Disclaimer: Once again, I have borrowed characters from Tolkien, but only for the duration of this story. They will be returned without harm at the end of this adventure.

A/N: Timeline wise, this little tale takes place between The First Snowfall and The First Journey.

Chapter 1 - Escape

It was an easy drop to the ground from the lowermost branch of the majestic oak and Legolas landed on the soft mossy ground with nary a sound. With all his senses alert for any sound or movement of alarm, Legolas peered about him cautiously and then slowly grinned. He had made it!

He paused long enough to murmur a brief word of thanks to the tree that had aided in his escape before scampering off through the trees, but not before he cast one last disdainful look at the intimidating wall that had held him prisoner for far too long. Even though he was now beyond the confines of the hated walls, he knew he had to maintain his vigilance. Many cottages were nearby and being spotted by one of its occupants would put a very quick end to this adventure, even before it even had an opportunity to begin.

He was well aware of the need to move quickly and put as much distance between himself and the stronghold as possible. His ada would start looking for him as soon as his absence was brought to attention. He was certain of that. He grimaced at the thought of how angry his ada would be when he found out that he had ventured beyond the walls, as he had been forbidden to do so time and time again. Even the certainty of the King's wrath and the inevitable punishment were not enough to detract his fascination with spiders. He simply had to see the spiders for himself to satisfy that ever growing obsession. Despite his resolve to forge ahead with his quest, he still harboured a small hope of escaping unscathed from his adar's anticipated displeasure. If he could return to the stronghold before he was even missed, then his ada would not need to get angry and he would get his wish of seeing his first spider. Yes, that would be for the best for all around.

A tingle of excitement, mixed with an undeniable stab of fear, swept through him as he again thought of what he was searching for. Spiders! Perhaps at long last he would get to see with his very own eyes those dreaded creatures that everyone spoke of with such fear. Well, perhaps his ada's warriors would not speak of spiders with fear, and certainly not his very brave brothers, Tavaro and Feren, both of whom, of course, fought these dark creatures on a daily basis while they were on patrol. Someday, he would be fearless, just like his brothers. But for now, he would be content just to catch his first glimpse of these venomous beasts. A very quick look and then he would return to the safety of his home. He patted the small quiver strapped to his back in self-assurance, even as his grip tightened unconsciously on his beloved bow. Just in case, for things did not always work to plan.

He had heard about the spiders quite by accident. Two servants, unaware of his presence in an inconspicuous corner of the cavernous palace kitchen, had traded nervous whispers of the news that a spider had been found near the stronghold. The mention of spiders had instantly drawn Legolas' interest and he had listened to their hushed discussion with rapt attention.

"It was said that they found a spider not a stone's throw from one of the outer cottages," the younger one of the two servants had said while casting a nervous glance behind her in the fear that one such creature might be hiding in the great cooking cauldrons.

"It was killed though, was it not?" the older one had asked.

"Oh yes! But if there is one spider, then there will be others. An alert has gone out to all the cottagers to be wary and to keep close within the walls until the Home Guards have dealt with the threat," the younger one had continued.

"Well, that will be done, I can assure you. I cannot recall anyone falling prey to spiders so near to the stronghold for as long as I can remember, and that is a long time. Nothing will come of it," the older servant had countered with confidence.

They had then moved away, murmuring quietly in words that were lost to Legolas.

That had been yesterday and Legolas had spent a better part of the night marveling over the fact a spider had ventured so close to the stronghold. Such late-night marveling, of course, had eventually culminated in the hasty plan that he would venture forth to see for himself whether there was truth to the servant's statement that '… if there is one spider, then there will be others.' He had long harboured a morbid yearning to see these dark creatures for himself, and if the spiders were so conveniently nearby, he was not going to miss out on such a ripe opportunity.

As these thoughts tumbled through his excited mind, his feet carried him without pause in the direction where he thought the outer cottages were located. The spider had been killed there. Perhaps its body was still there. If he could not see a live one, then he would be satisfied with seeing a dead one. He wondered fleetingly how one went about tracking spiders. He must remember to ask Tavaro about that the next time his brother came home on leave.

He stopped for a moment to get his bearings. He had not been to this part of the forest before. He looked back in the direction where he thought the wall would be and could see nothing but trees. Was he lost? What if he was going in the wrong direction? A sudden stab of fear coursed through him. A small voice from within warned him that he should return the way he came and put an end to this adventure before something bad could take place. He strained his ears for any alarming sounds and was relieved to hear only the happy murmurs of the trees around him. Surely if the trees were content, then there could be no danger nearby. Taking in a deep breath, he decided to ignore that small voice and its warning. He was determined to see a spider and he was not prepared to give up so easily on what his heart so dearly desired.

A thought suddenly struck him and he stopped in mid-track. Once again, he looked back the way from whence he came. All he could see were trees, many, many trees. How would he retrace his way back to the stronghold? He tried to recall the direction that he had taken since jumping down from the oak. Had he been traveling in a straight line, or had he made turns? He gave a frustrated stamp of his foot. Belatedly, he realized that he should have been leaving markings along the way so that he could find his way back. Should he go back now and start again? No, that would take too long and time was something that he did not have, not if he was to return home before he was missed by his ada. He would just have to start leaving markings from this point on and hoped for the best.

He looked about him and found a small, sharp stone. Murmuring an apology for what he was about to do, he then made a small mark on the trunk of a nearby beech. He was greatly gratified and relieved to hear a cheerful 'you are welcome' from the marked tree. He had been worried that marking the trees in such a manner would hurt them in some way. The trees, however, were too happy to have the rare and unexpected presence of an elfling in their company and were eager to aid him in whatever way they could. Legolas continued his way through the forest, repeating the process of marking on every seventh tree, while keeping his eyes alert for any signs of spiders, though he knew not what those signs were. This latter absence of knowledge was no deterrent to the elfling. Legolas had already decided to himself, with a simplicity that was common among those of tender years, that he would surely recognize a spider should he see one, even if he could not easily recognize the signs left behind by such a spider.

While Legolas was thus happily forging ahead on his self-appointed quest, his absence was about to be duly noted, and subsequent alarm raised, as the remaining members of his family gathered for their midday meal.

Aldeon was already in the family's private dining room when Thranduil made his appearance. Acknowledging his eldest with a smile and a wave to resume sitting, Thranduil took his place at the head of the table.

"Where is Legolas?" he asked, seeing that the seat customarily occupied by his youngest was empty.

"I was going to ask the same of you," Aldeon said with a frown. "I thought he would be in your company."

Thranduil shook his head. "No, I have been in council with my advisors the entire morning and I have not seen Legolas since I left him at the library with his tutor."

"Perhaps he is still at the library then. I shall go get him," Aldeon said and left the room quickly.

Thranduil fought down the urge to follow in his son's wake. Aldeon was of course more than capable of retrieving his young brother from the guardianship of his tutor, but some sudden inner disturbance within the King was telling him that not all was right. His gaze, of its own accord, trailed time and time again to the empty seat by his side. It was not the first time that he had been plagued by such inexplicable uneasiness and experience of the past warned him that there was ample reason for worry, especially if such uneasiness was in some way linked to Legolas.

It seemed an eternity before Aldeon returned, followed an equally anxious looking Calanon who, over the long years, had tutored not only each of the King's sons, but Thranduil himself.

Thranduil had stood up when the door opened. The grim face of his son and that of the tutor, coupled with the marked absence of his youngest, told the King all he needed to know. His heart sank instantly into a downward spiral of raw fear. As he waited for their inevitable words, Thranduil's foremost thought, unbidden and unwanted, was that of spiders. A spider had been killed near the outer cottages only yesterday. And his child, the heart of his heart, was missing.

"Legolas?" the King asked with painful simplicity.

Aldeon shook his head, the look in his eyes reflecting the fear felt by his father. "Calanon had given him early leave from his lessons and had not seen him since."

"My lord," Calanon explained without being asked. "I ended the lessons three hours ago." Seeing the questioning frown on his liege's countenance, he quickly added, "The young prince was doing so exceptionally well this morning that I thought he deserved a reward and thus dismissed him early from his lessons. I had thought that he would retire to his chambers."

