Legolas sat at the side of the archery field, his quiver lying in front of him. There was a neat pile of arrows just beside him, and as soon as he finished examining one, he would carefully place it with the others. After all, he didn't want a repeat performance of his previous archery lesson, especially if Airëlus would be there.

The Elfling sighed, and pulled his fingers through the feathers – despite his not very happy mood, he couldn't help smiling as they tickled him. He had come to the conclusion that his family was definitely upset. Thranduil had hardly spoken at breakfast; Airëlus had been nearly silent; and Calaen…well, he had all but destroyed his own room. Where he was now, Legolas did not know.

"I hope he hasn't gone far into the forest," the child thought. "Ada wouldn't be happy with him."

Just as he was about to pick up another arrow to examine, Legolas heard a soft noise behind him. He turned, and a smile spread across his face as he saw who it was. But when he realised that Airëlus was wearing the uniform he wore when on patrol, his face fell.

"What's happening?" he asked uncertainly.

The Crown Prince sighed, and shook his head. "Legolas, I am so sorry."

"You're going," the child said softly. "Why? You only got back yesterday, and you're not supposed to leave for at least another week. You told me that the further you travel, and the harder you work, the more time with your family you get."

"I know…" Airëlus raised his eyes skywards, as if searching for an easy explanation up there.

"So why are you going?" Legolas pressed.

'I am going because I am barely on speaking terms with our father,' Airëlus thought bitterly. 'He has been keeping a secret from all of us for years, and now he refuses to tell Calaen, who is the one who deserves to know this thing. I am going, Legolas, because I need some time away from here to straighten things out in my mind.'

Legolas reached up and caught his brother's hand. "Don't go. Please."

"I must," Airëlus replied. "Listen, I will be away for only a few weeks, and-

"But that's a few weeks too long!" the Elfling snapped, stamping his foot.

"If you make a scene, Legolas, I will leave right now," Airëlus murmured, as several soldiers standing around looked up. "I am in no mood for your temper today."

Legolas lowered his eyes. "Anyway, you can't go. Not yet. Last night, when I came into your room and I had that dream, I told you what Calaen said to me: that having a blanket made me look like a baby. You said you would talk to him."

Airëlus cursed silently. What he had been told that morning had completely wiped that from his mind. Yes, he had promised to talk to Calaen, but now Legolas' problem seemed trivial and unimportant, when compared to everything else that was happening.

"You said that you would," Legolas pressed.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but-

"You're going to break a promise," the Elfling said accusingly. "You shouldn't do that."

"I have apologised already."

Legolas just glared silently at the elder Prince. If truth be told, he couldn't care less about Airëlus talking to Calaen. After all, what was one mocking taunt out of a thousand others? He was used to it by now, even though he hated it. But still, he had hoped that saying this would make his brother stay for at least a little while longer.

"Just because you apologise for breaking a promise, it doesn't make it better," Legolas said eventually.

That was it. Airëlus caught the child's hand – it was still twisted in his tunic – and pushed him away. "If you are so desperate to have this sorted out, Legolas, then talk to Calaen yourself. I have more important things to do."

The little Prince looked at his brother, stunned. "Alright. Alright, I will, if you don't care."

Airëlus knelt in front of the child, so that they were at eye level. "Legolas, I am so sorry. I lost my temper, and I know I should not have done. I should not have taken my anger out on you. Please, forgive me."

"I do," Legolas replied softly.

The Crown Prince sighed deeply. "I would stay if I could, but unfortunately, one of the… one of the soldiers from the patrol going out today is injured, so…they asked if I could take his place. I couldn't say no."

"I suppose," Legolas agreed.

'Valar forgive me for lying to him, but I cannot tell him the truth,' Airëlus thought. 'Not yet. It would do too much damage. He would not understand.'

"Are you going soon?" Legolas asked.

"What? Oh, the patrol is leaving in thirty minutes or so," Airëlus replied. "I came to tell you I was going, but I also wanted to ask you where Calaen is."

"Oh. I don't know," Legolas replied, busying himself with his arrows once more.

"But I thought that you were asked to go and see why he did not come to breakfast," Airëlus said slowly.

"Ye-es."

"So, where is he?"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "He was still asleep the last time I saw him, but he could be awake now, so how am I supposed to know where he is?"

