Chapter one

The elf slipped into the small chamber adjacent to the healing ward, silent as a wraith on his bare feet. The healer looked up, her pretty face lighting up with a small smile as she recognised the figure. Without another word, she got up and left.

Doron sat heavily on the chair the elleth had just vacated, looking upon the small body tucked neatly underneath the heavy quilt. The years imprisoned had taken their toll on Legolas, the elfling's growth having been stunted by the lack of light and malnutrition. Various wounds had been discovered by the healers, varying from relatively harmless to critical, like the burned hand and slit throat the child had suffered during the assault on Dol Guldur. All had been cleaned and bathed, the healers working deep into the night to save the little ones life.

And yet he would not wake up…

The Healers called it a coma, Doron called it a curse. Oh how he wished his little brother to open his eyes! How he longed to find out what damage had been done to that mind so that he could do his best to heal it. The Healers told him to wait, that it took time for a coma to lift, but it would speed progress mightily if Legolas's loved ones took the time to visit him everyday and talk.

At first Doron had felt stupid talking to an elf who could not respond, but soon he had grown used to it. If he was completely honest with himself, Doron found these conversations with his silent brother to be soothing, a way of escaping from his Adar and Edwen Nanneth [second mother]. He hated their happiness as it seemed like a betrayal to his beloved Nana. But most of all he hated that his Adar was in denial, he did not even go to visit his youngest son, leaving Doron and Legolas alone and favouring his new women and unborn child.

Oh how Doron wished Legolas would awaken! So he could tell his little brother how much he had missed his tiny shadow.

"Mae govvanon bratling", Doron said cheerfully, enclosing one pale and lifeless hand in his warm one. "You will never guess what happened today! As usual Adar made me attend a dull counsel meeting in his own stead while he picnicked with Vanriel. But of course that's not the exciting part! The excitement came later after the council adjourned and I went swimming in the river. The water was so cool and refreshing, and I can't wait till you wake up so I can take you there myself. It is beautiful, little leaf, you will love it. I dived under the surface of the water and lo and behold I found this". Doron extracted a water smooth pebble from his pocket with a flourish. The stone was circular and black, but when he held it up to the light oh how it shone. Red, blue, white and pale gold. No trace of the black to be found. It could indeed rival the pretty crystal that hung around Legola's neck in the small pouch made of interwoven hair.

Doron placed the stone in his brother's palm, closing the unresponsive fingers around it and placing the hand atop the small chest. He then stood up and leant over his brother, kissing the pale forehead before straightening. "Happy Begetting day my brother. Methinks you forgot, but I assure you that I had not. Sleep well dear one and rest assured that I love you".

And with a parting glance, Doron left the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

On the bed, Legolas's forehead creased as he battled his own mind and the walls he had built around it.

Let me out! He yelled, or would have had he been in control of his facilities. But the walls refused to crumble and with a yell of rage, Legolas hurled himself at the wall, only to rebound.

He had to get to Doron, he had to meet his brother.

Let me go, damn you! He snarled at the impenetrable walls that he himself had created in the throes of agony. This Coma was his creation, his protection against the torture. But now he was out, and he wanted out. Now, this instance.

No… a whisper, a fragment of a dream answered his demands. The grey walls rippled, as if they were a pond and a stone had disturbed their surface, and out stepped…Legolas.

Except this Legolas was a not Legolas, bowed and stooped by the pain that twisted his features and marred his flesh. This was the Legolas of the body, not Legolas himself. Legolas of the soul was, in comparison, a glowing paragon of health. His skin was unmarred save a light bruise near his temple and the sickly pallor of his skin. If he were to walk out now no one would guess of his hardships, that is until they saw his snow coloured hair. The hair was a give away.

Both Legolas's glared at each other.

Let me out! Cried the soul

I cannot, you are safe here…outside is unsafe. You go out you will be hurt…like me. Came the answer and to the souls horror, the body spoke in bastardised elvish mixed with the black speech.

The soul gasped at his twisted body and fled, running through the narrow alleys of the city his mind had conjured up and past windowless houses. The soul pushed past gaping phantoms of his mind as he tried to escape…

"Happy Begetting day my brother. Methinks you forgot, but I assure you that I had not. Sleep well dear one and rest assured that I love you".