"He is not in his chambers. I have looked already," Aldeon answered his father's wordless query. "I have alerted the Palace Guards and a search of the passageways and the interior grounds is underway at this moment. With your leave, Adar, I would like to dispatch the Home Guards to search the exterior grounds. I know we should not alert the Home Guards until we have thoroughly searched the interior grounds, but with the sighting and killing of a spider yesterday so close by, I think it would be prudent to have them conduct the search concurrently."

"Do so immediately," Thranduil said without hesitation. So he was not alone in his fears. The threat of the spiders had occurred to Aldeon as well.

"I shall lead one of the search parties of the Home Guards myself," Aldeon said with a certain grimness.

"And I shall lead another." Thranduil had no intentions of standing by idly.

"Adar," Aldeon said guardedly. "Perhaps it would be better if you remain behind, in case if Legolas is found within the walled vicinity."

Thranduil pressed his lips into a thin, hard line. If his heart had its way, he would already be flying through the forests beyond the stronghold in search of his youngest, instead of wasting precious moments discussing the logistics of the search. Each moment that his child was alone out there was another moment fraught with untold danger for the elfling. But his long years of experience as King told him that Aldeon was right.

With the greatest reluctance, he acquiesced, "Commence the search immediately. I shall wait here for your return."

Aldeon stepped forward and clasped his father in a brief embrace. "I shall find him, Adar."

Thranduil nodded and watched in frustrated silence as his eldest took his leave.

"My lord."

The sudden sound of the tutor speaking reminded that Thranduil that he was not alone. Schooling his face to show little of the inner fears and turmoil that he was battling, Thranduil turned to his former tutor.

"My lord, "Calanon repeated. "I apologize with all my heart for what has happened. I should not have allowed Legolas to leave the library early. I did not think he would leave these halls on his own. He expressed a wish to show you the composition that he did so well on. He did not come to you then?"

Thranduil shook his head. "No, I am not aware that he did, though I have been behind closed doors with my advisors and he knows not to disturb me when I am thus engaged." Seeing the guilt-ridden face before him, Thranduil forced back his own misgivings and fears for the moment. "Calanon, you have done no wrong for which you should plague yourself with guilt. Your intentions were to reward Legolas. Certainly you were not to know that he would abuse such good intentions by getting himself into whatever mischief that he may have gotten himself into this time. No, if anyone is to be blamed, it is Legolas himself. I will not have you take blame for something that is not within your control."

"Thank you, my lord," Calanon dipped his head gratefully. "But regardless of who is to be blamed, I worry still for Legolas."

"As do I," Thranduil sighed heavily, no longer able to mask his anguish. He did not hear what further words the tutor had to say, if indeed, the latter said anything further at all, nor did he hear door opening and closing as the other elf at last left the room.

In the end, Thranduil removed himself from the table with its spread of untouched and now cold dishes, and made his way to his private library. He would put these terrible hours of waiting to good use by burying himself in the countless treaties and missives awaiting his attention. He even went as far as picking up the first scroll of parchment with every intention of reviewing its contents. The words danced meaninglessly before his eyes and after a while, the piece of parchment dropped without regard to the floor.

While all those he left behind were in a state of frenzy and fear over his absence, Legolas continued his way through the trees, humming softly to himself and giving little thought to the ever growing distance between himself and the stronghold from which he had made his escape.

TBC

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer.

Chapter 2 - Unexpected Company

Anar had traveled more than halfway across the sky when Legolas at last took notice of the passing time. With a small cry of dismay, he realized that any hope that his absence would go undetected was gone. His ada and brother would be sitting down for their midday meal by now and his absence would become glaringly obvious in an instant. His stomach suddenly growled, reminding him that he had not eaten since breakfast so many hours ago. In his hurry to escape, he had neglected to pack some food or water. The more he thought about food, the more loudly his stomach growled.

Perhaps it was time to call an end to his quest. Not only was he hungry, but he was beginning to think that he had been traveling in the wrong direction all along. He had seen no sign of any cottages or their occupants thus far. Though it had been his intention to avoid them for fear of detection at the beginning, it did not seem right that there should be a complete absence of signs of elves living nearby. Could it be that his people did not live in this part of the forest? Not for the first time, he wished he were more familiar with his way in these forests. He would have to pester Tavaro to take him riding more often, and certainly to more distant destinations than just along the path that led from the main gates, which had been the extent of their riding foray to date. After all, how was he ever to learn to find his way about in these forests if he was kept behind the walls of the stronghold all the time? If he had been allowed more freedom to wander about, he would at least be able to find his way to the outer cottages now, he thought indignantly.

Suddenly, his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of something or someone approaching. His heartbeats quickened instantly. Could it be spiders? His first instinct was to scramble into the safety of a tree, and he did so without a second thought. Once he was safely ensconced in the sturdy embrace of a thick branch, at a height which no doubt would horrify his ada, he drew and readied an arrow. If they were spiders, he would be ready for them. It was perhaps fortunate that, at this point, Legolas was blessedly ignorant of the fact that spiders' favoured mode of travel was through the trees and his sense of security was thus preserved for the time being.

The sounds grew louder, interspersed with voices speaking words that were unfamiliar to his ears. Was that the language of spiders? There must be a great many of them and they must be very large indeed to make all those noises. He peered intently through the lattice of leaves, his bow held firmly in his hands. He would not loosen his arrows at them, he had already decided. For now, he only wanted to see what they looked like and then he would leave. But when he was older and a warrior, these dark creatures would not pass by him unscathed, he vowed silently to himself.

The sounds grew louder, as did the voices. Spiders must be very quarrelsome creatures if their clamourous voices were any indication. As the creatures drew nearer, Legolas hardly dared to breathe and feared the loud thumping of his heart would alert the foes to his presence.

The first sight of the creatures caught him totally by surprise and he made an involuntary squeak before he could control himself. Small as the sound might have been, it was enough to stop those creatures in their tracks and several sets of eyes amidst a mass of fur peered up at the very tree where Legolas was perched. Wargs! These must be wargs with all their fur! And they had seen him! He must get away!

He scrambled along the branch and without hesitation, leapt onto the outreaching branch of a nearby tree, landing with innate elven agility on the sturdy tree limb. His ada would be truly horrified now for he had expressly forbidden Legolas to leap between branches, ever. That could not be helped now. He had to get away from those wargs if he did not want to be eaten by them. He was certain his ada would much prefer a leaping elfling than a dead elfling. They were shouting at him now. He had not known that wargs could speak.

He made another leap and this time, his agility failed him. With a cry of dismay, he felt himself falling through the air. The tree that he had been aiming for was equally alarmed and it reached out with one of its lower boughs to cushion the elfling's fall. The branch arrested the falling momentum for a brief second before snapping under Legolas' weight, slight as it was, and the broken branch and elfling both tumbled to the ground.

Legolas landed on his back with a thump, shattering the small quiver and all air was driven from him. When he could not draw in any precious breath, panic seized him and sight and sound disappeared as well. Blindly thrashing, he rolled onto his hands and knees, his fingers clawing desperately at the moss covered ground. Then miraculously, he was finally able to inhale a wheezing gasp of life-saving air, and sight and sound returned. Too occupied in sucking in gulps of air to fill his tortured lungs, Legolas was oblivious to the approach of his pursuers.

It was only when Legolas was finally able to calm his heaving breaths that he caught sight of the several pairs of boots before him. With a small whimper of fear, he scrambled backwards on his haunches in a futile effort to get away from the wargs. Even in his fear, he thought it strange that wargs should be wearing boots. Although the wearers of the boots did not follow him, they did call out in that strange language. At the same time, Legolas found his hasty escape blocked by the trunk of a tree. Bracing himself, he peered up at his pursuers.

One of the creatures directed a string of words at him. Legolas stared at it blankly and shook his head. It was then that he realized that these creatures were wearing clothing and each was armed with a sturdy and dangerous looking axe. Upon closer inspection, Legolas realized that these creatures were standing upright on two legs though they were not much taller than himself. These were no four-legged wargs!

"Dwarves!" Sudden realization came out in a half-whisper.

At the sound, the creatures looked at one another and then back at the crouching elfling.

"So you do have a tongue!"

It was the same one who spoke, though this time, Legolas found that he could understand the words. Comprehension slowly dawned on him. The dwarf was now speaking Westron, one of the tongues taught to him by his tutor. Slowly, he nodded and continued to eye them warily.

"Where are the others?" the same one asked.

"Others?" The Westron word sounded strange rolling from his tongue.

