Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Lord of the Rings.

A/N: Okay, it's been a hectic week, and I had to actually write this over the course of five days of homework, finals, and a bunch of other annoying stuff (*cough* media project *cough*). So, I'll apologize right now if this chapter has a few mistakes, I can't edit like I usually do. It's the longest yet though, and how that happened, I don't know. But I'm out of prewritten chapters, and, if school continues like this for the remaining week and two days, I may or may not be able to write the next chapter. But reviews never hurt… (hint, hint) I also at last know exactly where I'm going with this beyond a vague idea, which is good! I noticed a recurring note/theme to the reviews, and, shockingly enough, it filled one of the gaps I had PERFECTLY. So, thanks to everybody who reviewed, and hopefully I'll be able to update soon!

Chapter 8

Glorfindel looked across at Elrond, who was lost in some deep thought. Erestor suddenly swept in, a smile on his face as he greeted his two friends and sat down. Elrond looked up and regarded Erestor carefully, wondering what could've brought on a good mood, as he had been tutoring the twins, which usually left him rather tired and annoyed.

Glorfindel, who also noticed this, was the one to voice the question, "What made you so happy, Erestor?"

Erestor grinned, "I do believe I just had the best class that I've ever taught."

"Did the twins pay attention?" Glorfindel asked, incredulous.

"No, Elrohir was asleep the whole time, and Elladan listened only at certain points. But Legolas," Erestor smiled fondly, "He was not only listening, but engaged. I'm considering asking Thranduil for a job if all Sinda elflings are like that!"

Glorfindel laughed, "Ah, so that's what it is! Legolas certainly comes off in a different way than the twins."

Elrond nodded, eyes clouded into thought again. Erestor looked quizzically to Glorfindel, who shrugged in response.

"He's been doing that all morning." Glorfindel informed Erestor.

"Well, Elrond, something's eating at you!" Erestor pointed out in a gentle voice, "Are you going to tell us?"

Elrond glanced up; then sighed softly, "I've been thinking,"

"Thinking about what?" Erestor asked before Glorfindel could put in a comment.

"Thranduil," Came the answer, "I can't help thinking I should tell him his son is safe."

Glorfindel's eyes lit with understanding, "You think he regrets… whatever it was that happened?"

"I know that often a single side to a story is not fully correct." Elrond answered, "And I cannot help but think whatever occurred that caused Legolas's plight was no more than the result of exhaustion, a misunderstanding, and the heat of the argument. I knew Thranduil long ago, and I don't believe he would purposely hurt a child. And if it was a mistake and misunderstanding, I cannot even begin to imagine how he must feel now!"

Erestor nodded, "But at the same time, do we trust Legolas enough to take his word that he's better off here? He's becoming quite fond of this place, and if we told Thranduil his son was here, don't you think the Elvenking would come to get him? If Legolas truly doesn't want to be found, which I assume he does not, then he may feel… betrayed and angry. What's to stop him from running off from Thranduil again in that case? It really comes down to who we trust more, Legolas or Elrond's memories of Thranduil. And I'm not leaning to a side, as Legolas is still a child and can misinterpret despite his knowledge and we know not if Thranduil remained the same over the years."

Glorfindel looked first at Erestor; then Elrond, "There's no easy answer to this. Though, if it is the matter of Thranduil changing, I do not believe he has changed all that much. Though, as Elrond remembers him best from the years before the Last Alliance, he has become colder to most, and cherishes little, but over my visits I had come to know that Legolas and Thranduil were quite close. But then, my last visit was just after Queen Erewren died, and I know not how deeply that affected Thranduil. Perhaps we just write to the king, saying we heard his son had left and see how he responds?"

"How would we explain how we knew?" Erestor inquired, "Besides Legolas's arrival, no one has come this way looking for him or even bringing word from his father."

Elrond nodded, "That is a point I've been trying to figure out for some time, and I think I have the answer. You remember, long ago, Thranduil and I were good friends. But ever since the Last Alliance, we've been distant and nearly cold to each other, no doubt he silently blames me for the death of his father as I, though I shamefully admit it; blame him for Gil-Galad's death. What really happened, is, I see now, that neither of us had a hand in any of it really, yet we were so quick to judge the other on the actions of the father. But, in any rate, I should think Thranduil didn't tell Legolas much about me, and was unaware that Erewren, his wife and one of my closest friends in Mirkwood besides Thranduil, did tell the child of Ilmadris. Thus, he would be led to believe Legolas wouldn't flee here, but more likely Lorien or even Rohan and Gondor. No doubt eventually he'll find it worthwhile to send someone here, but when is key to the whole thing."

There was a long pause, broken by Glorfindel, "There's a better solution than you are seeing, Milord, and it is now painfully obvious to me."

"Then speak it, mellon nin!"

"It's easy really," Glorfindel said, a slow smile coming over his face, "Thranduil, upon finding his son gone, would've sent out men immediately to find him. They would've already been to Gondor, Rohan, and Lorien and returned if I know the scouts of Mirkwood. Upon hearing this, the king will begin to worry even more; want to go himself. He'll do what he can to tide his kingdom over in his absence and ride forth himself to look for his son. He will stop first in Lorien, as it is most sensible Legolas would flee there."

