The next morning, whilst Legolas was waiting for Ameldir to arrive and his lessons to begin, he thought hard. He thought about the story the twins had told him; he thought about the good and helpful deeds he had done the previous day; he thought about the lack of praise he had received – after leaving the council he had even tidied his room without being asked to, though no-one had noticed; and most of all, he thought about his plan.

'I don't want to do this,' he reflected. 'But I don't have much choice. All I want is for everything to go back to normal, and I don't think that will happen if everyone keeps on treating me like I don't exist.'

As he nodded in determination, Ameldir entered the room and flashed him a warm smile. He felt a stab of guilt as he smiled back, but he said nothing. Part of him was screaming to just admit everything before he put his plan into action. But no, he couldn't. He had to stick to what he had decided. And if starting with his kindly tutor was the way it turned out…so be it.

"You are here early," Ameldir commented, putting his books on the table. "A dedicated student, that is what I like."

"I wasn't hungry, so I left breakfast early and came straight here," Legolas replied.

"Breakfast is important and should not be missed, especially by Elflings who have a hard day of work ahead of them," Ameldir said with a smile. "Oh, and before I forget…what did your father say when you told him about your full marks, if you do not mind my asking?"

"I didn't see him," Legolas admitted. "He…he didn't let me in."

The tutor stopped what he was doing to smile sympathetically at his student. "I am sorry to hear that. But do not jump to any conclusions, pen-neth. I can think of many reasons why he did not let you in."

"I can't," Legolas said bitterly.

"Maybe he was asleep," Ameldir suggested.

"Not in the afternoon. That's a silly time to sleep."

"Maybe he did not hear you knocking."

"He did. I know he did."

"Have you considered that maybe he was not in his rooms at all?"

Legolas laughed, and shook his head. "I know that he was in there. He hasn't left them for days."

"Very well. We cannot discuss this all day," Ameldir replied. "We have a lesson to begin. Now, I thought that to start off with, we would go over the work that I set you to do yesterday. May I have a look at it?"

"I…No."

The tutor snapped his eyes up, stunned, and stared at the Elfling. "No? Why not? Do you not have it with you?"

Legolas nodded his head slowly, keeping his gaze averted. "That's right. I don't have it with me."

"I see. Then, did you forget to bring it with you?"

"No. Not exactly."

Ameldir was silent for a moment, but as he realised what was being implied, he sighed deeply. "Legolas, did you even do the work that I set for you?"

"No."

"Alright, well…you have been honest, that is something," the tutor said slowly. "And maybe I was asking too much of you. After all, you have only just commenced your lessons after…and I suppose there was a lot to do, and-

"No, that's not it," Legolas cut in. He looked up, locking his blue eyes onto the elder Elf's green ones, and taking a deep breath before continuing: "I didn't do the work because I just didn't feel like it. It was boring and stupid, and I had more interesting things to do. You can have it back. I don't want it."

"And the book that I gave you?" Ameldir asked, struggling to keep his voice level. "Did you even look at that?"

"Oh yes, I looked at that," Legolas said brightly. "I looked at it and decided that it was even more boring than the written work, so I threw it on the floor."

Ameldir was silent for a moment, staring in shock. He had never heard the Prince speak in such a way before. Shaking himself mentally he stood quickly, and still without a word, picked up a large leather bound book, and after flicking to the page that he wanted, threw it down before his student. It crashed against the surface of the table, and he kept his face impassive as the Elfling flinched nervously.

"What's that for?" Legolas asked.

"I think that today we will practice handwriting," Ameldir replied, sitting once more, and dipping his quill into ink. "You are going to copy from that book until I decide that you have done enough, and I am going to write a letter to your uncle. Start now, please."

The child swallowed, and glanced down at the large book, scanning the long words - most of which he had never seen before. "Ameldir, I…I don't understand what this says."

"That is not a problem," the tutor replied coolly. "You are practicing your writing skills, not your reading."

"I'm not stupid!" Legolas said, his voice rising with anger. "I know how to write!"

"No, you do not. You know how to scrawl untidily, and there is a very big difference between the two," Ameldir answered. "Start writing. I do not wish to tell you again. The sooner you start, the sooner you can finish."

"And when will that be?"