"You cannot be by yourself. You are but an elfling, barely big enough to fill the height of my boot."

"I am much taller than your boot!" His indignation overrode his fear.

The dwarf harrumphed in response. His companions sniggered. It was then that Legolas took count and realized that there were six of them. He hoped fervently that they would allow him to go on his way. He cannot hope to outfight all six of them, even if he could get to his bow and scattered arrows.

"So elfling, where are the others?" The question was repeated.

Legolas' brain scrambled for an answer. "They are nearby." He decided that it was not really a lie as other elves were nearby, though not as nearby as he wished they were. His ada did not approve of lying.

At this response, the dwarves suddenly exchanged glances of alarm before looking about warily. Encouraged, Legolas decided to add to what he had said. "They are hunting nearby. As I am too small to hunt, I am told to wait here for them. They will be back very soon."

The dwarves looked at each other in growing dismay and one of them said, "Maybe we should leave before they return."

"We did not see any elves along the way. The elfling is lying," another countered.

Legolas held his breath.

"But I hear elves are fiercely protective of their young ones and would never leave one by himself." The third one added his opinion, in dwarvish.

"It is a her, not him. Look at all that hair." It was now the fourth one's turn to speak, continuing in the same tongue.

"All elves have long hair like that. They spend a better part of their lives preening those locks, since that is the only hair on their scrawny hides. They can only dream of having beards like ours." The fifth one was not content to remain silent either.

"Enough!" the second dwarf barked irritably. "We are trying to find out how this elfling came to be here, not argue over his sex or his hair."

"He dropped from the trees," the fourth dwarf pointed out.

"So he did. What of that?"

"He is such a wee little thing. Maybe he has just been birthed." Seeing the puzzled looks on his companions' faces, he explained, "Well, he was growing on the tree and once reaching proper size, he dropped, just like fruits do when ripe."

"You ignorant bundle of useless beard! Elves do not grow on trees! I fear your body has used its all to grow that feet-tangling beard of yours and left none to grow a brain with!"

"He is a Wood Elf, is he not? And how do you know they do not grow on trees? These Wood Elves are notoriously secretive. Who knows what goes on behind these trees."

"Well, I still do not believe this one hatched from a tree! Besides, he is fully clothed. New babes are naked."

"Silence, you two! We need to decide what to do with the elfling. I doubt his kin is nearby or we would be shot full of arrows by now. I think he is lost."

"Then let him stay lost. That is no concern of ours. We need to get away from here before we are shot full of arrows."

"Have you forgotten that we have been chased by those cursed spiders for two days? We cannot leave the wee one here to be eaten by those dark creatures!"

"He is an elf! Why should we trouble ourselves worrying whether he is eaten by spiders? Better him than us. Let his own kin worry about that!"

"But he is by himself and his kin is nowhere near! Would you leave one of our youngs to be eaten?"

"Of course not! But he is not one of our youngs. And what would our kin think of us if we should risk our necks to help an elf?"

"And where would we take him? We should not be in these forests in the first place. If we are to deliver him to other elves, that would be akin to proclaiming our act of trespass to them pointy-ears. We will end up in the Elven King's dungeons."

"It was not our intent to trespass. Those cursed spiders forced us to take this route. It is the fault of them elves. They should not let those cursed creatures roam so freely."

"If we return this wee one to his people, his kin will be so grateful to us that they will show us a safe passage out of this forest."

"You would ask aid of elves?!"

"It is not asking for aid if it is provided willingly, and it will be. Trust me. Elves may have no other redeeming value, but they do dote on their young."

"You may have a point there. I do not want to spend the rest of my days running about in this forest dodging spiders."

Three others concurred with this course of action.

The sixth one finally spoke up after a grudging silence. "I am out-voted then. Do not ask me go anywhere near that elf. I do not wish to catch any sickness he might be carrying."

"We all agree then. Good, I will tell the elf what we have decided."

It was fortunate that the above conference among the dwarves was carried out in their own tongue and that Legolas understood not a word of it or the elfling would have been highly insulted and angered by some of the comments made. As his fate was being discussed at length, Legolas continued his wary observation of these creatures that had been the subject of a very cursory lesson given by his tutor not too long ago. In spite of his misgivings of the dwarves' intentions toward him, Legolas could not help but marvel that he was presently in the company of dwarves, real live dwarves. It was not as exciting as seeing a spider, he supposed, but it was better than nothing.

His reverie was suddenly broken when he saw one of the dwarves approaching him. He tried to press back further against the tree, but there was nowhere for him to go. Swallowing the odd lump that was growing in his throat, he looked up at the creature, and hoped that the fear that he was feeling did not show on his face.

"We have decided to take you back to your kin," the dwarf informed him. "You cannot stay here by yourself."

Legolas stared at him with widened eyes. What would his ada say when he returned with six dwarves in tow? He had brought home strayed animals before, but these dwarves were not strayed creatures from the woods, not really.

"Do you know the way to your people?" the dwarf asked.

"I know part of the way," Legolas admitted truthfully. "I left marks on the trees."

"When we come upon your people, you will tell them what happened. We do not want them poking us full of arrows thinking that we have taken you by force."

Legolas nodded. These dwarves had chased him but they had done no real harm to him, yet.

"You are hurt. There is blood on your leg."

Legolas gave him a startled look before glancing down at his own leg. Blood was indeed seeping from a ragged tear in his leggings. The sight of blood immediately gave rise to a sensation of pain that he had somehow not felt until now and he could not help the hiss that escaped through his parted lips. To make matters worse, pain flared suddenly on his back as well, where he had landed on and crushed his quiver. Tears threatened but he made a valiant effort at pushing them back. He must not cry. He must not shame himself by showing weakness before these dwarves. But both his leg and back were throbbing painfully.

Suddenly he realized that the dwarf was reaching for his leg with a scrap of cloth in hand. He drew back instantly.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I was going to wrap your leg with this. We cannot have you leaving a trail of blood for the spiders to follow," the dwarf replied.

"Spiders?" Legolas asked, the pain temporarily forgotten.

"Aye, spiders. They have been dogging our trail for near two days now."

"Are they near?" Legolas asked excitedly.

"I hope not! Now let me wrap that leg of yours and we best be on our way. I have no intention of standing about to find out how near they are."

The cloth looked as if it had not seen water and soap for quite some time now. Legolas wrinkled his nose in distaste as the dwarf wound the cloth around his injured leg.

"Can you walk?" the dwarf asked when he was done.

"I can walk," Legolas answered quickly and pushed himself upright. It hurt to move, but he was not about to let one of the dwarves carry him like a babe. Limping over to where his broken quiver lay, he gathered the few scattered arrows while his eyes searched about for his bow. He found it near the tree from which he had fallen, broken and beyond repair. This time, he was nearly unable to hold back the tears. Aldeon had made this bow for him, his first bow.

"Leave that bow. You might as well leave the arrows too as they are useless without a bow," the dwarf said.

"No!" Legolas clutched the bow tighter to him. "I will leave the arrows, but I am not leaving the bow. We go this way." Without another word, he headed in the direction where he had last marked a tree.

The dwarf shrugged and called to his companions to follow. The company of one elfling and six dwarves trampling through the forest of Mirkwood was a rare sight indeed. A few forest creatures paused to stare in amazement and the trees murmured excitedly among themselves.

Meanwhile, at some distance back, the spiders picked up the trail unwittingly left by the dwarves.

TBC

See Chap. 1 for disclaimer.

Chapter 3 - More Unexpected Company

They had not traveled very far before the dwarves decided to stop for their midday meal. Legolas was glad for the respite, for his leg was throbbing with every step and his back was stiff and sore. And he was very hungry. He wondered what the dwarves would provide for this meal. Perhaps they would hunt down some forest creatures to roast over an open fire. He had heard from Tavaro that warriors often ate in this manner and he was eager to eat like a warrior, even if he did not fight like one, yet. He eyed the dwarves hopefully.

To his great disappointment, each of them untied a small bag attached to their heavy belts and drew out strips of what appeared to be dried meat. These they set to immediately with a great gnashing and chomping of teeth as if it was the most delectable of fare. One dwarf took notice that the elfling was watching them with unblinking eyes. Reluctantly, he reached into his own bag and drew out another strip of meat, weighed it briefly for size in his hand before handing it to Legolas.

