That night as Legolas lay in bed, his mind was taken over by a dream. No, not a dream, it was too disturbing for that. It was a nightmare. He tossed and turned, crying as he was taken back to the day when he had looked upon Ithilwen's body. But this time it was worse. He could see the Orcs, he watched as they assaulted his beautiful mother, and he could do nothing to stop it from happening, he was powerless.

His eyes had closed, but tears escaped from underneath his lashes, leaving lines on his pale cheeks as they fell down to wet his hair. The sheets of the bed twisted around his small body, trapping him, holding him cruelly in place as he fought violently against the horrific scenes that played out in his mind. When all he wanted to do was run, run far away from what he was watching, he could not move.

He could see the blood, could hear his mother's screams of pain and fear, and he could even smell the foul stench that came from the Orcs. He had to break free; he knew that if he stayed there for any longer, he himself would scream. He would be discovered, and then he would die after a long and horrible torment, just like Ithilwen. He had to save himself…

"Nana!" he suddenly cried out, eyes snapping open to stare wildly around the room. "Nana…"

Legolas sat up, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he realised that it had only been a dream, a cruel play in his head, that he was safe. But he could not stay on his own. He needed to find comfort in the arms of a loved one – he would find none if he remained alone. His first instinct was Círhael, but as he untangled the sheets from around his body, he realised that he could go instead to his father. Thranduil would not turn him away, not any more.

The Prince climbed slowly out of bed, and pulling the back of his hand across his eyes, left the room and went swiftly up the corridor. Candles which stood in brackets cast large shadows on the walls, and they danced silently, menacingly. He could not look at them. They rose high above his small body, eerily reminiscent of the Orcs that had haunted his sleep only a short while back.

"Leave me alone," he whispered, increasing his pace as the door to the King's chambers came into sight.

He ran to it and pulled down on the ornately decorated handle, expecting to be admitted straight away. But nothing happened. Again he tried to open it, but the door remained firmly shut. No, it could not be locked. Why did Thranduil still feel the need to lock it? Legolas raised a trembling hand and tapped on one of the oak panels, his fear making him knock harder than intended. The noise echoed around him, and he flinched.

"Ada, let me in," he called. "Please don't make me stay out here. I had a dream. I need to see you…Ada!"

There was no reply from inside; no sound of movement. Everything was silent, except for the choked sobs that came from the distressed Prince standing outside his father's door. Why was he being ignored? Surely Thranduil would comfort him again if he knew that he was upset? But then suddenly, realisation hit. When it did, it hurt. It all made sense now. He knew. But he did not understand.

"Ada was just pretending," Legolas whispered. "He was pretending because Lord Elrond and Uncle Círhael were there. He didn't mean any of it, he was just…pretending. So he doesn't love me. He doesn't…"

Fresh tears sprung to the Elfling's eyes, and in a sudden moment of anger and defiance, he slammed his fist against one of the oak panels. But if he expected that to draw his father out, he was sorely disappointed. With one last look at the mockingly closed door, he turned and ran back down the corridor, his grief paining him in ways greater than those which he had yet known, and his heart breaking.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As he sensed footsteps approaching, Thranduil opened his eyes and looked up from where he sat at the bottom of a linden tree. "Did you follow me out here?" His voice was soft, and despite the nature of the question, without anger.

"Yes, but I will not seek forgiveness for that," Círhael replied. "I was about to retire for the night, but I saw you leaving our private corridors. I wondered where you could be going at such a late hour. I was concerned."

"Hmm." The Elven-king glanced sideways at his brother-in-law, and smiled. "I don't suppose you have your master key with you, do you? I have gotten into the habit of keeping my door locked this past week, and I forgot to bring mine out with me."

Círhael rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. "Yes, I have mine. You should take the lock off your door now. There is no real reason for it to be kept on, is there?"

"No. But like I said, habit," Thranduil replied. He looked up, and smiled again. "You should not have been concerned. I came out here to the gardens because sleep would not find me."

"Is something troubling you?" Círhael asked quickly.

The Elven-king shook his head, and shifted positions as his brother-in-law sat on the ground beside him. "No. The opposite."

