Here's chapter 7! I really don't have much to say now, except that there are only a few chapters left, (sobs) oh well. so here it is-

Thranduil stirred from his heavy sleep. So many confusing dreams, real and yet unreal. He hoped his nightmare had not come true however.

"He's awake!" some one whispered excitedly.

"So it seems." he replied quietly. "How is Legolas?" Thanduil opened his eyes focusing on the scene he could see from the bed. Aragorn was sitting close to the bed beside him, where Legolas lay. Healers were crowded around him and his son.

The head healer looked nervously at the king, "Well, my lord, he- i-is not so well." he told him stuttering.

"Has he awaken yet?" the king asked anxiously.

"Not yet my lord... he still has a fever. It still hasn't broken," the healer said. Thranduil closed his eyes, not again. How many times had his son gotten into mischief? And how many times had the outcome of the incidents ended like this? To many to count.

"Aragorn, how do you fare?" he asked the bent over ranger beside the bed. Aragorn jumped slightly as if he was at loss at the sound of the Kings voice.

He cleared his throat, "I am fine my lord. No scratches for me."

"That is good." Thranduil said. "How long have I slept?" it felt as if only a few minuets.

"Three days my lord, since the battle." the healer answered.

"How many wounded? Are any elves dead?"

"Four are wounded, but not seriously. Most of them left my halls today." the healer looked very please that the elves had left his care. They had obviously done it without listening the healer's discretion.

"Landir is dead." Aragorn said to the king quietly not bothering to turn around.

"He is dead? Poor Landir...Alas for his fate."

"Landir is dead!" the healer cried tears rolled down his cheeks. "He was my brother."

"I'm sorry Meor, we will mourn him at the right time." and the king closed his eyes only to be swept into darkness once more, back to the terrifying dreams. Only allowed to hope that he would wake to find everything back to normal.

"Naneth!" a child called out from his hiding spot in the trees. He poked his head from the branches in dismay; his mother was nowhere to be seen. "Where are you?" The elfling climbed down the tree swiftly, where was she? He had hid in one of the places his mother had showed him. So where was she?

A shrill scream shattered the peacefulness swaying of the trees. The golden hair child walked quickly towards the sound, calling all the way, "Naneth? Naneth!" it sounded like his mothers voice. Though it was filled with fear and pain, instead of love and joy. He quickened his pace breaking out in a run. And then he stopped. The screams had stopped. He knew the direction they came from, but how did he get back to the palace? His father had told him many stories of elves getting lost in the woods, of shape shifters that called out in familiar voices. To lure them to their deaths. Legolas was frightened, was it his Naneth calling out or was it a demon like in stories?

The trees shook their branches and dead leaves crackled underneath some ones feet. Something was coming towards him. Tears ran down the pale skin of his face and he gave out a strangled whisper, "Naneth?"

It was not his mother.

A terrifying monster crashed through the bush towards him.

The spiders.

Legolas gave a great cry and ran back the way he had come. He darted between the trunks as the spider chased after him. He could hear its many legs scrambling and catching on everything. Dead leaves crackled underneath its feet as the elf nimbly out ran the spider, he dodged the webs cast at him as the spider hissed and sputtered as it's prey escaped her. She finally collided into a branch knocked senseless.

He could not stop, he would not stop. Fear rushed through the elflings veins smothering all thoughts. He only relied on his instinct. His mind told him to run and his legs agreed, but his heart was torn. What if he had left his Naneth to die? Legolas ran as his toes were stubbed and legs screamed for release, into the gates of the palace. The servants looked questionably at his speeded passage but he didn't care he had to see his Adar. The doors to his father's study were ajar so he squeezed through. Thranduil looked up from the paperwork on his desk as his son ran to him. The fair child was tear streaked and filthy, his hands were bleeding as he ran into the kings arms sobbing on his shoulder.

"Greenleaf? What has happened to you ion nin?" the king asked his elfling in concern picking leaves out of his hair. His son quieted soon after in his fathers arms, he calmed down as Thranduil dried his tears.

"Nanethshewasattackedbyithinkbythiscreepyspiderthingorashapeshifter!" he said to his father quite fast.

"Sorry little Greenleaf I didn't catch that, talk slower."

Legolas took a deep breath to steady himself as he clung to his father, "Naneth and I were playing hide-and-go-seek, and I hid in the big beech tree, and Naneth- I don't know where she is!" he buried his head in Thranduil's shoulder.

"I'm sure she's fine Greenleaf, let's go find her." he said to his son soothingly cuddling him in his arms. The elfling gave a muffled reply as Thranduil stood up walking towards the yard.

They left the room leaving the older Legolas behind even as he called out to them. Legolas ran after them stumbling as something grabbed his leg.

"Ada!" he screamed as the slimy arm dragged him towards the gapping mouth of a cave that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. "Naneth!" he cried as his mother appeared in front of him, but she looked sadly at him and turned to walk towards his father, who was just a speck now in the distance. Legolas was dragged into the cavern flung against the wall. Yet it seemed that he watched the whole thing from a different perspective. It seemed that he wasn't real, that he didn't have a body.

Legolas.

A voice called out of the gloom.

Go away.

He said to the voice (in his head), he was quiet annoyed. Legolas was sitting in the dark of the cave, all alone, except for the voice.

Legolas!

The voice was sharper than before, and familiar too. But the elf had had enough, and it was all he could do to resist.

"My lord?" a voice called seemingly far away. It awoke Thranduil from his slumber and brought a fresh wave of pain running through his veins. He winced as he struggled to sit up properly as opened his eyes. The head healer Meor helped him sit upright and handed him a cup that he suspected to have pain-killing herbs in it. Indeed it did, the King could taste its bitter contents sliding down his throat.

The pain seemed to lessen in his side after awhile, but the true pain, was about to come.

Wowy, that was a strange chappie if I do say so myself.

OMG! I'm soooooo sorry I left you hanging! I can't belive I did that! AGAIN! sorry, was not intentional...

and sadly, my computer is being packed up now as I type (swats at movers) so I will get my computer hooked up ASAP. k?