Thranduil pushed open the door to his study, and rolled his eyes as his gaze fell upon the mounds of parchment that had piled up. "Oh, I have missed this," he muttered.

"I will help you. I am sure that between us, we can get it all sorted by the end of this month," Elrond replied, eyeing the papers. "Come, do not look so downhearted. My company will make the job much less tedious."

"Thank you. It is all very well to joke about it, but the reality is that this work has just accumulated over the days, and Círhael was the one who had to deal with it," Thranduil sighed. "I never knew that there was this much."

"Well, the longer we spend discussing it, the longer it will take to…" Elrond looked up as the door opened, and smiled. "You have come to join us, then."

Círhael shook his head, and sat down with a heavy sigh. "No. I have come to report that I found Legolas."

"Where was he?"

Drawing a deep breath, the Elf-lord quickly explained all that had taken place down in the treasury; and as he reached the part concerning the theft of the jewels, he sadly noted the pain in his brother-in-law's eyes. But he knew that it was not pain brought on by the revelations, it was pain brought on by the fact that Thranduil now had a difficult decision to make concerning one whom he loved and priced above any piece of treasure.

"Valar," Elrond sighed, as the story came to an end. "Why was Legolas stealing the jewels?"

"He wanted some for himself," Círhael answered. "That is no crime, but the way he went about getting them most certainly is. And I regret to say this, but this matter cannot be overlooked."

"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked quietly.

Círhael glanced at the younger Elf, and shook his head slightly. "You know what I mean. Legolas cannot do something like this and expect to escape without punishment. Whichever way you look at it, he has done wrong. There are consequences for that."

"I am sorry, but he is right," Elrond said softly. "If I caught any of my children doing something like this, they would be punished. And although I love all three of them with all my heart, extra history lessons with Erestor is not what they would receive."

"I would say the same at any other time, but now…" Thranduil trailed into momentary silence, and turned away from the other two. "How can I? It was only yesterday that he and I…"

"I know how you feel, but you are a King," Círhael said softly. "You cannot treat your son any differently than you would anyone else. If you do, you are condoning what he has done. It is harsh, but that is the way it has always been and will always be. You know this. If Legolas had done something trivial, then fair enough. I would agree that you could let it pass. But this is not something trivial."

"When I was a child, I used to believe that being the son of Oropher meant that committing crimes had no consequences for me. I was Legolas' age when I realised otherwise," Thranduil said slowly. "So yes, yes I do know the way it is supposed to be, but that does not change the fact that my child has suffered enough because of me; and I am not going to inflict further pain on him."

"Yes, he suffered, but that does not change the fact that you cannot treat this as a special case. You are looking at this as a father, not a King," Círhael said. "I am sorry…"

Thranduil looked up, and shook his head angrily. "You are asking an impossible thing of me. Yes, Legolas did wrong, but over the past two weeks, he has been punished in a terrible way. And now just one day after our lives start to show a sign of returning to normality, you want me to do this, to physically punish him. No. I refuse."

"Elrond, help me," Círhael sighed. "He is not listening to me."

"The only advice I can offer you is this: do what you wish," the half-elf said slowly. "Whatever you do will be right, but it will also be wrong. You have to choose the lesser of two evils."

Thranduil was silent as he thought about this, but then he looked up and nodded. "Legolas has erred, and because he has erred to such an extreme, he does have to be punished. I know that, though I cannot help but resent it. However, I am not willing to deal out any punishment at this time. Maybe that is a weakness, but I care not. I want to build bridges with him, not throw them down."

"In that case…I will do it," Círhael said, unable to keep the dismay from his voice. "I have no bridges to build. Though, maybe I will after this."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As the door to his room slowly swung open, Legolas jumped to his feet. It was his father that he thought – and hoped – he would see, but he was sorely disappointed. "Uncle Círhael…what are you doing here? Where is Ada?" he asked, surprised.

"He is working," the Elf-lord replied quietly.

"Working? But…no. No, he can't be! I thought that…" Legolas shook his head, and gazed at his uncle through confused eyes. "I thought that because what I did down in the treasury was so bad that he would have to come here and sort everything out. I thought that…"

"No, he cannot," Círhael murmured. He did not meet the Elfling's stare.

