A/N: Sorry this took so long. I've been working on some other stories, about three, to be exact, and I didn't have any time for it. But I had enough time to post this! I'm afraid I won't be able to do responses, because my mother gave me some chores to do today before she came home and she's coming in about one hour. I really appreciate them, though! I'm up to 95! One more and I'm at 100: squee :

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Disclaimer: Not mine! You can search me! I don't have any cards or anything that says I own 'em!

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ch. 12

"Adar, you do not understand—" Legolas began, only to be cut off by his father, who turned his back to him and paced away, to the railing of the balcony.

"I fully understand, Legolas," he retorted hotly. "I understand more than you do, obviously." Legolas shook his head. He had inherited his father's stubbornness, as well as his trait for becoming quick to anger. When the two were against each other in an argument they reached a stalemate that could last for hours until one backed down.

"Ada, you do not know what being here has done for me," Legolas said indignantly.

"It has gotten you attacked by wolves, that is what it has done!" Thranduil replied, his voice risen to near shouting.

"That was no one's fault save my own," Legolas said, his features hardening. He looked remarkably like his father when he became angry, and his relationship to Thranduil was revealed in a near feral frown. "I heard the wolves but did not heed their warning."

"Lord Elrond should have been watching you when you left," Thranduil said. "It was his fault he did not stop you."

"Why would he!" Legolas said, raising his hands palm up as he spoke. "Do not place the blame on Lord Elrond, Adar, if it were not for he I would not have healed."

"He wouldn't have had to heal you if you had not have left, and he could have prevented that!" the king raged. Legolas' blue eyes glinted. Since when was the king this unreasonable?

"Either way, it is past and we should forget it," the prince said, lowering his voice. He did not want others to hear their argument. Thranduil grumbled to himself, and he realized that Legolas was speaking sensibly, yet his stubborn anger could not so easily be placed aside.

"I will not just forget what happened, Legolas!" Thranduil said. "Elrond had responsibility over you."

"And he filled the role in well when I was injured," Legolas retorted, quickly losing his patience on the matter. "He did not leave my side unless he was sure I was well. But this is not what we were talking about, Ada."

"You are right, it is not, so I will repeat what I said almost ten minutes ago. You are returning to Mirkwood with me whether you want to or whether I have to strap you down to your mount."

"Ada, I cannot do that," Legolas said. "I have been healing well in this place. Not just physically, Adar. Elrond's children are now my friends. They have helped me in many ways and their healing is not yet finished." Thranduil didn't know what to make of this mysterious comment, so he chose to ignore it.

"Legolas, you are my son, the prince of Mirkwood," Thranduil said. "You have been gone too long already and the Vénos is fast approaching. You are needed for preparations and for the celebration." Legolas sighed, suddenly remembering the elven holiday. It was considered one of the highest celebrations in Mirkwood, Vénos being the Elvish term for 'continued life.' The king and those of his royal house were always required to be present for the celebrations. Legolas clicked his tongue in agitation.

"That is true Ada, yet might I remind you that the Vénos is not for another week, and I am not necessarily needed for the preparations," the prince said. "I would like to stay here as long as I can before going back to Mirkwood." Thranduil growled in frustration.

"I do not want you staying here, Legolas," he said. Legolas narrowed his eyes, the light blue flashing and resembling daggers in both color and in his glare.

"And why should I comply?" he asked.

"Because I said so," Thranduil replied shortly, obviously thinking the coversation ended at his word. Legolas curled his fists, his ire rising inside of his chest. Of course his father was above him, being king made hardly anyone above you, but Legolas was not used to being so curtly told what to do and being expected to listen. He lifted his chin stubbornly.

"I will return to Mirkwood only after two days have passed," he said in a low voice that held a lethal tone in each syllable. Thranduil felt rage at his son's refusal to listen to his demands.

"Have you heard nothing of what I just said, Legolas?" he asked, his own voice equally menacing. "I said we would be leaving tomorrow at dawn."

"I heard you, Ada," Legolas replied. "But I am leaving in two days. You may leave tomorrow if you wish." He knew he was being disrespectful, but his rage was temporarily over his conscious thought of holding the respecting tone in his voice and words.

