Farlen led the troup around the back of the stronghold, bypassing the bridge over the water and the huge oak doors that served as the strongholds main entry. Well, the official main entry at any rate, as most of the inhabitants used the back way out of habit. Legolas had faced is fathers wrath for the time being, and now it was time to face his Archery Master and commander.

"Out of the fire, and into a different, slightly hotter fire," Avaleina commented, giving Legolas a teasing smile, and then standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek when he gave her an incredibly sour expression.

"And he is in a truly foul mood today." Elossia cackled, skipping through the gate the moment Farlen said the password to make them swing open of their own accord. Merry and Pippin gasped in awe at the gate and proof of elvish magic, since they had not seen it often and were much less able to sense its general presence than their other companions.

Doors suchs as this were littered throughout the forest kingdom he called home, except they were not gates but hidden trap doors on the forest floor. They did not open for any creature who did not utter the password perfectly. They were placed strategically throughout the wood, concentrated on the 'problem' areas where the worst fighting tended to happen. Some held food, clean water, and healing supplies. While others were big enough to fit entire patrols of elves into the earth, shielding them away until help could be sent.

Such safe havens and stubborn doors were to thank for countless elven lives, and a few humans. Unfortunate victims to a growing evil they did not have the power to defeat.

There had been several occasions where Legolas believed he might in fact die in one of those holes. There had been one occasion where he and his patrol has been trapped in the earth for several days, half of them bleeding steadily.

The Orcs had pushed their line of ground overtop of them, and none of the Greenwood warriors had been able to break in long enough to come and rescue them.

He had been laying in the dark for what seemed like ages. Hoping and praying with all of the others trapped with him that somebody would come for them, for none of them would willingly surrender themselves to the horde of orcs above. Orcs hated nothing on this earth like they hated Elves, they all knew the kind of suffering and indignities they would suffer at their hands. All the elves trapped would rather enter the halls safely nestled among the roots of a forest that loved them so dearly, than screaming and crying from the horrible tortures the Orcs would have in store for them.

Avaleina was laying next to him in the dark, but she had not stirred or spoken for at least a day. His thumb was pressed against her wrist unceasingly, the steady but faint heartbeat the only comfort in this endless darkness.

His back was wet with what he imagined was blood, whose blood he did not know. It was not until after they had been rescued that he learned they had laid in the dark for five days, drifting between life and death, before anyone was able to get to them.

Never before in his life had Legolas been so glad to hear his father's voice; first was a great warcry, then the password, and then nearly sobbing his name as he reached into the dark to retrieve his wounded son. Legolas had begun crying the very moment he recognized his father's voice.

Avaleina murmured something to him, and gently tugged on his arm to gain his attention, pulling him from his thoughts and back to the conversation. As if guessing his thoughts, or maybe perhaps just the nature of them, she wrapped her arms around him while he took a moment to collect himself.

His arm slid around her shoulders easily, and he commented dryly, but lacking the usual biting tone, " Oh, good. I survive the very gates of Mordor and Gimli's cooking only be be killed the very moment I return home."

This time it was the Prince who was on the receiving end of a smouldering sour look, "Nobody forced you to eat it, I would have been just as content to watch your starve yourself if only I knew you would not complain about it ceaselessly until you ran out of breath."

"Fortunate for you then, that I ate it, for I never run out of breath.'

"So I have noticed," The dwarf huffed, "I have not had a single moment of peace since we left Rivendell."

Legolas was about to fire off a clever retort when a great gleeful cry broke the air, "Prince Legolas has returned!"

They had finally stepped into view of the training fields, where it appeared the archery master was currently pushing the elite Greenwood archers into complete exhaustion.

They all made to throw their bows away and rush to greet him, but a harsh and firm command of, "Hold," had them all frozen in their tracks.

Ferdan approached him swiftly and purposefully from across the field, exactly as intimidating as Legolas remembered from his first archery practice. The warriors around him held their breath, and Avaleina slid from his side, leaving the prince to face his fate alone, "Legolas Thranduilion!"

The ancient elf was one of the few elves in Greenwood that was taller than its prince, which did not help matters. He came to an agitated stop before his wayward captain, much closer than Legolas might have liked, "I do not care what anyone says, you are far worse than your father ever was."

Legolas nodded,"I know."

Ferdan might still be able to look truly terrifying still even after knowing him for so much time, but he was also a source of great comfort. He might have been blind in his one eye but that did not mean he still did not go on patrols. In fact, when Legolas had finally been deemed old enough and skilled enough it was Ferdan who had led his patrols for over a decade. It was him that carried Legolas back to his father the first time a spider had managed to sting him, twice.

