Eight months had passed since Queen Findilan's death, six months since the day that Legolas had almost been blamed for the breakage of the vase. It was strange, Calaen reflected, as he sat in a tree overlooking the archery grounds, how time went so quickly when you were having fun, and so much more slowly when you were not.

He had tried more than a few times to frame Legolas for various things. He was crafty, and knew that he could not rush into anything. Occasionally his plan would work and his younger brother would be punished, but other times, the child would get away with whatever he had 'done'. Calaen wondered vaguely if today's little trick would work.

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

Legolas picked up his bow and stood patiently, though rather nervously, in line, waiting for his turn to fire ten arrows at a set target. He had recently been moved into a more advanced archery class, and although the other Elflings were only a few years older than him, he was still slightly wary of them. He had made no friends in this group. He had tried, but had always been shunned.

"And Legolas, you're next," Imrathion, the weapons-master, called. No reply. "Legolas, wake up! You're next."

"Oh, sorry." The Prince ignored the giggles of the other Elflings, and stepped forwards to take the place of the little archer who had just had a turn.

Legolas pulled an arrow from his small quiver, and notched it on the bowstring. Keeping his eyes focused, not blinking, he pulled his arm back and waited a few heartbeats before releasing. His silver eyes narrowed as the arrow flew of course. That had never happened before.

'Strange,' he thought, but he did not hesitate to go about the process once more. He got an arrow, notched it, drew his arm back until the string was taut, and released. The same thing happened: the arrow flew directly over the target.

Legolas could hear the giggles and mutters behind him, and could feel the stare of many eyes on him as he loosed another arrow. This one fell three feet short of its destination, and the Prince made a soft noise of despair.

"Do not give up," Imrathion said. "You'll never get it unless you practice."

"But I can do it normally," Legolas protested. "I don't know why-

"Stop wasting time. Either try again or give up," was the sharp reply.

Legolas turned back to the target, took a deep breath to calm himself, and pulled another arrow from his quiver. But his nervousness in front of the other Elflings had made his hands tremble so much, that as he tried to notch it, it fell to the ground. More eruptions of giggles at this.

"No laughter," Imrathion snapped. "Legolas, over here. The rest of you carry on."

The Prince went over to the far side of the archery grounds, and looked up at his trainer nervously. "Yes, Imrathion?"

As the weapons-master regarded his student, his expression softened – all of his sharpness was merely a front. "Something must be troubling you, little one. It is rare that you miss a target."

"I'm sorry," Legolas muttered.

"Let me look at your arrows," Imrathion said suddenly. As the quiver was un-strapped, he pulled some towards him. After examining them for a moment, he frowned. "No wonder you were not shooting correctly. Legolas, when you first began archery, you were taught to always check your equipment before shooting."

"Yes." As the Prince looked into Imrathion's eyes, he realised what was being implied. "But I did check them."

"Obviously not well enough," the Elf replied. "Look, these arrows have been feathered incorrectly. And these! Legolas, they are bent. How could that have escaped your notice?"

"But-

"There are no excuses for negligence," Imrathion said, some of his sharpness returning. "If you wish to be a warrior, you need to think like one, as well as act like one."

Legolas lowered his eyes, but snapped them up again almost immediately as movement in the trees caught his attention. He thought he glimpsed dark hair and a familiar, triumphant face. He could not be sure, though.

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

King Thranduil looked up in irritation as his study door was opened, expecting it to be yet more paperwork for him. It wasn't. "Ah Legolas, what are you doing here? I thought you were still in lessons."

"I was," the Prince said sullenly. "I was at archery."

"I see." Thranduil glanced out of the window, and his sharp eyes noticed that his son's class had not yet finished.

"I...I have a note for you," Legolas muttered. He stepped forwards and glared at the rolled up parchment for a moment, before throwing it onto his father's desk.

The Elven-king shot the child a sharp look, but said nothing as he un-rolled the parchment, and let his eyes skim over the words. Legolas stood in front of the desk, bow held loosely in one hand, foot tapping nervously on the floor. Eventually, Thranduil looked up.

"Do you know what is written here?"

"No, I...yes. Yes, I do know, and it's not my fault that I did it all wrong," Legolas suddenly exploded. "I thought I had checked my arrows properly, but I didn't. And I don't care any more, because I'm not going back!"

With that, he flung his bow across the room. It clattered to the floor, and the child glared furiously at it. Behind the desk, Thranduil's eyes flashed slightly, but he was calm as he leaned forwards and said, "First of all you are going to pick up that bow and put it somewhere so that it does not fall. Secondly, you will calm down. And thirdly, you will explain your attitude."

Legolas carried out the first order without a fuss, his cheeks burning. When he had leaned the bow against the wall, and made sure that it wouldn't fall, instead of going to stand in front of the desk, he went behind it and climbed onto his father's lap. He had grown only a little in the last few months, and it would be a long time before he was either too old or too big to stop doing this.