"Here, and do not tell your kin that we starved you," he said grumpily.

"Thank you."

Legolas eyed the piece of dark, wizened meat in his hand and thought it the most unappetizing thing he had ever seen, but he was hungry and it would be rude to turn away food that the dwarves were willing to share with him. Cautiously, he bit down on the hardened meat. His teeth made not a dent on the unyielding substance. Legolas pulled it away and gave it a hardy stare. His stomach growled. He tried once more, but this time, he held onto the meat with both hands and gnawed his teeth back and forth until he succeeded in tearing a sliver off. The meat was bitterly salty and tasted of nothing in particular. The saltiness of the meat made the saliva in his mouth pool and he quickly wiped a hand across his mouth. It would not do to drool in the presence of dwarves. It took much effort on Legolas part, but he managed to consume the entire strip of the unappetizing meat, though he was left with a set of aching jaws and a raging thirst afterwards.

The dwarves too had finished chewing through their strips of meat and were pouring some form of liquid into tin cups from which they drank with great relish. Legolas eyed the liquid with longing and hoped that he would be offered a cup as well. The same dwarf who had given him the meat saw his look of need. With as much reluctance as before, he filled his cup and passed it to the elfling.

"I never thought I would see the day that I would share my cup with an elf," the dwarf groused. His companions laughed haughtily.

"Thank you," Legolas said gratefully and took a large gulp. And just as quickly, he spat out the liquid, and was immediately seized by a fit of choking coughs.

The dwarf quickly took the cup away before more of its precious content could be spilled.

"It is not water!" Legolas gasped breathlessly as he wiped his teary eyes. "Do you not have water?

"Of course it is not water! Why would we carry water when we can carry ale? You either drink this or nothing of at all! Trust an elf to spat out our ale!" was the indignant reply.

Legolas eyed the cup warily, his tongue curling still from the unfamiliar taste left by the ale. Suddenly, he had an idea. Taking the cup from the dwarf in one hand and with the other, he pinched his nostrils shut and drained the ale in one long gulp. He had done this before when the palace healers had forced upon him their vile brews and it had helped then. And it worked now. He had succeeded in draining the entire cup without gagging and his thirst was now quenched. There was nothing he could do to remove the bitter aftertaste, however.

"Thank you." He returned the now empty cup to the dwarf.

"Humph! You drink our ale like you do poison! Ungrateful creature that you elves are!"

Legolas reddened. "I am unused to the taste of your ale. I did thank you though!"

The dwarf harrumphed again. He reattached the cup and the bag of dried meat to his belt and rose from the ground. "We best be on our way if we are to return you to your kin before dark."

And so the procession of elfling and dwarves continued through the trees until they at last came upon the first tree that Legolas had left his mark.

"I do not know the way from here," Legolas admitted as they all came to an abrupt stop.

"You do not know the way!" one of the dwarves bellowed.

"I only thought of marking the trees half-way through my journey," Legolas admitted. He gestured vaguely in the direction before him. "I think my people are through the trees there."

"Now what do we do? We are as lost as the pointy-ears here."

"It was your idea to return the elf to his kin. You decide what we should do!"

The first dwarf glowered at the elfling as if in doing so, Legolas' memory might be prompted to lead them in the right direction. The elfling returned the look with wide-eyed patience. Suddenly the trees began to murmur in agitation. Legolas tilted his head and listened intently.

"Something is coming! The trees are warning us," Legolas said.

"You elves and your tree talk!" one the dwarves spat in disgust.

"Silence, you fool! I think the spiders have found us again!"

"Spiders? Where?" Legolas snapped his head around in eager anticipation.

"You, grab the elf and run. We will try to distract those vile creatures the best we can. We will try to catch up with you bye-and-bye!" the dwarf who appeared to be in charge ordered one of his companions.

"Why do I have to take the pointy-ears? I told you I was not going near the creature!"

"You are the swiftest among us, and he cannot run with his injured leg. Now go, before we all become food morsels for those spiders!"

Legolas looked from one dwarf to the other with eyes the size of saucers. Suddenly and with a growl of disgust, the so-ordered dwarf snatched him from the ground. Legolas managed a squeak of surprise before he was tucked like a parcel under the dwarf's arm and carried off at a surprising speed by the naugrim.

Legolas found himself struggling to breathe, and what breath that he could snatch into his burning lungs was tainted with the stale and unpleasant odours of a body that did not see water and soap on a daily basis. To make matters worse, the jostling movements were making the foreign food and drink in his stomach swoosh about in the most sickening manner as the dwarf weaved his way between trees. His instinct for survival took over and Legolas struggled and thrashed with the parts of his body that were still at liberty to move.

"Stop thrashing, you ungrateful snippet of an elf!" the dwarf growled and promptly delivered a smack to the elfling's head with his hammer-like fist.

The pain of the blow made Legolas' eyes watered and his legs kicked out again, and this time, he was able to make solid contact with the backside of the dwarf. The stout one grunted in surprise and his hold on the elfling's neck loosened briefly. Legolas instantly jerked his face from where it had been pressed against the dwarf's side and sucked in a long, unhindered breath. He was immediately assaulted by the overwhelming odours emanating from the dwarf and the elfling's stomach rebelled in the only manner it knew how, all over his carrier's clothing and splendid beard.

"Ahh! You cursed, undersized, erupting tree hugger!"

The dwarf's reaction was immediate and Legolas found himself flung through the air and landing on the ground with a painful thump, his injured leg taking the brunt of the impact. Tears welled and spilled freely and Legolas would have cried out from the pain if his hands were not clamped tightly over his mouth. His stomach had just spilled from his mouth and if he did not keep his mouth sealed, his heart would surely spill out next and he would then most assuredly die. Overwhelmed with the fear of his imminent death and pain from his injured leg, the elfling was totally oblivious to the wildly angered and now soiled dwarf as the latter hobbled about, cursing Legolas and all things elven, living or otherwise, with every dwarvish blasphemy that had come down through the ages.

"You touch one more hair on that elfling's head, and you will have drawn your last breath."

A cold and impassive voice suddenly cut through the string of dwarvish curses and the agitated one came to an abrupt stop, in movement and in voice. The dwarf then turned slowly and saw that he was surrounded by a ring of silent elven warriors, each directing an arrow at his most vulnerable body parts. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of his companions being herded forward. One was obviously injured and was supported by two of his fellow travelers.

The warrior who had voiced the initial threat stepped forward and appraised the dwarves with a cold glare of warning before moving swiftly to kneel by the crouching elfling.

"Are you all right, little one? Did he injure you anywhere else?" The once icy voice was now gentle and full of compassion. "Come, tell me where you are hurt."

Legolas looked up at his sudden saviour with fearful eyes as the tears continued to spill. He did not move the hands that remained clamped over his mouth.

"Take your hands away, little one and speak with me," the warrior urged.

Legolas shook his head frantically and mumbled through closed lips, "Heartwillcomeout."

The warrior's eyes widened. "I am afraid that I do not understand you. Will you not take your hands away and tell me what is wrong?"

There was another tearful shake of the golden head.

The warrior studied the elfling, taking careful note of the sullied hair and the unmistakable smell of vomit. He then turned his attention to the one who had been threatened by him earlier and took note of the latter's vomit-covered beard and clothing. Understanding dawned and he struggled to suppress a growing smile.

"Were you sick, little one?" he asked gently. Seeing the incomprehension in the tearful eyes, he realized that perhaps this elfling had yet to experience the trauma of vomiting. He reworded his query. "Did something spill from our mouth?"

The golden head nodded vigorously. "Stomach."

"Oh no, little one. That was not your stomach." The warrior did his best not to laugh outright. "It was probably something that you ate that your stomach disliked. When that happens, the stomach rids itself of the unwanted food, as a way of cleansing itself."

Legolas looked at him suspiciously, but made no move to remove his hands.

"Come, take your hands down and speak with me," the warrior urged again.

Legolas shook his head. "Heart."

The warrior smiled. "No, your heart is quite safe, I assure you. Here, allow me to take your hands away and you can then feel your heart."

Gentle hands pried loose the small fingers and placed one of Legolas' hands over the elfling's heart. "There, can you feel it?"

Legolas concentrated fiercely and felt the rapid thumping of his heart under his cautious fingers. He looked up in great wonderment. "Heart is still there."

