Suilad! Thanks a lot to my reviewers (as always). This chapter is a good deal longer than my others, and a lot happens. Read, review, enjoy!

Orophin regained consciousness slowly. His whole body was throbbing terribly, but at least he was alive. He remembered nothing after . . .

"Irime . . ." He coughed and sat up. His stomach felt like it was ripping. Gasping, he looked around. He was in a clearing. He knew he was not far from Lorien. The elven magic had not yet faded, but was weak in that area. His senses told him he was not alone.

"I was afraid the poison had gotten the better of you." A deep voice said in Sindarin from behind him. Despite the pain, Orophin twisted around. To his surprise an Elf, solemn and stately, sat beside the fire. He was swathed in a dark cloak. To Orophin's surprise he recognized it as one of the garbs worn by the Galadhrim.

"Who are you?"

Legolas shook his head. "It is of no concern to you. I am only a rogue."

Orophin doubted it. "Yet you are dressed as one of the Galadhrim."

"So it would seem."

The younger elf did not like being toyed with. "There was another with me, a friend."

"I was not their when you were captured. I overtook the orcs afterward."

"Alone?" Orophin asked incredulously.

"Aye. Though I did not find what I sought."

"What is that?"

"Peace."

"You attack an orc raiding party hoping for —." Orophin felt like a fool. The everlasting peace, in Mandos. "Oh."

Legolas smiled. "You learn quickly for a Lorien guard. I find most of your kinsmen are incredibly narrow."

Orophin bristled despite himself. "What do you know about guards? You are a rogue, or so you said. Your type know nothing of the troubles a realm faces."

"I was a guard, once."

"Of what?" Orophin spat. "Stolen spoils?"

"You should be more kind to the person who saved your life."

The verbal thrust hit its mark. "Guard of what?" He pressed, softer.

"Greenwood."

Orophin laughed. "Your heart is true, good rogue. No one but a palace guard would speak of that unpleasant forest with such love."

Legolas smiled. "Not even a palace guard." He continued when a light of understanding kindled behind the blue veils of Orophin's eyes. He pressed his palm against his chest in formal greeting. "I am Legolas Thranduilion."

Orophin choked. "My lord, forgive me."

Legolas smirked. "And no one but a guard would choke so badly upon the telling."

The young elf regained his composure, and his eyes darkened. "Then she is dead."

"Who?"

"I know not." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "A strange maid, with an even stranger past. Her name was Irime." He was startled when Legolas shot to his feet. He sensed that the Prince wanted an explanation, so he gave it. "I had just found her a few days before, unconscious. She had apparently been riding alone during the snowstorm."

"Damn that cold hearted bastard to the bowels of the earth!" Legolas nearly yelled, jumping up onto his horse and storming off. Orophin was more than slightly puzzled, and alone.

Legolas' horse tore through the trees, the rider in a fury that bordered on madness. Weaving in and out between the rocks and splashing through the streams, Legolas found his way easily back to where the skirmish had taken place. The orcs left an easy trail to follow, even if it was a few days old. His mind told him that after that time, in this damned weather, she would be long dead. His heart would not let him believe it. His heart would never believe it.

He pulled the horse to a halt and leapt off. Frantically searching the ground, Legolas felt the familiar pain return. There was blood, so much blood. Orc blood, elf blood, he could barely tell. A sudden sound, like an injured animal, made him stop. The cry came again, faintly. Surging through the underbrush Legolas stumbled upon something he would never forget.

The image was like a fiery brand that was pressed against his soul; it would never leave him. Her hands were tied with a chafing rope to the tree behind her head. His gorge rose. There was blood everywhere. Legolas fell to the ground beside her and cut the horrid ropes. He took her body in his arms, pushing a bloody strand of hair from her ashen face. Her breathing was shallow. His eyes burned with tears. Elladan had once told him what it felt like to come upon a woman that had been ravaged by orcs. Those words, while revolting, did the scene no justice at all.

"Irime." He whispered her name and wiped a bloody hand-print from her face. "Melmenya, wake up." His voice was cracking. "Irime." He pulled her body to his own. Knowing that what little time she had left was dwindling, he pulled her onto his horse.

Galadriel had just curled up next to Celeborn when a messenger burst into their talan. "My lady! Prince Legolas has arrived, he has an injured elda with him!"