The Prince turned away, and closed his eyes tightly. "But I was counting on…" He fell silent, and bowed his head slightly. "I don't understand. If any other Elf tried to steal his treasure, he would be the one to deal with it, not you. So why…?"

"He is busy," Círhael answered in a low voice.

'No. He doesn't care,' Legolas thought. Blinking back tears, he turned again to speak, but what he saw in the elder Elf's hand made him catch his breath sharply. "What…why do you…Uncle Círhael?"

Círhael glanced down at the willow switch he held, and shook his head sadly. "Pen-neth, you cannot behave as you did and expect to escape without punishment. The greater the crime, the worse the consequences. That is just the way it has to be."

"You can't do that to me," Legolas whispered.

"If you were a grown Elf, you would be arrested for trying to steal the King's treasure. As it is, this is the only…" Círhael shook his head again, and when he next spoke, his voice was weary. "Do not think that I want to do this. But I have to. You have done wrong, and this is-

"You don't understand!" the Prince cried. Struggling to keep his breathing even, he swiped at his eyes and said desperately: "It wasn't meant to be this way, it wasn't supposed to…Uncle, let me see Ada. Please, I want to see him. I need to see him."

Círhael sighed, and held out a placating hand. "No, not now. I have to do this, tithen-las. I have to."

"I didn't want this to happen," Legolas said quietly. "I didn't think that it would. I thought that Ada would…But I should've known all along that it wouldn't work. I don't think anything will, not any more."

"Come, let us just get this over and done with," Círhael said gently.

The child drew the sleeve of his tunic over his glistening eyes, and nodded once. "When you go back to Ada, tell him…I'm sorry…for everything."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"So, are you going to tell me?"

Elrohir jerked his head up in surprise, and stared at his twin. "What? What do you mean?"

"You voiced your worries earlier about Legolas doing something stupid," Elladan replied. "And he has. How did you know?"

"I would like to say that it was just a feeling, but that would be a lie," Elrohir sighed. Shaking his head, he lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "I fear that it was I who put the idea into his mind."

"Why?"

"He came in here late last night. He told me that he had had a nightmare and gone to his father for comfort, but when he knocked on the door of Thranduil's rooms, he was ignored. So he came here instead…"

"You should have woken me."

"I was going to, but Legolas protested," Elrohir replied. "He knows how much you dislike being disturbed from sleep."

Elladan rolled his eyes, though he had to nod in agreement. "Hmm. But if he was upset, I would not have minded at all. So, what happened?"

"He was upset, and he was saying that Thranduil hates him, and-

"Thranduil does not hate him," Elladan cut in vehemently.

Elrohir sat up, and nodded in earnest. "I know that! I tried to tell Legolas, but he did not believe it. Anyway, I said that he would have to talk to his father about it, and if there was no time to do so, he would have to make time – get the King's attention…somehow; and now he has but he is being punished for it. I did not mean for this to happen, 'Dan. I did not think that he would do something as extreme as this."

"Did you tell him to take the jewels?" Elladan asked quietly.

"Of course not."

"Then, do not blame yourself."

"But-

"But nothing. This is not your fault."

Elrohir held up his hands in mock defeat, and said: "But why did he do this? Did he really think that it would gain him anything?"

"Maybe we should go and see him," Elladan suggested. "I saw Círhael leaving five minutes back, and he certainly looked unhappy."

"That does not surprise me," Elrohir said, as he followed his twin out into the corridor. "But, do you think that-

"Wait!"

What?"

Unconsciously, Elladan reached out and grabbed the other Elf's shoulder. "I have just realised something…"

"Good, release me," Elrohir replied.

"Sorry. Alright, what time did Legolas come to us…well, you, last night? Because I fear that a terrible mistake has been made, one that could have been avoided," Elladan said seriously. "What time was it?"

"It was about an hour after midnight," Elrohir answered. His eyes narrowed in confusion as his brother's face suddenly paled. "Are you well, 'Dan? What is it?"

Elladan leaned against the wall and gazed sadly up the corridor, shaking his head slowly. "At an hour past midnight, Thranduil was not in his rooms. He was in the gardens with his brother-in-law."

"How can you know that?"

"I overheard Círhael telling Adar this morning," Elladan sighed.

