Legolas awoke to the sound of falling water, somewhere outside. Before he could think of anything else, a horrible image entered his mind.

Estel, falling off the cliff.

"No…" he groaned.

He didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to face Elladan, Elrohir, or Elrond. He didn't want to face anyone. He didn't want to face what he had done.

He had let Estel fall.

He blinked tiredly and took a deep breath, looking around as he sat up and stretched his exhausted limbs. Dim morning light filtered in through the curtains and he saw that he was in his usual guest room in Rivendell. Standing up, he wrapped a nearby robe around the nightclothes he was wearing.

The room was completely empty.

Where was everyone? He felt his throat tighten and his heartbeat quicken.

Everyone really does hate me!

And why wouldn't they? I killed Estel!

Filled with despair, he walked into the hallway and saw Elrond near the end, turning a corner.

"Lord Elrond," he called softly. "My lord…"

The Imladris lord turned, his expression somewhat frightening the prince. Legolas suddenly felt very small and young, like an outcast in a foreign place. Clutching the robe tighter around him, he timidly looked at the ground. "I am sorry to bother you, Lord Elrond," he whispered as the elder elf walked up to him. "But, but I just woke up and, I do not know what day it is or what happened, what happened after…"

He looked up hesitantly.

"Legolas, it has been two weeks," the younger elf felt his insides twist at the sound of Elrond's voice and found it nearly impossible to keep eye contact. "We are not sure why, it seems to have been grief, but you have not awoken since," Legolas saw extreme sadness in his eyes. "Legolas, it was not your fault. Please understand, no one holds you responsible."

The blonde elf stepped back and weakly shook his head. Hoping desperately not to hear the next words.

"Estel is dead."

Legolas was extremely disoriented when he suddenly found himself lying down again, surrounded in darkness. But before he could think about what had happened, his mind was wiped clear. He couldn't think of anything.

Anything except for the pain.

He gasped, choking back a scream. His eyelids squeezed shut as the most severe pain he'd ever felt shot up his back. It felt like he was lying on a bed of fire. He shifted involuntarily and the burning increased tenfold. It took him many minutes to focus on anything but the shock and agony.

He was horribly confused when he began to recall where he was, blinking back tears. Why did it hurt so badly now, when the last time he had awoken he had been fine?

"Legolas?" he heard a surprised voice beckon. "Legolas, are you awake?" He felt a hand brush across his forehead but his vision was dull and cloudy. He couldn't see anything but grey haze and a faint, foggy outline of a room. He took a deep breath, shaking.

"Y-yes," he managed, his voice barely audible, sounding like a hurt child's. He tried not to whimper as the pain shot through every inch of his body. He couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it didn't matter. He just wanted it to stop. His stomach took a violent churn and he felt nauseous. He found himself aching desperately for his father.

"W-what happened?" he whispered. He blinked several times and finally just closed them as his sight continued to spin, making him even more dizzy and miserable.

"Just stay still," the voice warned gently. "You were badly hurt, Legolas."

"N-no," the prince protested, clenching his jaw in determination not to let his voice falter any more. "I woke up, I woke up before. And, and I was fine…" he inhaled shakily and opened his eyes ever so slightly. "What happened after that? I was fine…"

He found himself staring up at Lord Elrond, whose face was concerned. "No, young prince," he assured. "This is the first time you have awoken since the… accident."

Legolas swallowed tiredly and lay still, trying to not think about the searing flashes of pain that kept shooting up his back. "But I remember waking up," he pleaded.

Elrond shook his head. "It was just a hallucination, Legolas. You are very hurt, you will have vivid dreams."

But it felt far too real to be a hallucination, Legolas thought, baffled. Maybe this is the dream, since I don't remember getting hurt. But Valar, dreams don't hurt like this!

"Legolas, can you feel this?" the elven lord asked softly.

Legolas waited, and suddenly felt one of his legs being touched. A cry of surprise and horrible pain escaped him and he felt himself grow hot with humiliation as he panted roughly. He couldn't stand feeling so weak and helpless.

Elrond sighed, but the prince couldn't tell what emotion it contained. He had shut his eyes again and had a death-grip on the sheets.

