Legolas stood at the window of his new room, and stared forlornly outside. There was not an awful lot to see from his side of the cottage – trees, trees, a few more trees. At any other time, the sight would have made him smile. He would have been content with it. But in his present predicament, the trees only served as a nasty reminder of Mirkwood, his family, his friends.
There was a sharp knock on the door, and although his eyes flickered, the Prince's face remained impassive. The truth was, he did fear Seregeth, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. He had to be strong though, he had to be. He knew that if his parents were there, they would tell him that he had to rely on his courage until he was back in his own home. And that is exactly what he would do – if not for himself, then for them.
"I will be strong," Legolas murmured, picking his book up from the floor, and pushing it under the pillow. "I will be."
He drew in a deep breath to calm the nerves he would not admit out loud that he had, before pulling open the door and going out into the main room. He went across to the cluttered table and sat in one of the chairs without glancing even once at Seregeth, who sat opposite. The large bowl of fruit was still in front of him, and he absentmindedly reached out to take an apple.
"I don't think so," Seregeth murmured.
Legolas withdrew his hand as he remembered what had taken place the night before. "I am not that hungry anyway," he replied.
The man laughed softly. "I doubt that."
"I really do not care about this," Legolas sighed. "I know that you won't let me die, because even you wouldn't be that cruel. And if you are that cruel, you would keep me here for a while longer before letting me go. I may not be clever. But I'm not stupid."
"Maybe in some respects," Seregeth replied. "Tell me, when was the last time you ate?"
Legolas lowered one hand under the table, and calculated on his fingers. "Not yesterday," he murmured, "and the day before, Amarth only gave me some bread. And the day before that, I didn't eat. So it would have been the day before that, in Mirkwood. That's…" He trailed off, and his heart sank.
"Nearly four days," Seregeth said softly. "And you claim to feel no hunger? That is a lie."
And so it was. The Prince glared at the man for a moment, before tearing his gaze away and lowering it to look instead at the floor. Elves could go many days with little or no food, that was true enough. But Elflings…as children, they needed strength, and Legolas was all too aware of that. He bit down worriedly on his lip, and tried not to think about what the effects of this starvation would be. He was not sure that he wanted to know.
"Today, I need to get this room tidy," Seregeth continued, as if their previous conversation had not existed. "As you can see, it is not exactly clean. This table, for instance…"
"I don't know how you can eat off it," Legolas murmured, glancing at the piles of dirty cups and plates, old books and worn clothes strewn over it.
"That will be your job," Seregeth said, ignoring the comment. "The books need to be dusted and re-shelved, the eating and drinking vessels washed, and the clothes also."
Legolas could not help but make a face at that. "The books I don't mind, but the rest…"
"What of it?"
"The plates have half-eaten meals on them!" the Prince said incredulously. "That's not nice! It's awful, and un-hygienic. And as for your clothes…why are they even out here? They belong in your own room, not on the table which people eat from. Do you really expect me to do this?"
"Yes," Seregeth said in a low voice. "I do."
Legolas was torn between shooting the man a cold retort, and just holding his tongue and keeping his thoughts private. The former would be more satisfactory, he felt, but the latter safer. Exhaling deeply, he lowered his eyes to the ground, and nodded once. He knew that it was in his best interests to keep his captor calm.
"Good," Seregeth said softly. "Make a start now, please."
"As you wish."
Legolas jumped off his chair, and gazed disdainfully at the cluttered table. Reaching out a tentative hand to lift a dirty plate, he could feel the man watching him. But he ignored it. A small part of that was merely out of fear, but the larger part was the defiance that he had inherited from his father. Thranduil would not grace the mortal with a glance – nor would his son.
"There are some buckets outside, next to the stable," Seregeth said. "Fill one, and wash the plates in it. If, when you are finished, I am pleased with what you have done, I might allow you some water."
Legolas wanted nothing more than to remain stonily silent, but he gave the briefest incline of his head, and muttered: "Thank you."
"Go on, then," Seregeth said, putting a hand on the child's shoulder, and propelling him towards the door. "Go outside and start your work."
"Yes."
The man sat back in his chair, and watched as his prisoner went out onto the grass, put down the plates, and instantly moved away from them. Small hands were tangled in golden hair, and Seregeth's lips turned upwards in a cold smile as he saw the shaking of slender shoulders. Did Legolas truly believe that carrying out petty chores was all he would get? He could not be more wrong. What the future held in store for him, he would never have dreamed.