"Tell me."

"I have not been myself for days. I have not been able to play the role of a father," Thranduil said slowly. "But today I…I held my child, I told him that I love him. Those are trivial things for a parent, but for me it…I cannot tell you how it made me feel, but…"

"I understand," Círhael said. He paused and glanced sideways at the younger Elf, holding a quick debate with himself. "Thranduil, Legolas…"

"What?"

"Legolas loves you," Círhael said quickly. He looked away again and closed his eyes sadly. It would have to wait. He could not, would not ruin his brother-in-law's happiness with the truth of the Prince's wound.

Thranduil smiled, and nodded. "And I love him. But…do you think he knows that? He did, once. But now I fear that I have made him doubt it."

"He was so happy to see you this evening," Círhael replied. "All that matters to him is that you have come back. And in his mind, that must mean that you love him. Worry not. I do not believe that he doubts your love."

Thranduil leaned his head back against the tree and looked up at the sky, the stars reflecting in his eyes. "I hope so, Círhael. I really hope so."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the room that the twins shared at the end of the Royal Family's private corridor, only one of the brothers had found sleep. Or rather, only one of them had been able to remain on the path of dreams when the door had opened, and soft footsteps were heard padding across the carpet. Elrohir – a much lighter sleeper than Elladan – sat up, and looked at the newcomer in surprise.

"Legolas, what are you doing up at this time of night?" he whispered.

"Can I stay with you?" the Prince asked quietly, his eyes lowered to the floor.

Elrohir nodded, and moved over to make room for his friend. "Of course. Come up here, and you can tell me what is going on. Do you want me to wake Elladan?"

"No, he'll be mad," Legolas muttered. "He doesn't like being woken."

"He would not mind if he knew that something was wrong." Elrohir glanced across at his sleeping brother, and then down at the Elfling who sat beside him. He smiled. "Very well, we will let him carry on dreaming. So, do you want to tell me?"

Legolas pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them close, not looking at his friend as he replied: "I…had a dream. It made me cry, so I went to Ada because I thought that he would make me feel better, but…hedidn'tletmeinandhedoesn'tlovemejustasIthought."

Elrohir's brow furrowed in confusion, and he touched the child's shoulder. "Slow down. Say that again."

"Ada didn't let me in and he doesn't love me, just as I thought," Legolas whispered. "He hates me, I should've known."

"He hates…no, of course he doesn't," Elrohir said incredulously. "Why in all of Arda would you say something like that?"

"Because it's the truth," the Elfling muttered. "If you had a nightmare and you went to your Ada because you were upset; and he didn't let you in, wouldn't you think that he hated you?"

"No. I would think of a perfectly logical explanation as to why he would not see me," Elrohir replied. "Consider the time. It is long past midnight, he is more than likely asleep."

"I banged on the door," Legolas sighed. "Even if he was asleep, that would've woken him. I know that he was in his room, and I know that…" Fresh tears pooled in the silver eyes, and he drew a deep breath before continuing in a whisper: "I know that he doesn't love me."

Elrohir leaned back against the pillows, and pulled the child against his chest. "Hush, you must not say such things," he chided gently, as he ran his fingers through the golden hair. "Your father does love you, I know he does."

"That's what everyone kept telling me before: you, Elladan, Uncle Círhael, Ameldir… I believed you all, but I don't any more," the Prince said quietly. "It would just be better if…if I wasn't here."

"Legolas!" Elrohir said, shocked. "You do not mean that!"

"Do."

"I am not the one that you should be speaking to about this," the dark haired Elf sighed. "I cannot help you any more than I already can. You must speak instead to your father, and-

"But he will not see me!"

Elrohir winced as his brother stirred in the other bed. "Not in the middle of the night, no. But in the daytime, I am sure that he will. Speak to him alone after breakfast tomorrow, alright? And I can assure you that he will tell you what I have: he loves you."

"He won't see me," Legolas said sullenly.

"He will. And if he has to rush off to catch up on work or attend a meeting – which is highly probable – you must have him make time to see you," Elrohir replied.

