The next morning, Legolas was woken by Mellon licking the side of his face. After nudging the pup away and drying himself, he had changed into his tunic and leggings and gone out into the main room of the cottage. Criltha was still asleep, but Seregeth was sat at the table, chewing on pieces of fruit. When his eyes fell upon the Elfling, he nodded once at him.

"Good, you are awake. Criltha?"

"I think she is still sleeping," Legolas answered slowly. "You will not wake her, will you? It took a long time for her to fall asleep last night."

"Pity," Seregeth said, without a trace of any in his voice. "I need her up soon."

The door opened a second after he had finished speaking, and Criltha entered the room. She still wore the large grey tunic of the day before. It was badly creased, a sign of a restless night. Without a word to either of the other two, she sat at the table. She reached out and took an apple from the bowl of fruit, but did not eat it. Instead she rolled it around absently on the palm of her hand.

"I trust that you slept well," Seregeth said.

"I have had better nights," the girl answered carelessly.

As silence fell, Legolas glanced down at Mellon. The animal's nose was twitching, sniffing the air for food. "Seregeth," the Elfling began hesitantly. "Now that he is not feeding off his mother, what will he eat?"

On the table was a plate of thin meat, and the man held it out. "Give him this, and then come and sit down."

"What is it?" Legolas asked, as he knelt on the floor and held a piece of the food to Mellon.

"Chicken."

"Oh."

Chicken, however, was not something that appealed to Mellon. He sniffed at it for a few times; and his tongue flicked out to brush against the skin, but was quick to disappear again. His tail – which always seemed to be moving – fell still, and he sat down looking thoroughly miserable. Legolas looked into the doleful brown eyes, and gave a small frown of concern.

"I don't think he likes it."

"He will. Just give him time to get used to it," Seregeth answered. "Come and sit at the table."

"Yes, in a minute. I just want to make sure that he eats."

"Did you not hear what I said? The dog will eat soon enough. Do not rush him. Come and sit at the-

"He has turned away from the chicken," Legolas said in dismay. "I will have to find something else for him to eat, otherwise he will go hungry, and-

The man was up off his chair in an instant. Lunging forwards, he caught his captive by the front of the tunic, and all but threw him into a seat. As his bruised back slammed against wood, Legolas gasped and instinctively tried to move away. Criltha could only watch in stunned silence as Seregeth caught the boy's chin between thumb and forefinger, and slapped him twice.

"Listen to what I say," he snarled. "I do not like repeating myself. Of all people, I should not have to tell you this. Should I?"

Shaken, Legolas flicked his eyes towards Criltha, and met her green ones. He thought he saw a trace of pity, but if he did, it was quick to vanish. He looked back at his captor standing tall above him, and shook his head. "No. No, I'm sorry."

Seregeth's lips curled into a sneer as he pulled his hand away, and sat down in his own chair. "Of course you are. But that matters not, nor do I care. I have more important things on my mind."

"Maybe you…" Legolas paused, and glanced sideways at the man. From the corner of his eye he could see a red mark on his own cheek. He ignored it, and said instead: "May I say something?"

"Go on."

"Maybe you took Mellon off his mother's milk too early."

"Who?"

Legolas blushed as two pairs of eyes flicked to stare at him. "Mellon: my dog. It is his name."

It was Criltha, not Seregeth, who laughed suddenly. "What a stupid thing to call an animal," she said derisively. "Melon… Honestly, do you want the poor thing to be laughed at?"

"That isn't his name," Legolas said quietly.

"Do you have other animals called Apple and Orange?" the girl continued. She smiled cruelly, and shook her head. "Melon. What a foolish-

"Don't call him that!" the Elfling suddenly snapped. "You are the stupid one. You do not even know what the name means, so you cannot laugh at it. You-

"Quite," Seregeth cut in warningly.

Legolas turned away, and looked at the man. His expression was almost pleading. "His name isn't 'Melon'. It is 'Mellon'. That is an Elvish word," he said in a low voice.

"They sound the same to me," Criltha put in.

"They sound nothing alike," Seregeth said sharply. "This discussion will end now. I am tiring of it."