The elder Elf leaned over, and with a flick of his hand, skipped a few pages. "The chapter ends here. It is a lot, but if your script improves from the practice, you will thank me."

"That's not fair," Legolas said quietly. "At least give me something that I understand."

"No. What isn't fair is that I trusted you yesterday, and now you have shown that I will not be able to do so again for a very long time," Ameldir replied. "This is your fault, not mine."

"I'm sorry!" Legolas said desperately.

"So am I," the tutor answered, with a shake of his head. "So am I."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

With a quick glance up and down one of the royal family's private corridors to make sure that he was alone, Lord Elrond produced a silver key from the pocket of his robes, and quickly inserted it into the elaborate keyhole. He turned it once, and the door to the rooms of the Elven-king swung open without a single noise to give away the Peredhil's presence. The King himself had been seated on a long sofa, trying – or actually only pretending to try to – read a book, but as soon as the opening door caught his attention, he was on his feet in a flash, eyes narrowed as he glared suspiciously at the intruder.

"Why are you here?" he asked, unable to keep the bite of annoyance from his voice. "I locked the doors."

"You did," Elrond agreed. "However, Círhael lent me his master key, so I used that. Why he does not use it to let himself in to see you, I can only imagine. Mayhap it is because of the large amounts of work that he now has to do…"

"I asked why you are here," Thranduil said coldly.

"I came for a number of reasons. Firstly, it is dull when there are few Elves to speak with; and it gets rather lonely," Elrond replied. "Secondly, I do not visit Mirkwood often, and on this occasion, you and I have seen very little of each other. Thirdly, I-

"Only one reason would have been sufficient," the Elven-king cut in, sitting once more.

"Thirdly, I thought that you could do with the company. After all, you have been locked away in here for a few days now," Elrond continued. "Fourthly, I have offered you my help, and so far my services have been useless. And lastly, I was anxious to see how you fare."

"No, you wanted to check up on me," Thranduil laughed humourlessly. "I know you. You are a healer. You cannot deny that the need to evaluate my health brought you up here."

The Peredhil made a vague gesture with his hands, and nodded towards the sofa. "May I?"

"Feel free."

"Thranduil, you are right – I am a healer. And yes, I am worried because you have spent days in here alone without contact with other Elves," Elrond said slowly, as he sat down. "Grief and solitude – especially this extreme – are dangerous to your health. You seem fine to me, although outward appearances can be deceiving."

"I am fine…"

Elrond smiled as the younger Elf unconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, and pulled against himself. "So you say. May I try something with you? I should like to prove my point."

After a non-committal noise from the King he leaned forwards, and without a word, clamped his hand on his friend's shoulder. Thranduil watched impassively, silently asking questions as to what was happening, and why. But then the pressure suddenly increased. Elrond's fingers pressed down hard, and as pain shot down his arm he could not help but draw in a sharp breath, and jerk himself away.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"Did it pain you?" Elrond asked calmly.

"No," the King snapped back. "You merely caught me off my guard."

"I see. Well, there is one more thing I would like to try." The Imladris Lord stood, and smiled briefly. "You need not look so annoyed. Now, give me your hand."

Thranduil was silent for a moment, but then with a most un-kingly roll of his eyes – he thought the exercise childish and without point – he held out his left hand. He did not expect Elrond to grip it, and with a sharp tug pull him forcefully to his feet. The sudden movement was a shock, and his vision went momentarily black. Unconsciously, he reached out to grab the front of the other Elf's robes; but if he had worried about falling, there was no need – it would not have been allowed.

"How do you feel?" Elrond asked softly.

"I…I don't…" Shaking his head to recover himself, Thranduil jerked his hand back, and hissed: "Why did you do that?"

"Because you have become weak, yet you could not see it," the Peredhil replied. "If I had done that to your shoulder a month ago, you may have thought me mad, but it would have bothered you little. And if I had tried to pull you like I just did, you would have resisted. But you did nothing."

"I am not weak," Thranduil spat.

"You never used to be, but so you are becoming," Elrond said quietly. "Did I not just prove it?"

The Elven-king sank back onto the sofa and leaned forwards, resting his hurting head in his hands. "Forgive me. I just…nothing makes sense to me anymore. I do not understand, and I…I do not know."

"There is nothing to forgive…"

"Early this morning I was woken by a dream. What I remember most vividly is that when I awoke, my eyes opened," Thranduil continued softly. "To have opened, they must have been shut. But it should not have been so."

