The quill hovered over the piece of parchment as Legolas closed his eyes, trying to recall the correct spellings that he had learnt for his test in Sindarin. There were twenty words that had to be translated from Westron, and so far, he had managed nineteen. But for the life of him, he just could not remember the last one. His mind had gone blank, and he really could not…oh. As realisation hit, he flushed, and quickly lowered his pen to scribble the correct spelling.

"What caused that pink tinge on your cheeks?" Ameldir asked.

Legolas smiled as he handed the test to his tutor. "I didn't know how to spell 'nightingale' in Sindarin. And then I thought of Lúthien, and I realised how silly it was that I had forgotten how to spell the last part of her name."

"I see. Well, I will mark this for you, and then we can move on to some other work," the elder Elf replied.

Making a face, Legolas turned away and began to draw patterns on the desk with the tip of his finger. As he watched the formation of strange shapes, his mind drifted away to his father, and he could not help but sigh deeply. Thranduil was no longer seen around the palace. Last week, he had started to isolate himself, locking the doors to his private rooms, and not even coming to meals. His advisors had started to lose their tempers in the council meetings, claiming in loud voices that the absence of their King made their jobs impossible.

But what did Legolas care about that? The absence of his father was making his life even worse than it had been before. He had pleaded with Círhael to do something, but the elder Elf had only muttered: "Ada will be fine. Just wait." But that was no reassurance. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had left for Lórien with Arwen; and the young Prince was afraid that Lord Elrond would also want to leave soon, and would return with the twins to Imladris.

Without them, he would be alone. He would have no friends, no Nana and no Ada. Only his uncle. But even the normally strong Círhael was being affected by Thranduil's desertion, for it was he who now had to take responsibility: the irate advisors; the concerns of the captains over gathering Orcs; the troubles of the people of Mirkwood; and even the King's son! Yes, he had to take care of it all. But the work was taking its toll on him. The previous night, he had been so distressed that he had snapped at his nephew over the most trivial of matters.

"Well," Ameldir stated, jerking the Prince back to reality. "You have full marks for this. Good work, pen-neth. Not all of the words were easy, I know."

"I didn't get anything wrong?" Legolas asked doubtfully.

The tutor shook his head, and handed the parchment back to his student. "No, nothing. Why does that come as a surprise to you?"

"I don't know. I just…I was thinking about other things while I was writing, and I wasn't really concentrating, so I thought that there would be mistakes," Legolas shrugged. He glanced up at the elder Elf, and bit down on his lip. "Ameldir…"

"Hmm."

"I know you have more work for me, but I was wondering…could I go and show this to Ada?" the Prince asked quickly. "He might be pleased to see that I got full marks. I won't be long, I promise. I'll come back straight away."

The tutor sighed and put down his pen, fixing the Elfling with an annoyed gaze. "Ai Legolas, can it not wait? You really do have a lot of work to catch up on, because we have missed a whole two weeks of lessons. I know that was…unavoidable, but I cannot let you get any further behind."

"Oh, I see. Well, I don't suppose a few hours will make much of a difference," Legolas replied quietly. "At least, not to Ada."

Ameldir was silent for a moment, but then he shook his head, and raised both hands in defeat. "You win. Go to your father then, but take this other work with you. I want all of it done by tomorrow, do you understand me?"

"Yes, but are you sure? If you don't want me to go…" Legolas said slowly, as he was passed some papers and a book.

"Of course," Ameldir replied. "Now go, leave me in peace."

The child smiled and made to depart, but he stopped suddenly, and turned back once more. "Before I go, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm."

"Is it normal?"

Ameldir raised his eyes, and shot the Prince a quizzical look. "I am afraid I must ask you to elaborate for me. What do you mean?"

"When somebody goes away and they leave somebody behind, is it normal for the somebody left behind to forget about the somebodies that he has left, and to…well…" Legolas exhaled sharply, and shook his head in frustration. "I mean Ada. Nana isn't here any more, and that has upset him a lot. It upset me too, and even though I still cry, I'm getting used to it, I think. But Ada isn't. Ameldir, I haven't seen him for days. Is he forgetting me?"

"Of course not," the tutor replied quickly. "But I cannot give you any of the answers that you desire. There is only one who can do that."

"Ada."

