Calaen stepped out of his room and moved slowly down the corridor, smiling or nodding to any servants who passed him. They, like the King, were under the impression that he had returned from the darkness he had been in, and all were overjoyed at that, for they also had missed his laughter and sparkling eyes.

Yet the darkness had not left, and nor would it for a long time, if ever. It was quite a frightening thought, but Calaen knew that he must accept what he was given in life. After all, had he not been taught that in one of the cruellest ways possible? Had he not lost his mother, and had there not been any other choice but to accept her death?

He had dreams. All the time. The Queen would be falling from a tree again, falling straight through the air. This was bad enough. What made it worse was the fact that Legolas would be sitting on one of the branches, smiling so innocently. But Calaen knew. The child had pushed her.

'No, not actually pushed her, I know that. But if not for him, she would still be here,' the Elf thought bitterly. 'He may not have physically pushed her, but he still killed her.'

As anger threatened to overwhelm him, he bit it back, and continued to move causally down the corridor. He had to be calm for what he was about to do, otherwise it would not work. He had waited a long time to begin these games, because of course he had not been able to rush into them. They required time, patience and planning. He had known that ever since the idea entered his head, two months ago, when he had first lied about Legolas.

"Anyway, at least precious little Greenleaf got to live his perfect life for a while longer," Calaen smirked, as he stopped just outside his younger brother's door. "How kind of me to let him."

An old vase stood in a niche in the wall. It was old, yes, but the servants kept everything so meticulously clean, that Calaen could almost see his reflection in it. The corridor was near to silent, the only sound being his breathing, which he noticed was coming faster than it normally did. Adrenaline; excitement; anticipation.

As the Prince reached out to touch the vase, all the while looking around to make sure that no-one was coming up behind him, he swiftly withdrew his hand. Could he do this? The last time he had blamed Legolas for something he had not done, it had been on the spur of the moment. But this... this was all planned.

'Of course you can do it. The boy killed your mother,' an unknown voice whispered in his head.

That settled it. Nodding in determination, Calaen snaked a hand out and grabbed the vase. Jerking his arm back, the ornament came with it, and as it met thin air, he let it tumble to the ground. Without even waiting to see the end result, he turned on his heel and ran around the corner, the sound of it shattering ringing in his ears even as he did so.

There was silence for a moment, and then one of the doors opened. Calaen smirked as he heard a soft exclamation of 'oh!', and then, wiping the smile from his face, he stepped back around the corner. "Legolas! What have you done?"

The Elfling had been kneeling on the floor, staring at the shards, but now he jumped up once more. "No, this wasn't me, Cal. I heard a crash when I was in my room, and I came to see what it was. I found this."

"Legolas, that was a very old vase," Calaen said sharply.

"But I didn't do it!"

The dark haired Elf smiled, and nodded in understanding. "Oh, silly me. Of course, I forgot that inanimate objects actually do have lives, and when no-one is looking, they like to go for walks. What about this vase, then? I suppose it wanted to try its hand at flying? Get a grip on yourself, Legolas. Do you really think Ada will believe that when I tell him?"

"But I didn't do anything," the small Prince said desperately. "Please, Cal, why won't you believe me? You can't tell Ada."

"Tell me what?"

Legolas spun around, and his eyes widened in horror as he looked up into his father's face. The Elven-king stole an impassive glance at the shattered vase, and then glanced at Calaen, who merely shook his head. Sighing, he looked back down at the clearly terrified Elfling.

"Well, I'm waiting," he said. "What do you not want your brother to tell me, Legolas?"

When the only response was silence, Calaen gestured to the vase. "I came around the corner to see this tumbling to the ground. He was the only one in the corridor when it happened. You can guess the rest, I think."

"Alright," Thranduil nodded. "Legolas?"

"I didn't," the child whispered. "I didn't."

The Elven-king paused for a moment, and knelt down so that he was at eye level with his son. "Legolas, if you did do it, I will not be angry. I know you well enough to be sure that you would not do something like this on purpose. Was it an accident?"

"Ada, I didn't break it," Legolas said pleadingly, his eyes filling.

"Accidents happen all the time," Thranduil continued. He sighed, and put a hand on the Prince's shoulder. "Do you remember the day that I got very angry at you, Greenleaf? So angry that I struck you? You are not afraid that I will do something like that again, are you?"

"No, because you promised that you wouldn't, and I believe you," Legolas replied. "You wouldn't break a promise, Ada."

Thranduil smiled at his son's faith in him. "Alright. But the vase is broken, and I still do not know how. Legolas, are you telling me the truth?"

"I saw him," Calaen said quietly.

"Let your brother answer," Thranduil replied.

Legolas shook his head, and the motion caused a single tear to fall. "Ada, I didn't break it. I'm telling you the truth. I wouldn't lie to you. Please believe me. Please."