"Legolas, I do not want to have to take you out of this place by force," Thranduil hissed angrily. "That will create attention I wish to avoid."

"I would wish to avoid it too, Ada," Legolas said coolly. "That is why I expect you to leave me in peace and allow me to return when I would like to."

"Legolas, I am your father and your king. I expect you to heed my words and listen to them. If I need to have the guards drag you out of here by your pointed ears, then I swear by my own star I will have it done!"

"Then I guess the guards will have to capture me first!" Legolas retorted, the volume of his voice rising along with his father's. "The only way they will disgrace me in such a way is if they either knock me unconscious or kill me, if you so badly want me out of this place!" This had gone beyond a mere argument. It was now a battle of wills, and both were equally strong and matched. Before the tenseness of the situation could grow, Legolas shouldered his way past the elven king and left the room. Thranduil remained on the balcony, staring at the door through which his son had just gone through as if expecting Legolas to return. When the prince did not, he sighed and turned away. He would wait until the both of them were done fuming to consult his son.

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Legolas slung his quiver over his shoulder, as well as his bow. He quickly sheathed his knives and strode swiftly from the entrance hall, stepping out into the light of day. He did not bother going to retrieve Khílya. He simply walked into the forest, knowing that the trees would drag his ire down and help him calm. The ground was still wet and muddy from yesterday's rain and the elf's boots sank partway into the earth as he walked. Not that he noticed. He was too busy still being angry at the recent argument with his father to really care.

Legolas had never commanded the prince that way before. He of course had ordered Legolas to do things against his will in the past, yet not so harshly. Legolas could not leave Rivendell or Elrond's offspring so early. His heart was not fully mended, and ripping Legolas away from the healing abilities they were applying would only send him back to the way he had been before he had come here: stoic, emotionless, empty of merriment or mirth. The last thing Legolas wanted was for his heart to enter that area of pain again.

The prince knew his father was using the upcoming celebrations of Vénos as an excuse to force Legolas to return home with him. The elf prince was two thousand seven hundred and sixty three years old. He was not completely oblivious to his father's schemes. He knew, though, that part of the king's reason was correct. The Vénos was important to the elves of Mirkwood and Legolas had to be present for the celebrations, but he did not necessarily have to leave immediately in order to arrive on time. Thranduil was upset at Elrond's 'lack' of responsibility for caring for the prince and wanted to take Legolas back only for that reason.

Legolas did not agree with that, either. Estel had been hurt both inside and out and needed his family's attention to help. Legolas did not blame Elrond for not sending someone after the prince immediately in Estel's time of need. It was what was expected and perfectly understandable to Legolas. He would not want Estel neglected simply because he had gone missing, especially after what those horrid boys had said to him.

A small cry of pain came from deep inside the woods, reaching Legolas' keen pointed ears. He stopped walking and stood completely still, his head cocked as he listened. There came another desperate shout, and this time Legolas recognized the voice.

"Estel?"

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Estel stepped through the trees cautiously. His mind was slightly troubled. He had heard Legolas and Thranduil arguing in the prince's room, both their voices raised. He could not hear what they had been saying, his ears were not sharp enough for that, but he could tell that both were upset about something. Estel did not like it when others argued; it created a tension that he hated when it was in the air.

Estel lifted a stick and slashed at the grass as he walked. The sunshine streamed through the branches overhead and lit the raindrops still settled on the ground and leaves, making them shine like liquid diamonds. Estel loved nature, he found it intriguing and mystifying at the same time, and he felt at home when he was among it. He entered a clearing and heard a lone bird whistling in a nearby tree, and he stopped to listen. He looked up and saw a yellow bird settled on a nearby branch, its sleek black head raised as it sang. Estel did not know what kind of bird it was, but he smiled as he listened to its trilling song. Suddenly he heard a voice that did not belong to the bird or any part of the forest, one that sent shivers of dread up his spine as he turned to face it.

"Well well, if it isn't elf boy. What's the matter? Did the elves finally kick you out of their city?"

