Not a lot happened in the last chapter, but I really liked Legolas's little dream there. It was a lot of fun to write.

Okay, I promised for an update today, and VOILLA! here it is. Please review.

Romen

23. Elladan

Elrohir frowned as he watched Legolas lean his head back on the pillow, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. Something didn't seem right. As he was thinking this, he realized what was wrong.

Legolas's eyes slipped shut.

"ADAR!"

Legolas moaned, opening his eyes and glancing at Elrohir weakly. Hadn't he gone through enough already?

'You put yourself through all of it,' he reminded himself. 'All of this is your fault. You deserve every single bit of it. After all, you killed Elladan.'

The prince swallowed. No wonder Estel wouldn't look at him; he'd killed his brother. Legolas should just be grateful that he'd even stand in the same room.

"What is it?" Estel asked, looking back down at Legolas worriedly.

"Please," Legolas began, but Elrohir silenced him, frantic.

"You just need to rest!" he cried. "Lay back down. You don't want to do anything too strenuous!"

Dolenion came through the door, surprised to see Elrohir and Estel there. "My lords, you aren't supposed to be-"

"Legolas was sleeping with his eyes closed!" Elrohir's own were wide. "There's something else wrong with him."

"I'm fine," Legolas muttered, massaging his temples. "I just need sleep."

They all stared at him, frozen. They reminded Legolas of rabbits when a fox passes by, motionless until they are sure of their own safety.

"I'm fine," he repeated, putting his hand down and doing his best to look like he was all right. "I-"

Before he could finish, Elrond and Thranduil entered, breathless.

"What's wrong?" Elrond asked, eyeing his two sons cryptically.

"Adar, Legolas was sleeping with his eyes closed!" Elrohir pointed at him as if to enforce his point. "I thought you said that he was healing."

Elrond knelt down next to Legolas and felt the young elf's forehead with the back of his hand, frowning. "Estel, Elrohir, step outside."

"I'm not stepping outside," Elrohir stated obstinately. "Neither is Estel. We want to know what's the matter with our friend."

"Step outside. Now."

Estel and Elrohir were surprised at the tone in their father's voice. He had never spoken to them like that. They immediately filed out of the room, saying nothing.

"What do you think is the matter with him?" Estel asked about five minutes later.

Elrohir sighed. "I don't know anymore. Legolas just isn't the same."

They heard the sound of an opening door and turned, relieved to see Elrond stepping towards them. He sat down across from both of his sons and glared at them.

"I told you not to go in there."

Estel felt his jaw tighten. "Adar, we're worried about Legolas."

"Don't you think I am? Don't you think Thranduil is? Don't you think that we all are?" His voice sliced through the air like a knife. "As for why he is sleeping with his eyes closed, I don't know. There isn't a trace of poison in any of his wounds and they aren't infected. It could just be that he's exhausted and is just recuperating. After all, he has gone through something both physically and emotionally wearing. Very few people would have probably survived."

Elrohir chewed on his lip. "Oh. I never...I didn't really think of that...at the moment."

Elrond was silent, observing both Estel and Elrohir. "Prepare for dinner." He rose, not even glancing back in their direction as he walked down the hallway. Estel looked down at the floor, slightly embarrassed.

"There is no reason for us to be ashamed," Elrohir said, breaking the silence, though it seemed to Estel that he was saying to more to himself. "We did the right thing. Legolas would have done the same for us."

"I know you're right." Estel ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just tired of not knowing anything that's going on."

"Maybe things will get better when Elladan arrives?" Elrohir suggested, standing. Estel followed his example. "He's usually able to lighten the mood of things."

"Maybe." Estel could hardly even believe that he and Elrohir had started off the day joking and laughing. Now they were somber. The Last Homely house certainly wasn't as cheery as it usually was.

(Space)

As Estel and Elrohir prepared for dinner, Klia sat near the fire in her room, wrapping the soft blanket around her a bit tighter and relaxing in the comfort of her chair. As much as she hated to admit it, this was the way she was meant to live. She wasn't built for those rough, wild things that her people did. She couldn't take that harsh lifestyle. It zapped all of her strength and energy. That was one of the main reasons that she had been 'assigned' to take care of Prea; it was one of the few tasks that she was able to handle, besides healing. This lifestyle, this way of life, was what she had been born for.

Klia felt a pang of guilt as she thought of the small child that she had left behind. She hoped that Fila was taking good care of her, and if not, that someone else had taken her in. She needed to be there to look after the girl. Every minute that she spent away from home was endangering her very life!

Yet Klia couldn't return home without bringing Estel with her. By doing so she would fail her family's task and be dishonored; which meant banishment. She had to somehow convince him to come back with her. Sighing, she laid her head down on the arm as her eyelids began to droop closed...

A knock at the door made Klia scowl. She let the blanket drop from her shoulders as she stood, turning the doorknob and trying to soften her glare she saw that it was Arwen who stood before her.

"You are welcome to join us for the evening meal," the elf-maiden said softly.

How was she supposed to reply to that? Klia nodded curtly. "I'll be there."

Arwen smiled and walked away, leaving Klia standing the doorway awkwardly. She shut the door, wondering what they did around here for dinner. Sighing, she ran a brush through her hair and did her best to prepare.

(Space)

Estel pushed the food around on his plate, not feeling very hungry. The unusual silence was only broken by Elrohir clearing his throat, Arwen sighing, or Klia shifting in her chair. The adan looked up at the woman as she put a small bite of food into her mouth.

