Disclaimer: Sneaky squirrels screech scary Sindarin sayings. Lol, Alenor Perhedel, that randomness is for you! They ain't mine, ya hear?

AN: Well, everybody, I must say, I'm very disappointed in you. Although the chappy is way late, you had no right to throw your household objects at me! I have reasons! But I won't waste your time here, seeing as you're about to hit me for not letting the chappy come faster…

Oh ya, and congrats and thanks to silverkonekotsukari for being the 100th reviewer! (Dances)

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Elrohir felt his hand being crushed, and he knew instantly what had happened. "Oh, Elladan, you haven't walked into another wall, have you?" A slightly nasal curse was his answer, and the younger twin knew he had been correct.

"Where'd you hear that? It doesn't sound like an Imladris curse."

"It isn't. Remember that one time we went to visit Legolas when he was grounded, and he kicked his bookshelf because he was bored and all the books fell on him? I heard it after an atlas hit his head."

"Ah."

The twins were silent for a few moments, pondering what their friend was doing then. Elladan was sure that the young prince was getting into trouble again, unaware that they were missing. Elrohir, on the other hand, was thinking enviously that Legolas was outside sitting under a tree.

After a bit, Elladan remarked, "I hope Thranduil never catches young tithen-las using such language."

Elrohir laughed, his first in some time, and added, "There wouldn't beany thing left of him."

As they stopped speaking, the darkness seemed to fall upon them like a thick black cloak, smothering all sound except their own heart-beats. Elrohir clutched his brother's hand tightly, as a feeling of despair washed over him. "We are never going to get out of here."

Elladan turned toward his twin in alarm, though he couldn't see Elrohir's face in the darkness, he could well imagine the expression on his face.

"Yes we are, don't you dare give up on me! Ada has probably already noticed we are missing, and when he questions the guards and realizes we haven't gone outside… it will be a simple enough matter to send out some elves to search for us! It won't be long at all."

As Elrohir's silence continued, Elladan reached out a hand to gently brush along his twins forehead. His fingers felt like they were rubbing smooth ice. "You're still freezing. What is wrong?" Further examination revealed that Elrohir's eyes were closed, and he was swaying slightly on his feet.

"Elrohir?" Elladan carefully settled his younger brother onto the ground and dropped to his knees beside him. His twin remained unresponsive. Now thoroughly frightened, he clasped his brother's hands and began talking, hardly aware of what he was saying. He had the awful feeling that his twin was slipping away from him.

He was barely aware that he was babbling, concentrating only on keeping his brother with him. A tiny part in the back of his mind resented the fact that all the other elves were probably out in the sunshine, laughing and having a great time.

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Legolas let out a groan of disgust as he walked into a spider-web. He was filthier than he'd ever been before, and he shuddered to think what his Ada would say. He was dusty from head to toe, his normally fair, pale skin a disgusting corpse gray. His tunic was ripped, he had stumbled into more dead ends than he could count, fallen down a hidden flight of stairs, had mud smeared across his front from a muddy wall, and now he had spider-webs in his hair.

He was miserable.

If one walked behind him and was silent enough, one could hear his mumblings, which went something like this: "Twins… nothing but trouble… grounded… missing… filthy…. Honey… dratted drafty tunnels… twins…"

He had been searching for the better part of four hours, though to look at him, one might think it had been more like four days. Something had compelled him to take the tunnels when Elrond had approached Thranduil for help in locating his missing elflings. Why, he did not know, but he was beginning to regret it.

Occasionally he lighted another torch he had selected from a bracket on the wall. He had no intention of being trapped down there without light.

As he repeated this process, he noticed that the bandages around his hands were no longer a bright and clean white. They looked like everything else on him: filthy. Sighing, he set the old torch down and picked up the new one, wincing as the rough wood scraped against his cuts.

He continued, wondering what on Arda had possessed him to go into the tunnels. He did not particularly like tunnels. The secret ones behind the tapestry were inviting in only one aspect, and that was because he didn't know what was in them. He knew what was in these tunnels: dust. And mud, and hard stone walls, and mysterious puddles. And not the twins.

Legolas continued, although by now he was sure that the twins were not in the dark passageways, but in fact off laughing over the fact that some poor elf was down in the dank darkness looking for them. It was all probably an elaborate prank.

He wished he had thought of it (if only to make sure that Nethidal would be the one in this position).