"Leave me alone," Estel muttered, lowering his head. The five large boys entering the clearing laughed. Their leader, Amins, shook his head at Estel's boldness.

"That isn't how you should speak to your superiors, prissy little elf boy," he said. "I thought we taught you that last time. What are you doing out here? Did you finally get rejected by the elves?"

"No," Estel said, lifting his head defiantly. "In fact, they all accept me better now that they heard about you. My sister said she would kill you if she got the chance."

"Ooh, your sister?" Amins laughed, raising his hands in mock fear. "A prissy little elf girl is going to kill me? We'd better leave him alone, guys." They all laughed. Amins leaned forward and shoved Estel back, causing the boy to fall. He stood over Estel and smirked down at him.

"Your time with the elves has only made you weak," the older boy said. "The reason they keep you is only because they pity you. So much that they think of you as a pet, I'll bet. One that scuttles at their feet and does whatever they say. You're pathetic thinking that they really accept you for who you are. I bet—" Amins' words were cut off as Estel swung his legs around, catching the older boy's ankles and sending him crashing to the ground. Amins landed heavily on his side, shocked at how quickly he had been brought down by one so small.

"Get him!" the elder boy shouted angrily, and Estel realized too late his mistake. He had let his rage get ahead of his common sense. The five year old scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but strong hands grasped his arms, jerking him back. One of the boys struck him in the stomach, knocking the air free from Estel's lungs and causing him to fold over. Another hit his cheek. They were all soon beating him, eliciting small cries of pain from him. They threw him onto the ground and he lay motionless.

"You little nift!" Amins raged when they were through beating him. He kicked Estel's ribs sharply. Estel raised his head and spat at the older boy, getting another blow inflicted on him as a result. He cried out louder this time. Amins hauled him to his feet, his hand gripping the thin arm, and glared at him through narrowed eyes.

"The next time you try—"

"Release him," a lethal voice said from behind Estel, and the small boy could have cried with relief.

"Legolas," he gasped. Amins lifted his head and stared at the elf standing at the edge of the trees, his bow nocked and aimed straight at Amins' heart. The elder boy grinned and slightly shook the smaller one in his grasp.

"What's this?" he asked. "Your elf bodyguard?" Legolas' eyes narrowed dangerously and he tightened the bowstring.

"Do not taunt me, young one," he hissed. "Release him." Amins smirked. He was much too bold for his own good and never could see when he was in danger or not.

"Or what? You'll run me through with that stick you're holding? Like that thing could really do anything—"

He jumped and gasped slightly as the arrow was released. Yet instead of plunging into his heart, where it had been originally aimed, it landed at the boy's feet, sinking nearly to the feathered fletchings in the soft ground.

"You'd be surprised," Legolas said menacingly, another arrow already notched on the string. "Now release the boy or the arrow I am holding will pierce your heart." Amins scowled at the elf prince yet complied, eyeing the arrow warily as he threw Estel to the ground. The small boy scrambled to his feet and ducked behind the elf, gazing around the prince's lithe form at the boys that slowly backed away. Legolas lowered his bow and removed the arrow, sticking the bolt back in his quiver and slinging the bow over his shoulder. He knelt down next to Estel, his back to Amins and his companions. As the elf turned away, Amins threw himself at the prince.

"Legolas!" Estel warned, but his friend had heard the boy coming and swiveled on his heels, drawing his knives and grabbing Amins' shoulder at the same time. He placed the cool blade against the boy's throat, beneath the chin. Eyes the color of the knife in his hand glinted fiercely.

"Attacking one whose back is turned is cowardice," he hissed between his teeth. Amins swallowed tightly, his eyes on the knife threatening his life. Estel lowered the weapon. Amins sighed in relief, but it soon turned to a faint cry of pain as Legolas grabbed his wrist and dragged the blade swiftly across the boy's palm. Blood welled from the shallow wound and Amins jerked his hand back, his eyes widened in shock from the sudden and unexpected action. Legolas wiped his knife on the grass and met Amins' gaze coolly with his own.