Silence fell. Criltha looked away and bit moodily into her apple, but Legolas' eyes were fixed on the mortal sitting beside him. It sounded very much as though the man had just defended him from the girl's taunts about his dog. Could it be so? Wondering, he lowered his gaze to the tabletop, and played absentmindedly with the sleeve of his tunic.

"We will be going to the town this morning," Seregeth announced a short while later.

Legolas looked up in surprise. "We?"

"I have to sell the remaining puppies, and you two will come with me. You, I think, could be trusted to stay here." Seregeth paused, and glanced at Criltha. "However, I fear that you would get ideas of escape, and I cannot let that happen. So we will all go."

"You mentioned this on my second day here," Legolas said slowly. "You told me that if you cannot sell all of the puppies, you will have to…drown them."

"Yes. But hopefully it will not come to that," Seregeth answered. "Now, eat what you are going to. We leave in thirty minutes."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Thranduil was alone. He had risen even before the sun; and after unwrapping the bandage around his arm to examine the wound acquired last night, and dressing, he had left his private rooms – without a word to Laerwen – to closet himself in his study. Not that he had work which needed to be done, but because he was not overly keen to see his wife this morning – something that he had never before felt, in all their years of marriage.

The events of the previous night were still fresh in his mind, and no matter how he tried, he could not find a way to justify what Laerwen had done. She was hurting. But no more than he. Yet it was only she who found it necessary to fight that pain with foolish notions that in the long run would no nothing but hurt her further.

'Maybe I am being unjust,' the Elven-king thought without conviction. 'Maybe I should have-

The door to his study opened, and he looked up sharply. Deep down he had expected it to be Laerwen, and so it was. But he said nothing, just watching her frostily. Her fair face was pale, and shadows were starting to make themselves known under her violet eyes. It seemed as though she had found even less sleep than her husband the previous night.

"I heard you rise this morning," she began tentatively. "I spoke to you, but you did not reply."

"What is it that you want, Laerwen?" Thranduil asked, his voice sharp.

"I…I just…am concerned. For you," the Queen answered. She paused, and took a few steps forward. "What happened to your arm? I saw the bandage. I wondered…"

"Why are you concerned for me?"

Laerwen was silent and still for a moment, but then she stepped around the oak desk, and stood behind her husband's chair. Her hands fell down to rest on his shoulders. "Why should I not be concerned, meleth-nin? You have grown cold towards me, you do not speak. And I-

"What I meant was, why are you concerned for me when any concern should be directed towards yourself?" Thranduil amended. "I am not the one for whom worry should be felt."

"I do not understand that." Laerwen's voice trembled slightly, but her hands were calm as they started to braid a long lock of her husband's hair. "I am not quite sure what you are trying to say…"

Thranduil was still, silent. He could feel his wife's fingers moving deftly though his hair, but it gave him no comfort. She had always done it, but in happier times, in the life they had left behind. And that made a strange feeling of anger rise in his chest. He shook his head, and felt the lock of hair fall free. That was better. There were some things that were best left alone, because if not, they would only conjure memories of a lost life.

"You cannot even bear to have me touch you," Laerwen whispered.

"Why are you doing this?" Thranduil rested his head in his hands, and closed his eyes tightly. "Why do you act as though everything is normal? Because it is not. Or have you forgotten last night, and what you did?"

"It was no crime."

"I said not so."

Laerwen walked back around the desk, and sat opposite her husband. She tried to meet his gaze, but he did not raise his eyes. "Thranduil, I have not forgotten what I did last night. I lay awake for hours thinking about it. And I know, maybe even more than you do, just how foolish it was of me to believe that Legolas was coming home to us. I know that what I saw was but a dream. I know now, and I knew then."

"If that is so, why did you torment yourself further by going to his room and pretending that he would be returned to us?" Thranduil asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "We are both in so much pain as it is. Why bring more upon ourselves?"

"I had to go to his room. I had to convince myself that Legolas was coming back, because the joy that that falsehood brought to me was so great that it shut out the pain," Laerwen said shakily. "But when I let reality come crashing down, the suffering was intensified. It hurt so much. But it was worth it. For a few minutes, I could believe that my baby was…coming home."

