Disclaimer: Must we go through this again? It really hurts me to say I don't own them, so can I not do these annoying things? Sigh... if I must...

AN: (Edited 5 April, 2010) OMG! You guys! I'm so happy you all liked it, sniffs tearfully and reaches for a tissue I'm loving the reviews! Hopefully ya'll will keep reading, it makes me happy... sends virtual flowers to all reviewers Thanx so much! I'll go through at the end of the chapter and credit and answer questions from reviewers.

Special note:Thanks so much to KMSOrligirl for the best review I've ever gotten! (It inspired me so much, I had to sit down and crank out another chapp) This chapter is dedicated to you!

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Legolas struggled to get his mind around the fact that the entire elven population thought him dead. "But--but I don't understand. I couldn't--eight months?"

Elrond gently laid a hand on the prince's shoulder. "You do not remember? How you got here, where you've been, how you've sustained these injuries?" Legolas shook his head slowly, blue eyes never leaving the healer's face.

Elrond shook his head sadly. For a split second he imagined Thranduil's reaction. The images made him shudder, and he quickly turned his attention back to Legolas, who was shaking his head in confusion. "Tell me penneth.What doyou remember?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Well, leaving the palace. At least, I think it was the palace… I was riding Kilios, and all I was doing was taking him out for a run. We were near the eastern border, I believe. It was beginning to get dark, I turned Kilios around and…" Legolas paused.

Now, he could tell something was missing here. But heavy darkness surrounded these thoughts, making them difficult to get at. Obviously something happened, the pain in his side was clear enough. But the further he probed, the deeper the memories sank and the heavier the mists grew.

He shrugged, clearly upset about this new twist of fate. Elrond didn't press the issue. Maybe the memories would come back if left alone. "We sent a messenger to your father. He left yesterday."

Legolas nodded slightly in thanks. Slumping back against his pillows, his eyes shut, as though in concentration. But the twins and Estel knew better.

"Ada!" Elladan said in protest.

"You said you didn't drug it!" Elrohir cut in accusingly.

Elrond shrugged, impassive. "It is not a drug. A simple herb is all. I just didn't put very much in. Sleep will do him good."

Estel remained silent. His own memory, though not as clear or long lasting as the elves, was very precious to him. Without it, how would he remember his tracking skills, to use a sword, which of the twins he was supposed to be mad at? How would he fare? It must be so much worse for an elf, who was used to recalling things nearly a millennia later, clear as the day it happened?

Although, he could remember many things from when he was younger, he remembered the day he first met Legolas with good clarity. Although, when you meet somebody, they tend to be conscious. He remembered all the pranks that had followed. And the annoyance of his father, who kept having to treat cuts and bruises (and broken bones, sprains, dislocated joints and twisted ankles), his only reward being a nice flight up into the trees, courtesy of the twins.

"What are you thinking about, Estel?" Elrond's voice was soft. Estel started suddenly, twisting in his chair.

"N-nothing, Ada. I just… well, I'm confused. How did he lose his memory? There are no wounds on his head other than the gash, but that's just superficial… it's strange is all."

Elrond nodded heavily. "We will have to wait and see, Estel. That's all we can do now." His brows drew together, nearly meeting across the bridge of his nose. "Orcs so close to Rivendell worries me though. They have never ventured this close before. Nor would they spare so many to recapture one elf. You said there were eight dead and one warg?"

Estel nodded. "And if it happened as it did in my dream, one ran after running Legolas through. Maybe they were just a scout party?" They fell silent, each of them wondering about the events that led up to the past day.

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Elladan sat up with a start. His twin gave a snort and turned in his chair. Elladan threw a pillow at him, the soft missile colliding firmly in Elrohir's face. "Ai! Why you…"

The elder twin shushed him and pointed at the bed. Legolas shifted uncomfortably, eyes shut, mumbling softly, too softly for even elven ears. Elrohir moved closer and bent near his friend, hoping to catch some of the words.

"Gwar Glamog!" The sudden burst of sound sent Elrohir's head flying backwards, crashing into Elladan's nose as the elder twin tried (too slow) to get out of the way. Blood trickled down, but he was rooted in place, not even noticing as he listened in amazement to the words pouring from Legolas' mouth.

"No, you cannot do this!…. You dirty spawns of Mordor! Amin feuya ten' lle."

Legolas stopped spouting nonsense and his eyes flew open. "What…?"

"A dream." Elladan reassured, pinching his nose. Elrohir handed him a cloth. "Right?"

Legolas nodded uncertainly. Then a thought occurred to him, and his eyes narrowed. "Your Ada! He did it, didn't he? I should have known!" As the twins started to laugh, he crossed his good arm across his chest and pouted exaggeratedly.

The dream hadn't really felt like one. It seemed real. Like a memory. But the orcs had never… had they? He stared up at the ceiling, wishing it were sky. "I want to go outside."

The twins stopped laughing and began to protest violently. "Ada would kill us!" Elladan proclaimed. "You're not better, it's only been three days for Valar's sake!"

"Yes, but—three days?How did—"

"You were unconscious when we brought you in early two mornings ago. You woke yesterday afternoon for about 20 minutes, and it's just before supper right now."

"Oh…" Legolas contemplated the spectacle he'd probably made for a second, then stubbornly returned to his original topic. "I want to go outside. I don't like being stuck in here. I want to talk to the trees."

"But Ada said he'd skin us if we let you out today!" Elrohir protested. "He wants us to help you regain some of your memory!"