"Let that be a warning to you," the prince said. "Next time you beat this young boy the mark I will make will be across your throat, not your hand. Now go home and get that wound bound before it becomes infected." Amins nodded dumbly and scrambled back, his hand still clutched to his chest. The boys ran quickly away into the woods. Once he was sure they were gone, Legolas turned back to Estel.

"Did they hurt you badly?" Legolas asked, hooking a finger under the boy's chin and tilting his head to the side to inspect the bruise on his cheek. Estel shook his head his head and smiled.

"Thank you, Legolas," he said excitedly, "He was really scared of you, wasn't he? I'll bet he won't hurt me anymore!"

"That was the point, young one," Legolas smiled gently. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Thanks to you," Estel replied. He threw his arms around Legolas' neck. The prince wrapped his own around Estel's waist, returning the warm embrace. The elf soon pulled the boy away and sat him down on his knee, giving a thorough inspection to make sure Estel was truly as sound as he claimed. Estel sat patiently as Legolas examined him, playing with a lock of the prince's golden hair absently.

"Legolas?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"Are you and your ada mad at each other?" the boy queried softly, looking at the elven prince's face to see what reaction his question would garner. Legolas ceased his movements and inspection and met Estel's gaze.

"Why would you say that?" he whispered, staring steadily into the silver eyes that held his own. Estel was the first to look away. He fiddled with the string on Legolas' tunic.

"Because I heard you yelling at each other," he replied quietly, somewhat reluctant to admit he had overheard them. Legolas sighed and shifted his position, looking at the sodden ground. He had not realized that the argument could have been heard. If Estel had overheard, who else could have?

"He wanted me to return home tomorrow," Legolas whispered quietly, his eyes still fixed on a particularly interesting blade of grass. "He did not want me staying here." Estel's eyes widened and his fist clenched in the folds of the prince's tunic.

"But you cannot leave!" he said fiercely. "You still need to race Elladan, remember?" Legolas chuckled, recalling the bet he had made with the elder twin only a day ago. He shook his head slowly.

"My father is stern," he said. "I have held off his will for now, but he will eventually win either way. I might have to leave tomorrow whether I wish to or not." Estel shook his head, inching closer to the elf that had become his friend. Tears misted in his large eyes as he considered the idea of having to say goodbye to the prince.

"But I do not want you to leave, Legolas," he whispered. "You cannot leave." Legolas smiled faintly and returned his gaze to the boy's. He felt his throat constrict when he saw the tears glistening in their silver depths.

"I don't want to leave either, Estel," he said slowly, fighting to keep the emotion swirling inside of his chest out of his voice to remain positive for the distraught boy. It did not help, for his small friend began to weep openly, shaking his head. A tear slid from Legolas' light blue eye, trailing unnoticed down his cheek. He reached up and gently brushed the tears from Estel's cheek and forced a small smile.

"Estel, even though I may leave, it will only be better the next time we meet," he whispered. "There is no such thing as goodbye for two friends bound as one, for they will always be together in their hearts." Estel wrapped his arms around the elf's neck and buried his face into Legolas' shoulder, his own shaking with each small sob. The prince held him in a comforting embrace, realizing how attached he had become to the small boy. He had not expected meeting Estel when he came to Rivendell; he had not even expected having the hurts of his heart mended.

"But…but Legolas…" Estel whimpered, raising his head to meet the elf's gaze. He could not finish his sentence, for he did not know what to finish it with. Legolas brushed the tears from his friend's face gently. He cupped Estel's cheek in his slender hand, forcing the boy to meet his gaze.

"We cannot delay our separation," the prince whispered, "but we can at least enjoy our time together until the moment comes when I must leave. Come, young one, what do you want to do with me today?" Estel sniffled and looked at the trees around them, pondering the question.

"I want to explore the woods with you," he said, looking back at his elven companion. Legolas smiled and lifted the young boy off his knee, straightening gracefully to his full height. Estel slid his hand into Legolas' long fingers, as he had done on their first walk, and led him north. The two friends created their own path through the forest.

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"This one, Legolas, this one!" Estel cried, jumping up and down excitedly and pointing at the gigantic pine in front of him. The prince made his way to the top of the slope and gazed up at the tall tree, shading his eyes with one hand.