Galadriel grabbed her husband's robe off of a chair and slipped it on. She ran after the distraught messenger. She was not prepared for what awaited her.

In the healing ward, she found Legolas kneeling beside one of the sick beds. He looked like he was praying. He probably was. The news of his betrothal to a merchant's daughter had been no minor news around Lothlorien. She had hoped that the Prince had found love; it did not matter with whom. Yet as she looked down upon the grief stricken sinda, she knew that it had slipped from his grasp.

Once Legolas had told her what had happened, Galadriel sent a guard to find Orophin. Irime's wounds were extensive, internally as well as externally. She could do very little. Irime's best hope was staying still and being loved. Galadriel had seen the same wounds inflicted upon her daughter. She would not let it happen to another- especially not one this young. Turning to Legolas, she spoke.

"She will need more than I can give; Prince, she will need your love."

Legolas' instant bitterness stunned her. "Not mine alone."

"You and she are betrothed, are you not?"

"No longer. Her heart turned towards another." He sat down on the bed and huffed. "A peredhil other."

"Elladan? His heart is like the wind, first this way and then that . . . . no, not Elladan then, Elrohir?"

"Aye."

"I can not say so about him."

"They love each other. I cannot change that."

They both turned when Irime jerked in her sleep. Her voice was so weak that Legolas wanted to throw himself on a sword. She seemed to have that effect on him. "Elrohir. . . . brother, no . . . . . do not let them . . . . . I am promised . . . . no . . . brother, help . . . . it hurts . . . . Elrohir . . . . he lied to us both . . . ." Legolas wondered what twisted landscape she was wandering through in her sleep. "I . . . Elrohir, please . . . ." Legolas listened for nearly a quarter of an hour as the broken words spilled from her lips. When she finally fell into a deeper sleep and was silent, the Prince went outside and was thoroughly sick. His mind was on one thing only.

Legolas' horse was tired after its long sprint, so he had to use another. He found it slightly ironic that Haldir lent him Elrohir's old horse. She was as stubborn as a mule, but knew the route between the two realms better than any other. The chestnut mare plodded along at a pace just fast enough to keep Legolas satisfied. The mountain trails were narrow, but she did not falter. She knew this path. When they pulled out of the mountains a few days later, the mare began to go faster. She was going to see her master. Again, Legolas found it ironic that they both were seeking the same person, but for entirely different reasons.

Elrohir had been celebrated as one of the most skilled swordsmen in Imladris. Only one other could match him. That other was Elladan, his identical twin. The orcs knew his name and feared it, for good reason. He had never forgiven that hated race for the injuries it had done upon his family. Elrond had discouraged their playful sparring matches, in fear that someone may be injured. His fears were groundless, for the twins had only ever been close. Legolas was hoping for that advantage.

Elrohir heard the pounding of hooves before the rider came flying around the bend in the road. Immediately he recognized his mare, and would have approached but for her rider. He was as a phantom swathed in the opaque cloak of fury. His horse dug her hooves into the ground, having smelled him. The rider saw him too, after a minute. Elrohir instinctively grasped his sword.

The stranger dismounted. "Elrohir."

The voice was familiar, but Elrohir could not compensate that familiar voice with those cold, hateful eyes. "Legolas."

"You killed her." He wanted to scream at Elrohir, he wanted to draw his knives and slay him, but could not. He could not kill the only person who had been like a sibling to him.

Elrohir blanched, but said, "Who?"

"Irime."

The peredhil became even paler. "How could you know that? She went to Lorien!"

"She did not make it."

Elrohir swallowed to keep down his erratic heart. "She was ambushed." It was a statement, not a question.

"She was raped." The cold words sliced Elrohir and he doubled over as he spewed what meager breakfast he had eaten all over the ground. The memories came back.

"Mother!" Elladan's voice echoed through the cavern. The twins were searching frantically, but to no avail.

"Celebrian!" Elrond's voice was laced with worry. "Melmenya!"

Elrohir grabbed his sword – he had heard something. Cautiously he peered around the corner. "No!" He fell to the ground beside her body. "Naneth!" The tears were streaming down his face. He had only just come to his majority. He was too young to have seen this. "Atar! She is here!" Elrond came around the corner and froze.

"No . . ." Grasping her limp hand he brought it to his face. "Celebrian . . . ." Elladan could not move from his place a few feet away.