Thranduil sighed as Legolas pressed his face into his chest. "What has upset you? Is it just the fact that Imrathion sent you away from the lesson? That is nothing to worry about. It used to happen all the time to your brothers."

"They...they laughed at me," Legolas muttered.

"Who did?" Thranduil asked gently.

The Prince turned his face up, and sighed deeply. "The other Elflings. I didn't even shoot a single arrow correctly, and every time I missed, they laughed, and I heard some of them say that I was stupid, and I shouldn't be in their advanced class."

"Is this the first time they have done such things?" Thranduil asked, troubled.

"No. They don't like me very much," Legolas admitted. "I tried to make friends with them, but because I got moved up, they're all older and bigger than me. And they're better at archery. I should have stayed in the other class."

Thranduil shook his head as the miserable child sighed again. "Never put yourself down, ion-nin. Everyone has days when they cannot, for some reason, perform to the best of their abilities. Something must be troubling you, for this to happen."

"Imrathion said that, but it was the arrows," Legolas replied. "I don't mean it was their fault that I did it all wrong, but I don't understand. I checked them before I started, Ada. I always do. They were fine."

"So, what happened?"

"I was sorting through them when one of the girls came up to me. She asked me to do up the strap on her quiver because she couldn't reach. So, I did," Legolas said. "And then when I turned back, another Elfling was...oh."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Was what?" He had a good idea, though.

"He...his hand was moving away from my arrows, and when he saw me, he smiled, and he never does that," Legolas said quietly. "I understand now. He changed them. Ada, I should've realised."

As Thranduil embraced the sad child, his eyes flashed furiously. What right did those brats have to torment his son in such a way? The Elven-king curled his lip in disgust, making a mental note to speak with Imrathion about his students, and if the weapons-master did nothing, he would just have to speak to the children himself. May the Valar protect them if it came to that.

"Ada, what shall I do now?"

"Well, I think there is someone who would like to see you," Thranduil replied. "Imrathion's lesson will be finished soon enough, and the archery grounds will be free for a while. If you ask nicely, I am sure that this someone will help you practice."

Legolas tilted his head to one side in confusion, but as realisation dawned, his face brightened, and he leaped down to the ground. Grabbing his bow, he dashed over to the door, pausing only to say "Bye, Ada!"

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

Five minutes later, Legolas had reached his destination. Without even bothering to knock, he pushed open the door and ran into the room. "Airëlus!" he cried.

The Crown Prince turned around, and gasped as his youngest brother slammed against his chest. Smiling, he wrapped both arms around the boy, and kissed the top of his head. "Legolas, it is so good to see you again."

"I've missed you so much," the Elfling whispered. "You were gone for...for years."

"No, it was only a month," Airëlus laughed. "Not years, silly."

"Still, I wanted you here," Legolas sighed. "I know that you have to go out with the patrol because it is your job and you're one of the best warriors in Mirkwood, but it doesn't feel the same without you here. And you're gone for so long."

"That is because I am trusted by the Captain of the Guard to go further afield, even out of Mirkwood, and for longer periods of time," Airëlus replied. "I know you do not like it, Greenleaf, but you said it yourself: it is my job."

Legolas nodded. "I suppose."

"Anyway, what are you doing here?" Airëlus asked, setting his brother down on the bed so that he could change into cleaner clothes. "I would've come to see you myself, as soon as I got here, but I thought that you and Calaen had lessons today."

Legolas grinned as he swiftly explained what had happened. In his joy at his brother's return, he forgot to mention the fact that his arrows had been deliberately changed. As he pulled of his tunic, Airëlus' brow creased. That was strange; it was rare for the child to have a bad archery session.

"Anyway, Ada said that if I ask you nicely, you might help me practice," Legolas finished. He glazed up at the elder Prince through long lashes, and smiled. "Airëlus? Please will you help me practice?"

"I would love to, but I wanted to have a bath," the fair haired Elf replied. "It has been a while since I last washed properly, because the patrol is always on the move. I probably smell."

"You always do."

Airëlus narrowed his eyes slightly. "That, Legolas Greenleaf, is certainly not being nice. You haven't got a hope of me helping you now."

.The Elfling's face fell, and he reached out to take his brother's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't actually mean it. I think that you smell very nice, like...well, nice things, and I love you a lot, and I'll do anything if you help me, because there's no-one else I want to help. Except Ada. That would be nice. But he's busy, and you're not. Please?"

"I was jesting with you," Airëlus said gently. "Of course I will help you. I don't suppose you're going to let me wash first though, are you?"

"Yes, if you must," Legolas shrugged. "But hurry up!"

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

Calaen leaned back against the tree trunk, and smiled as the younger Elves finished explaining how Legolas had been sent away from the archery lesson. He nodded in approval – having everyone witness his failure must have been a blow to the small Prince's pride.

"So, you did a good job," Calaen commented. "He was sent with a note to our father, you say?"

"Correct," one of the children replied.