The Elfling turned his face away, and closed his eyes. When he next spoke, his normally soft voice was bitter. "What is so important about me that the King would make time to see me?"

"Oh, maybe the fact that you are his son?" Elrohir said incredulously. When the child continued to look dejected, he sighed. "Legolas, if that is not important enough, I do not know what is."

"He never made time for me before Nana went away when he was working, so what makes you think he will now?" the Prince asked. "When he is being King, he only makes time for his people, not me."

"Then, I am at a loss. Why don't you…save someone's life. Or stop a rampaging horse. I do not think he would overlook something as important as that, whether he is being King or not. Or you could…" Elrohir trailed off at the look on his friend's face. "What?"

"A rampaging horse? Where am I going to find one of those?" Legolas asked. "The idea is good, but…Oh, I don't know."

The elder Elf made a non-committal gesture with his hand, and sighed deeply. "Nor do I. Come, let us discuss this at a more reasonable hour. You may not be, but I am tired, and I want sleep."

"Sorry," Legolas murmured.

"It matters not," Elrohir replied.

As his friend pulled the coverlet up over them both, the little Prince's mind whirled. He did not think that there was any need for further discussion, not on this subject. He had to see his father, that was all there was to it. He had to do something which would be important enough to be taken before the King. And he had just the idea.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next morning dawned, and as the sun slowly cast her beams over Mirkwood, Legolas had already left the twins to go back to his own rooms where he could change into day clothes, and go through in his mind the plans that he had made the previous night, after Elrohir had fallen asleep. An hour later, he was entering Círhael's chambers, greeting the Elf-lord with a smile that he wore to hide his apprehension.

"Good morning," he said, climbing up onto the bed, and sitting cross-legged.

"You want something," Círhael said from where he braided his hair.

Legolas looked up in surprise, and locked eyes with his uncle in the mirror. "How do you know that?"

"Because I know you, pen-neth," the elder Elf replied with a smile. "Come, you may as well ask me sooner rather than later."

"Well, I was wondering…could I be excused from breakfast this morning?" Legolas asked. "Ameldir set me something to read, and I haven't read it yet. I want to finish it before I see him later."

"I hope this is not a repeat of what happened last time," Círhael said seriously.

"It isn't. It's just that he set it yesterday, and I didn't have time to do it, firstly because I hurt my hand, and secondly because Ada…came back," Legolas replied. "I wanted to spend my time with him."

"I see. Well, Ameldir will understand," Círhael said. "Just explain the situation, and tell him that you will read the book tonight. I will see him myself if that will make you feel better."

"Thank you, but no. I don't want to let him down again. I promised him, didn't I? I can't break a promise," Legolas said quietly. 'I don't break promises. Not like Ada.'

As he tied off one of his braids, Círhael shook his head doubtfully. "You should not miss breakfast. No, I am sorry. I cannot have you going hungry."

"Well, can I have a late breakfast?" the Prince asked almost desperately. "I just don't want to disappoint Ameldir."

"Ai Elbereth, Legolas," the Elf-lord sighed. "Very well, if that is what you want to do, I will not stop you. I will let the kitchen staff know when I go to the dining hall in a moment."

As his uncle spoke, the Elfling looked at the oak desk beside the bed, quickly scanning the surface for the most important part of his plan: Círhael's master key, the key that would unlock any door in the whole palace, be it in the Royal quarters, the important council halls, the treasure rooms or even in the prison. And there it was, sitting on top of a leather bound book, its shiny silver a deep contrast to the luxurious red beneath it. Now all that Legolas had to do was take it without being noticed.

"How is your hand?"

"What? Oh…" Legolas glanced down at the bandage he wore, and smiled vaguely. "It is better. I don't think that I need to wear this any more. But I want to keep it on for a bit longer. It makes me look like a warrior come back from a battle."

"It does," Círhael agreed. He paused, and turned away from the mirror to face his nephew. "Are you sure that you want a late breakfast? You will miss seeing your father. I believe that he is going to be joining us at the table once more."

"Ada will understand," Legolas said carefully.