"Has this happened before?"

The Sinda shook his head, and drew in a deep breath. "Today was not the first time. Elrond, you know that I have not left these rooms. I stay here partly because of the grief and guilt which will not leave me, but also because I…I am afraid."

The Peredhil was silent for a moment, wondering. He had never known his proud friend to admit to fear. With a sigh he sat down, and gently touched the younger Elf's shoulder. "What are you afraid of?"

"Fading."

"I will tell you no lies, because you have to know the truth," Elrond said softly. "You will fade if something is not done now. Grief has already touched your heart. But it will not take you. We will save you."

"Will you keep this to yourself?" the King asked suddenly.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

Elrond could not help but laugh at that. "I should have known. But very well, if you want this to be kept a secret, I respect that. I will tell no-one. But now I would ask a question of you: are you going to accept the help that I can give? Or are you going to refuse it?"

"I told myself that I could come back from darkness on my own, but now I know otherwise," Thranduil said quietly. "Help me, Elrond. Help me to come back."

"I will."

"I have to fight this. Not just for myself," the King sighed, "but for Legolas. I know that since Ithilwen's death I seem only to have made things worse for him. But nevertheless, he cannot lose me as well as his mother."

"He misses you," Elrond murmured.

"And I miss him," Thranduil answered. "I miss him so much."

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

Later that afternoon, it was with a very heavy heart indeed that Legolas went to his uncle and gave him the letter. Funnily enough, behaving horribly in his lessons had been easy, easier than he had thought it would be. What he had found hard, though, was the hurt expression that Ameldir had worn, the tense atmosphere that had been present in the room. His tutor was one of his favourite Elves – which is something that not many children can say -, and it very much upset him that he had treated him in such a way.

As Círhael finished reading the letter, he shook his head sadly. "Legolas, can you explain this to me? Why did you behave so badly for Ameldir?"

"I only told him the truth, and that isn't bad," the Prince replied.

"I see. So, he set you work, and you did not do it," Círhael said slowly. "Will you tell me what you told him?"

"I didn't do the work because it was dull and stupid and I had more interesting things to do," Legolas answered. "And I threw the book on the floor because it looked even more boring than the papers that he had given me."

Angered, Círhael slammed his hand on top of the desk. "That is no excuse! The work that you are given is mandatory. You cannot decide what you will and will not do."

"Can," Legolas said sulkily. "I did last night."

"Yes, you did, but unfortunately for you, you made the wrong decision, and there are consequences for that," the Elf-lord replied. "First of all, you are going to write a letter to Ameldir, apologising for your behaviour. And then, you are going to do every bit of the work that he set for you."

Legolas shook his head, and kicked angrily at the floor. "No! You can't punish me, because you're not my ada."

"That makes no difference," Círhael said coldly. "And until your father returns, I am responsible for you, so that means I can punish you as I see fit. Now, I want you to go and do as you have been told. If you are still in my sight by the time I have counted to ten, you will be sent to bed without dinner."

The young Prince glared for a moment, before spinning on his heel and storming from the room. As the door slammed shut, Círhael's stern expression was replaced by one of concern. That had never happened before. His nephew had always been a little mischievous, but badly behaved? He would not have believed it if he had not just witnessed some of it himself. But there was no time to dwell on Legolas' temper tantrum – there was work to do.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

That evening just before dinner, Círhael tool Legolas outside the palace walls so that he could deliver his now completed work to Ameldir, whose home was in a nearby settlement. But despite the short distance, as they walked under the trees, the Elfling felt as though there was no choice but to hold tightly to his uncle's hand. The mournful creaking of the trees right next to his ear, and the oppressive darkness, was not something that he liked at all.

"There it is," Círhael murmured, as a small house came into view.

"Do I have to go by myself?" Legolas asked.

"If you mean do you have to make your own apologies, the answer is yes. However, I will come with you to the door," the Elf-lord replied, nudging his nephew forwards. "Remember to be polite."

The younger Elf nodded, glancing uneasily at the surrounding trees as they walked forwards. "I'm glad that I live in the palace. I would be afraid if I lived out here."

