Chapter Four

"What's your purpose in Mirkwood?" came a voice to Elrond's right. He turned his head and saw a green and brown clad warrior standing in a tree a few yards away, his bow pointed at the elf lord's head. Elrond smiled. Though the greeting wasn't exactly diplomatic, it was good to know they had finally reached the borders of Mirkwood and would soon reach Lasgalen. The journey wasn't that long, but it still wore on its travelers.

Glorfindel spoke up before Elrond had a chance to answer the young warrior. "Do you great all your guests with such manners?" He said coolly. The young warrior didn't lower his bow, but a small flicker of apprehension crossed his face. "You had better learn to recognize a friend when you see them. That is Lord Elrond of Rivendell you are currently aiming your arrow at."

The young warrior's eyes widened in horror before he quickly lowered his bow. "Forgive me," he squawked, his head shaking a little. "I've never laid eyes upon you before, I did not recognize you."

"No harm done," Lord Elrond said, smiling at the warrior to show there were no hard feelings. "Perhaps you could show us the way to Lasgalen? I fear we are ill equipped to travel the path alone."

The warrior nodded. "I will take you to Captain Kabain and he will organize a party to take you to the King," the young warrior announced, hopping down from the branch he stood on. Elrond and company dismounted as well. "It is good that you ran into a patrol," the warrior continued as they started on their way to find the captain. "The paths through Mirkwood have become treacherous. There have been more orc sightings than we know how to deal with."

"Is that so?" Elrond spoke up, frowning as he looked back at Glorfindel. "I did not know that Mirkwood had a problem with orcs. I only thought there were a few incidents scattered about."

The warrior moved as if to speak, but then closed his mouth, thinking better of it. Elrond noticed this, but said nothing. "I'll let Captain Kabain or the king himself inform you of Mirkwood's dealings." Elrond chuckled a bit to himself. The one thing that defined a Mirkwood warrior was their uncanny ability to hide information, even from their closest of allies.

It didn't take long to find the patrol's camp. Once they had reached the small clearing, Elrond noticed that, unlike the patrols in the past, most of the warriors that now fought were seasoned warriors. There were very few younger, fresh warriors in the ranks. Elrond frowned at this. But he didn't have the time to ponder the situation before Captain Kabain stepped into Elrond's path.

"Mae Govannen," Kabain said, holding his hand over his chest. Elrond mirrored the greeting and bowed slightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Elrond. I hope your journey was a pleasant one?"

"Indeed," Elrond nodded and held out his hand to his wife. "This is my wife, Celebrian and my sons, Elladan and Elrohir." They each bowed respectively. "And this is Lord Glorfindel."

Elrond noticed that a few of the warriors around the encampment stopped what they were doing to look up at the mentioned name. He smiled as he saw Captain Kabain's eyes wander over Glorfindel, judging him in a fascinated manner. But soon, the elf captain collected himself and turned back to Elrond. "I will arrange for a few warriors to accompany you to see the King. You should rest for the remainder of the day and tomorrow you will start off early. If all goes well, you will make it to Lasgalen late tomorrow night. You will be riding swift, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Elrond sighed in his relief. He didn't like the delay of a day, but normally the ride from the encampment to Lasgalen took a day and a half. If they could make it there by the following night, Elrond would be pleased. He had been rather antsy to reach Lasgalen and Thranduil. Lately, his thoughts had been plagued with the royal families misgivings. He knew his presence was needed.

After settling down and joining Captain Kabain and a few other warriors for an evening meal, Elladan and Elrohir wandered off to talk with a few of the other warriors, marveling in the strictness of Mirkwood's army.

They found a group of younger warriors sitting around a fire, talking gently to themselves. The brothers asked permission to sit down with them before they too sat down and watched the stew that was brewing over the fire. There was an awkward quietness between the four young warriors and the twins before one of the young ones broke it with a question. "Is he truly the real Glorfindel?"

Elladan grinned and looked behind him at the blonde elf who had taken to a tree near Kabain and was talking quietly about orcs or some darkness. "It truly is, though you'd never think that once you knew him."

"Why not?" Another young warrior asked. "I knew there was something special about him when he walked into the encampment. He radiates nobility."

