Disclaimer: Don't own any characters or places.

Author's Note: Special thanks to my awesome reviewers: thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll be trying to update every week on Friday. I figure I can juggle that between my school work, sleeping, eating, and any trips I take.

Chapter 2

Legolas leaned against a tree in a small clearing, looking down at the map he'd brought. Silverwish tossed his head, trotting over beside Legolas.

The prince muttered aloud, "We should continue southeast, past the northern stretch of the Anduin, and take the High Pass over the Misty Mountains. We then head a little bit south and then east until we hit the Loudmouth River, and if that isn't in the valley, we simply go north until we find the valley that harbors Rivendell."

Silverwish whinnied as though agreeing with him. Legolas smiled, fondly stroking the stallion's mane. The young prince then stood, retrieving his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

"We should get moving." Legolas whispered, looking around, "Just in case,"

Silverwish tossed his head in agreement, eager to be off. Legolas mounted, but, before urging Silverwish onward, he closed his eyes, savoring the sound and smells of the forest. Biding goodbye to the trees, he leaned forward and motioned to Silverwish to go on. The stallion hesitated for only a second, realizing this may be the last time he saw the trees of Mirkwood. Then, determined to bare his rider where ever the youth wanted to go, Silverwish bolted away, toward the Old Ford, a crossing of the Anduin river.

Legolas rode well, attentive and quick to guide Silverwish away from any possible danger. By the time the sun was at its peak in the sky, the two companions were thundering along the Old Forest Road toward the Anduin, hoping to cross the river the following day.

Thranduil hurried through the hallways. He had meant to go to his son the previous night, but had gotten caught up in a mass of paperwork, and postponed going to him until morning. But then, one of his councilors had needed to speak with him on an urgent matter. Sighing, Thranduil stopped at Legolas's door, taking a deep breath.

"Legolas?" He called softly, knocking on the door, but there was no answer, so Thranduil opened the door a crack and called again, "Ion nin (My son)?"

When no answer came, Thranduil opened the door fully to find an empty room. The bed wasn't slept in, and it seemed as though no one had been here for at least twelve hours. Frantic now, Thranduil hastily checked around the room, praying to find his son huddled in a corner or under the bed. Instead, he found that Legolas's best bow, his twin long knives, his traveling cloak, and his bag were missing.

Thranduil sank down on the bed, eyes full of disbelief. Legolas was gone, and Thranduil had no idea how long he had been gone, where he was headed, or if he was in a dangerous state of mind when he left. Covering his eyes with his hands, the Elvenking wept.

It was there that one of his oldest friends and most trusted advisors, Faeron, found him nearly forty minutes later. Faeron didn't know what had happened, but he closed the door and sat down next to the king and put an arm around him.

"M'lord, what troubles you?" Faeron asked gently.

Thranduil looked up, "M-My son… he's gone!"

Faeron sighed quietly, he should've known. The advisor had heard Thranduil and Legolas's argument, not clearly, but he knew they were both angry. Legolas had been stressed lately over the tensions between himself and his father, and this argument had probably snapped the young elf's temper. Knowing Legolas, he had snuck out last night and slept with the trees again, to feel safe.

"I'll ask the guards if he's left." Faeron promised, "and if so, when and with what."

Thranduil nodded, "Thank you,"

Faeron laid a hand on the king's back before slipping out of the room and calling a messenger to him and telling him what to ask the guards at the gate. The elf nodded and ran off swiftly. Satisfied, Faeron went back to the king.

His friend had closed his eyes, breathing hard. Faeron again dropped beside him, reassuringly placing an arm around the king.

"He'll be all right, M'lord." Faeron promised gently.

Thranduil quivered, frightened. Faeron had known the Elvenking through many dangers, and if there was one thing the King of Mirkwood was not, it was cowardly. But Faeron understood his friend's fears. Mirkwood was riddled with spiders and Orcs these days, most of which could kill a lone traveler. But deep down, Faeron doubted any of them would be about to catch, let alone kill, the swift, smart, and strong prince. Legolas wasn't an elfling any longer, despite what Thranduil might like to believe at the moment, he was quickly becoming one of Mirkwood's best warriors. But that wouldn't comfort the king much, so Faeron kept his thoughts to himself.