The pain from his back and leg was excruciating, he could feel the darkness and venom seeping farther into his body with every heartbeat. It was hard to hear things, or tell where he was. The venom rang in his ears and clouded his vision, such evil was never supposed to touch the skin of an elf. The sting in his back made it hard to breath, crushing his lungs from the inside while his leg felt as if it had been mangled by some horrid beast intent on ripping it off. There was no antivenom here, they were out. He would have to wait. "We will fix this, elfing, I promise. Just hold on and you will be alright"

"You are the luckiest elfling in all of Arda!"

"I know."

Ferdan had been the archery master since before Legolas was born, one of the few friends of Thranduil who had managed to follow him all through the ages, lands, and battles. He had lost sight in his left eye the same day his father received his terrible burns, but unlike Thranduil he never explained how it happened..

It was easy to see how he had managed to come this far, his body was littered with marks and scars, his temperament so firm it might have been rock. He would have crawled to the third age if that is what was required, dragging Thranduil behind him if he must.

"And you've brought a dwarf!"

"His name is Gimli, I believe you'll like him."

It looked as if he had much more to say, but Ferdan stopped himself and cuffed the prince upside the head once instead. Then, he brought Legolas' head to touch his own, sending a rush of warmth and comfort form his soul and into Legolas' "We'll fix this, elfling."

Tears pricked at the corner of Legolas eyes, a reaction to the combination of the words and the warmth, "I hope so."

The words had been quite, too quiet for even elven ears to overhear. Then Ferdan stood back and addressed the other young warriors, "Resume."

Not unlike a mob of puppies, the warriors of greenwood descended on their dearly missed prince. Legolas was washed into a sea of excited voices, and crushed by more than a few exuberant embraces. Yet, his heart did not sing like it used to. Like it should. The strange detached, cold feeling still lingered in the corners of his heart, unshakable. Except it seemed colder now, here, than it had in Gondor.

Perhaps because he knew the light and warmth he should be feeling in his home, surrounded by those who loved him. He had been home not even a day and already at least three people had felt the shift within him, something he had managed to hide from everyone else for over a year. Even the twins.

He knew this would happen. It was why he had not wanted to return home, there would be no ignoring the crack in his heart here, he would not be allowed to try and hide from it. First and foremost his father would never let him.

Which was probably for the best, his father always knew what was best for him. It did not mean that he was prepared to face this darkness.

Ferdan called for his warriors to return to the training field, including Farlen and Elossia, reluctantly they all filed back to resume training. Legolas turned back to the friends he had temporarily been ignoring, the twins it appeared had already whisked the hobbits away to fill their surprisingly large stomachs, Aragorn and Gimli had settled themselves underneath a tree and appeared to be in a deep discussion.

…..

The three sons of Lord Elrond realized at the same moment that the greetings between Legolas and the other archers would take some time before they even began to calm down. With that in mind the twins led the hobbits away to go find some food, while Aragorn led Gimli under a nearby tree to settles themselves under for the time being.

All things considered, Aragorn thought it had gone very well. Gimli did not seem to share in his opinion, and still looked as if he was mildly convinced he might be turned into a rug still at some point. But considering that Thranduil had been living in Doraith when its King was slain by dwarves, and his only son had just come back from the very gates of Mordor and returned with a dwarf. A dwarf who just happened to be the son of one who belonged to the group of dwarves that had woken the dragon years before near his incredibly flammable kingdom.

If all the King did was ignore him, Aragon considered his friend very lucky indeed.

Seemingly satisfied with Legolas' preoccupation Avaleina laid herself in the grass in front of where he and Gimli rested their backs against the tree the picture of nonchalance, she watched Legolas for a moment before turning to look at Aragorn, "The King requests an explanation."

It was hard to give an adequate explanation to a worried father when you yourself did not have one. "Somethings wrong with him, but he wont talk to any of us about it, refuses to even acknowledge there's a problem. If we press to had about it he just leaves, disappears to places we cannot find or cannot follow to. He will not even speak to Gimli about it."

Which, to Aragorn, was one of the most troubling things about this. He was fairly certain he could count on both hands the number of times he had seen Gimli without the company of Legolas, and vise versa after they had left the forests of Lorien. The two of them had been thick as thieves in all aspects, and they seemed to have an understanding of one another Aragorn was fairly certain he would never achieve. Legolas no longer sought him out but the dwarf if he were injured, nervous, or angry. The elf had told Gimli things, deep personal things, about himself and his life that had taken Aragorn over sixty years to learn about. Legolas was not alway the easiest elf to reason with, but Gimli seemed to have a natural gift for it.

The idea that something was bothering him so deeply he did not even trust Gimli to know about it, was troubling. Frightening even.

To their surprise she laughed, "Legolas? Ignore a problem and pretend it's not here? He would never."

"We knew we had to bring him back here, if he would not let us help him."

She looked to Gimli sensing the deep guilt he carried with him, ashamed something happened under his watch that was enough to change his elf so much. "Do not fret so much Gimli, there was something wrong long before he left for the Fellowship. While I admit it is worse now, and I do not yet know why, it is not a failing on your behalf."