"So?" Elrond inquired; confusion in his eyes.

"So, send the twins to see their grandparents in Lorien and have Legolas join them! With any luck at all, we'll be able to overtake Thranduil and once they find one another, I have a feeling the whole thing will just fall into place. Legolas will think it was a coincidence and Thranduil will be none the wiser than his son on that. At least then we won't have fully betrayed either." Glorfindel answered.

"The twins are too young to travel such distances alone, and there is a large stack of paperwork on my desk that says I'm not able to leave." Elrond said, thoughtfully, "Unless you would be willing to go, Glorfindel?"

Glorfindel nodded, "Aye, I could use some time off, if you can call it that. It would be good to see Galadriel, Celeborn, and Haldir again."

Elrond nodded, "Let it be so, then. Take the prince to Lorien, and let us hope you meet his father and this whole mess is resolved."

Faeron fought back the sudden urge to groan aloud. Thranduil was beside him, absently half-listening to the heated debate going on. He was mostly focused on trying to read over a bit of paperwork. The rest of the advisors were screaming back and forth at one another. What had started as a simple meeting had turned into a free-for-all yelling contest. From what little Faeron could catch, they were arguing on whether or not to ask for aid in fighting the spiders and Orcs that were becoming more and more common.

"Well, the prince was taken by something wasn't he? And he was turning into a fine young warrior! Would you really let that go without challenge?"

Thranduil's head shot up and he said firmly in his most dignified voice, "My son is not dead!"

An eerie silence fell over the room at the sudden outburst. They all exchanged uneasy glances with each other, all afraid to speak.

"Milord," One finally spoke in an almost soothing voice, "Nothing is certain just yet. Surely if he were capable, Prince Legolas would've returned by now."

"Not...necessarily." Thranduil contradicted in a pained voice.

"Young Legolas may have felt as though he needed to get away for a while." Faeron rescued the king from having to tell the others about the argument between father and son.

One of the fiercer and hot-tempered Lords, Urúvion, spoke, "You mean to say he ran away like an elfling?"

Faeron let his eyes flash dangerously, but it was Thranduil who shouted, "He is not an elfling! He is your prince and you ought to speak of him thus!"

Urúvion frowned, "Very well. Why would the Prince feel he needs to get away? Never before has he expressed a desire to leave!"

Thranduil's face drained of color a little more and his head shot to look at Faeron. Faeron gave a helpless shrug, giving his king a little nod to tell him that it was his choice on how to go about this.

After a moment, Thranduil answered, "Because he may have felt he wasn't wanted."

This sent most the Lords into a flurry. They were all rather fond of, or at least didn't mind, their prince. Thus, they immediately began to try to figure out how the boy could've felt that way.

The Elvenking's pained voice stopped them from beginning another loud argument, "It wasn't due to any of you. The blame for Legolas's feelings can lie nowhere but with me."

This was met with complete silence, broken by the single female advisor under Thranduil, Arasinya, who was usually very quiet, "Y-You argued, Milord?"

Thranduil gave a nod, closing his eyes. Arasinya looked down for a moment, as though waiting for someone to speak.

When no one did, she murmured, "That explains how distant you've been these last days, Milord, I was… wondering." She looked up at last and said in a stronger voice, "You are going to look for him yourself, I'll take it?"

Her question was met with another nod, "Yes. I must find him, if for nothing else than to know he is safe."

She nodded slightly, "Shouldn't you send a messenger to Ilmadris, Milord? I am aware you are not on the best of terms with Elrond Half-Elven, but surely we should at least tell them to look for your son?"

Thranduil looked up, meeting her eyes, "I do believe that was the best piece of advice I've heard this entire time!"

Arasinya's cheeks flushed with color, "T-Thank you, Milord."

Faeron stood, "Then that's that. We can continue the debate another time."

No one objected and they quickly left. Arasinya hesitated, but then grabbed her cloak and would've followed.

But Thranduil's voice stopped her, "Please stay a moment."

Faeron saw the flash of fear in her eyes before she could hide it, but obligingly turned around to face her king, "Milord?"

"Arasinya, you know my son?"

"I know Prince Legolas well. He is no stranger to me or my company. In the days after his mother's death I stole many afternoons to give him someone to talk to. Even after that, I did my best to eat at the same time as he and listen to him when he just needed to vent his frustration." Arasinya answered, a certain confidence in her voice.

Thranduil blinked in surprise at this information, but, figuring there was probably a lot about his son he didn't know, dismissed it, "Yes, well, while I'm gone, someone must govern over this realm, and Faeron shall come with me, with or without my permission."

The elleth realized what he was asking and her eyes widened, "Me, Lord? Are you certain?

"Yes, you are one of the few that has an open mind to subjects. I trust you in this matter."

"I am… honored, Milord."

"Will you accept?"

Faeron looked to the slim figure with the faint gleam of hope in his eyes. He knew she would rule as alike to Thranduil as she could. She met his eyes with a confidence he had never seen in her before.

"I will, Milord."

"Excellent." A smile came over Thranduil's face.

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