"Alright, I will go and…" Airëlus trailed off as his sharp Elven eyes caught sight of movement in the trees on the other side of the field. When he realised what was happening, he cursed, and set off at a sprint.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As soon as Calaen left the palace, he had headed straight for the trees. He had sat on a branch for what must have been about twenty minutes, staring unseeingly at the archery field and training grounds ahead of him. No thoughts had been in his mind, no emotions had swirled through him – in those moments, he had been aware of nothing, as he sat on his own.

But then, as the training grounds had begun to fill up with Elves, he had been snapped out of the almost calm world he had created for himself, where no-one else existed. The cheerful shouts of soldiers, the whistling of arrows and the clashing of practice knives had invaded his privacy though, and it was then he realised that there was a place he would truly be alone – where Findilan had died.

So he had jumped down silently from his branch, and begun creeping through the trees on the edge of the training ground. His heart was not in it at all, but he smiled vaguely to anyone who greeted him, so, when a cool voice said, "Calaen, fancy seeing you here," he merely nodded as a way of acknowledgement.

"Is the Prince not going to be a little more polite?"

Calaen froze, and turned slowly. At any other time, his heart would have sunk, but today, he felt nothing. "Berian, I did not see you and your rabble."

The young soldier growled low in his throat, and his friends who were standing behind, narrowed their eyes. "I would watch your manners if I were you."

"Would you? And if I were you, I would take a long run off a small cliff," Calaen shot back. "But sadly, I am not you, therefore I am unable to do Arda one of the biggest favours ever seen."

Berian's eyes flashed in fury, and he reached out and grabbed the younger Elf by his tunic. "You tread on dangerous ground. I care nothing for your title – if you think it will stop me from teaching you a valuable lesson, think again."

Calaen waited for something, anything, to happen. It didn't. He looked up and smiled grimly. "Then, where would this lesson be? Strike me, if you dare." A pause, during which emerald eyes locked onto light blue ones. Nothing else happened. "Ah, I see. You do not dare."

"You see? And, is that the only thing that you see?" Berian snarled, pushing Calaen back against a tree. "Open your eyes a little wider, Prince, and then maybe you will see more. All your life, you have been blind – blind to what is right in front of you."

Calaen drew in a sharp breath as realisation dawned. "No…"

"You cannot see what everyone else can," Berian hissed. "Is it not obvious? Damn it, it is right in front of you! Can you not put two and two together? Even if you were to work it out, I would not benefit at all, but still, I wish you would realise, because your stupidity really is enough to make me want to kill myself, and-

"I know!" Calaen shouted, pushing Berian's hands away. "I know about it!"

The soldier blinked in surprise. "You know about…the human? But it was kept secret from you. Everyone knows that."

"I found out today," Calaen snapped.

"Who told-

"No-one, I overheard a conversation!" the Prince yelled. "I had to stand and listen to the real truth about me being told. And no-one knows. No-one is aware that I know."

Some of the Elves standing behind Berian shifted uncomfortably, and Calaen thought he could see sympathy on their faces. The fair haired soldier himself seemed to hesitate as he took in the information, and when he took a step forward and began speaking, he sounded uncertain.

"You see? You are no Prince. You are not the son of the King, are you?" Berian asked.

"That is not true, I-

"You are not even a proper Elf," Berian continued.

"Shut up."

"You are a disgrace to the Elven race, half-blood!"

"Shut up!"

"In fact, I am sure it will not be long before the King gets rid of you. And about time too."

"No!"

Without warning, Calaen leapt forwards and pushed Berian to the forest floor. Eyes blazing with fury, he grabbed the other Elf's head, and slammed it down onto the ground. The soldier was too stunned to even try and hold back the Prince's fist as blows began to rain down onto his body. He had never even known that Calaen possessed such strength.

Berian's friends were still standing around in uncomfortable silence. Although it crossed their minds to help him, none of them did. They knew that this was his own fault – he had crossed the line. Even they themselves would not have thought to go this far.

"He'll get killed," one of them whispered.

"Don't be so ridiculous, the Prince wouldn't do that," another replied.

"He's doing a fine job of it," came another comment.

Just when one of the bystanders was about to go and separate the fighting Elves, Airëlus ran onto the scene. Calaen raised his hand again, but as he brought it down, the Crown Prince leapt forwards and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back.