"That is good. Yes, very good." The dark haired Prince smiled, and his eyes were bright. "He will not be able to worm his way out of this one. You see, I have been sent away from lessons before, and not once has my father let it pass."

"There's a first time for everything," one of the other Elves said quietly.

Calaen laughed derisively, though he broke off sharply when his gaze caught something else: Airëlus was walking onto the field. He would have been happy to see his elder brother, if not for the other who was with him: Legolas. The Prince growled low in his throat, and shot the children a look of venom, which sent them all running.

"Damn you, Legolas," he hissed.

Narrowing his eyes, Calaen got up and moved slowly and silently across the large field, not once taking his gaze from his two brothers. Airëlus was kneeling behind Legolas, occasionally tapping him on the shoulder, indicating that he should straighten up or relax his body. As he watched Legolas shoot five arrows perfectly, Calaen cursed under his breath.

But then he paused, and fixed a look of happiness on his face. "Airëlus, you're back" he cried, dashing forwards to his brothers.

Legolas glanced over and said nothing, but the Crown Prince jumped up and embraced Calaen, unaware of the emerald eyes staring malevolently over his shoulder to meet wary silver ones. He smiled, and clapped the dark haired Elf on the shoulder.

"When did you get back?" Calaen asked.

"Only about an hour ago," Airëlus replied. "How are you? You certainly look well."

"As do you," Calaen smirked. "Found yourself a maiden yet?"

"Oh yes, because there are so many females on patrol." Airëlus rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No, I have not. Nor do I want one, thank you very much."

"Oh please, you must have encountered at least one woman on your travels," Calaen pressed.

"Believe it or not, my heart does not lie with women," Airëlus replied. At the look on his brother's face, he shook his head in irritation. "I do not mean that, Calaen. I mean that my heart lies in battle, with knives and arrows, and the exhilaration of fighting. That is what I enjoy, so if you don't mind, will you leave it now? Anyway, why are you interrogating me? I asked the first question. How are you?"

"I...I..." Calaen sighed, and turned slightly so that Legolas was blocked out of the conversation. "I need to speak with you. Alone, if possible."

The Crown Prince arched an eyebrow, though his expression was troubled. "Is something wrong, Cal? Has something happened?"

"Please, this would be much better discussed alone," the other Elf said quietly.

"Airëlus, are you going?" asked Legolas, speaking for the first time since Calaen's arrival.

"You're alright on your own for a while, surely?" Airëlus said. "I helped you with your archery, as promised."

"But you haven't spent very much time with me," Legolas sighed.

Calaen suddenly moved forwards and put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, smiling gently. "Please, just let me and Airëlus have a few minutes. You have had your time with him, and now I want mine. That's fair, is it not?"

Legolas blinked in surprise – why was Calaen suddenly being nice? But then realisation dawned. How could he have forgotten? The dark haired Elf always played the loving brother when there was anyone else around.

"Don't be selfish, Legolas," Airëlus said.

The Elfling lowered his gaze and nodded. "Sorry," he muttered. He sensed his eldest brother moving away, and when he looked up once more, he looked into Calaen's sparkling green eyes. The other Elf smirked and followed Airëlus, leaving a wary Legolas behind.

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Jedi Gollum: Oh yes, definitely LOTR stories. I'm not done being mean to these poor people yet!

Legolas-gurl88: Some of the Elvish names I made up myself, like Calaen and Airëlus, and a few others, but I just go onto google and type in Elvish names, so that helps a lot. Cool, you're doing a project on Merlin? I like Merlin – from what I've seen of him in books and films, he seems really nice! Anyway, I sent you an e-mail earlier, so hopefully I'll speak to you later!

Elensar32: Hello again! No, it doesn't sound strange that you like Calaen, cos I like him also, even though I know what he does in the future. No, you're right – Berian is from Rivendell, but he was originally from Mirkwood. You'll find out more about that as the story progresses!

Lombadia Greenleaf and Kel: Here's your update!

Kathysidle: Well, I won't say anything about chicken, cos I think I mentioned it in an e-mail I sent you, and also, people will start to think I'm crazy. Not that they don't think that already.

Haldir's Heart and Soul: Yes, Berian and Calaen are very different, but something happens in a few chapters time to change things. I'll say no more!

Utsuri: Yay, a new reviewer! I have to say that you're the first person I know of to have read this before reading the other two. That's not a problem though, cos there's nothing you need to know from those two to understand this. I'm sorry for making you cry! I really don't mean to! Yeah, I can relate so much to Cal. Like, everything that he did in the chapter 21, they're my own experiences. Not being horrible to my brother, but the rest of it. Anyway, here's an update for you!

Halimanya: Yep, Berian is very evil! Yeah, I feel sorry for Legolas also, but possibly even more so for Calaen. Even though he's mean. How strange!

Anyway, that was that chapter, and the next update will be on Tuesday. Ugh, I have to go back to college tomorrow after having a week off. Oh, by the way, Happy Halloween! Why do people say that it's happy? I've never got that.

Anyways, see you soon!

Misto

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