The warrior smiled once more. "Yes, your heart is certainly still there." He reached for his water skin and offered it to the elfling. "Take a small sip to rinse your mouth before spitting it out. Then you take a real drink after that. It will make you feel better."

Legolas did as he was told and spat out the water eagerly. He had never been allowed to do this before. He gave the warrior a wavering smile. The latter nodded encouragingly. The elfling then took another sip. Water had never tasted so good.

"Slowly, little one, or you will make yourself sick again," the warrior cautioned.

Legolas yanked the water skin away immediately. He was not completely certain yet that his stomach and heart would stay in place, in spite of the other's assurances.

"Now, can you tell me where else you are hurt, apart from your leg?" the warrior asked as he set down the water skin.

"My back is sore from the fall off the tree," Legolas said.

"You fell from a tree?" The warrior looked duly horrified.

Legolas' face reddened. Wood Elves did not fall from trees. "I was trying to get away from the dwarves. I thought they were wargs."

"The dwarves were chasing you? Did they make you fall from the tree?" The latter statement was accompanied by a formidable frown directed at the naugrims.

Legolas recognized that look. He had seen it many times before on his brother, Feren's face. The promise that he had made to the dwarves came quickly back to him. "I do not think they meant to chase me. I was the one running away from them. They did not hurt me. They were taking me home as they said they did not want to leave me alone in the forest. Then the spiders came, though I did not see them as that one," pointing at the unfortunate dwarf, "carried me off while the others stayed behind to fight the spiders."

The warrior nodded. "So the naugrims speak the truth." He turned to the unmoving warriors. "Lower your bows. I do not think they pose a threat to us, or to the elfling. Attend to the injured one and give him another dose of antidote."

"Did he get bitten by a spider?" Legolas asked.

"Yes, he did, but we have given him the antidote and he should recover in due course."

"And the spiders, where are they?" Legolas looked about him with uncontained eagerness.

"We have killed them so you need not fear them any longer. You are quite safe now," the warrior assured quickly, mistaking the eagerness for fear in the elfling.

"Oh."

The note of disappointment did not escape the warrior. He studied the elfling closely and a slow smile of understanding spread across his face. He retrieved his pack and pulled from it a small healing kit. "Let me attend to your leg first, and we need to clean you as well. How did you hurt your leg?"

"I think I caught it on a branch when I fell from the tree. I missed the branch that I was leaping for."

"You were travelling through the trees?" A frown creased the other's face.

Legolas lowered his gaze. "I am forbidden to do so, but I was trying to move quickly and I dared not go to the ground because I thought they were wargs."

"It seems that you have had quite an adventure, little one. Tell me, what is your name?"

"I am called Legolas," Legolas answered dutifully.

"Legolas?" The warrior looked at him with renewed interest. "So you are Legolas. Your adar will not be very happy that you are out here on your own. We best get you back to him as quickly as possible."

"You know my adar?" Legolas asked.

"I doubt that there is one elf in these forests who does not know your adar. It is a fortunate thing that who you are is not such wide-spread knowledge," the warrior said rather cryptically.

Legolas frowned, trying to make sense of the other's words, and failed. "I have told you my name, but you have not told me yours."

"Ahh, how rude of me. My name, little one, is Salque."

"Mae govannen, Salque." Legolas bowed as best as he could from where he was sitting on the ground.

"Mae govannen, Legolas," the warrior returned the greeting.

TBC

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer

Chapter 4 - Confessions

With gentle hands, Salque tied the ends of the bandage together. "There, it is all done." Taking note of the gallantly held back tears, he smiled as he packed away his small healing kit. "You were very brave, little one. If I had a gash like that on my leg, I do not know whether I could have kept still while it was being tended to."

"Really?" Legolas asked, quickly brushing a hand across his eyes before the traitorous tears could fall.

The warrior elf smiled. "Really."

Salque was about to ask the elfling for further details of his adventure when a familiar whistle pierced the afternoon air. "Ahh, we are to be joined by others." Smiling down at the elfling, he mused, "I wonder if you might be what they are looking for."

Legolas looked rather stricken. "I had not meant to stay away for so long. I thought I would not be missed, at least not so quickly."

At this, the warrior elf laughed out loud. "I very much doubt that your absence would go unnoticed for any period of time, considering who your adar is."

Legolas did not look happy at these words, but before either of them could speak again, a familiar voice rang out and Legolas found himself swept into his brother's arms.

"Legolas! Thank the Valar that you are safe!"

Legolas winced as his brother's arms pressed down on his sore back. "Stop, Aldeon! You are hurting me!"

The rather frantic embrace loosened immediately and he found himself under the close scrutiny of his brother's concern-filled gaze.

"Where? Where are you hurt, Legolas?"

"My back," Legolas replied rather plaintively. "You were pressing down on it. It is sore from the fall."

"Fall? And what happened to your leg? There is blood!"

"Be calm, Aldeon!" Salque managed to intercede. "Your brother is relatively unscathed and I have already tended to his leg, though you may wish to have the palace healers have a closer look once you have him home."

"Salque! What are you doing here?" Aldeon took notice of the other elf's presence seemingly for the first time. "Are you returning to us?"

The other elf smiled and nodded. "I have stayed away long enough, I believe."

Aldeon clasped the other's arm warmly. "Welcome back, Salque. Adar will be so pleased." Even as he spoke, his eyes were already returning to his young brother. "What happened to you, Legolas? Why are you out here? And what are the dwarves doing here?"

"Ada always tells me not to ask more than one question at a time as he can only answer one question at a time," Legolas was quick to remind his brother.

Aldeon's eyes continued to roam over every inch of his brother's body, searching for injuries that may have been missed. "All right then, let us start with why you are out here, on your own."

"I am not on my own. I am surrounded by warriors and dwarves," Legolas countered.

Aldeon's brows creased rather ominously at the flippancy of his brother's reply. When he spoke again, his voice was lacking the usual warmth that the elfling was accustomed to. "Legolas, perhaps you are not aware of just how much worry and fear you have caused us this day. I am inclined to be very angry with you."

Startled by his brother's words, Legolas peered at the other elf from under lowered lashes. His oldest brother had never been angry with him before. Aldeon did not look happy right now. Legolas wisely decided to tell the simple truth. "I was out looking for spiders. I overheard some servants speaking of a spider being found near the outer cottages. I wanted to see it for myself, though I have yet to see any spiders at all. When some finally came near, one of the dwarves carried me away while the others stayed behind to fight them."

"Why are the dwarves in our forests? Did they tell you?" Aldeon asked with a frown.

"They did not tell me," Legolas replied. "I found them instead of spiders, though I thought they were wargs at first. They did not hurt me and were going to take me back to Ada's halls. They even gave me food and drink, but I did not like it. It made my stomach want to clean itself, and it did."

Salque could not help laughing at Aldeon's puzzled look. "He was sick, all over the dwarf, apparently."

"He was very angry and threw me onto the ground. That made my leg hurt a lot. I had to cry," Legolas confessed.

"He threw you onto the ground?" There was instantly a dangerous edge to Aldeon's voice.

Salque lay a calming hand on the other elf's shoulder. "I believe it was a natural reaction, considering Legolas was emptying his stomach on him."

"But it was not my stomach, you said!" Legolas was quick to point out, looking rather anxious once more.

"Yes, you are right, of course," Salque said quickly. "It was just the food that had upset your stomach."

Legolas had heretofore rarely seen Aldeon angry and the sudden unsettled look on his brother's countenance made him feared for the wellbeing of the dwarves. Though he felt no great fondness for those stubby beings, neither did he wish to see them harmed by his brother. "Aldeon, you are not going to shoot the dwarves full of arrows, are you? They said you would do that to them and that I was to tell you that they did not hurt me."

"But they did hurt you!" Aldeon pointed out. "Your leg -"

"They did not hurt me, not really. I hurt my leg when I fell from a tree," Legolas explained, once again flushing. How many times must he confess that he fell from a tree? Soon everyone would know of this shame.

"You fell from a tree?" Aldeon echoed incredulously, looking horrified. "Are you certain only your leg is injured? You might have broken bones!"

"Aldeon, be calm. I do not think he has broken anything. Although I have not looked at his back, I think it is only bruised," Salque once again interceded.