"You are mine, Elf," Seregeth murmured. "I own you now. There is no escape."
………………………………………………………………………………………………
Queen Laerwen sat on the edge of the large bed she shared with her husband, and exhaled deeply, countless emotions making themselves known in the soft noise. "Thranduil…"
"If you do not wish me to go, just say so," the Elven-king replied. "I will stay here with you, if that is what you want."
"I am torn between two minds. Part of me does want to see you go out into the forest with the patrols and look for our son," Laerwen murmured. "But there is another part that wants you to stay here, and just…hold me, and tell me that everything is going to be alright."
Thranduil sat on the bed beside his wife, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Then I will do both. I do not wish to leave you alone, but you must understand that I hate sitting here and doing nothing to find Legolas. I feel as though I am failing in my duty as his father."
"I understand that, of course I do," Laerwen replied. She turned her face away, and fell silent. A curtain of silver hair fell down to hide the expression she wore. "You will not do it."
"Meleth…?"
"I told you that I wanted you to hold me, and say that everything will be alright," the Queen whispered. "But you will not."
Thranduil touched a hand to his wife's cheek, gently turning her face back so that their eyes met. "No, I will not. I hope for Legolas' return, and I pray for it, but…"
"You do not believe in it."
"I said not so, nor was that what I meant. I do believe that he could come back," the King answered. "But I know that there may come a day when we will simply have to accept that we have lost our child. But that time is not now. It will not come for many days, maybe even weeks. Tell me, do you think he will be found?"
Laerwen moved forwards, and rested her head against her husband's shoulder. "I do not know how to answer that. I want to say yes, but I cannot give myself false hope."
"False hope? But you…you can still feel him, can you not?" Thranduil asked uncertainly. He closed his eyes as the grip around him tightened almost painfully. "But you have not said anything of this."
"I know," the Queen murmured, "and I have kept no secret. I could feel him, but the connection was distant. Now it has faded, and I do not know whether he still lives."
"He lives," Thranduil said firmly. "He does live. I can feel him, even if you cannot."
"That does not surprise me," Laerwen said softly. "My love for him is no less than yours, but you…I do not know how. His spirit was always closer to yours than mine. So yes, I will still believe that he lives, if you can feel him still. But it hurts. Not being able to feel my own child hurts so much."
Thranduil exhaled deeply, and rested a hand on his wife's cheek. "Let me go now. Let me go and look for Legolas. You know that the patrol will not wait, even for me. Their Prince's life takes precedence over my title – as it should."
"Yes, go." But as the other Elf stood, Laerwen grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "Find him, Thranduil. Please…"
The Elven-king locked his silver eyes onto the violet ones before him, and held the gaze for a few seconds, before nodding once. "I will return later this evening."
Laerwen nodded, and let her arm fall limply to her side. "Go, then."
Thranduil turned and went over to the door, but as he reached it, he hesitated. There were patrols already scouring the forest by day, as many patrols as could be spared. At night, the searching lessened, lest the Elves, despite their sharp eyes, overlooked a vital clue. But even in the light of day, they had found nothing. And that was why the King wanted to offer his help – no progress was being made, none at all. But what could he do? Was one Elf enough to make a difference? He could not help but wonder. And then there was his wife…was he right in leaving her?
"Go," Laerwen said softly. "Do not stay here just for me."
The King glanced back over his shoulder and smiled briefly, before pulling open the door and walking swiftly from the room. But as soon as he was outside and alone, the smile faded; and as he leaned back despairingly against the wall, his eyes filled with pain. Since the day of Legolas' disappearance, he had been putting on a front, wearing a mask that concealed the hurt he felt inside. He had to hide it from his advisors, his warriors, his friends, and especially his wife. She was not strong. He had to be, for her. But it was hard, so hard to keep up the pretence when his only child was-
"My Lord?"
Thranduil looked up in surprise, though he was quick to hide it as he realised who had disturbed his peace. "What are you doing here? These rooms are for my family and I only."
"I know that," Thalion replied. "But do you not remember that yesterday, you gave me permission to come here if I needed to see you at any time? You have also done the same with your captains. I-
"Yes, I know, I know," Thranduil snapped, as he recalled his words from the previous day. "What is it that you want, then?"
"Your wife," Thalion said softly. "How is she?"