"I am sure he will," Círhael answered, coming forwards to sit beside the Elfling on the bed. He touched a hand to one of the slender shoulders, and smiled sadly. "I am sorry. I hope that you can forgive me."

"What for?" Legolas asked in surprise.

"Yesterday. When I saw what you had done to Vehiron, I lost my temper. I did not handle things in the way that I should have," Círhael sighed. "I just…I felt so angry, and seeing the scene in your father's study pushed me over the edge."

"It wasn't your fault," Legolas said, twining his small fingers with his uncle's. "I was being naughty."

The Elf-lord had to smile at that. "Yes, you were. But still, I reacted in the wrong way. I should not have shouted, and I most certainly should not have…" He fell silent, and touched the side of the child's face. "I am sorry, tithen-las."

Legolas leaned forwards with a smile, and kissed his uncle's cheek. "It doesn't matter. It didn't hurt very much anyway. You're not very strong. And I thought that you were meant to be a warrior."

"So I am," Círhael said seriously. His face remained impassive for a moment, but then he reached out, and tickled the young Prince. He laughed as his victim cried out; and said: "Yes, I am a warrior, and this is my deadliest weapon."

"Let go!" Legolas giggled, backing away slightly. "I know. I know that you are nearly the best fighter in Mirkwood."

"Nearly?"

"Yes." The Prince looked away, and nodded once. "Ada is the best."

Círhael smiled, and touched a hand to his nephew's shoulder. "Of course. But it was not always so. One day, you must remind me to tell you of the time that he shot his father in the foot."

"Really?" Legolas asked in surprise.

"Yes, I remember it well. However, it must wait, because I have to be in the dining hall soon, and you have to go and read that book," Círhael replied, leading the Elfling over to the door. "Where will you be working? The library? I will accompany you, as I am going that-

"Actually, no," Legolas said quickly, taking a few steps backwards. "It will save time if I do it in my own room. You can go, if you want to. I'll be alright by myself."

"Very well, I will see you this afternoon." Círhael smiled at the young Prince, before turning and walking down the corridor. However, he had to have the last word. "Make sure you attend the late breakfast!"

Legolas rolled his eyes good-naturedly, lest the elder Elf look back to see a reaction. But he did not; and as soon as he had disappeared from sight around the corner, the child who had been left behind let out a deep breath of relief. But he did not move, not yet. He would wait a minute or so, just to make sure that he really was alone.

'I don't want to do this,' he thought sadly. 'I know that it will anger Uncle Círhael and it will upset Elrohir because he will think it was his idea. And I know that it will get me into trouble. But I have to do it. I have to see Ada, I have to. Tears weren't enough last night, but this will be. He will have no choice.'

With that last thought in his mind, the young Prince re-entered his uncle's chamber, heart pounding heavily against his chest as he crept forwards to the desk. He reached up, holding his breath. Without any moment of doubt or hesitation, he snatched the key from where it rested on top of Círhael's book. And as he did so, he heard an accusing voice from behind him, could feel a strong hand grip his shoulder, and-

"Stop it!" Legolas hissed to himself. "You're only making yourself scared. But you've got the key, so that part is over. It's time for the other part now."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the depths of the palace far away from the Royal corridors, far away from the council halls, far away from the prison, were the halls in which the King's treasure and the heirlooms of his family were kept, guarded at all times by Elves armed with dangerous blades. The two on duty at the moment were Hérion and Andaer; and as their young Prince stopped before them, they saluted, both smiling inwardly as a red flush rose on his cheeks.

"Hello," Legolas said. "You don't have to do that to me. It doesn't really mean anything, does it?"

"It is a mark of respect, Your Highness," Hérion replied.

"That's not my name," the Elfling sighed. "But never mind. I was sent here by my father with a message for you, for both of you. He wishes to see you in the throne room."

Andaer shot the other guard a sideways glance, before looking back down at the Prince. "Did the King name us specifically?" he asked, failing to keep the suspicion from his voice.

"No, he just told me to give the message to whoever was on duty," Legolas replied. "He said that there is a matter of urgency to be discussed, and…well…oh, please go! If you don't, not only will you be disobeying the King, but you'll get me into trouble also, because he will think that the message wasn't delivered."