"What are you doing?" Airëlus snapped, spinning his brother around to face him. As his eyes met Calaen's, he felt another surge of pity mixed with love for him, but of course, he had to push that aside for the moment.

Calaen licked some blood away from his lower lip – he may have been in control of the fight, but he had not escaped unscathed. "Let go of me!"

"What are you doing?" Airëlus repeated angrily, shaking the other Elf.

"He deserved it!" Calaen yelled.

The dark haired Prince wrenched himself away and turned back to Berian, who was being helped to his feet. As fury overcame him again, he went to rush forwards. Airëlus, however, grabbed him once more. Blinded by rage, Calaen spun around, and for the first time in his life, struck his brother across the face.

No-one expected a fight to ensue between the two Princes. Calaen's anger gave him a strength he himself had never known he possessed, but he used that to his advantage. As he thought back to what he had heard that morning, his temper was fuelled. He hit Airëlus again, and the Crown Prince's lip split under the blow.

"What do you think you're doing?" Airëlus yelled, pushing his brother away from him.

Before Calaen could retaliate, both Princes were grabbed from behind by some of the older soldiers who had been training, but had been distracted by the fighting. One of them, Suithien, a commander of a patrol, looked at Airëlus through unreadable eyes, but his voice conveyed exactly what everyone else thought.

"I would not expect this from you," he said coolly.

Airëlus glared at Calaen, but immediately dropped his gaze. He could not feel real anger at him, even though it was the other Elf's fault that he had just been put down by his captain, in front of everyone. He tried to be angry at his brother, but again, could feel nothing but sadness, pity and love for him.

"Let go of me," Calaen muttered, trying to pull his arm away from the soldier who had him in a tight grip.

"I am afraid not," Suithien said regretfully. "This must be reported to your father."

Calaen's heart pounded painfully. He could not face the King – it was too soon. "Please, don't…"

"Take them to King Thranduil," Suithien said to two of the soldiers. He looked at the younger Prince, and said softly, "I am sorry, but he has to know."

Berian wiped some blood from his lip, and looked meaningfully at Calaen. "Forgive me," he said quietly.

"You have done enough!" Airëlus snapped.

"As have you," Suithien said sharply. He nodded to the soldiers. "Go on, take them. As for you, Berian… clean yourself up, and then report back to me."

The fair haired Elf nodded nervously. "Yes sir."

As he walked away, Berian closed his eyes tightly, and cursed himself over and over again. Why had he said that? Any of it? Why had he not been able to keep his thoughts to himself? Valar, most of what he had said was heat of the moment words. He did not hate Calaen – he was jealous of him. He resented the fact that the son of a human was a Prince of Mirkwood. His temper and jealousy always got him carried away.

Little did either of them know, but the soldier and Prince had more in common than was thought.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Irish Anor: Well, I told Calaen about this shrink, and he said that he'd pop along and see her. But he also said that we shouldn't get our hopes up. He thinks that he's beyond hope, but if this shrink called Irish Anor can help him, he'd be very grateful.

Elven Kitten: Yep, me too! I feel horrible when I write the chapters when he's feeling particularly depressed! I mean, he hasn't done anything, but I'm really nasty to the poor guy!!!

Lombadia Greenleaf: Yeah, how inconvenient is Deorfel? I mean, he could have chosen a better time to die! I like strawberries also! Now that I'm typing this, I've started thinking about them, and I'm really hungry for them! But I don't think I have any on the house. Boo hoo! Oh, apparently there is no such word as 'hoo'. My spellchecker just told me it doesn't exist. Well, how very rude.

Halimanya: Yep, unfortunate definitely describes him!

Little-Legolas-Lover: Glad you like it!

Don't worry, Airëlus isn't going anywhere. I mean, he's only been back for a few chapters, and I wouldn't be nasty enough to send him off again. Right, now, I have a very good friend on here, and she has very kindly written a sonnet based on 'A Brother's Jealousy'. Her name is Legolas-gurl88, so if you would like to read her sonnet, just go to her bio page, and you'll find it there. Might I add that she has also written some very good stories. I nearly had a heart attack when I read her latest cliffhanger.

Anyway, I have to go and write some essays. What fun.

Luv Misto

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