The Elven-king exhaled deeply, and motioned for the man to follow him down the corridor. "She…she fears not just for Legolas' safety, but also for his life. As do I, but the difference between us is that she does not hold out much hope for his return."
"But it is yet early days," Thalion said.
"Because of my strong connection with Legolas, I know he still lives. I can still feel him, but Laerwen cannot," Thranduil replied. "Mirkwood is a dangerous place. You know that. The forest is perilous to fully grown Elves, so she doubts that a mere Elfling could possibly survive."
"And you yourself?"
"I do not…" The King fell silent, and glanced sideways at the man. "Why do you wish to know? I do not know you, you do not know me, and we are not friends. Why should you care?"
"I see that my courtesy is unwanted," Thalion said coldly. "I will not trouble you again with my concern. But there is one question I would yet like answered. You dislike me very much - I am not blind to that. Why?"
Thranduil reached out and caught the front of the mortal's shirt, pulling him close. "One of your men has done Valar knows what to my only child, and you have the nerve to ask why I dislike you? Do you really not understand why?"
"No, I don't," Thalion replied. "I did not take Legolas; I did not order Amarth to take him. I am giving up my time to aid you in your search. Does that not tell you that I am no enemy? All I want from you is a little more respect, and a little less coldness. It would be much appreciated."
Thranduil pulled his hands back, and nodded once. "I will bear that in mind. Now come, we are wasting precious time."
Thalion narrowed his eyes as the Elf swept past him, but he did not bother with a cutting remark, as he would have liked to. He understood Thranduil's pain – though he could not personally identify with it – but he still believed that, even despite the current situation, a small bit of appreciation was not a lot to ask. But then, not that it bothered him much. He did not remain in Mirkwood to make friends; and as soon as the young Prince was found, he would leave, and not return.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
Legolas stared at the stack of bowls and plates that he had spent over an hour cleaning, and as he did so, a thought from nowhere wandered absently into his mind. Why did Seregeth dirty so many eating vessels when he was living on his own in the cottage? Surely he did not find it too much hard work to tidy up after himself at the end of the day?
Not that Legolas cared much, though. He rejected the thought, and glanced back over his shoulder at the cottage – the door was shut, and he could see no movement from the dusty window. Seregeth was in there though, somewhere. Maybe he was watching. The Prince did not like that idea, and immediately returned his gaze to the grass between his feet.
He remembered all too well the set of rules he had been given, and although he resented them, they did not stray far from his mind. One in particular he contemplated with dislike: he was not to leave his task until Seregeth said that he was finished working. And so until that time arrived, all he could do was sit on the ground and play absentmindedly with blades of grass, and make shapes with them on the palm of his hand. It was the only thing he could do to amuse himself without moving too far.
But then something caught his attention – a speck of brown directly in front of him that made odd little bobbing movements every few seconds. He looked up, and smiled to himself. On the other side of the stream sat a rabbit – not a very big one, it has to be said, but a rabbit nonetheless. Its nose twitched as it sniffed the air, and the long ears flopped down by the side of its face. Small dark eyes darted wildly, constantly on the lookout for hidden danger.
"You shouldn't be here," Legolas murmured. "This isn't a very nice place."
The rabbit sniffed the air again, before hopping forwards a few paces. He was favouring his left hind leg, and every time it happened to touch the ground, he would immediately snatch it up, and wait for a few seconds before continuing his journey. He remained oblivious to the little Prince who sat on the opposite side of the stream, watching sympathetically.
'He is hurt,' Legolas thought sadly. 'If a fox tried to chase him, he wouldn't get very far. He'd be eaten.'
The Elfling glanced back once more at the cottage, searching for movement. But still, his eyes found none. If he could get across to the rabbit, reassure it that he was no enemy, and jump back over the stream with it, Seregeth would never know anything had happened. It wouldn't take long – Elves of the Wood had an affinity with all nature. All it would take were a few gentle words, and the creature would place its trust in him.
'But what if…?' Legolas' thoughts trailed into nothing as he watched the limping rabbit. 'No, it is hurt. I don't care about Seregeth.'
He got resolutely to his feet, and without a backward glance, jumped across the thin part of the stream. The rabbit snapped its head around and stared through frightened eyes at the newcomer, but other than that, it made no movement. Legolas breathed an inward sigh of relief – if the creature had bolted, matters would have been complicated very much.