There was a loud burst of laughter from the delighted cluster of archers on the field, Gimli waited for it to die down, "I am ashamed to say I do not know what caused this, but I think it began before we even reached the gates. He has always been flighty, but he became so distracted. Forgot things he should not forget, he had no appetite even after a fierce battle, he did not even force me to endure his songs to the tree's as much as he used to. I tried to keep an eye on him but he got so recluse sometimes, always climbing to places only an elf could. I'm worried for him, deeply worried."

Aragorn blinked in surprise, that was far more than he had expected the dwarf to say on the matter. Especially so quickly, in light of that he saved him from having to ask, "Do you think he will be okay?"

Avaleina paused to listen to something their mortal ears could not hear, an annoying habit of wood elves, "Ask me that question again later, excuse me."

Promptly she sprang upwards and into the branches of the tree, disappearing for a moment. Aragorn looked around hoping he would be able to spot where she came back out, thankfully he caught the movement in the corner of his eye and was surprised to find that she had dropped next to the King.

He had not been aware that Thranduil had already made it back to his stronghold, he had not noticed him pass them by from the gate and so he suspected he had in fact beaten them there. Though Aragorn did not know how, he supposed the tree's were an option, and while he was the King of the forest Aragorn was fairly certain he hardly ever choose to travel by the tree's unlike most of the elves that lived here.

There was an uncomfortable sensation of making eye contact with Thranduil from across the field, and he briefly wondered exactly how good the King's hearing was, and then the elleth thankfully stole his attention away.

"Where did she go?"

He indicated with his chin to where the two had begun making their way slowly along the edges of the fields along the forest. Avaleina appeared to be speaking seriously about something, Thranduil for his part seemed to be listening intently to what she was saying, his head tilted down to accommodate for their height differences.

They walked arm and arm, and it appeared that in her enthusiasm Avaleina occasionally pulled at his arm or jostled him but Thranduil did not appear to mind. Even from here Aragorn could tell how rapidly she was talking, hardly taking a breath long enough for the King to get a word in. Again, he did not seem to mind, bestowing her with a look that was not a smile but far from unhappy.

"Aule help me."

Aragorn gave Gimli a sympathetic look, "I remember the first time I met Legolas' father. He was less than thrilled to find out that his son had so enthusiastically befriended a mortal. The twins refused to travel to Greenwood for most of my life, afraid the King would blame them for introducing me to Legolas."

Gimli groaned loudly, but the the man continued even louder, "But it was not as bad as I expected. You underestimate our friend and his remarkable ability to get what he wants, and he wants you to be here."

The dwarf did not seem convinced, and buried his face in his hands in silent defeat and acceptance of his fate, while Aragorn continued to observe the two elves.

He considered himself considerably less terrified of the ElvenKing than his brothers, they had always maintained that it was because any misbehavior on their behalf could haunt them quite literally for the rest of eternity. The other elves of Rivendell did not fear him per say, but were wary of him and his people, especially of him. Nobody wronged one of his wood elves, hurtful comments or otherwise without him hearing about it.

They respected him certainly, and rightly so, and should he become angry with them or lose his patience it seemed likely that lesser elves might be afraid of him then. But generally speaking, the King's presence did not seem to bother the woodleves of Greenwood.

Thranduil was their protector, the one who kept a wall between them and the darkness. The one who managed to keep their spirits and morale up through a seemingly endless war, kept them busy and happy, focusing every ounce of his mind on his people and all but ignoring everything else. He was the sort of King that Aragorn hoped to be one day.

There was a reason why Greenwood had survived long enough on its own to even become Eryn Lasgalen, Wood of the Greenleaves. Ruled by a King who just happened to have named his son Greenleaf.

Aragorn had noticed the pinkening of the tops of Legolas' ears when his father first said the name.

The track of their conversation seemed to have travelled to lighter topics, as Avaleina gave a delighted laugh. The King himself did not outwardly appear as happy, but Aragorn knew from experience that if you were to look at him his eyes would be dancing with merriment in a very similar way to his son.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Gimli asked anxiously

"Right now, they are talking about you, my dear friend."

Legolas had returned to them from the archers a grin on his face, and sat cross legged in the exact spot Avaleina had been before, "Although before they were talking about something else, and I would assume it was me, if that helps rest your soul."

"It doesn't."

"Its will be fine Gimli."

The dwarf was not convinced, but said nothing about it. Having also noticed Legolas had finished with the archers Avaleina made her way back across the field, while Thranduil quickly disappeared inside.

She came to stand behind Legolas, who leaned his back against her legs, "What does Ada have to say about Gimli?"

"He has said exactly nothing about Gimli, not even to Galion."

"There see!" He grinned at the dwarf, "I told you it was fine."

The dwarf was not convinced.

…

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