His sharp ears picked up the sound of running water, and he headed toward it eagerly, hoping for a chance to clean up before running into someone. The echoes bounced off the stone, making it difficult to understand where the underground stream actually was, but he was persistent, and in less then twenty minutes, he found himself staring at a cheerful bubbling stream.

Happily, he knelt beside it, allowing the water to rush over his sore hands. It was absolutely frigid, but it cleaned the dirt well enough. The current was fast, and before he realized it, the bandages around his hand were pulled off and sucked away. The water now brushed fully against the cuts, and he winced in pain and surprise.

The water, though refreshing, burned against the wounds, reopening them and causing them to hurt even worse. Gritting his teeth, he quickly washed his arms and face, washed away all the dirt and grime that had accumulated there. He then ran his fingers through his hair, dislodging the spider webs and smoothing it back into place.

Glancing down at his tunic, he flicked off the dry mud in annoyance. Then he washed his hands again, clenched his lip between his teeth as the water plucked at the edges of the cuts. There, he was at least partly presentable. He picked up the torch and went on, committing the place and how to find it to memory. Perhaps, when he had no open wounds and more time, and if he ever wanted to come back to this rotten place, he would explore where the stream came from and where it went.

Twas a very big 'if'.

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The rocks were incredibly interesting. There was nothing that he would rather do than look at the fascinating structure of underground rocks all day. Some were round, others were square, and still others were a strange kind of shape for which there was no name…

Legolas shook his head furiously and sighed. So much for trying to amuse himself that way. Telling oneself (an elf no less) that rocks were enthralling was like telling oneself that dwarves were endearing. Neither statement would ever be believed.

Truth be told, he was ferociously bored. Yes, he was still looking for the twins, and no, he hadn't found them, but… there is only so many rocks I can look at before I go completely mad! Out of my tree, as I believe Elladan would say…

On and on the tunnels went, and Legolas was surprised at how extensive they were. It felt like hours since he had left the stream, but he had a feeling, if allowed to glance at a clock, it would have been only fifteen minutes. Time dragged underground, as if, since there was rarely anyone to keep it, it often turned lazy and slowed.

He could only imagine what it would have been like for the twins if they were indeed trapped and lost down here. He remembered their near-disastrous trip down into the tunnels, and how Elrohir had been so fidgety. He didn't like the thought of what might happen to the younger twin if stuck down in the caves for nearly a day. It sent cold shivers up his spine.

A flickering twist in the shadows had him spinning about, hand going to his belt, feeling the comforting grip of his dagger slide into his hand. A quick but thorough search revealed nothing, but his nerves were still on edge. He picked up his pace, fully on alert now, determined to understand what was going on in these awful passages.

He jogged now, but silently, frequently turning about, moving down side passageways only to turn and come back out. He caught another glimpse of the shadow creature, but not nearly enough light was shed to see what the thing really was. In a second he was after it, racing along the tunnels like he was born and raised there, but it did not take long for the shadow to give him the slip, and he was forced to slow his frantic pace.

In annoyance, he turned around and went back along his way. There was absolutely no reason to follow ghosts deep under ground. Well, he thought gloomily, any deeper than I am already…

Resigning himself to the fact that some shadow creature wanted to follow him, he began to be bored again. He doubted that the creature would kill him, sensing more of a curiosity than animosity. He could certainly understand that.

Legolas sighed again. He certainly wasn't about to try telling himself that rocks were fascinating again. He wanted to talk. So talk he did, reciting history, old tales from the Second Age, and even trying to imitate Deladri's ghost stories.

Surprisingly, he didn't feel as if he completely mutilated the storyteller's legends.

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Elladan's eyes snapped into focus. His uneasy doze had been interrupted by a sound completely unfamiliar to these dark tunnels, and yet, seemly fitting.

He strained his hearing to catch the sound that had caught his attention. He needn't have bothered. It came again, loud and clear. And much closer.

He would have bolted but for Elrohir. He wouldn't have left his twin for the world, much less a creepy sound that was probably his imagination. But then, imaginative sounds didn't get closer.

It began low, this bubbling noise that reminded him of boiling goop, and rose through the scale, ending in a high screech. He shuddered, it sounded like something straight of a horror tale.

Several minutes later, just as he was starting to relax, a flickering light came around a corner. Elladan shut his eyes in pain; after being in the dark for so long, his eyes were extremely sensitive. But that didn't stop him from hearing a sound, this time much louder in volume, and not just because of the frightening nearness.

While the sound was still echoing throughout the tunnels, Elladan felt a tug on his ankles and a cry of fear escaped him, mingling with the cry of surprise from his assailant. He opened his eyes, though the world was still rather blurry, and squinted.