"Mellon-nin," he said softly, kneeling on the floor. "Legolas i enneth nín, telin le thaed. Estelio-nín."
The rabbit cocked his head to one side, listening intently. The childish voice was soft and musical, and helped to calm the nerves that had naturally been felt. He was unable to understand the words, but that mattered little. He took comfort in them; and slowly, the tension in his body diminished, and his dark eyes lost the wild fear that they had first of all held.
Legolas held his breath, and reached out a hand. He held it still for a moment, giving the animal time to realise that he meant no harm, before lowering it. His fingers brushed against the long ears, and although the rabbit quivered, it did nothing else. The Prince smiled, and gently stroked the brown fur, careful not to make any sudden movements that would startle the creature.
He looked down at the rabbit's left hind leg, wondering if he could identify what the problem was. It did not seem to be anything too serious, he reflected, for there was no blood. More than likely it was merely a thorn that had got caught in one of the soft pads. He thought he would be able to get it out, but first he had to make it back to the other side of the stream, so that his breaking of the rule would not-
"Legolas!"
The rabbit bolted, pain forgotten. The Prince snapped his head up, and stared in horror as Seregeth came striding across the grass. His blue eyes flashed like blades in moonlight, and the expression he wore was a horribly cold one. He stopped just by the stack of bowls and plates, and with arms folded across his chest, looked across at the child.
"Come back over to this side," he said softly. "Go into the cottage, and wait for me. I will not be long."
Legolas bit down on his lip, but nodded as he stood, and leapt back to the grassy side of the stream. "I didn't do that on purpose," he began to explain. "There was a rabbit, and it was hurt, so I-
"The rabbit I saw," Seregeth cut in. "Go inside."
"Yes," Legolas said quietly.
The man stared straight ahead and did not speak, listening to the barely audible sounds of the child's footsteps as he ran back across the grass. As the door shut, Seregeth pulled a knife from his belt, and looked down at it. He ran his fingers slowly across the blade, not even wincing as a bubble of blood formed above his skin. His eyes glittered, and without another look back at the cottage, he stepped across to the other side of the stream. Yet he was fully aware of the silver eyes watching, from the window, his every move.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
The commanding officer of Mirkwood's troops looked around, and exhaled deeply. He stood in the forest with two groups of twenty Elven soldiers, and the King and Thalion also present. He had already decided that one contingent under his command would head westwards, and the other would move east, with Captain Celorfyn. Yet there was still one small problem.
"What are we waiting for?" Thranduil asked, fighting to keep the impatience from his voice.
"I need only a minute more," Alondir replied. "Then we will move out."
The veteran warrior fiddled absentmindedly with his bowstring as thoughts whirled through his mind. To make the number in each of the groups even, Thranduil and Thalion would have to be separated. An easy option, it might seem, to one who was aware of the dislike between the two. But not to Alondir's eyes.
"Very well," he said slowly. "Hír-nin, if you could come with my patrol? And Thalion…"
"Yes?"
The commander hesitated only for a moment, before nodding decisively. "You also will join me."
"The matter is resolved, so let us leave now, and waste no more time," Thranduil said, his voice level. He wore no expression to suggest any dislike for the situation, but was hard put to keep the frustration from flashing in his eyes.
As Celorfyn's patrol set off eastwards, Alondir moved to his friend, and smiled apologetically. "Forgive me, if the decision was wrong."
"I knew you would do it," Thranduil replied. "It came as no surprise."
"You must understand that the animosity between the two of you has to be put aside," Alondir said seriously. "I kept him with you because you cannot avoid each other. This is a chance for you to get used to his company, and he to get used to yours. Both of you have to accept that until this ordeal is over, you are stuck together. If you could put aside your differences – whatever they may be – it would be helpful. And appreciated."
Thranduil glanced sideways at his friend, and nodded once. "I know. Now, look at the sun. Time is passing. We should go."
'That was a change of subject if ever I saw one,' the veteran warrior thought. He smiled, and touched a hand to the King's shoulder. "Of course. We will leave now."
"Alondir, do you…do you think that Legolas is…afraid?" Thranduil turned away, and lowered his eyes to the ground. "I hate knowing that he could be alone, and frightened, and neither Laerwen nor I are there to comfort him."
"I understand that. But you should also know that there is nothing you can do about it, no matter how much you want to. Reality cannot be changed," Alondir said softly.