"I…" Andaer exhaled, and shook his head slightly. "Very well. Hérion…"

Legolas hid a smile, and watched quietly as the elder Elves checked the security measures on the great doors – not that it would make much difference. And of course there was no message from the King, and they would probably find out that they had been tricked in just ten minutes. That gave him not a lot of time. Not a lot, but enough to do what he had to.

It seemed as though a whole age passed by before the guards were satisfied, and as they strode away, the little Prince could not help breathing a deep sigh of relief. He watched them go, listening to the rhythmic beats of their footsteps on the floor; and as those finally faded away into silence, he drew from the pocket of his tunic, Círhael's master key.

As he stood on the tips of his toes and slid the slim key into the lock, Legolas' gaze fell on the emblem of the King's house that was emblazoned in silver and green in the centre of each of the two doors. And as he stared at them, they stared back at him, silently accusing. A sudden guilt fell on him, a guilt so strong that he almost jerked his arm back, and ran away from the scene.

'Is this betrayal?' he wondered to himself. 'I suppose it is. I mean…I'm not being loyal to my family by doing this, so it must be. But no, maybe betrayal isn't the right word. What I'm doing isn't good, but it's not as though I'm…killing or hurting anyone, so…so anyway, it doesn't matter, because this way I will be taken to Ada, and he will have no choice but to see me, and then I can tell him everything, what I feel, and…yes, this is alright. I think.'

Mentally shaking himself to get rid of the horrible feeling, Legolas stared straight ahead, unfocusing his eyes so that they bypassed the emblems of Oropher's royal house. With a determined nod, he turned the key. He half expected it to click loudly, alerting guards to his presence. But silence reigned. And as the door was slowly pushed open, he imagined a terribly piercing creak tearing the still air. But there was nothing. He was safe…for the time being.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As Círhael ended his explanation of Legolas' absence, Thranduil looked up in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"What do you mean by that?" the elder Elf asked. "He wanted to finish reading a book for Ameldir before his lessons today. I hope you do not object to my giving him permission to miss breakfast?"

"Of course not, but…" Thranduil leaned forwards slightly so that their conversation would remain hidden from the other Elves at the table; and murmured: "Legolas has no lessons today. He has none until tomorrow."

"Then, why did he say that?" Círhael questioned.

"I do not know. But maybe it was not such a good idea letting him go," Thranduil said slowly. "I would rather he was here."

Círhael nodded and pushed back his chair to seek his nephew, but at the same time, a servant appeared at the table. "My Lords," she said apologetically. "I hope that you can forgive this interruption, but…"

"What is it?"

"Your Highness, Hérion and Andaer are outside," the servant replied. "They were sent to the throne room under the impression that you had an urgent matter to discuss with them. When they found that you were not there, they came here to enquire."

"Who were they sent by?" Círhael asked.

"Prince Legolas, my Lord."

Thranduil arched a cynical eyebrow, and shook his head slightly. "My son? No, I believe that he is elsewhere."

"Forgive me, Your Highness. Hérion and Andaer left him outside the treasury," the servant answered, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. "That was only a few minutes back."

"Why would Legolas be down there?" Thranduil asked softly.

Círhael shook his head, and sighed as he got to his feet. "I will go and sort this out. I will not be too long."

At the other end of the table, the twins were watching quietly. Elladan glanced across at his brother, and started at the pale colour of his face. "Are you alright, 'Ro?" he whispered.

"Yes, I just…" Elrohir bit down on his lip as he remembered the conversation that he and the Prince had had the previous night. "I just have a feeling that Legolas has done something foolish."

"What makes you say that?" Elladan asked softly.

Elrohir looked up, and winced as his eyes met those of his father. "Later," he murmured.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas sat down against the wall, and gazed around the first of the large treasure rooms in a mix of wonder and shock. He had never seen so many jewels in his whole life! He had not even been aware that there was this much treasure in the palace! And to think that Thranduil wanted more because he did not have as much as other Elf-lords before him. They really must have had a lot, the Elfling though in amazement.