"My bow! I broke my bow in the fall!" The mention of things broken jolted Legolas' memory and he scrabbled across the short distance to recover the broken bow, discarded when he had been tossed to the ground so unceremoniously by the dwarf.

"Legolas, do not move! You will injure your leg further!" his brother called out anxiously as he made a futile grasp for the elfling.

"But it is broken!" Legolas held out the broken bow mournfully and tears spilled once more. "You made it for me and now it is broken! I am so sorry, Aldeon!"

The sight of his baby brother's tears instantly drove away anything else that Aldeon might be inclining to feel, leaving behind only the urgent need to comfort the elfling. He scooped up his young brother and settled him onto his lap. "Do not cry, Legolas. I shall make you another bow, a better one. You have grown too big for that one in any event." Gently, he wiped at the wet cheeks and brushed a kiss across the locked brows.

Soothed by Aldeon's words and touch, Legolas brought his tears to a hiccuping end and rested his head against the broad expanse of the other's chest. "Can you make the same carvings on the new bow?"

"I shall make it however you wish it to be," Aldeon promised.

"Thank you, Aldeon." He rubbed his cheek against his brother's tunic. "Are you still angry with me?"

"No, little one," Aldeon admitted truthfully. "I am finding that I am incapable of being angry with you."

The efling nodded against his chest. "I am glad. I do not think I like you being angry with me."

Aldeon brushed his lips against the fine golden hair, breathing a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar for keeping his brother safe. He had feared for the worst when he had sighted the familiar quiver earlier, broken and abandoned amidst the scattered arrows. That and the traces of blood. It was only now, holding the soft, warm body of the elfling in his arms that the fear was finally dissipating, leaving behind the lethargy of tremulous relief.

Now that Legolas had been found, orders needed to be given and messages sent. Aldeon signaled for his second-in-command to come forward. If he had to give his orders while sitting on the forest ground with an elfling in his lap, then so be it. He was for the moment wholly reluctant to release his hold on his baby brother.

"Send the fastest rider with a message to the King, advising that Legolas has been found. Send out riders as well to recall the other search parties. I shall return with Legolas to the stronghold as soon as I can."

The warrior nodded. "Yes, my lord. And the dwarves? What is to done with them?"

"That I have yet to decide, but send the messenger to the King forthwith. No doubt he is beyond frantic with worry by now."

As soon as the warrior had departed to carry out the orders, Legolas asked, "Is Ada very angry with me?"

Aldeon pulled back a little so that he could look at his brother fully in the face. "He was very worried for you, as we all were, when we realized that you were missing. And yes, I think he will be very angry with you."

Legolas winced. "He will punish me."

"Yes, I think he will. Do you not think you deserve it?" Aldeon asked.

The elfling nodded reluctantly. "I did not mean to worry anybody. I just wanted to see a spider."

"Well, you did worry everybody," Aldeon chided gently. Seeing the look of contrition on his brother's face, Aldeon found that he could not continue his remonstration. No doubt Legolas was going to get an earful from their adar later. He could not find it in his heart to add further to his brother's distress. "Perhaps I can speak to Adar to lessen your punishment."

Legolas looked at him hopefully. "You would do that?"

"If you promise me that you will never wander off on your own again," Aldeon said.

Legolas looked at him hesitantly. "I do not know if I can keep such a promise. There are so many things that I want to see and Ada never lets me go anywhere."

"Adar only wants to keep you safe," Aldeon pointed out.

"But I get bored," Legolas protested.

Aldeon considered his brother for a long moment. "Hmm, it would seem that we need to speak of this further, but right now, we should get you home so that Adar can see for himself that you are safe and whole." He looked over to where the dwarves were huddled, guarded loosely by a circle of elven warriors. He would need to deal with the intruders before returning to the stronghold. "Tell me, Salque, how did you come upon Legolas and the dwarves?"

"Quite unintentionally, though at the time, we did not know that the little prince was part of their company." His eyes strayed over to the group of morose looking dwarves and he could not suppress his smile. "One would have to be completely deaf to not be drawn by the commotion those naugrims were making as they attempted to beat back the spiders with their axes, which, I have to say, was most ineffectual. My companions and I made short work of dispatching the spiders with our bows, but not before one of the stunted ones was bitten. It was only after we treated the injured one with antidote that they told us of the elfling in their midst and how one of their companions had spirited the said elfling away from the proximity of the spiders. They appear to be telling the truth, as corroborated by what Legolas tells us. Though I do not know why they have ventured so deeply into our forests."

Aldeon frowned. "That is my concern as well." He rubbed a gentle hand along one of his brother's arm. "The dwarves truly did not hurt you, little one?"

Legolas instinctively touched the sore spot on his head where the dwarf had hit him. "No, not really." He really did not want to see the dwarves shot full of arrows. Though their words to him had not been kind, he did believe that they had been trying to help him, in their own way. "No, they did not hurt me."

"All right, then I shall be lenient with them. Will you remain here with Salque while I send the dwarves on their way?" Aldeon asked as he set the efling down onto the ground.

Legolas nodded. "Can I have something to eat? I have not eaten since breakfast, and my stomach lost the food that the dwarves gave me."

Aldeon looked stricken at his brother's admission. "I am afraid we did not pack food with us when we came searching for you. I am sorry, but I fear that you will have to remain hungry until we return home."

"The little one need not wait so long to fill his stomach. I have some waybread in my pack, and a small amount of dried fruits," Salque spoke up as he pulled out a small bundle from his pack.

"Dried fruits?" Legolas asked, his eyes brightening.

Aldeon laughed. "Salque, you have now instantly become Legolas' saviour for there is nothing he favours more than dried fruits."

"And I am very glad to be of service to the little prince. He and I shall get better acquainted with each other while you attend to your duties, Aldeon," Salque assured the older prince. Seeing the reluctance of the other elf at leaving his young brother, he added, "Worry not, I shall keep him safe until you return."

At this last statement, Aldeon smiled sheepishly. "Of course you will. I doubt not your ability, Salque, but the little one has just recently given me a great fright from which I am only beginning to recover. Thank you for your care of him, Salque."

Salque only smiled. "The pleasure is mine. I find him quite delightful."

"Yes, Legolas is that, and much, much more," Aldeon concurred with one wryly arched brow. With that, Thranduil's heir left his brother in the company of the other elf, the little one happily munching on waybread and dried fruits and asking endless questions of spiders all the while. It was apparent that his recent adventure left very little, if any at all, trauma on his brother. Aldeon smiled at the thought. Why was that not surprising?

The dwarves watched the approach of the tall, imposing elf with trepidation, the same elf who had fretted endlessly over the pint-sized elfling since his first arrival upon the scene. There was little doubt that this elf was in charge and that their fate was in his hands. Though the elves around them had lowered their bows, the dwarves knew that only one misstep was needed before the threat of targeted arrows renewed itself. They could only hope that the elfling had truthfully told this one of all that had taken place.

Aldeon tried to keep his face impassive as he stood before the stunted ones, his sense of smell assaulted by the one who was currently wearing his little brother's regurgitated meal on his jerkin and beard. His elven sense of fastidiousness, however, got the better of him and he nodded to one of the warriors.

"Escort him to the little creek that we passed by a short way back so that he can clean himself. A bit of soap will no doubt help the cause as well." Then turning to the affected dwarf, he explained in the Common Tongue what was to transpire.

The dwarf looked relieved that he would soon be rid of the remains of the unwanted meal, though he did mutter a string of half-audible dwarvish curses as he was herded away. A collected sigh of relief was heard from dwarves and elves alike once the less than fragrant one was no longer within breathing proximity.

"My brother has told me what has taken place," Aldeon turned to address the remaining dwarves. "I am content that you have done him no harm, though I wish to know why you have intruded upon our forested realm."

"We have no intentions of intruding upon your realm, but we have been chased by spiders for many days now. We had little choice but to move in whatever direction of safety that we could find," one of the dwarves spoke up.

"I see," Aldeon nodded. "It is true that there has been a recent surge of spider sightings in our forests, though I am certain you would not be plagued by them had you not ventured so near to these forests in the first place."

The dwarves looked at one another, but none could come up with a counter response to the implication voiced by the elf. They were not about to expose their original scheme of hunting down a deer or two in these woods.