"So, Thranduil was not avoiding Legolas at all…he was not even there to see him," Elrohir said slowly. "I was right all along. I knew that there would be a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"Yes, but that is not the point. The point is, is that Legolas did all of this for nothing; he suffered such a horrible punishment for nothing; and even worse, he believes that his father hates him," Elladan said. "The poor child must be feeling awful."

"Do we tell him?"

The other Elf nodded, and gestured towards the Prince's door. "It would be wrong not to. Come, do you want to go first or shall I?"

"I will. I still feel slightly responsible," Elrohir answered. As his twin rolled his eyes, he reached out and slapped his arm. "Don't do that, Elladan. I cannot help what I feel and you do not make matters any easier by doing things like that. Just stop it."

"Sorry."

"I should think so."

As his brother turned away and softly pushed open the door, Elladan scowled, and rubbed ruefully at his arm. But all thoughts of his own stinging pain immediately melted into nothing as he heard the childish sobs coming from inside the room, and saw the small body shaking in the bed. That hurt even more, and he could tell by the expression that his twin wore, that the feeling was mutual.

Elrohir sat on the edge of the bed, and gently touched the Prince's shoulder through the sheets that hid him. "Legolas, it is only us. Do you want to talk?"

"No," came a choked whisper.

"Do you want us to get you anything?" Elladan asked.

"No."

"You cannot stay under there all day," Elrohir sighed. "You are upset, and we want to try and make you feel better. I know it hurts, but-

"You don't."

"We do not want you to shut us out," Elladan said quietly. "We only want to help."

"You can't."

Elrohir looked at his brother, and shook his head sadly. "Maybe we should leave. I do not think that he wants us here, and-

"Stay!"

There was silence for a moment, but then the sheets and the coverlet moved, and Legolas crawled out from underneath them. His face was pale, so pale that it was nearly white; and strands of golden hair stuck to his wet cheeks as more and more tears fell. He was working hard to control his grief before his elder friends, and he bit down on his lip, trying to fight away the tears. But they would not stop.

"Ai Legolas," Elrohir breathed.

The Prince threw himself forwards, and buried his face against the dark haired Elf's chest. "Don't go, I'm sorry," he sobbed. "Stay with me."

"We will," Elrohir soothed. Pulling the Elfling close, he swung his legs up onto the bed and lay back against the pillow, all the while gently smoothing the golden hair. "Dan, can you get some-

"Already done it," Elladan replied quietly. He sat beside his twin, and turned Legolas' face up. "Here, do you want some water? It will help to calm you."

"I want to go back in time, and change…" The Prince accepted a few sips, but then he shook his head and pushed the cup away. "I want to change everything."

"But you cannot…"

Elladan put the cup on the table, and with a sigh, lay next to his twin. He rested his head against Elrohir's shoulder, and wrapped an arm around Legolas' small body. "Do you want to tell us what happened?" he asked.

"When the door opened, I thought it would be Ada. But it wasn't. It was Uncle Círhael, and he…he was carrying a switch," the Elfling sniffed. "I asked him where Ada was, and he said 'working'. But I know that's not true."

"What do you mean?" Elladan asked.

"I know that he doesn't love me, and he just didn't want to see me," Legolas replied tearfully. "And so, Uncle Círhael, he…he hit me with the switch. He's never done that to me before. No-one has. It hurt, still does."

"Your uncle did not take pleasure out of punishing you," Elladan said gently. "He probably hated it. But at the same time, he probably thought that it was the right thing to do."

"But it just isn't fair! I have tried everything, and nothing works!" Legolas cried. "Ada was nice to me only once, and that was just because Uncle Círhael and Lord Elrond were there."

Elrohir glanced down at his twin, and sighed deeply. "But even if your father had come to see you, do you really think he would be 'nice'? No, he would be angry with you for behaving badly."

"But I would rather have that than nothing!" Legolas shouted, pulling away from the twins. "I can't, though. I can't stop him hating me!"

Elladan sat up quickly, and gripped the child's shoulders. "I have had enough of this, because it just is not true. Your father does not hate you, I know he doesn't. When you tried to get into his rooms last night, do you know why you were not admitted? Because he was not there. I know this for a fact, and your uncle will tell you the same thing. You are jumping to conclusions, and they are the wrong conclusions."

Legolas was silent for a moment, but then he shook his head angrily. "No, I am tired of everyone inventing excuses for him."