Sprawled across his lap, clutching a torch and looking extremely surprised, was the prince of Mirkwood himself. He instantly rearranged his face to one of formality, though it worked about as well as it did when they had first met him.

"So. Nice to see you again."

Elladan grinned and clasped his friend's hand. He was so happy to hear another voice, someone who could help, that he nearly split his face from grinning. Then he remembered his brother, and his expression changed so dramatically, for a second Legolas thought he had been shot.

He grasped the twin's shoulders, babbling, "What's wrong, Elladan, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

Elladan spun and dropped to his knees. Legolas instantly saw the problem, and fear began to inch its cold fingers around his heart. "He is injured?"

The elder twin shook his head violently. "No, and he would not tell me what was wrong before he collapsed. He is deathly cold, and has been so for hours."

The prince's brow furrowed in concern and confusion. Elladan felt his stomach drop. "You do not know what is wrong?"

Legolas shook his head. "I am no healer Elladan. The best I can do is guess, and guesses are of no use. We must get him back to your Ada."

Elladan nodded worriedly, and moved to scoop his brother into his arms. He would carry Elrohir, Legolas would have the task of lookout and guide. He did not ask what Legolas thought was possibly following them. He would only scare himself.

And speaking of scaring…

As they began to walk, Elladan pulled even with Legolas and asked, "What on Arda were you doing? You scared me to death!"

In the light of the torch, Elladan perceived the prince's fair skin turning a delicate shade of pink. "I'm sorry about that. I was trying to remember the tale of the Bog Beast, and the sound it supposedly made. I think I got it right the last time."

Elladan shivered, remembering the way the hair on the back of his neck had stood up. "I think you're right. You have a talent for that." He eyed Legolas, wondering how on Arda the prince could have made a sound like that.

He decided not to continue that line of talk for fear Legolas would one day remember how terrified the elder twin had been. The wood-elf would probably do a repeat performance on a stormy night.

Instead he picked a different topic. Now that there was someone to talk to, he didn't want the silence to come back. Legolas seemed only to happy to reply, and so they struck up a lengthy conversation on past exploits, comparing ideas and swapping plans to try on their respective households.

The time seemed to go much faster when there was friendly torch-light and an even more friendly elf. Before long they approached a small stream, and Legolas knelt to dip his hands into the water. Elladan gently deposited his twin and did the same, gasping at the icy temperature. But there was something else to the water, something that made him uneasy.

The water began to burn, plucking at the skin as if it wanted to yank it from his bones. Gasping, he snatched his hands from the liquid, but the burning sensation continued for several seconds before fading. A glance at Legolas revealed the wood-elf had also removed his hands from the water and was gently blowing on them.

The prince turned toward Elladan and stretched out his hands, showing the elder twin the cuts that were now deeper and bleeding freely. The skin around the wounds had puffed up, and the normally slender hands were swollen and painful looking.

Elladan hissed through his teeth in sympathy and without a word picked up the torch and lit another. Legolas watched as the twin ripped several thin strips from his tunic sleeves, and approached. He stretched out his hands, silently allowing Elladan access to his injuries.

The Noldor gently wrapped the cloth around Legolas's left hand, but careful as he was, his actions made the cuts burn like fire, and the pain that resulted raced up Legolas's arm like a burst of lightning. It was all he could do not to yank his hand away.

Elladan knew that he was causing his friend pain, but the cuts needed to be wrapped. He continued, finishing the left hand, and then reaching for the right and finished the process.

Legolas smiled at him and examined the neat makeshift bandages. "Thank you, Elladan. They feel better already."

Elladan was studying the stream, a thoughtful look on his face. Cautiously, he dipped his finger into the water and let it trail there for several seconds, but quickly jerked it out when he felt the beginning sensation of a burn. He had wanted to take a drink, having not had anything to drink for hours and hours, but he suddenly felt that that wasn't such a good idea.

Scooping up his brother, he followed Legolas through a tunnel, a smile swiftly growing upon his face as he thought of being out of these confounded tunnels.

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AN: Well, I must say, that being grounded really sucks, and I hope you enjoyed this chappy because I may be grounded even more if my mother founds out I snuck onto the computer to post this.

Thanks to all who reviewed: Flamesof themo0n, Alenor Peredhel, Aurehen, Silverkonekotsukari, and Haldir's Heart and Soul.

I LOVE YOU GUYS!