Aldeon watched them closely. There was probably more to the story than being chased unwittingly into the forests by spiders, but he did not want to expend the time needed to extract the truth from these naugrims. "I shall accept what you say to be the truth, this time, as you did try to assist my brother, for which I thank you. You may stay here for the remainder of the day and tonight so that your injured companion might regain his strength, but I expect you to be gone by the morrow. Six of my warriors will remain behind to provide the sufficient escort that you need to find your way from our forests."

"We thank you for your aid," one of the dwarves said with a great reluctance in his tone.

Aldeon nodded. "I trust you will impress upon your people on your return as to how dangerous these forests can be and that none should venture within unless they are properly escorted by our warriors."

The dwarves nodded grudgingly. The warning could not be clearer. Future trespasses would not be treated with similar leniency.

Aldeon gave them one last sobering look before he made his way back to where Legolas was still conducting his animated interrogation of Salque of all creatures dark and evil that lived in the forests. It was time to return his little brother to their father who was no doubt beyond agitation by now.

TBC

See Chapter for disclaimer.

Chapter 5 - Facing the Consequences

Thranduil paced restlessly, sweeping by the great front doors time and time again as the two Palace Guards did their best to maintain their impassivity in their liege's current unsettled presence. Each knew better than to attract Thranduil's attention in any way when the King was in such a state of consternation. There were few in the Woodland Realm who could so agitate the Elven King, and Thranduil's last born was certainly prominent among those select few.

Thranduil stopped, as he had done so countless times before, and trained his eyes on the path that led from the outer gates to the expansive courtyard. The message that Legolas was safe and in the presence of his eldest had arrived more than two hours ago and Thranduil had been pacing for a better of part of the past hour, waiting anxiously for the return of his two sons. The warrior who had delivered the message had more than once assured the King that his youngest was safe and whole, and Thranduil had no reason to disbelieve him. Nevertheless, paternal instincts unequivocally demanded that he cradle the elfling once more in his very arms before all fears and uncertainties could be fully banished. Even as he longed to enfold his arms around his youngest, anger was slowly brewing within for the breathless fear that Legolas had subjected him to for the better part of this day.

Casting another stormy look at the path that refused to yield up those he awaited, Thranduil resumed his pacing, not caring that he was, at the moment, cutting a less than regal figure by such behaviour. As the minutes dragged by with agonizing slowness, his ire mounted in a manner that greatly outmatched the pace of time. Legolas would be properly punished this time, he vowed angrily to himself. The seriousness of his offence could not be ignored. He shall impress upon this child what an exacting and strict father he could be.

The sound of approaching hooves brought Thranduil's agitated pacing to an immediate halt. With narrowed eyes, he watched as the riders drew near, searching instinctively for and finding the familiar golden head. His breath stopped and his heart pounded furiously as he caught sight of the small figure cradled in the arms of his oldest. Anger evaporated and fear quickly filled the void as Thranduil flew down the steps toward his sons.

"Is he injured?" he demanded even before the horses had come to a complete stop.

"He is asleep, Adar," Aldeon said quickly. Seeing the unspoken command in his father's eyes, he handed the slumbering elfling into the other's anxious arms.

Sleepy blue eyes shifted slowly into semi-focus as Thranduil held his youngest close. A drowsy smile of recognition followed and small arms encircled the King's neck with a whisper of 'Ada'. The elfling let out a contented sigh and drifted back into reverie, secure in the feeling that he could be in no safer place.

"He is exhausted, Adar," Aldeon spoke quietly at his side. "The day's adventure was too much even for his stamina."

Thranduil found himself forcing back a very undignified grunt. "Adventure, indeed! Let us see how much stamina he has when he faces the punishment I have in store for him." The vehemence of his words was greatly curtailed by the tender kiss that was bestowed on the peaceful brows of the sleeping elfling.

Aldeon suppressed a smile. "Perhaps you may wish to postpone the punishment until the healer has had a chance to check over the gash on his leg, as well as the very colourful bruise that he is currently sporting on his back."

Thranduil's head snapped up at the newly delivered information, as his eyes took in for the first time the bandage that encircled the elfling's thigh. "He is injured then? How did it happen?"

"I do not believe the injuries to be serious, but you may wish to have that confirmed by Kala. As to how Legolas sustained those hurts, it might be best that he tells you the tale himself," Aldeon explained.

"Aye, let the elfling tell you himself. It will provide a most delightful tale," another voice chimed in.

"Salque!" Thranduil cried in joyous surprise. "My dear friend! You have returned!"

"Yes, I have returned, but our reunion must wait. First, you have an elfling to put to bed," Salque smiled. "Be assured that I shall be calling on you tomorrow, my lord, and to share with you a cup or two of your most famous vintage."

"I look forward to it, my friend," Thranduil smiled. "And you are right, this elfling must be my priority tonight. My real dilemma is whether I should smother him in hugs or throttle him just as happily."

Salque raised one expressive brow. "Shall I tell you, my lord? You would sooner throttle yourself than to hurt one hair on that elfling's head."

Thranduil smiled and shook his head. "I am afraid you are right. Aldeon, would you --"

His eldest preempted him with a touch to the shoulder. "I shall send for Kala to attend Legolas in his chambers."

"Thank you, Aldeon," Thranduil smiled gratefully.

"Until tomorrow then, my lord," Salque bowed and retreated.

Left to himself for the moment, Thranduil looked down at his child's peaceful visage. "Ai, Legolas, my heart, what am I to do with you?"

Clutching the elfling rather desperately to his chest, the King made his way down the hall to his child's chambers.

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Thranduil paused before the closed door as he listened to the sound of Legolas' infectious laughter, muffled in part by the thick wood. Despite the unhappy task before him, the King found his own lips curling at the joyous sound. Drawing in a deep breath to strengthen his resolve, Thranduil pushed open the door.

"Ada!" Legolas greeted him happily.

The other elf rose to his feet with a ready smile and bowed. "My lord."

Thranduil studied the other elf with a raised brow. "Should I be slighted that you should choose to call upon an elfling before you pay your homage to your king?"

Salque laughed. "No slight is intended, my lord. I merely wanted to assure myself of the wellbeing of the little prince before I call upon you for our promised reunion."

"Salque has been telling me wonderful tales, Ada," Legolas piped up. "I want to hear more."

"No doubt you do, but you and I need to have a talk," Thranduil said dryly. "And I am sure Salque will excuse us while we do so."

The smile immediately fell from Legolas' face. He had been foolish to hope that his ada had forgotten about his transgressions. "Yes, Ada."

Salque gave the elfling a sympathetic look. "I shall come back to visit you later, little one, if your ada would so allow."

Legolas nodded with an air of resignation. He doubted very much his ada would allow him to see anybody until the next turn of the moon.

Once they were alone, Thranduil sat himself into the chair that the other elf had so recently vacated. "Now, Legolas, what do you have to say?"

"I am sorry, Ada. I know what I did was wrong," Legolas said, peering at his father with anxious eyes.

Thranduil frowned. "If you know what you were doing was wrong, then why did you do it?"

"I wanted to see a spider so badly," Legolas said in a very small voice.

"Do you have any idea how deadly spiders are, Legolas? They have preyed upon our people time and time again. Well-seasoned warriors have perished under their attacks. What do you think those dark creatures will do to a lone, unarmed elfling like you?"

"I was only going to take a look. I would not have stayed long enough for them to harm me," Legolas countered.

"By you the time you set your sight upon a spider, the choice will not be yours whether you wish to stay or not. The spider will be upon you before you can draw your next breath, "Thranduil said dryly.

The elfling's eyes grew huge.

Thranduil felt a certain amount of satisfaction to see the fear on his son's face. Perhaps the elfling would learn his lesson after all, but there was more that he needed to impress upon his youngest. "What you did yesterday was beyond foolishness, Legolas. Not only did you expose yourself recklessly to danger and possible death, but your thoughtless act also forced me to send forth guards to search for you, guards whose duty is to protect the lives of our people. What would have happened if there was a threat to our people and there were insufficient guards to deal with that threat, because they were out searching for an elfling who had decided on a whim to seek out spiders? By doing what you did yesterday, you courted danger not only for yourself, Legolas, but also for others whose lives that we, as King and Prince of this realm, have a responsibility to protect. You have disappointed me, Legolas. I had thought that you held a greater sense of duty and responsibility to our people."