"Naneth . . . ." Elladan looked at Elrond. "Atar . . . . what . . . ."

"Outside! Both of you go to Galadriel!" Neither of them moved. "Now!" Elrond boomed. Elladan stumbled out into the light and fell to the ground. His throat was blocked by tears. He could not breathe.

Elrohir, though, could not make himself stand. His mother's nearly lifeless eyes were staring blankly towards the ceiling of the cave. Elrond grabbed his shoulder and shoved him toward the entrance. "Go! Quickly!"

Elrohir lurched forward and barely caught himself. He went to call out to his father, but found Elrond at as much of a loss as he. Grabbing Elladan's scruff, he pulled his brother to his feet. He jumped up on his horse and pulled his twin up behind him.

"Noro lim! Noro lim!"

Elrohir looked up at Legolas, and could tell the Prince was not lying to him. "Is she . . . ."

"Not yet." Legolas offered him a hand. Elrohir accepted it. The firm grip instantly became a vice. Elrohir felt the bones in his hand as they began to snap. Legolas threw him to the ground. "Yrch! You lied to her! You forced. . . ." He could not speak; his wrath was too great.

"No! Legolas . . . . why would you think that?"

"Irime whispered in her sleep."

Elrohir turned away. "Then you know everything."

"Everything." Legolas confirmed.

"Legolas, I did not know that . . . ." He could not bring himself to say it.

"She loved you!" Legolas growled. "She deserves respect."

"She has it!" Elrohir screamed. "If she was not . . . ."

Legolas tried for a crippling weak spot. He did not care that it was not true. "Was not what? With child?"

By the look on Elrohir's face, Legolas had found that spot. He looked as if he had watched someone gut him.

"No . . ."

Legolas smirked. "You did not think that your actions would have repercussions, did you?"

Elrohir slumped onto the ground. "Since you know of . . . ." He winced. "You understand how this will shame the House of Elrond. Legolas, mellon, please, you must forgive me. I had no idea of that when —."

Legolas interrupted, "Elrohir, why do you not wed her? She would accept."

Elrohir glared at Legolas. "She is my sister!"

This time, Legolas reeled backwards as if hit by a blow from a phantom hand. "Sister?"

Elrond's son nodded. "I thought you knew."

Legolas joined Elrohir on the ground, finding his legs unstable. "I knew not." He looked at Elrohir. "What I said about her . . . ."

"Forget it all, Legolas, as I have tried to do."

"Forgive me."

"There is no need for forgiveness, mellon nin."

The Prince stood and offered Elrohir a hand, the latter was cautious to take it. The action hurt Legolas, but he knew the rejection came from his own rashness, nothing else. He laughed and grabbed his friend's elbow, so not to further bruise his hand.

"You are needed in Lorien."

"Does Galadriel know?"

Legolas shrugged. "I know not, for we spoke very little."

"Will you wait for me while I get my horse?"

Thranduilion smiled. "Aye, I shall." As he watched Elrohir jog off, Legolas pondered what he had learned. It all was staggering, a scandal that could ruin the House of Elrond. He could not fathom how Elrohir must have felt upon learning that his lover was actually his blood sister. Does Elladan know? Legolas wondered. Probably not, or else his twin would be here, helping to ease his pain. Legolas did not know why Irime had not been acknowledged, and figured Elrohir did not know either. The Prince was curious, also, about who knew. Recalling their short conversation, he had gathered that Galadriel did not know. At least, that is how it seemed. Elrond and Celebrian must know – and those closest to the Lord of Imladris. The name came to him immediately, Erestor.

"Who else?" He whispered to himself. The advisor knew more about the elven city than any other, possibly even more than Elrond himself. Since Legolas was mostly sure that Erestor knew, it meant Glorfindel did also. Rumor had it that those two shared more than just secrets.

The soft plodding of hooves brought him back to reality. Elrohir was on his large grey warhorse and led another behind him. Nodding to the old mare he said, "We need more speed than she can give. Narion will show you haste if you ask it of him." Legolas took the reins of the large chestnut. "She can find her way home."

The Prince mounted the stallion, and watched the mare wander off towards Rivendell. Legolas glanced over at his friend.

"Thank you." The peredhil said.

With a short nod, Legolas urged his horse forward. "Noro lim!"