As his wife started to sob, Thranduil looked away. He searched deep inside of himself for his connection to his child, and held onto it tightly. It was faint, growing weaker by the day. But he found strength and a degree of comfort in it. What he would do when it…if it faded, he did not know. He wondered often if Legolas could feel it. More than likely not – it was harder for children to feel the internal bond than it was for adults. The knowledge that the Elfling was, in all likelihood, alone, cut deeply.

"Forgive me," Laerwen suddenly breathed. "I do not mean to hurt you. I do not mean for any of this to happen."

Thranduil looked back at his wife, and nodded once. "I know."

"You have work to do, and I am keeping you from it," the Queen said abruptly. She stood, and went to stand by the door. Her fingers curled around the handle, but she looked back over her shoulder to say: "I am going to see Líndariel. She lost a brother in the Orc attacks. We have much in common."

As he was left alone once more, Thranduil exhaled deeply. He liked Líndariel. He always had. But he was no longer happy with his wife being around her too often. There was talk that she would sail to Valinor soon to escape the pain conceived by her grief. If Laerwen should pick up on the idea… The Mirkwood ruler shuddered. It did not bear thinking about. He could not lose his wife as well as his son.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The town that Seregeth had spoken of was nothing more than a village. Despite its size, it was full of people who had come to either sell or trade their wares – animals, food, weaponry, books and art. It was difficult for one to move comfortably; and it was often that small fights broke out amongst men who had pushed too roughly, or stepped on another's foot whilst trying to manoeuvre around the market.

Legolas watched it all from underneath the hood of his cloak – which he had been forced to wear to hide his race – with great interest. He fixed his eyes on passers-by and gazed at them intensely, waiting for the moment when he would see a familiar face – though that was, of course, unlikely, and he knew that. But still, it was comforting to have hope.

He stood with Seregeth and Criltha at the side of the market, though the two mortals did not speak to him. Both were staring unseeingly into the crowd, as though they had seen this sort of event many times before, and were now tired of it. But the Elfling did not mind their silence. A large wooden crate was at his feet, so at least he was able to play with the puppies in it. Two had already been sold – one for coins, the other for venison, which was apparently hard to come by in those parts. Two remained.

"It will rain soon," Seregeth murmured after a while, glancing up at the dark clouds overhead. "Maybe in an hour or so."

"And then we will go?" Legolas asked.

"Yes."

"So that means that the puppies have to be sold quickly," the Prince said quietly. He looked around. People had started to spot the clouds, and were already walking away. "But Seregeth, many are leaving now. What if there is no-one left who wants to buy them?"

The man glanced down, and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I have told you already what will happen. Now, I am going to find a friend of mine who may be interested. I am trusting you two to stay here. Even if you do not, I will find you easily. This is a small place."

Criltha did not reply, so Legolas nodded and said for them both: "We will stay."

"If an opportunity comes to sell a dog, be sure to get the right price for it. I do not want to be robbed." With a final glance at his captives, but without another word to either, Seregeth turned, and disappeared into the crowd.

There was silence for a minute or so as Criltha continued to stare at nothing at all, and Legolas stuck his fingers into the crate. He smiled as the puppies fought over who would lick them, their tails wagging furiously. But he looked up as his sharp hearing caught the sound of a long and deep sigh that spoke clearly of misery. It came from Criltha, and she seemed unaware that she was being watched.

"I have noticed something," Legolas said softly, after another minute had passed. "I think that you should know if it."

"Oh yes?" the girl asked. She turned to look at the Elfling, and raised an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

"Well, I cannot find a reason for you being kept by Seregeth. I have been looking for one, but…" Legolas shook his head. "He keeps prisoners for the power that it gives him, and as far as I know, he does the same thing every time he gets a new child."

"What would that be?" Criltha repeated. She sounded bored, but her expression was one of vague interest.

"When I arrived, I was made to do normal chores around the cottage and with the animals. Amarth – the man who brought me here – said it was so that if any townspeople saw me, they would not be suspicious," Legolas explained. "But Seregeth hasn't made you do a single chore for him. Not that I want him to, I just think it is strange. All you seem to be doing is living with him. That does not make sense to me."

Criltha shook her head, and laughed. It was a hollow sound, without humour. "I see where you are coming from. But Legolas, you have much to learn." She paused, and her lips curled upwards in a strange sneer. "I would not expect you to understand."

