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

A/N: Wow, it's been a long time and I'm really sorry. I got caught up in last minute projects and graduation and then my life went a little insane (involving my father getting laser eye surgery, but he's okay now). But, I've started writing again. Last chapter was weird for me, but slowly this will come together. Last chapter also had NO Thranduil in it, and this one has mostly Thranduil because that was what was coming to me. Oh, and thanks to all my awesome reviewers! Enjoy the chapter and PLEASE review!

Chapter 10

Thranduil mounted his brown stallion with a quick flurry, his robes flowing behind him. Faeron mounted a white mare and nudged her to stand beside the king's mount. Thranduil looked at Arasinya with trust in his eyes.

"Take care of Mirkwood." He requested quietly to his advisor.

"I'll do all in my power to do just that, Milord." Arasinya promised with a sweeping bow.

"I know you will." He smiled, nodding to her.

"With any stroke of luck, we'll return quickly, and safely," Faeron spoke, "And with Prince Legolas."

"May this be true." Arasinya agreed, smiling, "Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle (May thy paths be green and the breeze on thy back)!"

Thranduil nodded as Faeron thanked her swiftly, "Le hannon (Thank you)." Then he added, "Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta (May your ways be green and golden)."

With that, both king and advisor rode out of the clearing that harbored the caves of their people. Thranduil was bent on finding his son, and Faeron was determined to keep his lord alive. Arasinya watched them go until they were out of sight, with a sad smile. Something told her these next days would be harder than any others in her life thus far.

Elladan looked at his father curiously, raising an eyebrow. Elrohir was grinning, thrilled to be at last traveling to Lothlorien without their father, but Elladan was a bit more reluctant. Not to say he wasn't excited to travel; on the contrary, Elladan enjoyed travel quite a bit. But the elder twin had overheard bits and pieces of a conversation between his father and Erestor that had him thinking there could be a larger motive than just he and his brother getting to see their grandparents.

Elladan, granted, hadn't overheard the entire conversation between his father and the dark-haired advisor. But he had distinctly heard the name "Thranduil" and he knew that was Legolas's father. Elladan wanted little more than to know what exactly his father was up to with sending them all- Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, and Glorfindel- to Lothlorien just now.

But, Elladan also knew that the only way to possibly find out now would be to come out and ask. That would get him into trouble for eavesdropping and more likely than not, he wouldn't ever actually be answered. And in addition, there was a chance he wouldn't be allowed to travel with his twin and new friend. So, he held his tongue and let only his excitement at being able to travel again shine through.

Legolas, on the other hand, clearly had no idea why he had been invited to come along as well. But, if the smile that was slowly spreading over his face was anything to go by, he was more than willing to tag along to the forests of Lothlorien. Elladan felt his heart leap in excitement at the thought of this trip.

Elrond was studying them all with an amused grin; he leaned over to Erestor and whispered, "Are you still sure this is a bad idea ?"

"I still have my bad feeling, if that's what you mean." Erestor answered softly.

"As do I." Elrond admitted quietly, "But I'm starting to think more and more it's just nerves."

"Of course it is." Erestor readily agreed, "There's nothing to be worried about, nothing at all. I mean, Glorfindel's going with them."

"Exactly," Elrond nodded with a smile, though he felt as though he were really just trying to convince himself.

Thranduil and Faeron thundered through the woods, bearing for the Old Ford, where they could cross the Anduin and then turn south to Lothlorien. Neither spoke, for speech was unnecessary for now; both knew where they rode for and with what urgency they went. Plus, it would've been difficult to talk while on running horses. Thus, both were left alone in their thoughts.

Thranduil's mind lingered on his son and deceased wife. He missed his wife terribly and grieved hard, but in his grief, he had managed to lash out at his son and cause this whole problem. And then there was his son, little Legolas, who was gone without trace. Thranduil missed the child with all his heart; wanted little more than to find Legolas and explain to his son he never meant for this to happen and that he loved the boy more than anything.

Faeron's thoughts, however, were quite different. They lingered to Lady Arasinya, temporary ruler of Mirkwood. He had spoken to her before, but always briefly. She had always seemed like someone who was simply there and gave the occasional voice of reason and calm during heated situations. Now, he could tell she had leadership and wisdom, but didn't often show them. He had suddenly felt strange in her presence, shy and clumsy. He didn't need to search deeply within his mind and heart to recognize the feeling of love. Faeron's problem lay with the fact he didn't know how deep the attraction ran in his veins, or if it was returned. He hadn't the faintest idea if Thranduil had noticed this yet- and as he was busy with his son's disappearance, rightly of course- Faeron figured he wouldn't get much help from the Woodland King in this matter.

They came to the Old Ford, but, strangely and suddenly, Thranduil halted and dropped to the ground. Faeron too stopped, peering curiously at his long-time friend. Thranduil had wandered a few yards away from the bridge, not following any clear path, but wandering from the river to different places along the shore.

Faeron dismounted and walked over to the river, deciding he was in need of a drink. Cupping his hands, he took a long drink of the cool mountain water, then looked back to find Thranduil staring blankly, as though on verge of figuring something out, at him. Figuring he ought not to disrupt the king's train of thought, he removed his boots and dipped his feet in the river.

Faeron then turned to make sure Thranduil didn't try anything unintelligent. The Elvenking had seemed better these past few days- ever since deciding to find Legolas himself- but with Thranduil, one could never be too careful. But Thranduil showed no signs of any intentions of harming himself, though he did seem to be acting strange, as he was wandering back and forth.

The advisor didn't know what the significance of this spot was to his king, or why he chose to stop here. The sun was not yet setting, nor close to doing so. Suddenly, Thranduil dropped to his knees next to a bramble bush. Faeron, becoming truly worried about his friend and king's sanity, hurried over. Thranduil carefully was working something free.

Pulling his hand back, Thranduil opened it to examine the object. It was a small patch of green cloth, used in tunics. There were faint signs of white hair- that of a horse- on it. Thranduil went completely still, fingering the cloth tenderly.

"He came this way." The Elvenking muttered in surprise, then smiled slowly, "At least we know that much. If we can't find Legolas to the south, we can return to this point and go north."

"Perhaps west wouldn't be wasteful. Elrond's realm lies only just over the High Pass."

Thranduil nodded, "That would be worth checking after Lothlorien."

"Aye," Faeron agreed, "Come; let's travel a few miles more before sunset."

"I'd like to stay longer." Thranduil murmured, "And see if..."

"If you can find anything else," Faeron finished for him, "All right, we can both look."

Pulling his boots back on, Faeron examined the brush around the bramble bush that had harbored the small bit of evidence that Legolas had been here. After satisfying himself that there was nothing further in the area, he turned to find Thranduil kneeling not far from the riverbed, in a place where wild grass had sprung up freely. Thranduil was turning something over in his hands, which made Faeron leap to his feet and run over.

"What is it?" Faeron asked.

Thranduil offered it to him. It was a small piece of worn paper that looked as though it had been ripped or torn off of something larger. Faeron immediately recognized the type of paper: that used to make maps.

"Well, he was paying attention to where he was going." Faeron managed in a half-meant cheery tone.

Thranduil nodded, and a small, sad smile came over his face, "He got this far safely. I pray to the Valar it stayed that way."

Faeron just touched Thranduil's shoulder comfortingly, knowing there was little that he could say that would help the king. Thranduil slowly looked up at his advisor, meeting his friend's eyes before rising.

"I will find him." Thranduil whispered, with a confidence that had been lacking in him for some time.

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