One of the gate's guards hurried in, "I heard you wanted the Prince's location."

Faeron stood, "Do you know where he is?"

The man shook his head, "Nay, I'm sorry. But I do know he left yesterday morning on Silverwish, carrying a bag with provisions, of what amount I know not, his bow, a quiver of arrows, and his long knives. He looked quite determined to do something; we thought he was on orders."

Faeron looked down, nodding slowly, "It's not your fault. Prince Legolas has been known to fake out even the best of us. He's clever in that way, especially when he wants to be. You have no idea where he was headed?"

The guard shook his head, "All I know is he set off north, but knowing the Prince, he is probably headed any direction other than North."

Faeron nodded, "It's a strong possibility. How big was his bag? Could you tell how long he packed for?"

The guard thought, "Well, I figure he'd have had lembas, and mattering on how much he ate before, that could last anywhere from a day or two to several weeks. I saw the bulge of a water pouch for sure, but should he stay near the Forest River, the Enchanted River, or make for the Anduin, he would have access to plenty of water. I'm pretty sure he had a change of clothes. Ah, and there was a kind of lump folded up paper makes sometimes."

Thranduil went pale, dashing into his son's closet and throwing open a small cabinet, scrambling for something, "The map," He whispered softly, "The map of Middle Earth you gave him last year, Faeron, its gone too."

The guard nodded slowly, "A map would be about the right size."

Thranduil sank back onto the bed, shaking slightly. Faeron nodded, and spoke softly to the elf, "Thank you for your help. Tell me if you see him."

"I will." The guard promised, before turning and hurrying away.

"Don't worry, mellon nin (my friend)," Faeron whispered, "We'll find him. He can't have gone far."

Thranduil sighed sadly, "But he could've gone in any which direction."

"Think, M'lord. What tales of distant lands does he know best?"

"H-He enjoyed stories of the Last Allience." The Elvenking whispered.

Even Faeron paled, "I don't think he would go to Mordor."

Nodding, Thranduil continued, "There was one about Gondor, one or two about Rohan, and several about Lothlorien he particularly liked."

"There were none about the land of Imladris and Lord Elrond?"

Thranduil shook his head, "Nay, I told him but one of Lord Elrond, and he never asked to hear it again."

Faeron nodded slowly, "I think Lothlorien and the woods between would be a good starting point. March Warden Haldir has come and visited Legolas several times."

Thranduil looked up, "Yes, it's worth a try.

Legolas cupped a bit of the running water with his hands, raising it to take a drink. Silverwish was a little ways off, drinking the water quickly. Legolas looked into the horizon, seeing the peaks of the Misty Mountains before him. He sighed, smiling grimly at the thought of passing over those peaks. But then, others had done it.

"We'll stay here for the night." Legolas muttered aloud, "Then go on to the High Pass tomorrow, hopefully we'll get halfway up. Then, we have the next day to go the rest of the way through the pass. And on the day after, should our luck hold, we'll reach Imladris."

Silverwish trotted over, snorting his consent as he too glanced at the peaks rising before them. Legolas looked at the mountains longingly, he was ready to leave Mirkwood, which he would tomorrow morning, the moment he rode over the stone bridge and raced toward the mountains. He found himself wondering if his father even knew he was gone yet.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he lay down, glancing upwards at the shining stars that lit up the night sky above. He smiled and began uttering the names of the constellations, smiling slightly.

Resting his head in his hands, he began to hum a song his mother had sung to him on more than one occasion, usually when he was scared, or upset, or feeling alone. In truth, he was a little of all three at that moment. He had no real idea what he was doing, but he didn't want to go home to his father. And yet he felt very alone.

The wind whistled through the grasslands, and Legolas smiled sleepily. He had Silverwish, and this loneliness would hopefully only last until he arrived in Rivendell. His mother had always told him of Lord Elrond's kindness and compassion; that, should true trouble ever arise, she and Legolas would be welcome in Elrond's House. She had told him the Lord had told her that himself, and promised to be there, for whatever reason. Legolas stared up at the stars, rethinking his mother's tales, and his eyes glazed over in elfish sleep.