The sense of shame was overwhelming and tears spilled readily. "I am so sorry, Ada. I never meant to harm our people in any way. I did not think what I did would put others in danger or else I would have never done it. I am so very sorry, Ada. Please do not be disappointed in me. Please."

Seeing the tearful and repentant face before him, Thranduil ached to enfold the elfling into a comforting embrace, but he needed to be certain that Legolas truly understood the recklessness of his actions. "Being the son of a king, every action that you take has consequences that will affect all those around you. This is a responsibility that you can never forget. Trust and loyalty from our people are not what is by right owed to us. It is something that we must earn from them, through our actions and words. We therefore must never act or speak without thought or consideration of the consequences on others. Do you understand, Legolas?"

The elfling nodded vigorously, showering tear droplets generously upon the coverlet of his bed. "I must think of others before I do or say anything."

Thranduil nodded. "Do you think you can remember that the next time you are tempted to do something reckless and foolish?"

"I will try, Ada. I will try very hard," Legolas said with all earnestness.

"Come here, then, my heart." Thranduil reached out and pulled the elfling into his arms. Legolas sank eagerly into the much-needed hug, rubbing his tear stained face on his ada's robes. The fear that his ada would withdraw hugs, as a punishment, had been very real.

Thranduil smoothed his hand gently over fine golden hair of his youngest, and relished in the warmth of the small body cuddled in his arms, like a soothing balm to a troubled soul. For long moments, father and son enjoyed the quiet tranquility that each brought to the other.

At length, it was Thranduil who broke the silence. "You know I still have to punish you, Legolas."

The small golden head gave a reluctant nod. "I know, Ada."

"What do you think would be a suitable punishment?"

"I do not know, Ada," Legolas admitted truthfully as his fingers folded and refolded endlessly the rich cloth of his father's robes.

Thranduil thought for a moment. "Since you are so eager to enhance your knowledge of spiders, then you shall compose an essay for me, of all that you can learn of those creatures from the books in the library. That is in addition to the regular hours that you spend under Calanon's tutorage."

Legolas could not help but groan out loud. "But I already spend much of my day in the library with Calanon. I will not have any free time. I will have no time to practice archery."

Thranduil nodded. "That is correct. And when you have finished the essay on spiders, you can then do one on wargs and another one on dwarves so that you will never again confuse the two creatures again."

"But that will take forever! I will be spending all my waking hours in the library!"

Thranduil nodded again. "That is my intention. The more that you are engaged in beneficial ways, the less time you will have to dream up new mischief. The hours that you do not spend in the library, you will spend in your room. That will give you ample opportunity to reflect upon what transpired yesterday."

Legolas sighed in resignation. "Yes, Ada."

Thranduil's arms tightened around the elfling. "It gives me no pleasure to punish you, Legolas, but it is important that you learn from your mistakes. Perhaps next time you will not be so eager to give in to your whims."

There was a lengthy pause before Legolas asked cautiously, "Are you still disappointed in me, Ada?"

A voice shouted an astounding 'no' within Thranduil's heart, but he knew he could not give sound to it, not yet. "I am disappointed, though not nearly as much as I felt yesterday, as I can see that you are sorry for what you have done."

"Oh, I am sorry, truly sorry, Ada!" Legolas was quick to voice his affirmation.

Thranduil's hand found its way to the elfling's hair again and he caressed the silken floss with gentle strokes. "I believe my disappointment is lessening even as we speak. Perhaps it will be gone by the morrow."

Small arms encircled Thranduil's waist fiercely as his youngest buried his face into the thick pile of the King's robes. "I hope it will be gone by tomorrow, Ada. I will try not to disappoint you again, I promise."

Thranduil bent and kissed the half-burrowed head. "I am glad to hear that, my heart."

xxxxxxxxx

"Legolas has been confined to the library and his room for the much of this month," Aldeon said, as he took a slow sip of wine from his cup.

Father and son had spent the hours since their evening meal in the King's library, discussing various issues that had been the subject matter of the morning session with Thranduil's advisors. Having felt that sufficient time had been expended on the affairs relating to the realm, Aldeon decided it was time to turn to the concern that had been plaguing his heart for the past days.

Thranduil took a drink from his own cup. "He is being punished."

"I know, Adar, but do you not think the punishment has gone on for long enough? It has not been easy on him to be kept indoors for such a length of time. He misses his archery lessons fiercely."
"Has he made complaints to you?" Thranduil asked.

"No, but I can see that the confinement is wearing on him, nonetheless," Aldeon said quickly.

The King eyed the other elf rather wryly. "No doubt you can. If it were up to you, Legolas would never again be punished in any way. You are far too indulgent when it comes to your young brother, Aldeon."

His eldest smiled sheepishly. "I am his oldest brother. It is my right to indulge him in whatever ways that I can. I leave it to you, as his father, to carry out the elements of discipline in his life."

Thranduil's lips curled. "Aye, a balance of responsibilities. You dote, whereas I scold."

Aldeon smiled again and wisely made no response to his father's observation.

"Part of Legolas' punishment was that he should spend some time in his room, alone, to contemplate on his erroneous ways. But it would seem that he has spent very little time alone, not with you and Salque rotating shifts to keep him amused during those times of contemplation," Thranduil said mildly.

"Nothing escapes your attention, Adar," Aldeon laughed. "Surely, you did not expect me to abandon Legolas in his hour of need."

Thranduil laughed and shook his head. "With you hovering about Legolas, any punishment that I deal out to him would be for naught. And now you seem to have found an accomplice in Salque."

"Perhaps next time you should banish Legolas to the dungeons and set a guard upon him to ensure that he receives no visitors," Aldeon said, smiling widely.

"Perhaps I shall," Thranduil nodded. "If only to have my eldest rise up in arms against me for the harsh treatment of his youngest brother."

Aldeon chuckled out loud at this last statement. "And Salque will be right along my side. It would seem that your old friend has become very fond of Legolas."

"Yes, strangely enough, and Legolas seems to be equally taken with him." Thranduil's fingers tapped thoughtfully at his cup. "Perhaps we can take advantage of this mutual attraction between the two."

Aldeon dipped his head slightly. "I too have been thinking of the same thing. Perhaps Salque can be persuaded to take on a new role in your service."

Thranduil smiled slowly. "Perhaps if we bide our time, he will need no persuasion at all."

xxxxxxx

When Salque received the summons to attend upon the King, he had been in the constant company of the youngest prince for nearly two months. Nary a day went by without some time being shared between the elfling and the seasoned warrior. Once Legolas had completed the term of his punishment, it had become a common sight to see the two wandering about companionably, like shadows of one another, both inside and outside of the King's halls.

As Salque knocked on the finely carved door that led to Thranduil's private study, he could not help but feel a pang of apprehension as to the reason for this summons. It was likely that his King had for him a task to fulfill. He hoped that the assignment was not to take him far from the stronghold or that it required an extended absence. He had grown very fond of Legolas in the short time that they had know each other and it would sadden him to have to bid the elfling farewell so soon.

'My lord." He greeted his liege with a bow upon entering the room.

"Be at ease, my old friend. I am glad that you are able to find the time to attend me. I know your days have been much occupied." Thranduil handed his friend a goblet of wine.

Salque laughed. "Both you and I know how I have occupied my days since my return. I cannot say that I am sorry as to how my time has been spent."

Thranduil smiled, "You seem to have grown very fond of Legolas. I am glad, for both of your sakes."

"He is a delightful child. It has been long since I have come face to face with such engaging innocence as that which envelopes your son. It is akin to a breath of fresh air in the midst of darkness and shadows. You are truly blessed with this son, as you are with all your other sons. I must confess to an inkling of envy."

Thranduil laughed. "Envy me not. You have a daughter and I have not one. Let us say that we are both blessed in our own ways."

Salque nodded, smiling in concurrence. "We are both blessed then. That much we can agree on. However, you did not summon me today to discuss the joys of fatherhood. How may I serve you, my lord?"

Thranduil set down his cup carefully. "Aye, I do have a proposition for you, one that I hope you will accept."

"You are my king. You have but to command and I will follow," Salque affirmed.

Thranduil smiled. "Your words have just lifted a great burden from my shoulders. And now let me explain to you what you have accepted."

THE END.

A/N: Well, this is the end to another tale. I want to take this opportunity to thank you all for reading and a special thanks to those who took the time to leave me their valuable comments. They are greatly appreciated.