Elrond opened the door gently, knowing it would make little noise on well-kept hinges. Stepping into the room his heart sank a little as he realised that the elf had heard him, and was cringing back in the bed as though awaiting a blow. A thin bandage was wrapped around his face, holding light-resistant pads against his eyes, and frames had been set up around his splinted legs to keep the weight of the blankets from resting on them. Glancing at his hands he found that he had hidden them beneath the blankets, out of sight. He would have to check over them later, for they had been red and inflamed last time he had looked, and he feared infection while the elf's immune system was weakened. Elves so rarely got infections, for the wounds simply healed too fast for infection to get in, but Elrond doubted the unmade elf had been in the cleanest of places while he had been injured, and his ability to heal himself had taken a solid blow.

Finally - visual examination over - he approached the bed and took a seat in the chair that had been inhabited by Elladan for the last few weeks, trying to ignore the elf's attempts to his himself from sight.

"Was I such a tyrant, Legolas, that you might hide from me now?" The sound of his voice seemed to bring the elf back to himself, and he now lay still in the bed, his posture taught.

"My Lord Elrond, I must admit it has been some time since I have heard your voice in this mockery. Though your sons are a frequent feature, so perhaps it is not so strange a thing." The spite in the familiar voice was painfully unfamiliar. Taking a deep breath, Elrond sought for a way to reach the confused soul he had once known.

"I had heard that you deny my sons the pleasure of talking with you. Now you tell me you talk to them often. Which is it, Legolas?"

"Your sons? You mock me. They are orcs with spelled voices, as you are, as everyone is. More trickery in an attempt to break me. You can fool me no more. Can you not yet see that you will never succeed?" Elrond's breath caught, as Legolas' actions became clear. He had persuaded everyone that they should lower their voices around him, or better yet not speak at all. But Sauron had been using the twins to twist the woodelf's thoughts, as part of his torture, and any familiar voice might have been aid to the twin's convincing him of their identity. And yet there was no hope in his strong words of denial, they seemed almost desperate. Legolas felt he neared the edge of breaking, though Sauron's games had long since finished.

"Oh, Legolas. I am so sorry we were not able to get you out sooner. But you must believe me, I truly am Elrond."

"Then you will remove this blindfold, for you have no need of it to hide your true appearance from me." His tone was challenging, but the tension in the words was palpable. Legolas truly feared the blindfold.

"I cannot do that Legolas, I know that Elladan has already told you why. Your eyes will only heal with the treatments I have given you and by being hidden from the touch of sunlight. You have only two more weeks to stand it, then I will take the bandages off, but until then if you wish to keep your sight, they must remain. How can I convince you of who I am, without showing you? Tell me, anything and I will do it."

"You cannot be Elrond for, if you were, I would be safe and free of the shadow, but the shadow on my heart is stronger than ever. So strong that I fear I might give in to it soon. Warm does it feel to my cold soul, when once it was cold and my own soul warm with anger. " He sighed, and turned his head from the Lord. "And I have said too much, for this will only gladden you to hear and increase your efforts."

"I can see how it might feel like that, for to have the space that held the shadow filled with the warmth of the soul of an old friend after so long fighting it must be hard to understand. But know this, and know I speak the truth. Do you remember the Ring-Bearer, Frodo, and the fellowship's original task?"

"Ai, yes. But we failed them upon Amon Hen and for you to know of such things speaks darkly of their fate."

"Nay, they were successful. The ring was destroyed, cast into the fires. It is no more, and its master along with it. But dark things had taken your mind when we found you, and the defeat of the shadow was not enough to release you. Gandalf had to..."

"Gandalf?" He snorted. "You cannot expect me to believe you now! Gandalf is dead, may his soul rest in peace."

"Gandalf the Grey passed through Moria and with all of his strength defeated a minion of Morgoth, the Balrog of Moria. He became Gandalf the White and was reformed in our world. He returned to the fellowship shortly after you were taken." Elrond sighed in exasperation. The words sounded unbelievable even to him. "Can you at least believe that things have happened in the world while you were not present? We did not just give up hope when you were lost to us."

"Of course, Gandalf resurrected, please continue." The sarcasm was biting.

"Gandalf forced the shadow from your mind, for it had taken you to a dark place, far beyond our reach. But you began to fade for it opened a hole within you, he was forced to lend you a little of his light to fill the hole - it will feel warm to you like the sunlight dispelling a night time shadow. But you continue to refuse its warmth and so you still fade, and we cannot save you if you will not take our help. You cast away my sons as though they disgust you, you make me watch them fade too. I will not lose so many who mean so much to me." Elrond, catching the desperation entering his tone, forced his emotions back a way. This was not what the other elf needed.

"Do you remember that time you caught us together in the halls of fire? We were all three curled up in one of the large chairs with a blanket. The twins could not hide me in time." Elrond's breath caught at this soft recollection of a memory. A memory from a time that seemed ages past, though it could not have been more than two centuries.

"They tried their very best I seem to remember." Elrond laid a hand on Legolas' shoulder, hoping and praying that he was getting somewhere with the young elf.

"Don't touch me." There was a coldness, a blankness in those words that belied all the warmth that had been there moments before. It made Elrond shudder and he pulled away. "They hid me beneath the blanket." He continued as if nothing had happened, the warmth of reminiscing back in his tone. "But you saw me without trouble." Biting his lip, Elrond continued; letting Legolas take the conversation where he would.