"This one?" he asked. "Are you sure? It will take us years to get to the top!"

"As long as we get there!" Estel laughed, prancing to the trunk and looking at the lowest branch almost three feet above his head. He glanced back at Legolas, his gaze asking for assistance. The elf laughed and stepped under the shade of the tree's branches.

"Coming, coming," he said merrily, removing his weapons and lifting the boy onto his back. Estel wrapped his arms tightly around Legolas' neck as his legs clung around the prince's waist, much like an infant monkey would cling to its mother.

"Ready?" Legolas asked, poising to jump into the tree.

"Ready!" Estel replied, tightening his hold. The elf leaped nimbly into the air, grabbing the thick branch in his hands and swinging for a moment before hoisting himself up. He paused for a second on the lowest branch, pressing his palms against the trunk. Estel waited patiently as the elven prince closed his eyes. They had gone through this almost a dozen times throughout the day, for they had climbed many trees. In between tree climbing they simply poked through the woods, finding new things and meeting new creatures. Estel, accompanied by his elven friend, had even spent some time with a doe and her newborn fawn, watching the baby deer as it stood on unsteady legs, its mother prodding it gently to help. The creatures had been at ease around their viewers, for Legolas had assured the doe in Elvish that she and her offspring would come to no harm around the two friends. Estel was even able to play with the infant deer placidly as its mother watched carefully and spent some time with the elf prince.

Estel's thoughts were interrupted as Legolas jumped into the next branch.

"It says we can climb?" the boy asked. The elf lifted them onto the branch he had been hanging onto and nodded.

"It welcomes us gladly."

"Good."

Estel fell silent as Legolas bounded onto the next limb effortlessly, as if the boy upon his back weighed nothing at all. Even after all the other times they had gone through this, the boy was still amazed at how easily the prince maneuvered through the trees. He glanced at the ground, which was steadily dropping lower and lower. He looked back up at the many branches crisscrossing above their heads.

When the two reached the last sturdy limb closest to the top, Legolas crouched down and let the boy carefully slide from his back. Estel sat down on a branch next to Legolas', his back to the trunk. The elf sat down as well, gazing out at the magnificent view of the forest. This tree was perched at the top of a tall slope and the woods were spread out beneath it. Estel swung his legs and pointed out across the forest.

"Look! There's my house," he said. Sure enough, the tip of a white building was just visible above the vast green sea of trees. Legolas smiled and nodded.

"I bet we'd even be able to see my house from up here," he said jokingly. Estel grinned and a comfortable silence fell between the two of them. They both knew that there need not be words to enjoy each other's company. They sat still in the branches of the large pine for nearly an hour, watching as the sky began to darken and the stars appear. They were even joined by a small family of squirrels who skittered down the trunk. An infant squirrel fell into Estel's lap and its family chattered for it to return to them. Five of the small creatures scattered over the boy and the elf, inspecting the new beings that had come to their tree so suddenly before scampering off again. Soon Legolas sat up and allowed Estel to climb onto his back again, and they began to descend from the tree.

Just as Legolas hit the ground in a crouch, a powerful sense of evil hit his awareness. He let Estel get off his back, but cautioned the boy to be silent and stay in the shadow of the tree. Estel nodded and pressed his back against the trunk of the tree as Legolas crept forward, his keen elven senses alert and probing the darkness for the threat he knew was there. He drew his bow and nocked an arrow silently. He stepped into the neighboring trees, leaving Estel beneath the large pine they had climbed. His boots barely made any impression on the soft carpet of pines nor any noise as he searched the shadows. Just as he took another step, the evil grew and an overwhelming stench hit his nose. He struggled not to cough and covered his nose and mouth with his hand, his eyes watering as the smell brought back evil memories of the darkened night, the hoard of immoral, hateful creatures and the one that raised the dagger…

Legolas spun around, going to warn Estel of the danger and take the boy out of harm's way, but a sound filtered through the darkened air and froze his heart.

"Legolas! Help!"