Irime slowly opened her eyes. Fearing that she still was in captivity with the orcs, her heart began to pound in fear. Her eyes darted around the room, and her pulse began to slow as she realized that, somehow, she had come to Lorien. Her entire body seemed to consist of a giant ache. Her throat closed as she recalled her violation by the orcs.

"You are safe here, lady." A soft voice said from beside her.

Startled, Irime looked over to see the familiar face. "Orophin," her voice was frail. "You are alive."

"Aye."

"Were you not injured?"

Orophin shook his head. "I took a poisoned arrow in my gut, but I am still alive." He hoped to lighten the morose cloud that had descended upon her face.

"How. . . did someone find you?"

The young guard worried his lower lip, wondering if she should be told the full truth of what had transpired. With a sharp realization, he knew that the last thing she needed was a lie. "I believe we now have a friend in common- Prince Legolas."

She nodded, but her eyes took on that distant look that he had come to know. "Yes . . . a friend in common."

"My lady, tell me of yourself."

"There is nothing to tell."

"There must be, Lady."

"First, do not call me 'Lady.'"

"Were you born in Imladris?"

She closed her eyes briefly. "Do not speak of that place."

Orophin nodded, waiting for her to speak. When she did not, he said, "How are you acquainted with his majesty, the Prince?"

Irime glanced at him, surprised. "I do not mean to pry, but how do you know of him?" What she wanted to ask, though, was how he knew that Legolas and herself had been romantically involved.

"Prince Legolas slew the orcs that had . . . . ambushed us."

Irime sighed. "He was wroth."

Orophin sat beside her on the sickbed. "I fear so."

"To where did he go? Were you told?"

The young guard looked uneasy, not willing to rub against her past again. "I know not." He lied.

"How was Legolas when you last saw him? Had he been injured?"

When he heard her speak of him without his proper title, Orophin realized that the relationship between the two elves had been more than friendship. "His majesty seemed well, but had taken an arrow in his shoulder."

"Foolish elf."

"The Prince was very brave, my lady."

Irime glared at him. "He could have been killed!"

Orophin kept silent about what Legolas had told him concerning his wish to die. "No, Lady."

"Do not call me that!"

"Forgive me, my — Irime."

"I wish to be alone."

"Then I shall leave." Orophin stood and gave her a curt bow. He lightly descended from the talan and went to find his older brother. Haldir was at the archery range, training a few youngsters. Seeing his brother approach – or rather, seeing the expression on his brother as he approached, Haldir told them to be off. Orophin walked up and stopped abruptly in front of the March Warden. He clenched his fists and stared at the ground.

"I . . . I will never, in all my years, be able to find one lick of sense in that mule headed woman!" His rant over, Orophin huffed loudly and waited for his brother to say something.

"Little brother," Haldir seemed amused. "You are hopelessly mad about her are you not?"

"No! She is unspeakably rude, and, anyway, does not care about the March Warden's little brothers."

Haldir laughed. "Talk to Rumil, he knows more about such things." Then suddenly serious he added, "Do not forget what she has been through."

"I do not forget." He thought about Haldir's first comment. "You believe that . . . I would ask my brother, who happens to be three hundred years my junior about a ness? Are you fey? Go home, I fear for your health!"

Haldir shook his head, still laughing. "He has had more lovers in his short life than you and I together."

"You are wed."

"So?" The Warden made a disapproving sound. "If you will not ask him, Father always gives good answers to such questions."

Orophin looked completely incensed. Then he smirked. "Is Eliniel with child?"

Haldir looked confused. He knew why Orophin would make a jab at him, but his wife? "Not that I know of . . . ."

Orophin laughed, and Haldir gulped. "I am surprised! Brother, last night they could probably hear you all the way in Hobbiton!" He doubled over in hysterics.

"You impudent little rascal!" He jumped, pummeling Orophin playfully with both fists. It was just getting fun when a voice startled them out of their game.

One of the young elves Haldir had been training ran up. "Lord Elrohir is here! And his Majesty Prince Legolas is with him!" The elder of the two gave Orophin a sideways glance.

"You had better hope you are as good as you say you are, or else the Prince will make you look like a fool. Do not disgrace your name, and please do not mention me as your brother." He brushed a leaf off of the other sinda's shoulder. "Actually, Orophin, do your best not to speak at all, or we will all regret it." Making an obscene gesture, Orophin walked off. Haldir shook his head and knocked an arrow. There was a dull thump as it landed in the target.