"I need to move your limbs more, Legolas, I'm sorry. It is going to hurt but it cannot be avoided."

"I'm ready," the younger elf hissed between clenched teeth. His body shook for many minutes as he was surrounded with pain and a veil of darkness. When he realized that it had stopped, he opened his eyes, sweating and trembling.

"What happened to me?" he whispered.

"I need to know what you remember."

Legolas nodded. "I remember riding, and camping. I remember the sky darkening, a storm, and orcs coming… Estel and I left, it was raining, and we came to a cliff…" He cringed and felt his eyes well up with tears. He couldn't continue. He wished he could roll over and avoid the eyes of the Imladris lord. As quietly as possible, he managed, "Estel…he fell."

He noticed a worried expression form on Elrond's face. "Legolas," he said slowly. "That is not what happened. Estel did not fall, you did."

Legolas opened his eyes, breathing quickly as he looked around. He was outside of his room, not at all hurt.

"What happened?" he gasped, panicky.

"Calm down, Legolas," Elrond scolded, kneeling next to him. "You have just collapsed."

Legolas felt both anguish and utter irritation flood through him. "I just saw something," he tried to explain, his voice shaky. "I, I don't know… A dream, I guess, but you were there, and you told me it wasn't a dream. That this, this right now, is a dream, and that I'm actually very hurt and having hallucinations. And that Estel isn't dead, and-"

He stopped breathlessly, seeing in the lord's expression that his words sounded like babble.

"Legolas, it was a dream. I promise you, it was nothing more than a dream."

Indignation struck the prince painfully. "What if it was more?" he whispered.

Elrond looked tired. "You need more rest, Legolas," he said softly, helping the Mirkwood prince to his feet. "Come."

"Where are Elladan and Elrohir?" Legolas asked as they walked into his room.

"I honestly do not know," Elrond responded, looking troubled. "They have been so distant these days…"

"I need to go talk to them." He fled the room, his heart racing and confusion clouding his mind. As he walked quickly outside, a cold rush of wind whipped brutally around him. But it was ignored by the bewildered young elf.

"This doesn't make any sense," He choked out, running a hand hurriedly though his hair. "I don't understand!"

A second later, the pain flooded through him. He swore loudly, almost screaming with aggravation.

"What is happening to me?" he hollered, unbearable stabs of pain hitting his back with every word.

"Calm down, Legolas," Elrond urged gently, telling the prince what he had to do to ease the pain. He explained further what the injury was, mentioning fractured vertebrae, compromising spinal stability, and the impinging of nerves running from the spinal cord. The younger elf was barely listening.

In minutes, everything will change again, he reminded himself. What's the use in paying attention when I'll just be pulled into some other world? Oh Valar, what's happening to me?

"Elrond," he asked suddenly. "If Estel didn't fall, where is he?"

Elrond stopped his instructions and sighed sadly. "When Elladan and Elrohir finished fighting they found you, but Estel was nowhere around. Elladan brought you here and Elrohir kept looking, even after a search party reached the canyon. They have been looking for him ever since. They found his horse, but no trace of him." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "We are all very worried."

Legolas tried a half-hearted smile. "Estel is strong," he said encouragingly. "He'll be alright." His back hurt so badly, though, it was difficult to sound at all convincing.

But then, contradicting his suspicion, everything didn't change within minutes.

Several days passed.

Several extremely painful days passed without any other dreams, leading Legolas to believe that the visions where Estel was dead were just what Elrond had said they were: hallucinations.

Finally, sitting up against some pillows, he told Elrond, "I'd like to go out, my lord. I'd like to get up and start walking again."

The elven lord did not seem surprised. In fact, he smiled slightly, pleased that Legolas had the spirit to leave the room. The prince had healed considerably, but had seemed very silent and distressed during his recovery.

Outside, Legolas sat on a stone bench, stretching his legs out slowly. His back throbbed gallingly, and he shifted often.

Looking around at the nearby woods, he pondered over whether to wander through the trees and gain comfort from their presence, or to find his friends. Gazing longingly at the forest, he chose the latter.

It wasn't long before he spied Elrohir by the stables, brushing his mount's tail less than gently. The animal's ears were flat against its head and the whites of its eyes were showing.

