies of your guard. They were mutilated beyond belief, didn't even look like elves anymore."

"How could you let that happen to them?"

Legolas felt dizzy and tried to tell them to be silent about the situation, "I…"

"Do you remember Yewror?" one asked.

"Yes," he recalled him as a member of his guard.

"That was my brother," the elf suddenly pushed the prince's head down into the water. Legolas struggled to get free but his limbs were still not strong enough. Just as he thought he would have to breathe the water, he was yanked out by what was left of his hair.

"Did you think I was going to kill you, Legolas? Never, that is not a death fit for you at all," the elves then continued to wash him using a strong soap that stung as it glided over his skin. He tried not to show that he was in pain, he couldn't let them see.

"Are you even sorry for his death?" Legolas shuddered at the question, how could he not be?

"Of course!"

"How will you make it up to me?"

"What about me, as well? I had two cousins in your guard, both dead."

"I don't know how I could ever make it up to you!" Legolas slurred, his consciousness still half on hiatus.

One of the elves reached into the water and pulled him out, "You have always been so beautiful."

"He's correct. I have always lusted after you as well."

"If you lay with us, maybe that will let us know how sorry you are," one elf started to dress him in a light green robe. It was beautiful and covered in dark green embroidery, truly a garment fit for a prince.

Legolas winced as the lining rubbed against his wounds, "I'm so sorry for their deaths. Please, understand."

"Must I repeat?"

"I guess you must, he obviously doesn't understand us."

"If you lay with us, maybe that will let us know how sorry you are," the elf began to reach his hands into Legolas' robe. A wave of dizziness struck the blond again and he fell into the offending elf's hands. "He likes it."

"Of course he does. After leading our families to murder-

"I'm sorry!" Legolas interrupted. He felt an incredible guilt take over his soul, Maybe they will forgive me if I lay with them? "I'll lay with both of you, whenever you want, if you would only forgive me."

The elves laughed, "Sounds like music to my ears!" They took him to a secret room and had their ways with him. Throughout the experience, Legolas began to lack the love of life. He couldn't feel any love with them at all. True, he had not yet fallen in love, but he knew that it wasn't supposed to feel so humiliating. But this was the beginning of his new life, if it could even be called that. It felt more to him like the beginning of death.

He shuddered at the memory and returned the garment to the wardrobe. He settled on a light purple robe instead, it was simple yet delicate. As he dressed himself he thought of ways to seduce Haldir: After today's practice, I must request a private sparring session with him tonight. I must make the appointment very early in the morning, perhaps around 3AM. Minds are always more gullible at that hour. Perhaps he will warm up to me, in more ways than one. The image in the mirror caught his attention; he noticed small red patches underneath his eyes. A quick panic swept over him and he rushed to the mirror to more closely inspect the marks. They were the marks of asphyxiation, tiny broken blood vessels in small clusters. They will all question me at breakfast! They will ask who choked me, what will I say? He attempted to aid the marks by applying a wet towel to the area to maybe stop the swelling. Despair found him and confined him to his chair.

After an hour, a knock came to his door. The prince silently cursed himself and put the towel aside. He checked his face in the mirror; the towel had not helped much at all. Giving up, he opened the door, "Elladan, how are you this morning?"

"I am fine, and you?"

Legolas motioned him in the room and shut the door, "I'm fine."

Elladan caught sight of red marks on his friend's face, asphyxiation, "I see you must have had some sort of irritation on your skin?"

Terror took its place on the prince's skin, "Oh, yes."

The dark elf could tell something was wrong, but he could also tell that the other did not want him to know exactly what that was, "They don't suite you at all." Legolas tried to turn away and began to take out his messy braids. "If you want, I could bring my paints here and cover it quite quickly."

The younger elf's eyes flickered in joy, "Are you in jest?"

"No, I do not mind. I will be a minute," Elladan returned to his own room. Before he opened his door he watched Elrohir walk out of a secret door in the hallway. He decided not to confront him at that moment even though he reeked of mischief.

He returned with the paints in hand and shut the door for privacy, "Come here, this will be quick." He prepared a white tone and added a small amount of brown and even smaller amount of red to the mixture. Legolas continued to rebraid his hair but watched with interest as he easily mixed the paints into a solid tone that matched his perfectly. Elladan took a small brush and lightly covered it in the mixture. "Alright, now, stay still and try not to move your eyes too much while I apply this." Legolas obeyed and stopped braiding his hair while his gaze remained unfocused on something across the room. He could barely feel the small hairs of the brush grace his skin. The painter's expression was characterized with concentration as he moved onto the other cheek.

I wish I had known of this technique before. It is true that elven skin quickly heals, but this would never heal before breakfast. I must thank him for this. As Elladan neared the end of his art, his eyes drifted to the slight red marks on the prince's neck. Elrohir had mentioned them before but he himself had found it better not the question them, it wasn't any of his business. It was strange that they hadn't completely healed by now. They must've been very deep impressions. Before he knew it, the marks on the blonde's face were gone.

"Why don't you take a look in the mirror?" the dark elf lay his tools to the side and watched the prince rush to the mirror, almost immediately he heard a sigh of relief from the washroom.

Legolas stepped out with a large smile on his face, "You have no idea how thankful I am that you have done this for me."

"Wait!" Elladan rose to his feet and made the elf freeze. "It must dry, don't move the muscles in your face, it may come off." He softly blew on his features, trying to hasten the drying. His breath smelled like fresh water from a small forest stream, Legolas almost smiled at the thought of nature, one of the things he had come to love so much.

Elladan watched an ever so slight smile surface on the prince's face, Oh, so he does smile. There is some sort of good humor in this elf. Elladan couldn't help but let his own smile show as well. His blue eyes suddenly met his and he saw an emotion very uncharacteristic of the elf he had come to know over the past few days: relief. He finished drying the paint and gingerly touched it to make sure it was dry. He felt the elf shiver at his touch and his eyes closed.

"I can't remember…" Legolas blindly reached out to grasp Elladan's hands. "I can't remember the last time, things were looking up and coincidence was on my side." He slowly entwined his silky fingers in between the others. The prince seemed to invisibly take some kind of energy from the hands, "Right now, I feel as if all that pain never existed. The only other time I felt like this was when I was a mere elfling."

Elladan grasped to begin to try to understand and interpret the prince's emotions. They seemed tangled together and this made them inconsistent. Little by little, he was beginning to understand how it felt to be in a world without love. The dark elf reached to soothingly stroke his blond hair; he sat next to him and leaned into his touch. He obviously knows what it is to love others, as he shows this to me now. I somehow think that it would have been better for him to have never loved than to have loved at all. He somehow knows what love is: he remembers the feelings, its rhythms, and its inspirations. How painful it is to have known all this and then to be in a state where these attributes are completely absent? How painful is it to know that you don't live with love?

"I'm sorry if my actions are bizarre, Elladan. It's just that it's been so long since I've encountered anyone with life still in him. What had seemed to be commonplace is now fascinating."

"But, Legolas, you are alive," Elladan wrapped and arm around his slim figure.

His blue eyes met his with earnest, "Everyone has their obstacles."

"But what is life an obstacle to?" Legolas simply shook his head in response.