"Silence, maggot!" There came the sound of an armored hand grating against skin, and a pained cry. Legolas raced back through the woods to see a group of orcs surrounding Estel, arguing on what to do with him.

"I say we eat him!"

"He's a good specimen! I say we keep him as a slave. Look at him! He's still young; he can serve us for years!"

"But I'm hungry!"

"We'll talk to Raznul about that."

"Yes, Raznul will know what to do!"

"Slap him in chains!"

The orcs lifted Estel by his arms and seized his wrists, forcefully attaching heavy shackles to his thin limbs. They weighed him down when the evil creatures released the boy, nearly bringing him to his knees, which made his captors laugh cruelly and shove him to the ground. The young one landed hard on his chin, clicking his teeth together, through which a faint cry escaped. Legolas felt his rage burning higher and quickly pulled back the string of his bow, aiming at one of the orcs.

The dark creatures heard the sound of a sharp twang, but did not realize what it was before one of them fell dead with a gurgle, an arrow protruding from the back of its throat and piercing clean through to the other side. The orcs roared with rage, drawing their blades and raising them threateningly, gazing warily into the shadows. Another fell at the sound of the elven bow, a bolt plunged into its chest.

The orcs were starting to fear the shadows, wondering where the arrows were coming from and by whose hand. They shrieked as Legolas stepped out to meet them, raising his bow and aiming at the brow of one of the monsters. That one fell, its last view of the deadly point of an arrowhead. The elf began releasing arrows in rapid succession, many of the army falling dead. The hoard of orcs bounded forward, raising their weapons and screeching in the dark language. Legolas' firing faltered as the cursed dialect grated harshly upon his sensitive ears, seeming to do him physical harm. Within those moments of distraction for the elf prince the orcs managed to come within swinging distance of their weapons.

His bow no more use at such close range, Legolas drew his twin blades, parrying the shots at his chest and neck and stabbing any of the unfortunate creatures that came too close for his comfort. The number of orcs was dwindling visibly as they fought the elf. Legolas used all of the grace and speed his heritage had granted him and every battle skill that he possessed in his lithe frame to fend off the evil beings. Even as he brought down one orc after another, there still were too many for him to handle, and he had to stay constantly alert so as not to have one slip underneath his guard.

Legolas cried out in shock and pain as metal links were dragged across his slim shoulders, the force of the blow bringing him to his knees. The orc behind him swung the chain he held proudly and a gurgling laugh emitted from his throat, which was soon stabbed through with one of the elf's knives. As the wounded prince dealt with the orc that had injured him, another stepped forward and whacked the handle of its ax hard against the back of Legolas' skull.

"No!" Estel cried, rising to his knees despite the heavy weight of the chains around his wrists. "Legolas!"

The elf collapsed limply to the ground, unconscious. The orcs laughed and all began speaking in the dark language at the same time, obviously expressing their ideas on what to do with the elf for how they pointed dispassionately at the unmoving figure at their feet. Soon one shouted in the common dialect, much louder than the others:

"Let's just put him in chains with the human! It's not every day you get an elf to play with." Estel could only watch helplessly as his friend was put into shackles much like the boy's, with chains too heavy for any living being to bear. The orcs stripped him of his weapons, snarling in disgust as they lifted the elf up and dragged him over to throw him uncaringly down onto the ground next to Estel. Two guards were posted to watch over the prisoners while the rest went off to rest.

Estel, watched by the orc guards, crawled slowly over to Legolas' limp form, the chains he was bound to chinking loudly in the oncoming darkness and trailing after him. The boy carefully turned the elven prince over onto his back. Legolas' eyes were closed and he did not respond to Estel's stumbling Elvish. The boy was utterly helpless without his friend there to protect him and he felt very afraid surrounded by the orcs with none to comfort him. He had to settle for curling up in Legolas' limp arms, his head resting over his friend's heart to be assured that it still beat strongly. A few tears fell from his eyes and sank into the dark green fabric of Legolas' tunic.

Before Estel fell into a light sleep, he wondered if his elven family would ever know what happened to them.

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Whoo! I hope that was long enough for ya! It seems our boys have gotten into trouble, hm? Uh-oh. Reviews, pwease!