These words penetrated the thick walls, making the soul gasp and stumble in shock. Doron! Doron was speaking to him. He was not alone!

I love you Doron had said and the soul could tell that he had meant it.

I love you

The soul squared his shoulders and ran back to his dreadful body, Doron's loving words echoing in this grey land and pushing the phantoms away.

I love you

Im coming Doron, the soul vowed determinedly, and my body had better watch out for I shall not take no for an answer. Those walls are coming down…whether my body likes it or not.

I love you

I love you to, Doron.

And back in the small room, small and pale fingers tightened their grip on the small stone.

XXX

Laughing…they were laughing.

Their harsh language grating on his ears…on his very nerves.

Pain and agony.

His son.

Where was he?

Thranduil opened his eyes, the weak morning sunlight bathing the sleeping figure beside him in a soft buttery glow.

Vanriel was a balm to Thranduil's tired and aching soul, the very hint of her presence making him smile and make his day brighten. Even in her pregnancy Vanriel was the most beautiful maiden Thranduil had ever set eyes on, and he often wondered how she could love him so.

Some one knocked on the door and Thranduil groaned; surely his kingdom could survive without him for one morning? Reluctantly he slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe before opening the door.

Doron swept in uninvited.

"Where were you yesterday Adar?" He hissed without so much as a 'good morning'. Thranduil frowned; he could already feel the beginnings of a headache, it didn't help that he had no clue as to what his eldest was referring to.

"What are you talking about Doron?" he growled, "And get out before you awaken Vanriel"

Doron ignored his order, his face a tight mask of displeasure. "Where were you Adar?"

Thranduil decided to humour his son.

"I was with Vanriel".

"Why were you not with Legolas? After all it was his begetting day". Doron threw up his hands in anger when his father didn't answer. "Valar you forgot didn't you. You are so wrapped up in your new women that you forgot about your son!"

Thranduil's eyebrows drew together in a jagged lightning shape. "Who are you to question what I do?" he asked, trying to hold back his temper.

Doron lost the fragile control on his temper.

"I am you son!" He roared, waking up Vanriel. "And so is Legolas. But you don't go to him my king and try to wrest him from the depths of his coma! You don't try to tempt him into the waking world. Instead you closet yourself with this hare brained whore and forget about your sons!"

"Get out, and don't you dare speak of your mother that way!" Thranduil roared, he cut an imposing figure but Doron was neither cowed nor intimidated.

"She is not my Mother!" Came the equally furious answer. "She is nothing but your new women!"

"Get out boy or so help me the guards will help you out".

"With pleasure!" Doron yelled, "I can not stand to look upon your face. You disgust me and I gladly renounce any ties of kinship with you!"

All anger fled Thranduil, leaving the King shocked and pale as he stared aghast at his son. "You cannot-"he began weakly, his voice gaining strength as he continued, "You cannot abandon your home for a rejected plaything of Orcs".

Doron spun around and shoved Thranduil into a wall; holding is father there with one strong hand.

"What possessed you to say that about Legolas?" Doron spat.

Thranduil glowered at his son, incredulous at Doron's defiance. He struggled but with no small amount of shock realised his son was a fair bit stronger then he and that he was unable to free himself from Doron's iron grip.

"Don't you dare go near Legolas or I swear Adar, King or not, I will bring you before the Sylvan elders for trial", Doron continued, voice hard. "Stay away from me and mine brother and stick to your precious new women and son".

Doron then released the King and marched to the door, his parting words chilling the King's blood. "When Legolas is fit to travel we will both leave your halls, Adar, and seek refuge in the Forester's settlement. Rest assured, you may soon wipe your hands clean of both of us, and you are no longer my Adar".

When Doron left, Thranduil collapsed to his knees, prompting a shocked Vanriel to leave the bed and encase him within her arms, rocking him soothingly. "I have lost my son", he sobbed.

"Go to him, beloved, make him stay", she murmured.

"I cannot, Sylvan law dictates that a child can chose whether or not to obey their parents, giving them free rein to disown. I have lost my children Vanriel, and there is nothing I can do".

Vanriel had no answer to that and just rocked him.

TBC

Ok a lot may seem extreme but just remember that a lot can be said in the heat of anger.