Hi everyone. We are so sorry that this took so long to get out. We all lost contact, so the story kinda stopped. But, we are back, well, two out of three of us are back.

Melba has decided to not join us in this story any longer. She has not answered our e-mails, so we are continuing without her.

But on to better news, the next chapter. For those who have lost their place, we continue after Legolas' and Eldarion's abduction. I'll let you review the other stories so you can draw your own conculsions on what will happen.

I'll shut up now and for the famous words, that many of you have been waiting for.

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns all. We own nothing. BOW DOWN TO THE POWER OF TOLKIEN!

AND THE NEXT CHAPTER OF:

THROUGH A CHILD'S EYES

Fatigue had driven Aragorn and his companion to rest. They had been riding for nearly twelve hours and the slighter, younger Archer had been virtually asleep for the past two.

His old talent – borne after a lifetime of traveling - of being able to sleep on the most uneven of grounds had seemed faded after the few years he had spent in palatial luxury. He slept uneasily, slumber plagued by unsettling and often baffling dreams.

Elessar looked down at his sleeve as he raised his arm to take a sip from the glass of wine in his hand. He was dressed in his finest garments, a tunic of the deepest blue velvet studded intermittently with minuscule gemstones with black hose and matching boots.

Across the other side of the Grand Hall, Arwen appeared, her pale face smiling and lovely. She wove her way through the crowd, her silver dress accentuating the daintiness of her movements until it looked as though she floated like a cloud.

Her body was still in the flush of pregnancy and was full, curving in a way that had once thrilled Aragorn beyond belief. But now, he looked upon it with admiration and fondness, all feelings of romance detached from his mind.

"Tis a beautiful evening, my King," Undomiel murmured in his ear when she reached him. "You look majestic."

He flushed with the praise and took her hand, bestowing a kiss upon the soft skin of her palm. "And you, my Lady look fairer than all the stars in the sky."

She smiled happily back and turned as the woodwind quartet in the corner struck up a lively waltz. "One final dance, Aragorn?"

"One final dance?" Elessar asked. Where was his beloved wife going?

He took her by the hand, one arm curling around her waist and started to dance. They moved well together; the Evenstar had the natural grace of the Elves and a keen knowledge of her own body after the first pregnancy. Though he was not a natural dancer and had to concentrate, the King moved well enough.

"Aye," she smiled back. "One final dance."

"But where are you going to, milady?"

"I am tired of late, Elessar. I need to go," and as suddenly as she had appeared in his eyes, she left. He watched her and even as he did so, she seemed to vanish from his sight until she was gone.

Then in the same mystifying effect the guests in the hall disappeared until he was left alone.

The marble of the hall around him seemed to colour, the white and grey hues of the stone darkening until they were a swathe of greens and nature's colours. Then the angular lines of the walls softened into trees, grass and shrubs.

He saw a sudden blur of gold and spun quickly trying to locate the source. Then from behind the trees he heard the sweetest voice singing, it was an elvish ballad, he could tell that by the words and the melancholy ornaments on the word, yet for the life of him, Elessar could not translate the lyrics.

It was as though something in his mind would not slot into place.

And then walking into the glade, the same sweet song on his lips came Legolas. He was dressed in a simple traveling tunic yet the mossy suede of it clung to the Elf's body in a way that stirred some strange emotion in Aragorn's breast that he could not understand.

Legolas' hair was free of his usual plaits and hung unornamented around his pale face save for a few braids. As he drew closer Aragorn could see that one was coming free from his restraints and he reached up to gently touch it. "Your braid is falling out," he murmured and began to plait it.

A small smile crept onto the archer's face and he grasped Elessar's hands, pausing them and moved them one was place on Legolas' hip and the other in his own hand. "That is much better, I think," he said with a tinkling laugh.

Elessar froze in that position, alarmed that he could feel warmth underneath his hands. "Do not fret," Legolas reassured him as the Elf wound one arm around the man's neck. "Now, will you dance? I will provide the music for us," and then in a low tone he began singing again.

Slowly they moved against each other until their movements became bolder. Aragorn found himself grinning in a way that he had not for years since his first stumbling boyhood acts of romance for Arwen as he spun Legolas.

If the Evenstar had been a natural dancer, then Legolas was… Every movement was precise and fluid with such grace that made Elessar's heart ache with the beauty of it.

The song drew to an end and as Legolas held the final note, Aragorn pulled him closer until they stood flush chest-to-chest. The King unconsciously noticed just how startlingly green Legolas' eyes were and how perfect the bow of his lips was. Truly, the Elf was a magnificent creature.

Just as Legolas' head had tilted slightly and moved closer, the Prince suddenly went still in his arms and Aragorn watched in horror the slow arch of his back as he collapsed.

Elessar crawled until he was beside Legolas and slid his arm under the Elf's back, lifting him into a sitting position. But still he was limp and only flopped backwards against Elessar's arm.

As he moved in to check for breathing he gave a gasping shout of shock. Legolas' face was horribly bruised – why had he not seen that before?- and his lips were bloody. His adored eyes were blurry and his skin was flushed with fever.

Legolas blinked once, moistening his bleeding lips and whispered, "Elessar, help me"-

Aragorn sat bolt upright, his breathing ragged and his pulse racing.

By his side the boy stirred, "Majesty?"

"An ill omen, Archer," Elessar told him darkly. "I had a bad dream, Legolas spoke to me in it. He pleaded for me to help him." The King got to his feet and began to gather his things, packing them in the saddlebags. He then mounted his horse and wheeled it around.

"Quick. We must not loose any time. Let us hunt."

Like it? A little short, sure, confusing, possibly. All leading to better things. Promise, the next chapter will have a little of Legolas and Eldarion. Until next time, which, I promise, won't be a year from now.

Cassie and Anna. Don't forget to review!