"Yes. But what I can tell you is that he has lost one of the most important people in his life, and he will not see her again for a long time," Ameldir continued. "He is still grieving. You say that you are getting used to the idea, but maybe he is just taking a while longer to adjust. Give him time, pen-neth. That is all he needs."

"Uncle Círhael said that. I suppose you're right," Legolas murmured. Looking up, he smiled at his tutor. "Thank you for your help. I will see you tomorrow."

Ameldir nodded silently, watching through eyes darkened with a sudden sadness as his student left the room. The young Prince spoke very little about his father to anyone other than Círhael – today had been the first time since Ithilwen's death – but there were whisperings all over the palace of Legolas' suffering, and rumours that it was the King himself who was the cause of his son's pain. And now, Ameldir could not help but believe it.

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

Legolas closed his eyes, angered and saddened as, after more than ten seconds, there was no response to his knocking on the door to Thranduil's rooms. He hadn't even bothered going to the study. There was no point when he knew exactly where the King would be. Sighing, he raised his arm and knocked once more, hoping desperately that something would come of it.

"Ada, it's me," he called. "I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you from anything important, but I just want to see you. It won't be for very long if you're busy."

But there was still no answer. The door remained firmly closed; all was silent from inside the King's rooms. Nothing changed - nothing except the expression on Legolas' face. It flicked from hopeful to desperate in a mere second, and his eyes flashed with a maelstrom of tumultuous emotions as he continued speaking.

"I did a test in my lessons. It was a Sindarin test, and I got everything right. I just thought that you would like to see it, and I thought that…" The Elfling's voice dropped to a whisper as he knelt and pushed the parchment under the door. "I thought that you'd be proud of me, Ada."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Whilst the young Prince spoke outside his doors, Thranduil remained unaware. For he was not, as Legolas believed, listening to all that was being said to him, but was instead in one of the adjoining rooms, splashing cold water over his face to try and wake himself up; to try and bring himself back from the past to the future, where he hoped – and prayed – he would remain.

It had happened again. In the middle of writing a letter to his advisors to explain away his absence, his vision had gone black and he was suddenly unable to think, to stop the images from forming once more. They just flashed through his mind, each one more horrendous than the last. Blood, his wife's staring eyes, screaming and…he mentally kicked himself. He had to stop; he could not see it again.

"Why, Ithilwen?" he murmured, closing his eyes and letting the water drip from his face to land in the hair hanging over his shoulders. "I have seen my share of vicious deaths – my friends, my people, my father. But yours…yours I cannot escape from. It haunts me when I am asleep, when I am awake. All the time it follows me, and I am afraid. I am afraid of few things, but this…, I-

The Elven-king cut himself off and turned his head, listening intently. Someone was out there, speaking. The soft voice was more than familiar, and as he raised a hand to wipe away the water on his face, he realised with a jolt who it belonged to. Legolas…Valar, he had missed the child so much, more than anyone could know.

He left the room with a sigh, wondering what he could possibly say when he opened the door to admit his son; but then he stopped, and gazed in silence as a piece of parchment appeared before his eyes. What…? He shook his head slightly, and as he went forwards to pick it up, a slight shiver of apprehension ran through him. Was it from Legolas? What did it read?

But as he scanned it quickly, he could not help but give a soft laugh. Yes, his son had delivered the parchment. Reading the tutor's elegant script of "very good work, well done" beneath the childish scribble of Legolas, the King felt a sudden rush of love. It came so swiftly, so suddenly, that it made his heart skip a beat, and he wondered: could this be it? Could he finally be free from the darkness that had consumed him?

He pulled open the door, expecting to see the waiting Elfling. But there was no-one. The corridor was deserted; he was all alone. Legolas had gone. And then that feeling of love which had come upon him so quickly, left once more at the very same speed. Taking a step back, Thranduil slammed the door shut, and retreated again to be on his own.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Throwing his papers and book onto the ground before the twins, Legolas made a noise of frustration, and stamped his foot. "Why?" he spat.

Elladan arched an eyebrow as his brother began to quietly gather the scattered parchment. "Good afternoon, mellon-nin. It is nice to see you too. Pleasant day, is it not?"

"Sorry," the Prince sighed, sitting between his friends on the grass. "I just…I'm just fed up. Nothing is going right. Except that I got full marks on my Sindarin test, but I don't care about that any more."

"Did your tutor let you finish early?" Elrohir asked, passing the Elfling his work. "Here, you dropped this."