"But I want to know," the Elfling replied. "It confused me, that is all. Amarth told me that Seregeth keeps younger children, and you are…sixteen years of age?"

"Seventeen."

"Exactly, and I-

"Can you think of no reason why Seregeth might want me?"

"No."

Criltha smiled, and leaned down close to Legolas' ear. Her voice was full of strange laughter as she whispered: "He wants me for my body, little boy. He wants me to fulfil the needs that cannot be fulfilled elsewhere."

The Elfling was silent, but as he realised what the girl meant, a faint blush crept over his cheeks. He looked down at the ground, and kicked softly at it. "Oh. I…I see, I…" He bit on his lower lip.

"Of course you do."

"I'm sorry, I didn't…" Legolas trailed off as a young mortal boy appeared before them, and stared into the crate. "Hello."

"Hello. Nice dogs."

"Yes, I like them. Do you want one?" As the mortal looked up, Legolas pulled his cloak tighter around himself, further covering his ears and hair. "I have to sell them, otherwise they will be drowned. I don't want that."

"No. And yes, I very much want one," the boy replied. "My father will not allow me to, though."

"That's a shame," Legolas murmured sympathetically.

"Yes. Father wants a couple of dogs as it is, so he would gladly pay for them. But money stands in the way. It always does." The boy smiled, and turned away. "Well, goodbye. I hope you manage to sell the pups."

"So do I," the Elfling said quietly.

Criltha laughed nearby. "You will not sell them. You may as well give up trying to do so now. You are only wasting your time. But never mind, I care not. I am going to go and have a look around."

"Seregeth told us not to-

But the girl had already walked away. Legolas stared after her for a few seconds, but then he tore his gaze away with a shake of his head. Let Criltha do as she pleased. If she wanted to get into trouble, that was her choice, the child reflected as he looked around the town. The boy with no money was standing nearby, examining some chickens and talking morosely to the one trying to sell them.

'How unfortunate that he wants both puppies but cannot have them,' Legolas thought. He was still for a moment, but then a smile spread across his face as an idea started to make itself known. Maybe there was a way for the boy to have the dogs.

Meanwhile, Seregeth had found his friend – a tall, dark haired man called Taras – and the two stood together at the other side of the market, talking quietly. From their position, they had a clear view of Legolas and Criltha. Upon seeing the girl move, Seregeth had hissed in annoyance. But he did not worry too much. Through the dispersing crowds, he could watch her closely enough.

"I am not as blind as many others in this town, nor am I as stupid," Taras was saying. "That boy…he is no mortal."

"You have keen eyes," Seregeth said with a smile.

Taras shook his head, and let out a low whistle. "An Elf. I knew you were good at getting what you want, but I did not realise just how good. How did you get him? Where from?"

"I was owed a favour by Amarth. Perhaps you know him. He lives in that town about a league or so away," the elder man answered.

"The one in which your children live?"

Blue eyes narrowed to mere slits. "The very one. But as I said, he owed me a favour. So, he went to Mirkwood and came back with the boy."

"I see. And I imagine that the lives of those Elves have been turned upside down by the loss," Taras said. "I do not know Amarth, but I admire him for achieving such a thing. Surely it cannot be easy. Incidentally, what name does the child go by?"

"Why? How many Elves do you know?"

"None. I am curious."

"Ah. He is Legolas."

Taras' head suddenly shot up, and he stared at the other man through narrowed eyes. "Legolas? I know that name. Why, I do not know, but it definitely rings a bell in my mind. Legolas… Where do I know…?"

"Well?"

"No. I cannot put my finger on it," Taras murmured.

Seregeth nodded slowly. "Hmm. When he told me his name upon his arrival at my cottage, a strange sense of recognition flared inside of me. But I pushed it aside, and thought nothing more of it."

"It more than likely means nothing," Taras shrugged. "But still…I would very much like to remember where I know the name from."

The older man nodded his agreement. "As would I. But no matter, it is trivial. As for the girl, did you see her?"

"Aye. Not as young as you normally go for," Taras commented.

"There are some needs that children cannot fulfil," Seregeth said with a grin. "At least, not for me. So that is the purpose of her. Yes, she is older. But if she makes trouble, I will let her go."

