Disclaimer: Umm not mine. Why I have no clue. I want them to be.

A/N: Well a few new reviewers and a couple of familiar faces here. I likes that. Thank you all for your kind words. I should make a mention of something here. I absolutely adore both Lord Elrond and King Thranduil. I would never have them intentionally hurt someone even if one of them is quite obstinate at times. So don't worry. This will not be an evil Elrond or evil Thranduil fic. So on to the story. Italics represent either a flashback or thoughts not spoken.

Chapter 2: A Desperate Decision

Legolas sat silently in one of the trees just outside the palace grounds. He had been there for several hours seeking the solace that was always present in the trees that surrounded him. Though in the recent past the forest that was once known as Greenwood The Great had become a darker more dangerous place, these trees that were closest to the palace had been affected the least and still held council with the Silvan Elves. Among his people Legolas had an even stronger connection to the trees than most and was often able to sense the thoughts of the trees much easier than his fellow elves. But this night the only feelings and emotions present were those of sadness and fear. It was not hard to tell that the trees were mourning the elves that had already passed and they could also sense the anguish that was held inside the young prince.

The tree he was perched in had immediately wrapped him in its comforting branches hiding him from any prying eyes that might come searching for the elf. For this Legolas had thanked the tree. He refused to let his people see him in such a state of sorrow. Mandil's words and the debate over the elves of Rivendell had brought out all of the painful memories that Legolas had tried so desperately to forget. He had been a very young elf when it had happened. Only a few hundred years old which would have likened him to possibly ten years of the age of men. Still very much a child.

He could not stop trembling as he stood outside the door to the house of healing. They had not thought to close the door or to bring the young prince inside and Legolas just could not move himself to enter either. He could see the healers working furiously to save Aglaran's life. His father and his mother stood nearby waiting for any word that would tell them whether their oldest son would live or die that day.

Small tears flowed down Legolas' face as he stared partly in shock at the bloody tunic that had been discarded on the floor of the healing room. He looked down then at his own tunic that was covered in blood also. The blood was not his and in a small way he wished that it had been. It belonged to his older brother who Legolas feared would soon draw his final breath. That was a fact that Legolas was just not sure he could bear to live with.

"My Liege, we have done all that we can. His wounds are bound and have stopped bleeding," one of the healers said with a slight hesitation to his voice.

King Thranduil had noticed the hesitation though. "What do you fear?"

"Sire, …" The healer's voice broke as he hesitated again. "I am afraid we have found Morgul poisoning in the wound. It is a type we have not encountered before and are at a loss to counteract. I fear that unless he is treated by someone with more experience, he will not survive more than a few days."

Thranduil's face blanched at the words and a heart-wrenching sob was ripped from Limolin, his beloved wife. "This can not come to pass. We must do something." The king's voice was heavy with grief.

"My Liege, may I suggest that you send your fastest riders to the elves of Rivendell? Request the help of Lord Elrond. He, I believe, is the only hope your son has left" The healer's words made sense. Thranduil knew that Elrond possessed a greater store of knowledge in the healing arts than all of his own healers combined. The elves of Rivendell had never truly been very close to his own people but still Lord Elrond had a reputation for going out of his way to help others. It was worth a try if it could save his son. Thranduil nodded to a guard that was standing off to the side and the guard hurriedly left to carry out the task.

Legolas had heard the healer's words. His brother was poisoned. He was dieing. How could that possibly be? Elves were not supposed to die. A soft sob left his mouth of its own accord and Legolas could do nothing to stop it.

Thranduil's head jerked up at the sound and Legolas could see the dark annoyed look that shadowed his father's face when he finally noticed Legolas standing at the door. His father moved to the doorway looking down at the frightened elf child. "Are you hurt, Legolas?"

The healers had already had a look at him and determined that he was unharmed, but Legolas did not possess the will to utter a sound to his father. The small golden head shook slightly and he sniffed trying to pull back the tears he had been letting flow.

"This is no place for you to be. Go back to the palace and get cleaned up. One of us will come for you once we know more." Thranduil's words were not cruel but Legolas could hear the stiff quality they held. He wanted so desperately to ask to stay with his brother, but fear gripped him as he stared up at his father. He nodded once turning and started walking back to the palace.