"Thank you. Yes, Ameldir let me finish, but he said that I have to do all of these papers by tomorrow," Legolas replied. "I would've gone to do them, but I got angry, and thought that I'd come out here instead."

Elladan glanced around the gardens, and smiled his agreement. "Yes, it is very peaceful here. It is good if you want to calm down."

"But why do you want to calm down?" Elrohir asked.

Legolas was silent, watching as the wind played with the long blades of grass; as the many different types of flowers swayed from side to side, bobbing their patterned heads to the rhythm of the melodies that were being trilled by birds. The trees, so different to those outside of the palace, spoke softly in the background, their conversations silent to all but the young Prince, who was one of the wood-elves most blessed with such a special affinity with the natural world.

"Do you ever feel as though you don't exist?" he asked eventually. "As though the world goes on but you get left behind? As though you're…nothing?"

"As though we don't exist?" Elladan repeated. "Sometimes."

"As though the world leaves us behind?" Elrohir questioned. "Occasionally."

"As though we are nothing?" both said in unison. "Never."

Legolas laughed softly, gracing the elder Elves with admirable glances. "That was clever. But what do you mean?"

"What we mean is that no matter what happens to you; no matter how upset and defeated you may feel; no matter how much you want to sob and shout and break things, there will always be someone somewhere who you mean more than life to," Elladan explained. "You are never nothing, Legolas, so don't let me hear you saying anything like that again. Do you understand me?"

"Listen to him," Elrohir said seriously. "He speaks the truth."

"If I wanted to be told off, I would go to my uncle," the Elfling scowled. "I thought that you two would be nice to me."

Elladan wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders, pulling him close. "Don't be a silly child. We are not telling you off. You just should not say such things."

"But it's the truth," Legolas sighed, leaning his head against the elder Elf's shoulder. "Everyone has forgotten about me, especially Ada."

"No-one has forgotten about you!" Elrohir said in surprise.

"Uncle Círhael is so busy with Ada's work that he doesn't have time for me," the Prince explained. "And Ada…just doesn't care. I want to come and live with you. You're nice to me."

Elladan shot his twin a concerned glance, before fixing a smile on his face to address Legolas. "This reminds me of when Arwen was born. Can you remember that, Ro?"

"How could I forget?" Elrohir snorted.

"When she was born, everyone forgot about us," Elladan explained. "Or so it seemed to us at the time. From where we were standing, we didn't matter to anyone, because their attention was focused all the time on the new baby. So, we decided that it just was not fair. Something had to be done."

Elrohir nodded, turning onto his back so that he lay in a more comfortable position. "We started to make little presents for our parents; we worked especially hard in our lessons; we helped prepare for the feast to celebrate her birth; we were polite; we kept our room tidy…we were very well behaved and pleasant children."

"But we got only the smallest bit of praise for our efforts, because whenever we did something, Arwen would always manage to better it," Elladan continued. "So then we decided that if good behaviour got us nowhere, bad behaviour certainly would. Now, you don't need to know what we did – we don't want to give you ideas. But overnight, we turned into terrors."

"Did it work?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, to a degree," Elrohir nodded. "We were being taken notice of – in a way – but it still was not enough. Extra history lessons with Erestor and confinement to our rooms wasn't what we had in mind. And so…I broke Elladan's wrist."

The Prince's eyes widened; and he stared at the elder Elf in shock. "You…what? But why?"

"It was not meant to happen. We had been pretending to fight at the top of some stairs so that someone would pay attention to us," Elrohir replied. "I got a bit…rough, and pushed him just a little bit too hard. He fell, and ended up with a broken wrist. If only you had been there, Legolas. He sobbed his little heart out."

"So did you when Adar had finished with you," Elladan smirked.

Elrohir shrugged, the smile that the memory had conjured not leaving his face. "That is true. But it was worth it. It gave us the attention that we had wanted all along."

"However, you must not start to get any ideas. What we just told you was a…a story, not a solution to the problems that you believe yourself to have," Elladan said, poking Legolas in the shoulder.

"Alright, so tell me a solution," the Prince countered.

"Just because your uncle is busy with work that he never had before, that does not mean at all that he has forgotten about you. He still talks with you at meals, he still puts you to bed," Elrohir said gently. "And last night, I walked past your door and heard him telling you a story. It does not sound to me as though he has forgotten you."

"Well, not. But I still liked things the way that they were before," Legolas replied. "And what about Ada?"