"Of course I know that, but it does not comfort me," Thranduil replied. He paused and glanced back at his friend, blue eyes flashing with steely determination. "Come. Let us go and find my son."
………………………………………………………………………………………………
Legolas stared down at the floor, and chewed anxiously on his lip. He had already been afraid of what would happen to him for breaking a rule, but what now increased his fear was the fact that he had been sent into the cottage nearly an hour back, yet Seregeth still remained somewhere outside. What he was doing, the Prince did not know. He only wished he would hurry up, so that the whole thing could be over and done with.
'And the rabbit…' Legolas thought sadly. 'I hope it doesn't get eaten.'
The door swung open, and he snapped his eyes up quickly. They met the cold gaze of Seregeth, and although his heart pounded like a hammer against his chest, the Elfling made sure that he showed no discomfort on his face. He would be brave. Just because he was afraid inside, there was no reason for his captor to know of his fear.
"So," Seregeth said softly, "what do you have to say, little one?"
"I don't know," Legolas murmured. "Maybe…sorry."
"Maybe…sorry." The man made a slight gesture with his hands. "Yes, I suppose you could. But I did tell you that to break rules means that you will be punished, so an apology really makes no difference at all."
The child swallowed nervously, but nodded all the same. "I know what you told me. And I am sorry, I really am. But I've already told you why I went across the stream. I wanted to try and help the-
"Rabbit, I know," Seregeth cut in. "Forget about that…for the moment. Now though, I am sorry also. I do not want to do this, but you leave me no choice."
"Do it, whatever it is."
"How brave you are."
The man reached down and caught his prisoner's wrist, pulling the small hand towards him. He ran his fingers over the pale skin, smiling vaguely as he felt Legolas trembling under his touch. Though, he was not oblivious to the control that the Elfling was trying desperately hard to gain over his fear. Seregeth locked his blue eyes onto the silver ones before him, and the gaze was held. Neither of them backed down, though it was undisputable which of the two would have triumphed in the battle, if the mortal had not suddenly whipped his spare hand into his pocket, and pulled from it a length of black leather.
Legolas gasped as he realised what was going to happen, and he pulled himself away from the fingers that were wrapped around his wrist. He took a few steps backwards, away from Seregeth, and quickly hid his hands behind his back. His eyes flashed with a mix of fear and defiance, and the expression on his face also flickered – it seemed as though he was unable to decide which emotion was superior.
"Tell me," Seregeth said softly, "when you dwelt in Mirkwood, was bad behaviour not punished?"
"Yes, but not like…not like that," Legolas replied, gesturing at the length of leather. "If I got into trouble or made my parents angry, they would make me go to bed early, or they would tell my tutor to give me extra work, or they wouldn't let me play with my friends. But they would never hurt me. Not on purpose. Ada hurt me once, but he didn't mean it."
"Indeed."
"Yes. He was complaining that someone hadn't listened to him in a meeting. This was at night, and he was getting changed. He pulled off his belt; and because he was angry, he sort of…snapped it as it came off, and it hit me in the eye," Legolas explained softly. "I cried, even though I knew he didn't do it on purpose. And then Nana came in and thought that Ada really had meant to hit me. She was angry, and didn't speak to him for a long time."
The Elfling smiled sadly as he remembered. "But then a few days later, she was sewing, and she pricked me with her needle when she leaned across the table to get something. Ada said that she had done it on purpose. That made her upset. But then she realised he was only saying what she had said to him before, so she apologised." Legolas shook himself mentally. He couldn't let himself get captured by the past. Looking up at Seregeth, he shrugged his shoulders. "So, they never hurt me on purpose. They wouldn't."
"I do not think you have yet realised that I differ from your parents," the man said. "Everyone has different ways of doing things. This is my way. If you are unhappy with it, I am afraid you will just have to accept it."
Legolas stared at the ground for a few seconds, but when he raised his eyes, there was a steely glint of determination in them. He could face this. He was the son of one of the finest warriors that Middle-Earth had ever seen. And he knew that if his father was put in a position like this, he would not be afraid. He would give Seregeth one of his most withering looks, and accept what was going to happen.
'Ada would be brave,' Legolas told himself. 'I can be also.'
He took a step forwards and held out his hand, all the while staring defiantly at his captor. Seregeth, who had been momentarily put out by the sudden courage that the Elfling showed, shook himself. There was no need for him to worry. It was early days yet, and although he perceived that Legolas possessed some inner strength, it would not be long before that was stolen from him.