"No-one is," Elrohir said desperately. "It is the truth, I only wish that you could see it."

"I can see the truth, and the truth is that Ada hates me, and nothing is going to change that," Legolas snapped. He glared at the twins for a moment, before nodding towards the door. "I want to be by myself now."

"Don't do this," Elladan sighed.

The Elfling turned away, and shook his head. "Just go."

There was silence, but then Elrohir nodded once. "Very well, we will leave you. But just remember that we tried to help and you refused it. The only one who is making this situation worse now, is you."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

That night, dinner was a sombre affair, with few words passing between the seated Elves. Thranduil had tried twice to speak to Legolas, but the responses he had received were cold and sullen. Elladan and Elrohir, feeling that they had been too hard on their friend earlier that day, were also trying to build bridges; but again, the little Prince was having none of it. So, it fell to Elrond and Círhael to try and ease the oppressive tension in the hall.

"I did not expect it to rain today," the Rivendell Lord said, after a particularly long silence.

"Yes, it was unexpected," Círhael agreed. "But hopefully it will be cleared up by tomorrow. It has been a while since Legolas was able to practise his archery, and I imagine that he misses it very much. Is that not so, pen-neth?"

The Prince sat in silence, staring unseeingly at the untouched food before him. Whether he did not answer because he had yet to recover from the anger that the events of that day had brought about; or if it was merely because he had been so caught up in his tumultuous and confused thoughts that he had not even heard the question, no-one knew. Still, Thranduil nudged him gently to get his attention.

"Legolas…"

"What?"

"You were asked a question."

"I don't care."

Thranduil blinked in surprise, and shook his head slightly. "And you will not answer it? That is not polite."

"I already said that I don't care!" Legolas snapped. "And why do you care whether I answer it or not? You don't even care about me."

"Why are you saying this?" Thranduil asked, trying, but failing to force the hurt from his voice. "Of course I care about you, I do not understand why you…"

"You can stop lying now, because I know the truth. You could've told me a long time ago, but you didn't. Why? It probably would've been easier," Legolas said coldly. "I don't think that you-

"This stops now," Círhael cut in. He looked at his nephew, and nodded towards the doors. "I think that you should leave, if you cannot behave properly at the dining table. Thranduil, if you have any objections…"

The Elven-king was silent for a moment, but then he shook his head. "It is best that you go, Legolas."

"But-

"No, we will talk later. Now is not the time or place."

Exhaling shakily, the young Prince pushed back his chair and walked across the hall. But then he stopped, and although he did not turn, his words were heard by all. "I hate you, Ada. It should've been you, not Nana."

Thranduil's head snapped up, but his son was already running through the doors. He could feel eyes on him: not just the eyes of those seated at the table, but the eyes of servants and the eyes of minstrels, all watching him, all waiting for a reaction, any reaction. But what? Was he supposed to smile and pretend that nothing had happened? Or did they expect him to go after his child? He could do neither. He was held still, frozen by the shock of the uncharacteristically cold words: I hate you, Ada. It should've been you, not Nana.

At the other end of the table, Elladan's gaze travelled swiftly around the hall, and he sighed inwardly as he saw that no-one was attempting to ease the situation by carrying on with their own business. Why were they all watching the King? Why could they not help him by leaving him alone? Feeling a sudden burst of annoyance, he moved his hand across the table, and let his fingers brush against a goblet of wine. He pushed gently, and it toppled over, spilling into his brother's lap.

"Dan!" Elrohir cried.

"Forgive me, I did not see what I was doing," Elladan said quickly, as servants rushed to help.

"Be more careful," Elrond chided, though he nodded gratefully at his son.

The minstrels hesitantly began to play their music once more, and normality started to return to the hall. But it all went un-noticed by Thranduil as he pushed back his chair, and rose. He was dimly aware of someone – was it Círhael? – calling his name, but he shook his head once, blocking it all out. He had to get away; he had to be on his own so that he could…what would he do? What could he do? He did not know.

All he knew at that moment was that his own son hated him. I hate you, Ada. It should've been you, not Nana. The words pounded inside his head, so thunderous that they were almost deafening. He had to be rid of them somehow; each time he heard them, another part of his heart shattered into pieces. They echoed around him, and even though he closed his eyes and shook his head, they were still there. They were everywhere.