"We cannot really answer that," Elladan said. "The only thing we can say is that his…absence these last few days does not mean that he has stopped loving you. I don't think that it is possible for a parent to stop loving their child. All you need to do is give it-

"Time?" Legolas asked with a bitter smile.

"Exactly," Elrohir said. "I don't suppose that is what you want to hear."

The Prince turned his face away from his friends, and sighed deeply. "No, its fine. I suppose you're right. I suppose everyone is right. Just give it time, and then Ada will be back to normal. I just…how much time? A few days? Another week? Even a month?"

The twins smiled weakly, but both remained silent. They wanted to give the child an answer, but how could they when they themselves did not even know? They, like everyone else that Legolas had spoken to, could not help him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Lord Círhael rested his head in his hands, gazing down at the top of his brother-in-law's desk, and wondering – not for the first or last time – why he had offered to take on the King's duties until all had returned to normal. He had always helped Thranduil to deal with issues that had been troublesome to resolve, and he had never been bothered by that – it had always been easy with the two of them. But now that he was on his own, he was finding it more difficult as each day went by to manage.

As he looked up and began to sort through one of the many mounds of paper that lay in a mess before him, there was a soft knock on the door. He could not keep the frustration from his voice as he shouted out permission for whoever it was to enter the study. It was his nephew. He noticed the hurt expression that the child wore; and sighed deeply, wishing in vain that he could have sounded a little more friendly.

"Forgive me," he said gently. "I thought it was…someone else."

Legolas nodded, gazing at all of the letters and books and maps that lay spread out on the desk. "Uncle Círhael, do you have to do all of this?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I have to do your father's work until he comes back and takes over," the Elf-lord replied. "The Valar only know when that will be. I hope and pray that it will not be too long."

"So do I," Legolas said quietly.

Círhael shot the boy a sympathetic look, and nodded. "I know you do. Now, why have you graced me with your presence, pen-neth? I thought that you had lessons."

"I did, but Ameldir let me go early because I…worked well. I got full marks on my Sindarin test," Legolas replied brightly.

"Did you?" Círhael asked. "That is good. But I am afraid that you cannot stay here for much longer. As you can see, my work is not lessening, and I really must get on with it. Why not go and play with the twins?"

"I've just been in the gardens with them, and before I left, I picked these," Legolas said, holding up some flowers. "I thought that you could have them in here. They would look nice, and they would make you feel happier."

"That was a nice idea," Círhael replied. "You-

He fell silent as the door opened once more, and a servant entered the room. "My Lord," she said with a slight bow, "there is a council and it has been requested that if King Thranduil cannot be there, you must go in his stead."

Cursing, Círhael leapt to his feet, knocking a pile of papers to the floor as he did so. "Damn it! Legolas, can you pick those up for me? Yes, I knew there was a meeting, I knew there was something else that I had to do, but it slipped my mind, and…"

As his uncle left the room in a rush, the young Prince rolled his eyes, and threw the flowers onto the desk. That had not worked. That had not worked at all. But he would receive the attention that he wanted, somehow…

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Círhael sat in silence, listening with only one ear as the dark haired Elf on his right hand side explained something about river tolls to the rest of the advisors. He was not needed at all! So far, there had been no irritated words, no raised voices, no angry looks, and even better, no clashed opinions that would take an age and a half to resolve. He was contemplating whether or not he would be able to slip away, when the large doors to the council hall opened, and the soft padding of small feet was heard.

'Ai Valar, not now,' the Elf-lord thought. 'Please, not now…'

The Elf who had been speaking, Vehiron, shut his mouth without protest, but was unable to prevent frustration from creeping across his face as a familiar golden haired child came and stood before the long table. He sat down once more, shuffling his papers meaningfully; and with an exasperated sigh, glared over them at the newcomer.

"This is not a good time," one of the other advisors murmured.

Círhael let out a deep breath, and shook his head at his nephew. "Legolas, you are not allowed to disturb your father whilst he is in meetings, so why is this different?"

"It isn't, not really," the Prince replied, glancing around at the elder Elves as he spoke. "Only…you're very busy, aren't you? I thought that I might be able to help you somehow."

"Sorry," Círhael sighed. "You cannot. The best thing that you can do is leave."

"Please let me do something," Legolas said earnestly. "I won't get in your way, I promise. All I want to do is help you. And you are busy."