Thranduil watched as his youngest son walked away, his shoulders slumped; his steps seemed heavy as if he held the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Thranduil was tempted to follow Legolas and offer the comfort he knew his son needed, but at that moment he heard his wife sob yet again as she kneeled beside her oldest son. He turned back to the sight that nearly broke his heart into small pieces. Limolin had a strong bond with her oldest son. She loved Legolas as the beautiful, sweet Elven child he was but Aglaran was a living extension of his wife. At times it was hard to tell that they were not the same person, their minds were so alike. A fear gripped his heart then. If he lost one he would surely lose them both. He crossed to her kneeling beside her wrapping his arms around her offering the comfort she needed most at that time as thoughts of his youngest son were erased from his mind.

Once Legolas reached the palace steps he could no longer hold back the tears that streamed down his face or the sobs that wracked his body. He pelted up the steps and ran through the halls as fast as his small legs could carry him. He did not stop running until he was in his own chambers, where he wrapped himself into a small ball on the bed sobbing into the pillows, not caring about the blood or tears that were surely staining his sheets. The thoughts streaming through his head would just not let his young mind find any comfort in these dark times. Why had he done it? Why had he let himself be so foolish? If he had only accepted his punishment instead of running away, Aglaran would have never had to go out looking for him. Legolas would not have gotten lost and they would not have ended up in the dark part of the forest, where the orcs and spiders roamed freely. And his brother would be safe and whole. It was his fault. His brother would die and it was his fault.

Legolas would never forget that day or the days that followed. No one had come to tell him what was happening to his brother. He spent hours on end sitting on the windowsill in his bedroom watching as people came and went to the house of healing. The palace servants brought him food and drink but Legolas had little use for either as he waited. Seven days later he watched as his father pulled the distraught form of his mother from the house and back towards the castle. He could see that his mother looked as if she had no will left to live and his father had tears of grief coursing down his cheeks. Legolas' own tears had not stopped since the day his brother had been wounded defending him from the orc attack. But as he watched his father and mother coming towards the palace he realized he had no more tears left to cry. His brother was dead and he might as well have also been for his guilt was almost more than his small heart could withstand. He vowed then to never again do anything that would cause pain or heartache to those he cared for no matter what the consequences to himself.

He found out later that Lord Elrond had refused to even speak to the elf sent for him and the only thing that the messenger could garner from the elves of Rivendell was that Lord Elrond would receive no visitors then or for a long time to come. It had been a cryptic response at best, but had caused the rift that now separated the two Elven races. Limolin had not survived long in the world after the loss of her son as she began to fade away. To save her that kind of death, Thranduil had sent her to the Grey Havens to sail across the seas to Valinor where he hoped to someday be reunited with her.

Thranduil never once mentioned what had taken Aglaran into the woods that day and though Legolas had felt many times as if he should say something to his father, he had never had the courage to bring up the death of his brother while with his father or any other for that matter. It was something that was never mentioned in Mirkwood, but almost always in the mind and heart of the Elven Prince.

As the night began to wear on Legolas began to hear the first strains of a lament for the dead being sung. He peaked out from his hiding place in the large tree and watched as yet another body was taken from the house of healing and carried by several of the healers to the place where they would prepare the body for burial.

His eyes already stung from the tears he had shed earlier but yet again he felt the deep pain as he wondered which of the souls he had prayed over earlier were being born from the house of healing. This had to stop, his mind screamed. Father, please forgive me, but this has to come to an end.

A/N: Okay I know. Slightly short chapter here, but I wanted to end it right as Legolas made his decision. Next chapter the Elf and Human get to meet. I need to mention one thing. In this fic Estel will be 17 years of age while Legolas is comparatively 18 in human years, which I am not gonna say how many in eleven since Tolkien never explained the concept. I will be writing Legolas as seeming slightly older than that though due to his own drive to be a responsible elf for his father's sake. So even though they might be close in actual age Legolas will seem quite older than Estel.