That night, dinner was a somber affair. Legolas spoke only briefly with the twins, and they were both convinced he was angry at them for leaving – which he wasn't. Lord Elrond had not mentioned the child's outburst earlier on in the day. Airëlus kept darting questioning sideways glances at Calaen, who would occasionally nod his head, in reassurance, it seemed. Thranduil just sat in silence, wondering what had taken place between his two elder sons.

Eventually, he felt as though he had to break the silence. "So, how did your ride go?"

"It was...good to be outside," Airëlus replied, stopping himself just in time from adding 'and under the trees again' to the end of the sentence.

"And, you encountered no problems with spiders?" Thranduil enquired?

"Must we speak of those at the table?" Gandalf sighed.

Airëlus smiled. "There was nothing, Ada. We did not go particularly far. And anyway, if we had gotten into trouble, we would have told you."

Thranduil nodded, and glanced over at his other son. "And you, Calaen? Was everything alright?"

"It was fine," the Prince said in a low voice.

Elladan listened to the deafening silence for only a few seconds, before saying, "Anyway, if we had come across any spiders, 'Ro and I would have been no good. We don't particularly like them. Why do they need eight legs? We can manage just fine on two."

"You are so inconsiderate," Elrohir said, as Gandalf had to suppress a shudder.

Elladan grinned, whilst Lord Elrond shook his head. Airëlus laughed quietly, and even Calaen managed a faint smile. Thranduil sighed inwardly as Legolas made no sign of having even heard the comment. His face remained impassive, and he kept his eyes lowered on the untouched food in front of him.

"Legolas once claimed to have housed a baby spider in his room," the King commented, wanting to elicit some sort of response from his son.

Gandalf, hoping for the same thing, kept up his show of disgust. "A baby spider! Well now, whatever would you want one of those for? It is a bit of an odd pet to have, if you ask me."

"There wasn't a spider," Legolas said flatly.

"Oh, I remember," Thranduil nodded. "You moved the baby spider into Airëlus' room, to make space for the baby Orc."

"You did what?" Airëlus exclaimed, feigning shock. "If I wake one night to find an eight-legged, hairy beast towering over me, I'll be sure to send it straight back to you."

"There wasn't a spider!" Legolas snapped.

Stunned silence fell. The child turned his face away, and gazed down at the floor. He hadn't meant to speak like that. But, darkness was falling. Within a few hours, he would be in bed, and the dreams would come again, just like they did every night. That frightened him, and the fact that he had to be made upset all the time, made him angry, too.

"Legolas, eat your food," Thranduil said gently, wanting only to break the silence.

"No!"

"Legolas!" This time, Airëlus really was shocked.

Lord Elrond winced in sympathy for the Elfling. "Do you remember what I told you earlier, about warriors needing to keep up their strength by eating?"

"I don't care," Legolas retorted.

Thranduil leaned forward, and spoke quietly. "You may leave the room when that food is out of sight, but not before."

Legolas hesitated, and his child's mind worked furiously, torn between two choices. If he couldn't leave until he ate the food, he would sit there all night, not touching it. But then there was the other choice. If he went for that one, it would make him feel better. He sat in silence for a moment, debating. Eventually, defiance won, and he went for the second choice.

No-one expected him to do what he did. He grabbed his plate, held it for a few seconds, and then dropped it onto the floor. Exclamations and gasps ran through the company. Gandalf's eyes flickered in surprise, but he swiftly masked his face again. Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other uneasily, whilst Calaen and Airëlus just stared at their brother in shock.

"There. It's out of sight," Legolas said quietly.

Thranduil was the first to recover. He pushed his chair back, motioned calmly for his son to leave the room, and then turned to the others. "Will you excuse us for a few minutes?"

When the King was gone, Airëlus slammed his goblet of wine down on the table, and made to go after them. "I will be back in a moment." His voice was slightly unsteady.

Gandalf shook his head as servants rushed forward to begin clearing up the mess on the floor. "No, sit down. Leave them to it."

"Are you mad?" Airëlus hissed, forgetting who he was talking to.

"Not yet, no," Gandalf replied calmly. "Ask me again in a few years, and maybe I will give you a different answer."

The Crown Prince sat down again, and leaned across the table. "Mithrandir, I would much prefer it if my father did not speak to Legolas whilst angry."

"Why-ever not?" asked Gandalf.

"Have you forgotten what happened the last time he lost his temper?" Airëlus demanded.

"Of course not, but-

"That was different," Calaen suddenly cut in. "Do you not think that maybe Legolas deserved what he got? Was Ada's anger not justified? He had done wrong, Airëlus, and if he was not disciplined, how would he learn that his deed had been incorrect?"

"There were other ways to make him realize," the elder Elf said coolly.

As Airëlus' flashing blue eyes met his own green ones, Calaen flinched inwardly. He hadn't meant to speak his thoughts. What had come over him? He knew he was wrong, anyway, and of course he had known that saying this would cause problems. The dark haired Elf bit down on his lip. Had Legolas deserved it? Had Thranduil been correct to do what he had? But surely-

"I think," Gandalf said gently, "that this conversation would be better held away from the dining hall."