"Not before introducing her to me, I hope," Taras said. A strange glint was in his eyes, a hungry and lustful one. "After all, why waste her?"

Seregeth started to nod once more, but as soon as his gaze fell upon Legolas, he stopped. "The brat!" he snarled. "He will pay for this…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas lifted the two puppies from the crate, and pulled them into his arms. Together, they were heavier than he had thought. Holding them tightly, he made his way through a group of elderly women to the boy with no money. With some amount of difficulty, he reached up and tapped the mortal's shoulder, saying: "Excuse me…"

The human turned, and smiled. "Hello. Again."

"I have to be quick, because I don't know how long my…well, I don't know how much time I have left alone," Legolas said in a low voice. "But I thought it was sad that you couldn't have the puppies, even though you were desperate to. Take them."

"Eh?"

"I want you to have them."

The mortal's eyes widened as the dogs were pushed into his arms. "Are you fooling me? I don't have money to give as payment, or-

"It doesn't matter. The only payment I want is this: hide yourself until you see me leave here with a man and girl. If the man sees you with the puppies, he will take them back and drown them," Legolas cut in swiftly. "Just do as I say. Please."

"I…alright, then. Thank you for this, I-

But the Elfling had already gone. He ran back to the now empty wooden crate, and sat on top of it. He looked around quickly. Good, Seregeth was still nowhere to be seen. Exhaling in relief, Legolas reached down to the ground, and gathered a handful of dust. He looked at it for a moment, hesitating to do what he knew he had to, before shaking himself mentally. Raising his hand, he threw the dust into his eyes. They immediately started to stream.

He looked skywards, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. 'Ai, that hurts!' he thought.

Not even a minute later, Seregeth was back, with Criltha following just behind. His face was impassive, but his eyes glinted as he gestured towards the empty crate and said: "Ah, you managed to sell-

"I am so sorry," Legolas breathed. The tears conceived by the dust continued to stream, and he buried his wet face in his hands. "I really am sorry, I didn't mean to… They have gone. Both of them have gone."

"Well, that is good," Seregeth answered. "I did want to sell-

"No, you don't understand!" Legolas choked. "I let the puppies out so that I could play with them, and they…they ran away. I didn't mean to let that happen, I…I couldn't stop them, though."

"They escaped?" the man asked sharply.

"Yes. And I don't expect you not to be angry with me, because you should be; and I will not ask you not to punish me, because I know that I deserve it," Legolas whispered. "I failed in what you wanted me to do."

Seregeth was silent for a moment, but then he shrugged lightly. "I am not angry. Disappointed that the dogs got away, but not angry. It was not your fault. You did not mean for this to happen."

"You…you are not angry?" Legolas repeated, stunned.

"No. Now come, let us go home before it starts to rain."

Without pausing to further question his captor's strange behaviour, the Elfling stood up quickly, and turned away from the two mortals. He immediately started to rub at his streaming eyes. The dust stung them, but at least they had made his story believable. Behind him, however, Seregeth was shaking his head in what appeared to be amusement, with a smile painted on his face.

"You just lost two dogs," Criltha said. "Why is that reason for happiness?"

"It is not. But never mind."

Seregeth bent down to pick up the crate, and laughed softly to himself. Legolas had just told a lie. He had, in fact, lied to such an extent that he believed he would escape from this little stunt. But the mortal would not let that happen. He had watched from the side of the market, he had seen it all – the boy with no money receiving the animals for not a single coin, the dust to make tears appear. That angered him. But he would enjoy finding a punishment to suit the crime.

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

Back in Mirkwood, Laerwen was having trouble focusing her attention on Líndariel. She both sympathised and empathised with her friend, but despite that, she could not stop her mind from straying. For the first time in many days, her thoughts were not devoted to Legolas. Instead, something that the other Elf had said about the Grey Havens had transported her to a time long gone…

Begin Flashback

It was the middle of the Second Age. A contingent of Elves from Greenwood the Great had travelled to the newly founded refuge of Imladris. Among them were King Oropher and his two sons. His wife was not there. She had been killed by men only a few months earlier, and although the realm was still grieving for her loss, it was on the road to recovery.

"She would have liked to see Imladris," Laerwen murmured.

"Yes. And I wonder if Prince Vehiron planned his departure around this visit," Alondir said bitterly. "I know that he was keen to come here."