The man raised his arm, and snapped the leather strap sharply across the palm of his prisoner's hand. The Prince, even though he had been expecting it, blinked in surprise. But he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to remain silent. It had hurt, but he would not give his captor the pleasure of knowing that.
Seregeth struck him again and again. He was unsure whether or not he would hear the Elfling cry on this occasion, but there would be plenty of other times. And he took comfort in that as he repeatedly brought the leather strap down onto Legolas' hand. The normally pale skin had turned red, and bright lines had appeared as proof of the vicious attack.
Legolas could feel tears beginning to prick at his eyes, but he swallowed hard and blinked them back. 'It won't be long now,' he thought. 'Seregeth will stop soon.'
And he did. He struck the Elfling only a few more times, before lowering his arm and dropping the strap onto the table. He looked down into the shining silver eyes and held the gaze, but said nothing. A vague smiled tugged at his lips, but it was an unreadable one. The expression on his face was neutral, though his blue orbs glittered, and inside…inside, he was laughing.
Legolas lowered his arm to his side, and gently flexed his fingers. Taking a deep breath, he said softly: "Have you finished? Can I go back to my work now, or is there more?"
Seregeth was surprised at the calm voice, but he masked it quickly. "There is one more thing, yes. Come with me."
The man turned and strode to the door without another word. Legolas, also silent, followed him from the cottage, swiping quickly at his eyes to get rid of the evidence of his hurt. He was quite sure that if either of his parents had punished him in such a way, he would have shed a good many tears – which was perfectly acceptable and natural, at his age. And tears should have been acceptable on this occasion. But they were not. Because tears would show that he was hurting, and would show that he was afraid. And that was the last thing he wanted.
'He will never see me cry again,' the Elfling thought, gritting his teeth and nodding determinedly. 'I will never let him know that I'm upset.'
"Perhaps you were wondering why I took a while to come into you earlier," Seregeth said, breaking into the silent vows. "Well, I will show you now. I was busy setting traps for your little friend."
Legolas' head snapped up, and he stared in disbelief. "You didn't!"
"I am afraid so. It was because of the vermin that this happened, so I was merely working to prevent us having to go through it again." Seregeth stood above a pile of cloths covering a small lump, and smiled. "You should be grateful."
"Grateful!" Legolas spat, pain forgotten. "The rabbit was not the vermin. You are!"
"That most certainly is not gratitude, little Elf," Seregeth said softly.
"You don't deserve any," the Prince said in a low voice, "so I'm not going to give it to you."
The man shrugged carelessly. "Have it your own way. But know that every insolent word you say only deepens the hole you dig for yourself. Try and save yourself before it is too late."
Legolas looked up through narrowed eyes, but despite his cool exterior, inside, his heart thudded against his chest. What in all of Arda did that last comment mean? It sounded ominous, and he did not like it at all. Save himself before it was too late. What did…? He wanted very much to question Seregeth, but the pride which had been inherited from his father prevented him. He remained stonily silent.
"Well," the man continued. "I am going to prepare my supper. As for you, little one, you are going to remain out here and clean the horse's stable."
The Prince bit back a cry of grief as Seregeth pulled the dead rabbit out from under the pile of cloths. He was young, but he knew, even though he had not experienced it, what death was. It pained him to see an animal killed for no valid reason. And that was just it. There really was no reason. He was fully aware that the creature had lost its life purely because the man had known it would upset him.
"Do not waste time," Seregeth said. "Start. Now."
Legolas stared straight ahead, and inclined his head ever so briefly. He would not argue; he would not dispute what he had been told; he would not contradict his captor. No more rules would be broken by him today. He would obey the orders without causing any trouble – he had no choice.
………………………………………………………………………………………………
Mellon-nin. Legolas i enneth nín, telin le thaed. Estelio-nín. – My friend. I am Legolas; I've come to help you. Trust me.
I think this chapter will appear on Monday instead of Sunday, because I'm in England and it is nearly midnight. I think that a lot of you are in America or Canada, so you'll be a few hours ahead of me. Anyway, the reason I'm up late posting is because I was working yesterday from 12-7 and today from 10-6, and I just wanted to sleep when I got home!
Anyway, as before, all responses to reviews are on my profile page. To get there, just click on my name.
See you next week!
Misto
x-x