"And I had no problems guessing who the twins would be hiding. You were so good for them, though you all pushed my patience from time to time. They were always mournful when you were gone." These were truths he had never dared speak before any of them before, but he knew that if he were to convince him that he was no impostor they would need saying.

"And I shall never live to see them again, not feel their touch." There was a shudder of a sob swallowed back. "All I have left are their voices on harsh orc bodies who have no wish but to break me whatever way they can." The words came like a harsh slap.

"They... touched you." Elrond's heart was suddenly cold. He had envisaged this form of torture, but never with orcs masquerading as his sons.

"As your 'sons' would, yes. Does this excite you, Orc? Would you like a turn? I will do nothing to stop you, I bet your master would even be glad of the aid. After all you cannot talk me to death." Elrond turned away, disgusted. "No? Then leave me in peace!" Legolas hadn't meant to shout, but the emotions that Elrond's voice had stirred within him were rising quickly to surge past the weakened barriers he still held. There was a softness in that voice that spoke of a home, and caring arms when they were needed, and wise words and stern lectures. And it spoke of sons who had spent an age learning from their wise father, and who were more like him than they cared to admit.

Elrond sat in silence as the tears began to fall, waiting for a moment before moving closer and placing a soft hand upon Legolas' cheek, brushing away the drops that fell from beneath the dampening bandage.

"Do you feel my hand?" A nod. "I am no orc."

"I believe you." A whispered admission.

"I'm glad." Elrond gathered him closer into his arms, careful not to shift splinted legs that lay beneath the light covers. He held him quietly as he cried, a damaged hand stroking through hair that could only be elven, so smooth a texture. This was no orc. He believed, for the first time in many weeks. Reality came back too quickly as his situation made itself known, and the despair firmly entrenched in his heart reminded him of what he was now.

"But what do I do now? I am ruined. To fade might seem a better end."

"You heal! There is nothing more I would ask of you, but if you allow yourself to fade know that you would not leave this world alone."

"Elrohir... Elladan... But what if I cannot?"

"My sons will accept you as you are. They do not care for petty things, and would have you returned to them in any form."

"What have I done..." Exhausted and numbed, Legolas lost his grip on consciousness and Elrond lost his grip on his own tears, sobbing harshly to the quiet room as he rocked the still form in his arms.

-

The first time he work he was cold and shivering, warm hands lay a blanket over him and sleep took him again.

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The second time he was too hot and he fought with leaden limbs to throw the blanket off again.

-

The third time pain welled up in him, burning through his body as though he were set aflame. He couldn't help but cry out, and a hand on his shoulder was all that kept him from rising up to try and rid himself of the pain. A cup was brought to his lips and, choking a little, he swallowed the bitter liquid.

"Better?" Came a voice belonging to the hands that held the cup. And with the draught the pain was soothed away back into the recesses that it had long haunted.

"Elladan?" He whispered in response. The uncertainty he felt brought a tremble to his voice. What if he had only dreamed Elrond, or if this was only a furthering of the dark lord's scheme against him. In trusting to Elrond's word he could be giving up his soul to the very one who wanted it. The sweet laughter that followed near wiped the uncertainty from his mind. The orcs had never laughed in that way. It had been an imperfection of the spell. They had laughed as orcs, never as an elf would. Never as Elladan just had.

"I am glad to hear you call me that, Legolas, instead of accusing me of being some foul trickery or something worse."

"How long, Elladan? How long have I been here. How long since you took me from that place?"

"Sauron was defeated on the 25th March, more than a month ago, and we found you on that day and brought you here. Gandalf took the shadow from you on the 24th April and you lay in sleep for two days more. You roused only four days ago and yesterday father came to you, on the 30th April. Tomorrow Aragorn will be crowned King of Men, and as soon as you are healed we shall have to set off for Minas Tirith to watch my sister get wed." There was laughter in Elladan's voice, but Legolas was stricken.

"I cannot go before the others as I am... How could I? They would not..." Legolas found tears forming and fought with himself not to wipe them away. He would rather have Elladan see him cry than display the ruins of his hands he would wipe them with.

"Come now, you have been though too much to come out unchanged. They would understand. They love you too much to do otherwise. Father has told us a little of what you said to him. We are so sorry for being your weakness, for being used against you. We only hope you can forgive us. But come, I must change the bandages on your hands, infection has crept in despite our efforts. This trial has left your elven healing weakened, we must help it as much as we can."

"Must you see them?"

"To clean them, aye. Else I would do a very messy job." Elladan went to laugh but was brought up short when he saw Legolas' face. "You are ashamed of the wounds?"

"They are not wounds, they are an abomination. I do not know how you can stand to look at me any more."

"Oh Legolas." Arms were suddenly thrown around his shoulders and he had to fight a rising panic to keep from pulling away. "How sadly have thing progressed. Believe me when I say this means nothing to me save you are a thousand times stronger than I always knew you to be. You withstood this torture, and withstood torment from us who love you beyond anything else and still you are strong. Still there was enough of you to return to us. For a time we feared... it would not be the case."

"I was ready to give in. I had given up hope. Too many times had I felt my heart soar as you and Elrohir ran into the room and took me from it, speaking of escape and freedom. Too many times had I felt my heart break as their rough hands touched me. Their rough bodies. I could not... And still there are doubts in my mind. If this comes to be another falsity I should not think I would survive it."

"Then be thankful that it is not, and let me change those bandages so that we might prevent the loss of your hands."

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It seems half was too hopeful. You've all disappeared! Oh well... Just in case there's anyone out there too lazy to review... the next instalment.