"'Ro, that poor horse won't have any hair by this evening if you keep up like that,"

The elf turned, and the frustrated expression on his young face softened slightly. "Legolas," he smiled, but his grey eyes were pained. "It's good to see you up. I visited a few times, but I've been out a lot, looking…"

Legolas could see how distraught he was, and understood. The twins were very attached to their little brother.

"Where is Elladan?"

Legolas couldn't figure out Elrohir's reaction to his question, it almost looked like abhorrence.

"I don't know," the younger twin practically snapped. He turned back to his horse and began brushing it again, much to the animal's annoyance.

Legolas wasn't even thankful for the lack of pain in his back. He slammed his fist into the ground.

He was almost hysterical with frustration. He couldn't stand much more.

"I don't understand what's happening to me!" he hissed, adrenaline pounding through his body. "Valar, make it stop. Please…"

He looked up to see where he was and frowned. He was outside, and could see one of the twins in the distance. He wasn't brushing his horse, but leaning against one of the rails of the fence. It was the first thing even remotely similar between his two 'dreams'.

Slowly, Legolas made his way over to him.

"Hello, Elrohir," he greeted softly.

Elrohir looked up at him, and the Mirkwood prince did not miss the anger in his face as he forced out in a barely friendly tone, "Legolas…"

Legolas felt the grey eyes piercing him. "How are you?" he managed.

"I'm…" the dark-haired elf hesitated, "…fine."

The prince felt sick. "Elrohir, I am so sorry," he whispered.

Elrohir shook his head. "It is not your fault. There was nothing you could have done."

Legolas wasn't sure if this was real or not. Frankly, he hoped it wasn't. He could feel the fear rising up in him over whether he would ever know. Changing the subject, he inquired "Where is Elladan?"

"I don't know."

Legolas arched an eyebrow in surprise. Either it was just a coincidence, or his two worlds were starting to blend together.

Elrohir continued, his voice distant and sad. "He took what happened to Estel very hard… I did too, of course," he swallowed thickly. "You know that he always feels like he has to watch out for everyone else, and he felt responsible for this. He doesn't say much…but I know he's hurting," as if he couldn't stand to talk about it any further, he turned and left.

Eventually, the prince walked back to his room.

"Legolas? Legolas, what's the matter?"

Elrohir was kneeling next to him, hand on his shoulder.

Legolas shook his head, feeling dizzy. Moving a little, his back protested violently.

"You passed out, just fell to the ground all of a sudden," he looked truly concerned. "You had better get back inside, Legolas, Ada needs to tend to you. You probably shouldn't have been out of bed yet."

"That's not it!" Legolas snapped, but couldn't figure out how to explain himself and felt instantly guilty. He needed to get to his room. He needed to think about things. "Sorry, you're right… I'll be inside." He stood up carefully.

He added, "The search…you haven't found tracks or anything?"

The younger twin shook his head desolately. "Nothing," He whispered. "The rain has washed away any. His horse came back a week ago, along with all of his things. If he is alone somewhere, he has no food or weapons. We can only hope that he found a safe village or group of rangers, and that he is not alone or in otherwise unfavorable company..."

Legolas gave a half-hearted smile. "He is smart, Elrohir, and strong," he assured. "I'm sure he will be fine."

Elrohir didn't even try to return the smile. He looked miserable.

"'Ro," Legolas asked. "Is there something else wrong?"

The Peredhil's brow furrowed. "Something besides Estel being lost?"

"Well, it just seems like there might be something else on your mind…"

Elrohir paused, looking at the ground for several seconds. "This has been very hard on Elladan as well…" he finally said.

Legolas narrowed his eyes. Without anything else to say, he turned to go back inside.

In his room, he sprawled out on his bed. If he lay on his back with a pillow under his knees, it hurt slightly less. The pain it caused him, however, still made it hard to think straight.

He certainly knew which one he wanted to be true. Even though he was hurting horribly, Legolas greatly preferred the prospect that Estel was missing rather than dead.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

"I can't do this… This is insane, I'm going mad."

He rolled over without any pain in his back. He threw one of the pillows into his nightstand and a candle clattered to the floor.