"Has this what it has come to?" Vehiron suddenly asked, his voice scornful. "A child helping to run Mirkwood? This is ridiculous. No, little one, there is nothing for you here. I am sure you have other productive things to do. Run along, why don't you?"

"No, I'll decide when I go," the Elfling replied. "I'm the Prince, remember?"

Círhael raised a hand to his mouth to hide the smile that was forming; and all around the table, other Elves were doing the very same thing, or averting their eyes so that they did not have to see the scandalized expression that Vehiron wore. Legolas, however, glared at the advisor for another few seconds, before turning back to his uncle.

"Well?" he asked hopefully. "Is there anything?"

"I suppose so, but you may not like it," Círhael answered.

"I don't mind," Legolas said quickly.

"Very well," the Elf-lord nodded. "Leave us. I know that you only want to help, and I appreciate that. But you are not helping us. You are bothering us. Just go and do something else."

The Prince stared in shock, forcing himself to ignore the soft laughter of Vehiron. "I…alright, if I'm bothering you, then I…I'll just go, I…"

"Thank you," Círhael said softly.

Legolas turned on his heel, and left the council room as quickly as he could. Tears had gathered in his eyes, and as he pushed through the doors, he raised a hand to swipe them angrily away. He wouldn't cry. But it was hard not to with his uncle's words in his mind: you are bothering us. All he had wanted to do was help.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Haldir's Heart and Soul: That's true, and hopefully he'll be able to see it soon enough!

Irish Anor: It's easy to be mad at him because of what he's doing to Legolas, but at the same time, it's really easy to feel bad for him, because we know a little about his reasons, whereas Círhael and Legolas and the rest of them don't.

Legolas-gurl88: Yay for KOH!

Lilan: Unfortunately there wasn't much of him in this chapter – hardly any, actually! – but there definitely is a lot more of him in the next few chapters! And yes, you're definitely right about the anger being directed at himself.

Theo darkstar: I think they all need a cuddle!

SivanShemesh: I think its good that he knows what he's doing, because he really does want to change. If he was so blinded by grief that he couldn't see it, they'd really be screwed!

Kel: Yep, braver than I'd be!

Kelsey Estel: I blushed so much when I read your review! No, I'm not a psychology major. I'm only in my first year at college, and I haven't taken a psychology lesson in my life! I don't think that I have the intelligence!

Brazgirl: Yes, they were. There's another one on the way, just to tie up what happened with Ithilwen's death, but that's a few chapters away yet.

Elven Kitten: Yeah, it'll probably be sad for a while more!

Utsuri: Yes, he is trying to understand, but I think that, no matter how hard he tries, he won't be able to comprehend why this is happening. Poor him!

Pirates of the carr: No, not a bad thing. But I only say that because I agree with you, so maybe it is…

Rutu: Well, its not that they think there are enough stories with Calaen and Airëlus - its that they think both characters have been developed as much as they can be, and that they have come to the end of their journeys, so to speak. For example, Calaen killed himself so that he could be at peace; Legolas allowed him to die because that was what he wanted – in an alternate ending, Legolas would have to refuse him death, and that, considering all that Calaen has been through, would seem like cruelty on Legolas' part. However, if/when I write it, I will definitely send it to you!

I have been so stressed out lately, and that's partly why this chapter has taken a while to update. I've got my AS exams at college, and although I'm on study leave, most of my time has been taken up with studying. Things should be back on track now though, because English and French are out of the way, and I've got about a week and a half until my Media and Drama exams, so that will give me time to both update and study.

Also, I've got a really bad cold. It's the end of May, I don't want a cold! But I think it was because my friend Sophie took me to watch a rugby match the other day (which cost £7, I hasten to add!), and it was really cold and I didn't have a coat, so it was probably that!

Anyway, I'd better go, but the next chapter will be up in the next week or so.

Misto

x-x

PS: I've been getting lots of ideas for stories that I can write after this, but I need a bit of help for one of them. I know about Oropher and Thranduil travelling east to Greenwood from Lindon, and I know that Thranduil didn't become King until after his father's death, and I know that it was Thranduil and not Oropher who had the halls that we see in 'The Hobbit' built, and I also know that before Sauron settled in Greenwood, the Silvan Elves lived on the hill of Amon Lanc. Does anyone have any idea about what sort of place they lived in? I mean, was there a palace or did they have talans or what? If anyone could help, that would be great!