A/N: Happy New Year. 2012; year of the London Olympics and the Queen's diamond jubilee… err, great?

After a while, Thranduil moved back to the bank, wrung out his hair and shrugged on and belted his tunic. As he made to put on his black sash, a scream from the slopes above rang down the valley. Heads turned and Thranduil's blood ran cold; he knew that scream. With sash still in hand, he ran towards the sound, leaving his boots, coat and the basket by the falls.

Legolas ran blindly along the branches down the slope for a while, before reverting to the ground. He caused many minor landslides and slid with the displaced earth. Anxious tears ran unnoticed down his cheeks. He came upon the low path all at once and stumbled to a halt. Stopping to catch his breath, the Elfling looked up and down the path; though saw no one for the trees, so he carried on towards the falls, which were further away than he had thought.

Elladan sat slowly beside his brother and placed a hand on his head. Elrohir's wounded arm was dead to all feeling, so he looked up at his twin in confusion. The knock to his head was dulling any pain that might have reached his brain.

"Where's Legolas going?" He asked, trying to rise but Elladan pushed him down again.

"Best you stay how you are."

"What's wrong?" Elrohir demanded. Elladan tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat and looked straight ahead with wide eyes.

Thranduil was sprinting along the path, his strides lengthening all the while. He weaved in between the Elves he could avoid and ploughed through those he couldn't. One Elf ran out of path and fell over the edge into a briar bush. Thranduil didn't notice to shout his apologies. It took a second or two for him to process the small Elfling running equally quickly towards him. When he realised who it was he swept down and pulled Legolas into his arms.

"Hannon Eru!" He exclaimed as he span slightly, "I thought something had happened to you."

"Not me," Legolas wept, "Elrohir."

"What?" Thranduil asked, breathlessly. Legolas explained what had happened in a wall of noise and, as soon as his father set him down, ran back the way he'd come.

"Tell me what's happened!"

"No, Elrohir, I mustn't." Elladan's helplessness to help Elrohir was driving him to tears but he held them back for his twin's sake. He felt he might burst with the effort.

"I feel lightheaded. Why? What's wrong with me?"

Elladan turned back to his twin at the fear in his voice and saw him blood soaking into the leaf litter.

"It'll be alright."

"What will?"

"Someone will come."

"Elladan, I don't understand!" Elrohir moved his head and for the first time saw the gash on his arm. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Elladan blinked the tears down his face,

"I told you not to look."

"How could you tell me that? How did this happen?" Elrohir's breathing had quickened. Panic was evident in both his expression and his voice.

"Gwanunig, you must calm down."

"I can't. Have you seen my arm? I can't!"

"It'll be better if you calm yourself." He placed a hand on Elrohir's shoulder as he fought to keep his own voice level. "It'll make things easier-"

"Is that bone I can see?" Elrohir whined, "Oh Eru, I'm going to die!"

"Don't say such things!" Elladan snapped, biting his lip, "Of course you aren't going to die!" He willed Legolas to hurry up.

Elrohir tried to look away and found he couldn't take his eyes of the gash and of the sight of his lifeblood fertilising the ground on which he lay.

"Ada, hurry up!"

Legolas pulled harder on his father's arm and Thranduil stumbled up the steep incline, trying to keep up.

"You've lost Legolas, haven't you?" Elrohir said.

"No," Elladan shook his head and wiped away his tears with the pad of his thumb.

"Where is he then?"

"Getting help, like I told you."

"Thranduil's going to kill you."

"No he won't."

"I'll die here."

"Shut up, Elrohir!" Elladan leapt up and rounded on his brother. He stood then, suddenly unable to move, clenching and unclenching his fists is desperation, until rustling reached him and then Legolas and Thranduil immerged behind him.

"Where are you going?" Thranduil snapped, pushing Elladan aside so he could see Elrohir. Like Elladan and Legolas, he took in the gash, the slight head wound and the terrified expression. But unlike Elladan and Legolas he was a veteran and he had seen this dozens upon dozens of times. Before Legolas could sneak past him, he blocked him with his arm. "Take the low path and warn the house."

"But-"

"Go."

Legolas' gaze flicked back to the twins before he turned and left. Thranduil passed his black sash to Elladan. "Bandage or tourniquet his arm, whichever you see fit to do."

Elladan took the sash but made no move. He just blinked at Thranduil.

"Do it now while I distract him, hurry up," the king ordered.

He moved to Elrohir's side and gently eased moved the twin's head so he was looking at Thranduil and away from his wounded arm. The Sinda used his long hand as a further blinker to narrow Elrohir's vision to just Thranduil and the forest behind him.

"Now," Thranduil said, calmly, "I expect you're wondering what all this fuss has been about."

"I see bones." Elrohir stated, emphatically.

"You can see them now?" Thranduil asked, slightly anxiously, wondering whether he should look at the space over his shoulder which so held the younger Elf's attention.

"No," Elrohir exclaimed as though he were talking to an idiot, "I'm not mad. Only madmen see things that aren't there."

Something flickered in the Elvenking's eyes but he kept the rest of his face passive.

"My wound. It's gone down to the bone."

Thranduil smiled quietly and brushed Elrohir's cheek with the thumb of the hand which held his head steady, "I can assure you it hasn't."

"You haven't looked."

Thranduil flicked his gaze back to the wound and, after glaring at Elladan to hurry up, looked back at Elrohir, "Well I have now and there are no bones to be seen."