Back at the table, Círhael was rising quickly to his feet, troubled. "Elrond, he needs our help," he murmured.

"Adar, can we help?"

"No, you two stay here."

"Lord Círhael, would you like us to do anything?"

"No. Go back to your work, and-

All of the different voices came together to cruelly form just one: Legolas'. Breathing heavily, Thranduil pushed the large doors open and stumbled into the empty corridor outside. As soon as he was alone, he sank to his knees. But the voice had followed him, it would not leave. I hate you, Ada. I hate you, Ada. I hate you, Ada. I hate-

"No!"

The Elven-king moved back so that he was sitting against the wall; and closing his eyes tightly, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. His hands tangled in his own golden hair; and he shook his head violently, trying so hard to clear it of the cruel words so that he might be allowed to escape from the pain, the torture. He had to break free, but the voice would not let him.

"Leave me," he whispered. "Stop it, go…"

"Thranduil? Thranduil, it is us. We are going to help you…"

"What…?" He looked up, and blinked in surprise as his eyes met first Círhael's, then Elrond's. The voice had stopped. He shook his head again, and said quietly: "What did…why…?"

Círhael touched a hand to his brother-in-law's shoulder, and smiled sadly. "You had some sort of…attack, I think. We followed you out here, and you sank to the floor. We tried to help you, but you moved away, and…what happened?"

"I was just shocked, I…" Thranduil lowered his eyes, and turned his face away from the others. "I could not be rid of Legolas' words; they seemed to be following me. I had to escape. But I could not. I panicked."

"Are you well?" Elrond asked seriously. "You are not hurt?"

"I am fine. Just a little…"

"Shaken up? That I do not doubt." The Imladris Lord got to his feet, and nodded once. "Very well, I will find some medicine for you, merely as a precaution. Then perhaps it would be a good idea for you to speak with your son."

As Elrond walked away, Thranduil looked up at Círhael despairingly. "Why did Legolas say that? Why does he hate me? I thought that yesterday was the beginning of…I thought that…"

"Hate is a very strong word, and I do not think that Legolas understands exactly how strong," Círhael replied. "What he more than likely meant was: I don't like you very much at the moment, Ada. If Nana was here, she would be nicer to me."

"Nicer?" Thranduil repeated. "Are you saying that this is about what happened between he and I since Ithilwen's death? But what about yesterday? Or did I just imagine that?"

Círhael shook his head, and sat down on the floor beside his brother-in-law. "No. You had your son beaten today, and-

"You know that I did not want that to happen," Thranduil cut in. "You know that I was against it, and that I was following your advice."

"Yes, but he does not," Círhael said gently. "Look at it from his point of view, and maybe you will understand. Do you remember when you were a child and Oropher used to get angry at you?"

"Hmm."

"It used to upset you very much, especially when you were just an Elfling. You would come to me in tears," Círhael continued. "And one time after a particularly heated argument, you told me that you hated your father. You said that you never wanted to see him again."

Thranduil nodded as he remembered the incident, and flicked his hand dismissively. "But that was only because I resented what he had said. Of course I did not mean it, I just…" He trailed into silence, and glanced sideways at the elder Elf. "You think it is the same here? Legolas did not mean what he…?"

"You did not hate Oropher then, and Legolas does not hate you now," Círhael said gently. "In fact, he is probably feeling awful about the whole situation. It will do you both good to speak with each other, and I think that-

"Círhael! Thranduil!"

"Elrond?"

"What is it?"

The Rivendell Lord came to a swift halt before them, and shook his head quickly. "When I had found the medicine that I wanted, I thought that I should look in on Legolas, just to make sure that he was well. But he was not in his room."

"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked sharply, getting to his feet.

"I then went to your rooms, thinking that he might have gone there. He was nowhere to be seen, but this was on your desk," Elrond said to the King, holding out a piece of dampened parchment.

"A letter," Círhael murmured. "Read it out."

Elrond nodded, and looked down at the childish scrawl and the tearstains that blotted the ink. "Very well…"

Ada,

I'm going away because it will make you happy. I didn't mean what I said to you. I don't hate you, but you hate me. I'm sorry for everything that I've done, and I'll love you forever,

Legolas

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Hey everyone, thanks for your reviews, they make me very happy even if I can't reply to them on here! The next chapter will be up soon!

Misto