Airëlus glared at his now silent brother for a moment longer, and then flicked his gaze back to the Wizard. "Surely it will do no harm if I go after them?"

"That is where you are wrong. It will do more harm than you know," Gandalf replied. "Going after them will only serve to show your father that you have no faith in him, and that when he swore never to raise his hand to Legolas, you did not believe his words. That would hurt him very much."

"But...."

"Go after them if you wish," Gandalf said. "But, if I thought there was any cause for concern, I would not have stopped you. This is a test for your father – can he overcome his temper, or will he let it defeat him?"

As soon as they were away from the dining hall, Thranduil stopped and looked down at Legolas. The boy immediately lowered his eyes, and began scuffing his toes along the floor. The King crouched down and put both hands on his son's shoulders, determined not to let himself get too angry.

"Would you care to explain why you did that?" he asked coolly. When no answer came, he shook the child briefly. "Legolas!"

"It was wrong of me," the Prince muttered.

"Oh, I am so glad you acknowledge that," Thranduil replied, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "But, if you knew that it was wrong, why did you do it?"

Legolas was silent as his mind searched for an answer. He felt angry at himself as realization hit. "I was upset, Ada, and I wanted to do something that would make everyone else feel like that, and would make me feel better. I'm very selfish."

"I don't know if your actions made you feel better, but they certainly did not upset anyone. Anger, shock and disappointment may have been some of the feelings felt, but definitely not sadness," Thranduil said. He paused, and looked into the child's eyes. "Why were you so upset?"

"Miss Nana," Legolas muttered.

"Grief can make us do some very silly things," Thranduil nodded in understanding. "Alright, we will not mention tonight's incident again. But you must know that if you do something wrong, there will be consequences for it. Remember that, the next time you decide to feed your meal to the floor."

Legolas smiled weakly as he climbed into his father's arms. "At least it didn't go to waste."

"That is one good thing," Thranduil agreed.

"Where are we going?" Legolas asked, as the King began walking up the corridor.

"I know it is early, but sleep will do you good. People usually get bad-tempered or upset if they are suffering from tiredness," Thranduil replied. He glanced down at his son. "Have you been sleeping well lately?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Thranduil nodded, and fell silent as they reached Legolas' room. He pushed open the door, and set the boy down. "Go on, get changed. When you are finished, bring me your hairbrush."

Legolas quickly did as he was told, and when he was seated beside his father on the bed to have his braid taken out, he thought of something. "Ada, you said that anger was one of the feelings that was felt when I dropped my food. Did I make you angry?"

"I was shocked at first, but then I was more...disappointed than angry," Thranduil replied.

Legolas winced, wishing it were the other way around. He would choose anger over disappointment any day. "I make you angry a lot, though, don't I?"

"No more than your brothers did at your age," the King said, pulling the brush through his son's hair. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," Legolas replied. "When you were an Elfling, did you get into lots of trouble and make your Ada angry?"

"I most certainly did not," Thranduil said, with great dignity.

"You must've done."

"Why is that?"

"Because all Elflings do."

"Well, I didn't."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You did."

"It's time for bed, Legolas."

"Alright, but you still got into lots of trouble, like me."

Thranduil rolled his eyes, and pulled the covers back to let the child crawl into bed. "Think what you wish, then."

Legolas nodded. "I will."

"Alright." Thranduil smiled down at his son as he put out the lamp. "Sleep well, Greenleaf."

The Prince sat up with a sudden start. "Ada, wait!"

"What is it?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Legolas lowered his eyes, and began fiddling with his hair. "Why...why do we dream?"

"That is a strange question," Thranduil mused. His thoughts flitted back to the dream he had had the previous night, but he quickly pushed it away. "Dreams can come for a number of reasons. They are quite often focused on our thoughts and emotions, and it is not un-common for them to be connected to some event that has taken place in our lives. Some believe dreams to be symbolic of thoughts buried in our minds."

"Do dreams mean anything?"

"It depends," Thranduil said slowly. "I don't think that they do, because dreaming takes over when our active and awake mind sleeps. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Legolas replied.

"But then, you could interpret them in many different ways. For example, I had a dream once, and I thought it meant something." Thranduil smiled bitterly. "I thought it meant something very horrible, but then I realized that it was only a dream – nothing more, nothing less."

"What did you dream of?" Legolas asked curiously.

Thranduil shook his head. "Nothing for you to worry about. Sleep now."

"Goodnight, Ada," the child said quietly.

The King smiled, and leaned down to kiss his son. But worry was eating away inside of him – there must have been some reason for Legolas asking such a question. But, he would not pursue the matter, not tonight. Maybe he should have, though. More dreams would come to the young Prince that night. More tears would spill from his eyes as more memories flew back to haunt him.

Ok, I don't really have that much to say, except its nearly midnight, which isn't that late, I know, but I'm ill, I've spent a week at college, I went to a party mid-week (which maybe wasn't such a great idea as it ended in the early hours) so as you can guess I'm pretty tired. Anyway, see you on Sunday!