Elrohir had to stifle his laughter at the comment. If Elrohir had to choose words to describe Glorfindel, noble would not be one of them. Though the elf lord could switch his personality at will, the Glorfindel that Elrohir and his brother knew and loved was indeed anything but noble. Glorfindel was odd, estranged, comical, and witty. But noble? Elrohir had never looked at Glorfindel as being a noble elf, but he supposed that other elves who had never known the elf lord would see him as noble.

"Does he tell tales of his fight with the balrog?" Another warrior asked.

"Not many," Elladan answered. "He does not remember the fight. He only has a few visions here and there about it." This brought everyone quiet, leaving the young warriors to think about it. Elladan looked around them and finally he could not contain his question anymore. "Tell me," he began. "Why is it that there are so few freshly trained warriors out here? Does Thranduil keep them back near to the palace? Or are no young warriors being trained?"

The four warriors they were seated with looked at each other, deciding how to answer. Finally, one of them spoke up. "Many of the younger warriors are spread throughout the patrols. But the orcs grow in number every day. We do not always win our fights and when we are forced to retreat, we are forced to leave the bodies of those fallen behind, along with our wounded."

"Orcs will corner the younger, less experienced warriors," continued another. "It seems lately that their attention is solely on the unexperienced."

"When we come back to see if any are still alive, there are bodies missing," yet another went on to explain. "It's hard to explain, but it was as if the orcs were capturing the young ones."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other. This was distressing news. No wonder Mirkwood was falling so quickly into shadow. It was losing it's children. Though warriors were not considered children anymore, they were still young. To lose an elf in battle was hard enough, but to lose someone who had barely begun to live, that was even harder.

"And this news does not bother the King?" Elrohir asked.

The four were quiet for a moment, hesitant to answer. "The king has more important things to deal with at the moment."

Thranduil rubbed his temples in utter frustration. He looked angrily at his middle son, trying to control his temper. Why were his children turning against him like this? Had he been that unfit of a father? Kelderas had reason behind his insanity, he had been grieving and had wanted to take action. But looking upon Luthin, who held his ground firmly, Thranduil barely knew what his son was trying to say. Luthin had stormed into the dinning room where Kelderas and Thranduil had been sitting quietly, trying to enjoy their morning meals, and had started to rant about how Thranduil was ignoring the needs of his children.

He was not ignoring anyone's needs. The idea was preposterous. If his children needed something, all they had to do was ask. He would give it to them, without question, as long as it was his to give.

"What do you mean, Luthin?" Thranduil asked, eyeing his son with displeasing glares.

"Do you not even care if your children cry out at night in fear?" Luthin yelled. Thranduil frowned. He hadn't heard anyone crying out. "Legolas needed you," Luthin looked at Kelderas. "He needed all of you! How many times has he woken up while I've been gone to find no one there for him when he was scared?"

"Luthin, I've gone into Legolas' room many times while you've been gone…" Thranduil stated. He frowned. "And so has Idrial."

"Many times, but not all times." Luthin took a deep breath to keep himself sane. "Adar, Legolas needs you. He's just a child…"

"I know that!" Thranduil exploded. "I know he is only a child and I know he scares during the night from visions I couldn't begin to imagine." Thranduil ignored the shocked and somewhat fearful look that had come onto both of his sons' faces at their father's outburst. "I try to be there for him when he needs me, but how am I to know when he needs me if he does not ask for me?"

"Adar, he will not ask for you, he doesn't know that he should when he is scared. He's a child…"

Thranduil slammed his fists down onto the table. "Don't question my ability as a father!" He screamed. Luthin took a step back and Thranduil felt a twinge of guilt race through his heart. Ai, when did I lose myself like this? Narsine, why did you leave me. You could handle this, not me. This is something you would always deal with. "Legolas will never get over his fears if he always has someone holding his hand to help him get through it. One day, there will be no one there to hold his hand and he needs to know that."

Luthin and Kelderas remained quiet, both their eyes inching away from their father's and towards the dinning hall door, which had opened during Thranduil's outburst. The king turned swiftly, looking fearfully at Idrial, whose face was fallen and eyes burning with tears. Then his eyes fell upon Legolas, who clung to her skirts, staring at his father but not really seeing him.