"But they're beautiful," he whispered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of rose crystals. "No wonder Ada likes them so much."

Not only were there the pale pink crystals on his person, but also a necklace of diamond, rings of ruby and emerald; and every time he moved, he could feel them sliding against each other, could hear the soft and melodious clink of jewel on jewel. A smile gracing his features, he hid the crystals in his pocket once more, and made to rise to his feet. But the two large doors suddenly opened, and a sliver of light shone into the large room.

All around him were chests full of treasure, and piles of gold and silver; and he instinctively shrunk back against them, wondering if he would be hidden from whoever had come into the room. But no. Standing in the great doorway with the two guards, Hérion and Andaer, was his sharp-eyed uncle. He was seen almost immediately.

"Legolas, I want an explanation right now," Círhael said in a low voice, as he strode forwards to his nephew. "And you will stand up when spoken to."

The Prince got to his feet, and smiled in spite of the fear coursing through him. "I never knew that Ada had so much treasure. It's nice, isn't it? Very beautiful."

"Do not digress," Círhael said sharply. "Why did you tell Hérion and Andaer that the King had called for them? And why are you in here? It is forbidden to you, as you know. Moreover, how did you get in here?"

"I stole your key," Legolas replied, holding it up. "I told the guards that Ada wanted them so that I wouldn't be stopped from unlocking the door; and I'm in here because…well, you weren't supposed to catch me."

The Elf-lord knelt down to grip his nephew's shoulder, but as he did so, his fingers brushed against the Prince's pocket. Feeling the jewels, he looked up, shocked. "What have you done?" he asked softly.

"I stole them," Legolas replied quietly, taking some of the treasure, and holding it out to his uncle. "You can have some if you want. I don't mind sharing."

"You stole…" Círhael closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. "Why have you done this? What possessed you to…Do you not realise how much trouble will be caused for you?"

"If you don't want them, I will keep them for myself," Legolas said, withdrawing his hand and shoving the jewels back into his pocket.

"No. You are going to give them all back to me, and then you are going to go to your own room whilst I speak with your father," Círhael replied. "So, give me what you have."

"They're mine, not yours," the Prince muttered.

"Now."

Legolas pouted and was silent for a moment, but then with a feral hiss of annoyance, he reached back into his pocket and pulled out the jewels and coins, only to slam them down into his uncle's hand. He turned on his heel and was about to push past the stunned guards in the doorway, when he was sharply pulled to a halt by a familiar strong hand.

"You could have been a little bit more thoughtful," Círhael said coldly. "You knew full well that this was to be your father's first day back since he-

"Left me," Legolas said sulkily.

"Since he took that time to recover from his grief; and as if he did not already have enough to do today, you have just made things a lot harder for him," the Elf-lord continued angrily. "Did you do it out of petty spite?"

"No!"

"Well, I care not," Círhael snapped. "And before you go, there is one more thing…never lie to me again. I will not tolerate that."

"Then, you should learn to guess when someone is lying or telling the truth," Legolas replied. With a smile, he turned and left; and although the guards caught the pain in his silver eyes as he passed, they remained silent.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Very important: Ok, I have quite a few things to say here. Firstly, sorry about the time it took to update. I'm out of college now, and moreover, I've actually managed to finish writing the whole of this story, so updates should be more frequent.

Secondly, I would like to make it clear that I am not continuing the story in this way just so that I can put the characters through more hell, and make it even more angsty. It has to be this way, because not everything is yet resolved. Things can't go back to normal straight away, as though nothing ever happened. Of course there will be obstacles on the way. Moreover, Thranduil still has inner demons that he has to fight – he wouldn't be able to get rid of them all just by seeing his son very slightly injured.

Thirdly, due to the new rule that we can't reply to reviews as we always have before, I obviously won't be able to reply to you on here. I don't want to get banned! I'm really unhappy about this new rule, because I think that responding to reviews is very important. At least, it is to me, and probably to many others. So, unfortunately I won't be able to reply to any of you on here any more, but if you leave your e-mail addresses – if you so desire – I'll happily e-mail you. Cool? Cool.

The next chapter will be up soon,

Misto

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