"Hush," Thranduil soothed, reaching out and delicately brushing away the tear on the distressed child's cheek. "If you say you did not do it, then that is enough for me. I believe you, Legolas."

"But I saw him," Calaen said angrily. As his father turned cool eyes on him, the Prince's mouth ran dry in apprehension. Surely the Elven-king could not have guessed?

"I expect the vase was balanced precariously on the edge, and that was what caused the fall. It is no strange thing," Thranduil replied. "I am sure you just associated the accident with Legolas because you saw him standing here after it had broken."

"I'm sure," Calaen said quietly.

Thranduil smiled, and stood up once more. "Now that is agreed, I will have someone come up here to sort this mess out – I fear that I am late to a meeting, so, if you will excuse me..."

The two brothers stood in silence as their father swept away from them, back around the corner. Calaen looked down at Legolas, a strange light in his eyes, and an even stranger, un-readable expression on his face. He said nothing, for, what could he say? He bit down on his lip, and closed his eyes briefly.

"Why?" Legolas asked. His voice trembled in confusion, anger, and disbelief.

Calaen opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He held the child's gaze for only a few seconds, before shaking his head helplessly. Turning sharply on his heel, he ran. He ran as fast as possible, away from Legolas, away from the look of complete and utter betrayal on his brother's face.

He leaped down a flight of stairs and sprinted past startled servants and some of Thranduil's advisors, who, like their King, appeared to be late for their meeting. The occasional Elf reached out and tried to catch him by the shoulder. They were concerned for him, but their help was shunned. Calaen merely tore away from them.

His breathing ragged, he darted out of a side door and entered one of the palace gardens. It was one that his mother had loved greatly while she had been alive. He paid no attention to the rain that was slowly drizzling, and he sank down to the ground, back resting against a stone pillar.

"What have I done?" he breathed, resting his arms on his knees. As his vision became blurred, he buried his face into the crook of his elbow. "Valar, how could I... why... what is happening to me?"

The truth was, he did not know. He knew nothing at that moment in time. Confusion; desperation; helplessness; hatred – was it for himself? Legolas? Everyone? He just wanted to stay alone in the gardens for all eternity. Maybe if he did not drown in his tears, the rain would do it instead.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" asked a sudden sneering voice. "Oh, it's his Royal Highness, Prince Calaen?"

The dark haired Elf snapped his head up, and started as he saw Berian, one who had long tormented him, standing in front of him. He hastily drew his sleeve across his eyes, and jumped to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"Not that it is any business of yours, but I thought I would take a detour to the palace," Berian shrugged. "I'm on the way to deliver a message to the King, you see."

"What message?"

"Never you mind," Berian said sharply. He paused, and smiled. "Have you heard that I've joined a patrol? The message contains details of... soldier things."

'So, that is why I have not seen him for a while,' Calaen thought. He looked up, and said scornfully, "My brother joined the patrols months ago. And he is younger than you."

"Not by very many years," Berian snapped. "Anyway, Princes are privileged. We mere common-folk must work to get what we want, whilst you and your brothers are handed everything on a plate."

Calaen merely shrugged, despair momentarily forgotten. "If you say so."

Berian stepped forwards, and touched a hand to the younger Elf's still damp cheek. It was quickly hit away. "You have been crying. What could possibly have upset the spoilt little Prince?"

"Nothing which concerns you," Calaen spat.

"You are not as polite as you used to be," Berian remarked. "Quite a temperamental child, aren't you?"

"I am not a child," Calaen snarled, "and I have no time for this conversation."

Berian watched as the Prince began walking away. "How is your brother these days? I have not seen much of him."

Calaen paused, but did not turn. "Which one? Airëlus?"

"No, the bratty little thing who throws temper tantrums when he does not get what he wishes for," Berian replied meaningfully. "Have you heard what is being said about him? Not by all, of course. He is still very much loved. But there are still a good few who whisper."

"What do you mean?" Calaen asked, and this time he did turn around.

"Just because I dislike you, it does not mean I feel any happiness at your loss," Berian said carefully. "Your mother's death was tragic, and she was loved by everyone. Some resent the fact that their Queen was taken in the way that she was."

"What do you mean?" Calaen repeated.

"News travels fast. It did not take long for it to be revealed that your mother died because she was trying to get some leaves for your infantile brother," Berian replied. "She died so needlessly, my Prince. Some have even turned against little Legolas."

Calaen shook his head. "That is a lie."

"I do not waste my breath, and I can assure you that I am telling nothing but the truth," Berian said. "But, believe what you will."

"Who has turned against Legolas?" Calaen asked curiously.

"I, for one. The Elves of your father's age dote upon your brother, whilst the older ones look on him as though he was a gift of the Valar. It is mostly those around our age, and that surely cannot be good for Legolas," Berian replied. "He will grow up with this blame placed on him from his own generation. No-one will do anything to harm him, of course, but we still resent him for what he has done, for killing your mother, our Queen."