"Legolas…" Thranduil could only whisper. The young prince bit his lower lip.

"Not hungry," Legolas whispered before he turned and fled. Idrial gave one sour and hurt look towards her father before running after her brother.

Thranduil sunk into his chair, a hand to his head. Ai Elbereth, what have I done?

"Legolas will never be alone, as long as I live," Luthin growled between clenched teeth and then hurried after Idrial and his brother. Thranduil didn't watch him go. He looked up at Kelderas and found his oldest son close to tears. They sat quietly for a moment, neither of them eating, before Kelderas pushed back in his chair and stood. He didn't announce his departure and Thranduil would have been angry, but to the King, he knew that his children were already gone. Thranduil merely closed his eyes and gave a prayer to the Valar to bring his children back, to bring his family back. Things were falling apart.

"Legolas…" Idrial cooed to her brother, who had ran ahead of her and had dashed beneath the covers of her bed before she could catch up to him. "Legolas, please…"

Luthin entered the room, closing the door behind him. He took in the scene and sighed. Idrial turned to him and he was heartbroken to see her in tears, some of which had already slipped down her cheeks. He put a hand on her shoulder and kneeled down next to her, looking at the shaking bundle beneath the blankets.

"Legolas?" Luthin tried, but got not response. "Legolas, Adar…he…he didn't mean what he said," he paused for a moment, wondering if his brother even knew what had been said. "He's just…sad."

"About Nana?" the muffled voice came and Idrial sat up, knowing they were reaching their younger brother.

"Yes," she whispered, reaching out and rubbing where she thought Legolas's upper back was. "He misses her. We all do. He's not angry with you, and he doesn't love you any less."

"I don't wanna be alone!" Legolas shouted, sitting up suddenly. His face appeared, the blanket surrounding him with only a few strands of hair falling out. His face was red and tear stained and still more fell even as a sob broke out of him. "No alone!"

A sob broke away from Idrial and she reached forward, wrapping her arms around Legolas' shaking body. She stroked his head and kissed his face. "No, never." She said, strongly so Legolas would hear the truth behind her words. "Not so long as I live."

"Or I," Luthin added.

"Or Kelderas?" Legolas asked. Idrial and Luthin both cringed.

"Or Kelderas," Idrial said, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then why does he hate me?" Legolas asked, another sob breaking out from him. Idrial hugged him again, struggling with what to say.

"He doesn't hate you!" Luthin exasperated. "He's just…just stubborn and hurting. He takes after Adar and they are both saddened and infuriating and they don't know how to deal with the grief so they do stupid things…"

"Kelderas not stupid!" Legolas yelled and suddenly he lashed out at Luthin, catching the elf off guard as a tiny fist hit him squarely in the jaw. He fell backwards a bit, landing on his backside. Idrial pulled away from her youngest brother and looked at him with shock and horror. Legolas had never been violent before, never with any of them. Luthin rubbed his jaw a bit, sitting up. It didn't hurt, but it would probably leave a mark.

"Legolas…I didn't mean…" Luthin began, but was cut off when Legolas looked at Idrial and broke out into sobs. Idrial rubbed his back and guided his head to her shoulder. They sat there quietly until Legolas fell asleep. Idrial sat whispering quietly to him even after his breathing had slowed. Luthin stared at a spot on the wall, lost in thought. He hadn't meant to call Kelderas stupid. He didn't think his brother was stupid at all. He loved his family, he loved them so much. He didn't know why he had exploded at them earlier, or got so frustrated with them while thinking about them.

Quietly, Luthin stood up and put a hand on Idrial's shoulder. She nodded, gently guiding Legolas back onto his bed, where he curled up with a blanket. She stayed a moment longer before following her brother out the door.

Thanks to all who read and review! I like to hear people's viewpoints so I know what is expected of me.

Daw the minstrel: Yes, it is amazing how Luthin has seemed to fully healed from the tragedy. But has he really? ;-) His mother died and then right away he was sent on a very vigorous training. Perhaps there is still more to him than I've showed yet. And yes, poor Legolas. Elrond is definitely needed.