"Maybe the trees will help." Legolas replied shrewdly, a tone of voice that really didn't suit him, Elrohir thought. He exchanged a glance with Elladan and sighed.

"You are such a royal brat, my prince." Legolas simply smiled and held out his hand. He knew that they would give in, they always did. And he really did feel fine, apart from his headache and occasional stab in his side. The broken bones were already healing, his elven ability quickening the process. The stab wound wasn't coming along as fast, but he had good faith in his healing ability. Regularly pushing it to the limit gave you a feel for it after awhile.

The twins helped him to his feet, slowly but surely, not bothering to argue anymore. It was totally and completely pointless. "As long as we don't go past the courtyard." Elladan warned.

"Yes, if all three of us venture out of Rivendell's walls, we'll be attacked by something or other."

Legolas smiled as he listened to the twin's chatter. It had been seven long years since he had seen them last, not counting the mysterious eight months. His father's court was nice, but it lacked the variety of mischief Rivendell offered.

They made their way down the halls carefully, mindful of both Legolas' injuries and any alcoves that Elrond could be hiding in. One of the twins would dart along a corridor, glancing at doors and branching hallways, then run back and help the prince along. Sneaking out was so much fun!

Instead of taking the front way out, they slipped out a side door into the garden. Legolas sighed happily as the wind hit his face. Snow floated down, but he didn't feel the cold, and where any human would have fallen through several feet, they walked along the crust, leaving barely a trace.

A large tree grew in the center of the garden, and that's where Legolas headed. Sinking down on the bench, he leaned against the tree to catch his breath, and ease into the tree's sense of time.

"It is good to see you again, my friend."The great oak's thought was a beautiful baritone, aged with wisdom and time.

"Mae govannen. I have… a question."

"You wish to know what has happened to you. Why you cannot remember the past months."

Legolas nodded, not at all surprised that the oak had read his thoughts. The tree had a wonderful gift for communicating with the Eldar, better than many trees even in Mirkwood.

"I am sorry, penneth. I cannot tell you. You must learn for yourself. Do not despair! Your memory shall return, almost definitely. But when, I do not know. Your friends will help you through the coming months. Trust them."

"I… guess I understand. Hannon le, mellon nin."

The prince pulled free from the tree's grasp and opened his eyes, only to find a pair of grey ones looking straight back. Legolas gasped in surprise and scooted sideways-- only to find that the bench ended rather abruptly six inches to his right.

With a yelp, he went down, flat on his back. The grey eyed person bent over him quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd move so fast. Are you all right?"

Legolas smiled painfully. "It's fine. You startled me. I didn't know a human could move so silently! Well done!"

Estel accepted the praise with downcast eyes, and offered a hand. He knew he had hurt the elf, although he himself had not actually pushed the prince off the bench. "It was not so difficult." He admitted as Legolas gripped his hand. "You were so deep inside the tree that even one of the twins could have snuck up on you."

A snowball exploded over the back of his head, coating both him and the elf with bits of snow. "Would you like to repeat that?" Elladan asked dangerously. Elrohir moved up beside his brother, tossing a snowball from hand to hand.

Estel gently brought Legolas back to his perch on the bench, then turned to face his brothers. "I would have thought that your pointy ears would hear that. Surely you are not deaf as well as unintelligent?"

Snowballs quickly covered the three, and though Estel was outnumbered, he put up a courageous fight. However, you tend to lose when an elf jumps on you from behind and pins your head under the snow.

Legolas laughed as Estel struggled to throw Elrohir off. Finally, he went limp and mumbled, "That's not fair!"

Elrohir clambered to his feet and leaped back on top of the snow. "Now Estel, by experience, you should know that we don't fight fair. Remember your 13th birthday? It wasn't fair that we dumped you into the fountain at three in the morning, was it?"

Elladan smiled reminiscently. "Good days, good days. You should go dry off. And as for you," he turned to Legolas, "you've been outside, now let's go back in before Ada—"

"Discovers you're gone and decides to issue some very unusual punishment?"

The four froze and looked to the door. Elrond stood there, leaning against the frame, a strange look upon his face.

Elladan and Estel grasped Legolas and pulled him to his feet. Moving fast as possible, they slipped past Elrond and hustled back up to the room. Behind them, they could hear Elrohir's plaintive voice, "Honestly, Ada, it was all his idea! You know how he is!"

"He's blaming me, isn't he?"

"Well, it is your fault. You just hadto go outside. Now Ada's going to… you heard him! He'll make us clean the entire stables again! Do you know how long it took me to get the manure out of my clothes?"

Legolas paused outside his door. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "You're still afraid of your Ada? You're nearly three millennia of age!"

Estel shrugged. "You will face a squadron of orcs with nothing but your swords, and you are afraid of Ada, and his punishments? Obviously you have your priorities crossed."

The twin glowered fiercely. "Give me a break! You both know what he does when he's mad at us! Chores, testing new nasty tasting herbs, chores, chores, dinner, chores, muck out the entire stable, more chores, shower, bed. All day. Every day. And don't put it above him to recreate a prank. He can, and he— whoa!"

Legolas tipped forward, sliding out of his friend's grasps. He had not even been paying attention. The stab wound in his side had flared up again, but this time, the ache did not cease. Fiery bolts of throbbing pain coursed through his veins, weakening him more effectively than the strongest sleeping drought.

He wasn't even aware of Estel catching him an instant before he struck the hard floor.