"This settlement is very close to the palace, within walking distance, as you know. Not only is it protected by the power of the Elves, but all of these areas are patrolled by soldiers who make sure that all is well," Círhael replied. "Funnily enough, I am not in a talkative mood tonight, and I would have thought that you would have the good grace to feel at least a little bit ashamed of what you did today. Now, are you going to knock on the door or are we going to stand here all night?"

Stung, Legolas pulled his hand away and raised it to knock quickly on the wooden door. As they waited for it to open, he could not help but feel that Círhael's coldness was without reason. He really was ashamed of what he had done, but he knew his reasons, and he believed them to be good. He did not think that trying to find ways to spend more than a few minutes with his loved ones was a crime.

The door opened, and as Ameldir looked at his visitors, his eyes widened in surprise. "Lord Círhael, Prince Legolas…what can I do for you? Would you like to come inside?"

"Thank you for your offer. We appreciate it, but our evening meal will be served soon," the elder of the two replied. "However, my nephew has something that he would like to say to you."

The Elfling stepped forwards, and passed Ameldir the completed papers, along with the book and the letter of apology. "Yes, I…I'm very sorry for my behaviour today. I didn't mean to make you angry or disappointed, but I think that I did both. I've done all of the work for you, and I hope it makes up for…well…everything, even though it's late."

Hiding a smile, Ameldir knelt before the child and touched a hand to his shoulder. "Yes, it does, and I accept your apology. Thank you for coming to see me, pen-neth."

"And I also wanted to say, please don't stop trusting me. It will never happen again, I promise," Legolas continued. "I still want to be friends with you. Can we?"

"You are lucky that I am a forgiving individual," Ameldir replied with a smile. He stood, and turning to the other Elf, inclined his head. "Thank you for bringing him. You did not have to."

"No thanks is needed," Círhael replied. "Forgive me, but we must leave now. I fear that if we are late, Lord Elrond's sons will take the best food."

The tutor nodded, and smiled down at his Prince. "In that case, I will see you tomorrow. Goodbye."

As the door closed and they began to walk away, Legolas reached up to slip his small hand into his uncle's larger one. "I've done everything now. Ameldir isn't angry at me any more, so will you be nice to be now?"

"Yes, I will be nice. Now that you have made amends, I think that we can forget what happened today," Círhael replied. "Just promise me that you will be good from now on. It will make life easier for us all."

"I promise. I don't think that I want to be naughty again anyway," Legolas said slowly. "I don't like everyone being mad at me."

And that was the truth. Committing the crime had been easy enough, but its repercussions had been horrible for him. The young Prince was more than glad that it was over with, and had decided that there had to be some way other than bad behaviour to change things. There was, and he would find it out only too soon.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aranel of Mirkwood: Hopefully he'll be able to soon enough with Elrond's help!

SivanShemesh: He needs lots of hugs, doesn't he, the poor little Elfling!

Kelsey Estel: Cool, thanks for your help!

Barbara Kennedy: Yeah, you might want to be careful about hugging Thranduil. I don't think he'd be particularly impressed at the moment!

JediGollum: Hmm, I don't know; I just wrote it without thinking. You decide!

ElvenKitten: Yeah, it is very good that he has the twins to talk to. But then, it could be bad, because they're putting silly ideas into his little head.

Legolas-gurl88: Well, Círhael is very nice, but he's beginning to get a little bit stressed out with everything that he has to cope with. I think they all need hugs!

Haldir's Heart and Soul: I don't think there's really any telling what poor Legolas will do at the moment, he's so confused.

Cute Little Legolas: Glad you enjoy, thanks for reviewing!

Kel: Hehe, there'll be some more of Legolas and that advisor next chapter!

Irish Anor: Gotta love dramatic irony! Hehe, my English lecturer would be proud!

Utsuri: Yeah, that was fun! There'll be a bit more of that next chapter.

Rutu: Let's hope so!

Wow, it was the season finale last night of 'Desperate Housewives'! The loose ends were totally not tied up! It was left with Susan and Mike held at gunpoint! Oh no, I have to know what happens, but it's not back until next year! However, I've got eleven weeks of 'Big Brother', so that's great! Thirteen mad housemates. They're even madder than last year's lot! And yay, first eviction tomorrow! Can't wait!

It's not good that I get this worked up over television.

Anyway, next chapter will be up in the next week,

Misto

x-x