Elladan bound his twin's arm as quickly and as best he could, but the length of ribbon in the sash was too short and the blood was seeping through the material and staining Elladan's hands already. To secure it in place, Elladan had to tug on it, which caused Elrohir to yelp and whine in pain. His head rolled towards the ground so Thranduil caught it in his free hand.

"Stay awake," he ordered in the reassuring yet firm voice he used to push bills through at council meetings. "Stay awake or you shan't know what we're going to do next."

Elladan rolled Elrohir onto his good side and held his wounded arm slightly up and away from his body as Elrohir murmured, "What are we doing?"

"Well one of us, either Elladan or myself, will carry you back to Imladris and there your father will set you right." As he spoke, he looked at Elladan. He saw how shaken the still relatively young Elf was. There was no way he'd be able to carry his own bleeding twin up the valley, so Thranduil corrected himself. "I'll be carrying you back.

"Help me pick him up, Elladan."

Elladan helped support his twin's weight as Thranduil settled him correctly in his arms and placed the hand of Elrohir's injured arm against Thranduil's shoulder. Elrohir's fingers laced through the fabric and he gripped with what seemed to Elladan to be the last of his strength. Blood ran down to his shoulder, but there was less than there would have been had the wound been below his heart.

"Make sure I don't slip on the damnable slope," was Thranduil's next order. Elladan wasn't too sure how to do this so he walked just in front of Thranduil, holding his arms out like a barrier between his companions and the slope.

The going was painstakingly slow, but eventually they made the relatively level path and there Thranduil sped up. Elrohir could feel Thranduil's dragged left step and muttered a jibe which neither Thranduil nor Elladan heard. Elladan was too preoccupied wondering how Thranduil could carry someone taller and heavier than himself and hoping that the king's strength wouldn't leave him. He had no wish to carry the person he considered an extension of himself in such a helpless state. Thranduil was too busy trying to get to Imladris in time for Elrond to save Elrohir's life. He was almost running, or maybe floating would be a more pat description. He fitted up steps and seemed not to tread on the ground as heavily as someone bearing such a load should. Elves he passed by who would have jumped to help made no move for they could tell that it was in the twin's best interest if Thranduil was left alone. Even so, as they approached the house, they met with a relief party who took the young lord out of the king's arms and onto a litter and bore him away. Elladan followed quickly after them but Thranduil, urgency gone, slowed and finally ambled into the house some minutes after Elrohir had been swept through. He wended his way to the Healing Houses, but, hearing the commotion from within several corridors away, didn't enter but instead slid down a wall and sat there, head in hands, hoping and praying he'd done enough. It was all well and good his bringing Elrohir back but only Elrond and his healers could save him.

A period of time later, Celebrian was sent for and the apprentice healer given the errand passed the king, acknowledging him though he failed to acknowledge her. His head wasn't in his hands anymore but resting against the wall. His eyes stared straight ahead. His hands were in his lap. His right leg was bent but his left was stretched out. She didn't slow but looked back at him before she rounded the corner. A short while later Celebrian hurried into the corridor and Thranduil tucked his left leg somewhat under his chin too so she didn't trip up. Wafts of anxious conversation reached him as the door to the Healing House opened.

Then the door slammed. All was quiet. And stayed quiet for what felt to Thranduil like a long time. He hoped this inactivity meant things were going well on the other side of the wall but he had no way of knowing.

Just as he was thinking about taking a look himself, the young healer returned, this time with a small tray of food. Crackers, cheese and grapes for the most part. She set it down next to him.

"I thought you looked hungry."

Thranduil eyed the food and realised that he was in fact starving. He nodded and thanked her.

"Would you like me to take a look at your feet for you too, herdir?"

Amused despite the situation, Thranduil realised she didn't know who he was. He was in no mind to tell her. "My feet?"

"Yes, they're in quite a state."

"They're just muddy."

"Oh." She didn't look convinced but gave a bobbing nod nonetheless. The noise from the Healing Houses had increased again and she looked towards the doors with some trepidation. "I had better get back to them."

"Is he alright?" Thranduil found himself asking.

"He has a good chance," she said, nervously, "though I'd hate to say for certain he'll pull through only for him to have bad luck."

Thranduil nodded, "I understand. I shan't keep you."

She smiled and returned to her duties. Thranduil began eating the grapes. A short while after that, however, Legolas found him. Erestor had been keeping him out of the way, but as the hours progressed no amount of stories or quiet games could keep the young Elfling's mind from wandering, so a few minutes previously, the advisor had admitted defeat and allowed the prince to go wandering. Thranduil felt a pang of guilt when he saw him; he should have sought him out as soon as he returned to the house but he had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Legolas didn't care about this though. As soon as he saw his father, he ran to him, clambered into his lap, threw his arms around his neck and buried his face in his chest. He felt safe here; safe against the fear which filled him for someone he'd only known just over a week. In that moment he never wanted to leave his father's sight again. Thranduil wrapped his arms around his son and reminded himself that all was not yet lost.

They sat there, on the floor at the side of a corridor, for hours and the world passed them by. They must have both fallen asleep eventually, for when morning broke they found that someone had come along in the grey hours and put a blanket over them. Imladris had been turned upside down and in the commotion no one had had time to wake them and escort them back to their rooms. Legolas was too young to understand the implications of this but it filled his father's heart with dread.

A/N: This was supposed to be the last chapter but it looks as though there's going to be a 6th…