The younger Elf looked up, and shook her head slowly. "Has he truly gone? Has he gone to take a ship into the West, and has he really left his family?"

"He has. I followed him with a few of the other soldiers when he was reported missing. Upon realising his destination, we tried to reason with him," Alondir said quietly. "But you know as well as I that if an Elf's desire is to sail, there is no changing that."

"I know. But how could he leave his family so soon after the Queen's death? They both depend upon him, especially his younger brother," Laerwen pressed. "He did not even say goodbye to them. Alondir, does the King know of this? And Thranduil?"

"I told the King as soon as I arrived back here. He has shut himself away. He will not attempt to go after Vehiron; he will not see Thranduil…" The soldier paused, and glanced sideways at the other Elf. "Thranduil has not been told. He does not know."

"Valar…"

The door opened suddenly, and the two Elves looked up guiltily, as though they had been caught discussing a forbidden subject. A boy of Laerwen's age came in, and his silver eyes flashed as he kicked the door shut behind him. Golden hair lay loose on his shoulders, the braids undone as though he had constantly run his fingers through them. He was trembling with a fear that could not be concealed.

"Why will my father not see me? Where has my brother gone? Why will no-one speak to me, only give me strange looks and whisper as I pass?" he questioned in a low voice. "What has happened?"

"It is not my place to tell you," Alondir said quietly.

"It is Vehiron, I can feel it. Is he well?" Thranduil pressed. "Is he hurt?"

"I cannot tell-

"I will not be kept in the dark. You will tell me, Alondir. You cannot refuse me if I give you an order," the young Prince snapped, "and that is precisely what I am doing. Tell me. Now. What has happened to my brother?"

Laerwen took a step forward, for the soldier had made no move to speak. "Mellon-nin," she whispered. "He has gone. Vehiron is no longer here."

"What do you mean by that?" Thranduil asked quietly. "Surely you cannot mean that he has gone to the Grey… No. He would not. Not now, not so soon after Naneth… You do not speak the truth, Laer. You cannot be."

"But I am. And I am so sorry," Laerwen breathed. "Your brother is leaving for Valinor."

Thranduil gazed at her in silence, too stunned to find any words that could possibly form a coherent sentence. His previously angry eyes had calmed now, and were glittering with unshed tears of disbelief, grief, fear. But then he turned, and left his friends alone. The sharp movement made the silver drops in his eyes shimmer like prisms in the sunlight. One fell.

End Flashback

"Forgive me," Líndariel was saying. "How can I expect you to listen to and comfort me? I may have lost a brother, but you have lost a son."

Laerwen pulled herself back from the past, and shook her head slowly. "We both are suffering for similar reasons. Believe me when I say that I understand your pain. I understand it more than anyone can possibly know."

"What do you…?"

The Queen reached forwards, and held a hand over her friend's heart. "You are hurting inside. You think that your soul is being shattered. Some days you want to die. I know this, Líndariel, because I…I feel it also. Every minute of every day. I feel it."

"It will be the death of you," the other Elf murmured. "Grief steals lives. That you know too, do you not?"

"I do."

"And you know that there is only one thing that can save you."

Laerwen turned away, and said nothing. There were two things that could save her, and the first was the safe return of her son. But there was no hope of that happening, and she knew that. She had accepted it long ago. Her only option if she did not wish to succumb to her grief was to take a ship into the West, where death would not be able to find her. Her only choice, was Valinor.

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

Ok, I am so sorry for not updating sooner. But there is a very good reason for it, and I think that I can be forgiven. Do you remember last week I mentioned that I was waiting for some good news to come through? Well. It did come through. I got a phone call from my agent, because she got me a part in 'Casualty'. For any Orlando Bloom fans, you'll know that he was in it before he became famous! Anyway, I was away this week for a few days filming that, and then I got delayed another day because all the trains coming into Devon and Cornwall were cancelled due to snow. So, my reasons for not updating are fairly good – I wasn't here to do so!

Anyway, here's the next chapter. I've replied to all signed reviews via this new thingy that has been introduced, and I'll be doing so from now on, to save me writing the replies on my bio page, and to save you guys having to go and look at them.

The next chapter will be up next Sunday,

Misto

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