Calaen turned and walked silently away. What guilt he had initially felt at trying to land his brother in trouble, was now gone. There was now no doubt in his mind. Maybe he had known it all along, but had just needed the confirmation of another. Berian was right. So were those who supported his views. It was all Legolas' fault. Findilan's death; the emptiness and confusion that the dark haired Prince had felt; everything.

Everything was because of Legolas. It was all his fault.

............................................................................................................

After dinner that night, Calaen excused himself from the table, and left to go to his own room. Just as he was about to push open his chamber door, someone grabbed the bottom of his tunic. He looked down, and his green eyes narrowed when he saw who it was.

"What do you want?"

"You haven't answered my question," Legolas said softly.

"And, what question would that be?" Calaen asked. "It cannot have been of any importance if I have forgotten it."

"I wanted to know why you told Ada that you had seen me breaking the vase," Legolas replied. "You know that I didn't. Have I done anything to upset you? Were you trying to get back at me for something?"

"If only you knew." Calaen shook his head and pushed open the door. "Unfortunately you do not, and I am not going to waste my time enlightening you."

Legolas slipped into his brother's room just as the door swung shut. "What do you mean by that? Cal, tell me what I have done. Please."

"Why should I?"

"Because...because I can try and make it better," Legolas said. "But I can't do that if I don't know what I've done."

Calaen glanced down at the Elfling, and shrugged carelessly. "Do you ever have things that you don't want anyone else to know? Things that you want to remain in your own head?"

"Yes," Legolas said quietly.

"Then you will understand and appreciate that I am not going to divulge what thoughts are in my head. Good." Calaen nodded in approval, but paused at the expression on his brother's face. "Put simply, that means I am not telling you anything."

"Why do you hate me?" Legolas suddenly asked.

Calaen blinked in surprised, but swiftly fixed the impassive mask back on his face. "Leave me now. I wish to have some peace and quiet."

"But-

"Leave!"

Legolas stared at his brother for a moment, but then nodded. His eyes were sad. "I will go. Maybe in the morning, you'll tell me why you hate me. I hope so. I don't like knowing that I've done something to hurt you, but not knowing what it is. If you told me, I could change things, and make it all better again."

With that, the Elfling turned and left in silence. Calaen laughed bitterly as the door closed once more. "You could make it all better? Think again, Legolas. Think again."

............................................................................................................

Jedi Gollum: Yeah, EastEnders is British stuff! Well, when I'm finished this, I have two other stories lined up. I'm still thinking about the alternate ending, but to be perfectly honest, that's looking more and more unlikely. But I'm really looking forward to getting started on the other two stories!

Kathysidle: Thank you for trying to make me feel better! Its ok, I can talk to my friends about EastEnders. Its quite funny actually, because as soon as the episode is over, I have like, one friend on my house phone and one friend on my mobile phone, both yelling 'oh my God, did you see EastEnders?!' It happens every night!

Lombadia Greenleaf: Yeah, Sarah's knife could have been put to better use on Calaen!

Elven Kitten: I think that was quite mean of me to make him good, but then to kill him!

Halimanya: Well, throwing him into a crater has good points and bad points. A perfect example, like you said, is that his head might get smashed into mush, so this particular idea might be a little too violent. At the moment, anyway. You killed Coney? Heck, I didn't see that coming!

Jennifer: I know, I do also, even though he is turning into a meanie :(

Vanessa: Do you mean 'A Brother's Jealousy' or 'Captured by the Past', because I finished both of them. If you go onto my bio page, they should both be there. If not, I can only suggest that aliens have stolen them! Yeah, 'Jealousy' is the one where Calaen held just Legolas captive, but 'Captured' is set at the time of the Fellowship. :)

Legolas-gurl88: That's really cool that you're doing King Arthur. Is that in Brit.Lit? It sounds like you do some really interesting stuff in that subject! Yeah, I find him really interesting also. I haven't seen the film yet, but from what I've heard about it, I'm already quite disappointed. I think it's because I've already read the book, and I don't think that the film is very in keeping with the book. Oh well!

Pippin the hobbit-elf: I'm so glad that someone else knows what I'm talking about! What humour pages? As in, the ones on this site? Yeah, I have been to a few, and there are some pretty hilarious things out there! That's cool that you're going as Jack Sparrow for Halloween! Me and my friend were going to go as Aragorn and Legolas, but couldn't get costumes in time, so I'm just gonna stay in with my friends and watch scary movies!

Kel: Well, thanks for the cookies! I can guarantee that the twins will come back into the story. However, I'm sorry to say that it won't be for a while, but they will definitely be in again. I mean, what's a story without Elladan and Elrohir?!

Irish Anor: Here's an update!

Poor Calaen, and nasty Berian! Oh, and poor Legolas. Anyway, updates are back to normal now, because I've sorted myself out, so it's all good. Anyway, the next chapter will be up on Halloween, so see you then!

Misto

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