She looked like a completely different person when clean. Estel could now tell that she had a golden tint to her hair, which she had pulled loosely into a bun. Her eyes stood out more, and he could tell that they were hazel. However, she seemed extremely nervous, and never looked at anyone unless she was shooting them a sideways glance.

Estel didn't blame her. She was in a kingdom of her people's enemies, the ones who took her friends' and family's lives. He had felt the same way while he had been in their village. It was inevitable.

Still, he wondered how long that she would be here. Mortals just didn't 'show-up' at Rivendell and become permanent dwellers. He knew what Klia had been doing on her way here, and he knew that she wouldn't leave until she got what she needed. He glanced back up at her, surprised to see that she was staring straight at him. She didn't look away. She held his gaze.

Estel.

Estel blinked, looking around. Had someone said his name? When he saw that no one looked up or said anything, he returned to shoving pieces of food around his plate.

(Space)

"Legolas, you should at least try to eat something."

Legolas blinked. "I am not in need of food, Adar."

Thranduil frowned, and Legolas could tell that the king of Mirkwood was at his wit's ends. Still, Legolas wasn't in the least bit hungry. All of the pain killing herbs and his wounds kept him nauseous, and every time that he lifted his head the room spun. Eating was the least of his worries right now.

"If you don't eat you shall only feel worse," Thranduil continued. He lifted a bowl of steaming broth off of the table and held it in front of Legolas. "I will feed it to you if you are too tired. It will just make me feel a bit better if I know that you are taking care of yourself."

Legolas finally relented with a slight nod of his head, too tired to argue any further. For a moment he wondered if he should protest to his father's spoon-feeding method, but thought that he should allow himself some self-indulgence for a while. He closed his eyes as the warm broth slid down his burning throat, soothing it.

"Isn't that better?" Thranduil's voice said softly.

"Mmm-hmm." Legolas felt his mind slowly begin to slip into sleep, so he forced his eyes open, looking up towards his father's face. What he saw instead was Elladan's, the skin tinged a slight bluish gray. His eyes rolled back in his head so that only the whites showed, blood pouring out of his mouth, becoming the broth that he had eaten.

Legolas felt his stomach heave and pushed himself up, leaned over the side of the bed and wretched.

Thranduil put his hand on the young Elf's shoulder, gently helping him lay back down.

"I'm sorry Adar," he cried, his voice raspy. "I'm sorry."

"Calm down, ion-nin, it is all right." Thranduil felt Legolas's forehead, frowning as he searched for some sign of a fever. There wasn't one. In fact, Legolas's skin was unusually cold and clammy. Thranduil sighed, gently patting the young elf on the shoulder. "You do not need to apologize for anything. You are not in trouble."

"I- I k-killed Elladan!" Legolas's eyes were wide and red, shining like beacons out of his pale face. "How c-can you say that I don't need to apologize? I took his life."

Thranduil pursed his lips, wondering how to handle the situation. He had tried to avoid the topic of Elladan around Legolas since he seemed to be convinced that he had murdered the oldest twin no matter what anyone said to him. They could only hope that Elladan and Glorfindel would arrive soon and set things right again.

"Everything is fine," Thranduil repeated, adverting his eyes slightly. "You're safe now."

"I'm safe now." Legolas hid his face in the pillow, closing his eyes and yawning.

The king of Mirkwood watched as his son began to dream the healing sleep that is so necessary when one is injured. He pulled the blanket up higher, just like he had done for Legolas when he had been a small elfling. Legolas didn't seem to object, another thing that worried Thranduil. Instead, he smiled softly in his dreams, accepting the action. Usually Legolas hated to be pampered, especially when he was wounded. He believed that it was a sign of weakness. Now he was accepting these simple actions of caring.

He sat there for a while, watching his son as he slept. A small strand of hair hung in front of his face and slowly rose and fell as Legolas inhaled and exhaled. The sound of rising voices suddenly carried down through the hallway. Thranduil watched as Legolas stirred in his sleep, coming to and looking at the king quizzically.

"Adar?"

"I'll see what's going on," Thranduil said quickly, trying to hide some of the exasperation in his voice. "I won't be gone long."

"All right."

Thranduil softly shut the door behind him before storming down the hallway, heading for the source of the chorus of laughing voices. He found himself in the great hall.

"What's going on?" he roared. "Didn't it occur to you that Legolas was trying to sleep?"

Everyone turned to look at him sheepishly. Thranduil caught Glorfindel's eye...Huh?

"You're back?"

"Yes!" Elladan cried. "And Estel is alive! Good; now I can kill him myself."

Estel laughed, embracing the oldest twin. "We're glad to have you back, Dan."

"Really." Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Estel just isn't that interesting."

Glorfindel turned to look at Elrond. "You might want to check his wound. I did my best, but I am not as skilled of a healer and I don't want to risk infection."

Elrond arched one eyebrow higher than the other. "Wound?"

Elladan stopped laughing with his brother's and grew serious, his eyes darkening. "Didn't Legolas tell you?"

"Well..." Elrond hesitated, looking towards Thranduil. "He said something about it."

"What's going on?" Elrohir glanced at Estel, who shrugged.

"He probably did think that he killed me." Elladan's voice was like chipped ice. "That's what he was aiming for at the time."

There was an awkward silence. "I believe that you are right, Glorfindel; I shall check Elladan's wound as soon as possible."

TBC...

Again, I'm in a hurry, so I don't have time to respond. I'll try to update in a few days. Please review!