Legolas picked up the candle, then swore and hurled it against the wall.

He tried for a moment, but couldn't even count how many times he'd switched dreams.

"I can't live like this," he whispered, kneeling on the floor and digging the palms of his hands against his face.

"It is not hard to fix, Prince Legolas,"

He stood up quickly, staring suspiciously at the stranger in the doorway. Why hadn't he heard him come in?

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The elf bowed slightly with a gentle smile. "I am Nuialossë, and I know what you are going through. I can help."

Legolas didn't know why, but he felt an instant trusting feeling spread through him.

Nuialossë was dark-haired and didn't look any older than the prince. "I am a healer here," he explained. "And I have seen this before. Grief can be very detrimental to an elf, especially in this situation. You have created a realistic world in your subconscious, one where your friend did not die, where you don't have to feel any guilt. You are unable to leave it."

Legolas didn't like the sound of the so-called-healer's diagnoses. He didn't want to think that what he was currently in was reality.

"How do I stop it?" he asked rhetorically. "What could I do so that I stay in this world?"

Nuialossë smiled calmly. "Simple. You are drawn back to that world because it is perfect to you. It is believable, and for the most part has what you want – the promise of Estel being all right. All you have to do is make that world imperfect, make it such a miserable place that your mind no longer wants to retreat there."

Legolas had to agree that it made sense. "What do I do?"

"Well, what would make you very upset?"

Without thinking, the prince answered truthfully, "If one of my friends were hurt, I suppose."

The healer nodded knowingly. "You would not want to return to a place where your friends were dead, would you?"

Legolas' eyes widened in horror. "What!" he gasped. "I'm not going to kill anyone! I won't murder my friends!"

Nuialossë laughed lightly. "Prince Legolas, they are not real. They are figments of your imagination. You will be helping your real friends if you do this. No longer will Elladan and Elrohir have to worry about your blackouts. You will be doing a great service to everyone, especially yourself. You do not deserve to go through this, my prince."

Legolas shook his head. "How can you prove that this is real? How can you prove that this isn't all in my head, just a dream?"

Nuialossë came closer until his face was only a foot from Legolas'. He placed his hand on the blonde elf's shoulder.

Legolas would have normally shoved him away, so he couldn't figure out why he felt calmed. As if he was an elfling, and his father was soothing him. He had an irrefutable urge to believe Nuialossë.

"Trust me, Legolas. I will keep you safe. I know your reservation. The one thing that is keeping you from going through with this. It is Estel, is it not? You want to cling onto the chance that he is still alive."

"Is that wrong? That I just want an innocent child to be alright?"

"Of course it is not wrong, Legolas, it is completely expected. I am sorry, but you have to remember that Estel is dead. Whether you return to your dreamworld or not, he will still be dead. He is gone, and you cannot bring him back."

Legolas pulled away weakly. "I don't want to believe that. I want to go on thinking that he's all right…"

"But it will not be the truth. Legolas, save yourself from all of this. Help your friends."

"You want me to kill my friends!"

"They're not real. They are just in your head."

"I can't do that to them… Even if they're not real, I couldn't do that."

"It will be all right, my prince. End it quickly, efficiently."

Legolas flinched and felt his stomach turn to ice. He didn't want to, he couldn't…

"Make it fast. Both of the Peredhil twins, and if necessary, Elrond as well. Then, I promise, you will never return to that fake reality."

Numbly, almost involuntarily obedient, Legolas nodded and closed his eyes.

"Lay down, prince Legolas. Close your eyes, go back to that dream. Make it the last time you ever go there."

As he fell asleep, Legolas still couldn't figure out why he was listening to Nuialossë. Why he believed every word he said…

He tested his strength, lifting his white daggers from their sheathes at the foot of his bed, slowly twirling them.

Yes, they would do.

Fast. Efficient. You'll be helping everyone by doing this. Helping everyone. Make it right.

He sighed slowly.

Don't think about them as your friends. They are not real, they are only in your mind. Erase them.

He heard a knocking on his door. "Legolas, may I enter?"

Though the twins' voices were exactly the same, many centuries had taught Legolas how to tell the difference in the tones they used.

He slid his blade into the folds of his robe.

"Come in, Elrohir."