Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JRR Tolkien, various publishers including but not limited to Houghton Mifflin Co, Mariner Books, Ballantine Books, and New Line Cinemas. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Eryn Galen is Sindarin for 'Greenwood', which was the previous name of 'Mirkwood' before the Shadow started to fall on it. I have shifted Celebrían's death about through a fit of ignorance in a previous story but have stuck with it. As such, some feel that I should add a 'CAUTION: FANON' warning, so here it is.

Oodles of thanks to my wonderful beta, Kenaz!

x

A Precious Find

Casting worried glances at Elrohir, Elrond led the way through the rocky terrain. It was by sheer chance that he managed to stumble across Elrohir, riding his steed hard towards the High Pass with single-minded determination. His father's presence had gone unnoticed for a quarter of an hour, before Elrond decided to cut across his path. Even then, it had taken much persuasion and a few threats before Elrond managed to turn him around back towards Imladris.

Now, riding before his sullen son, Elrond sent a prayer to the Valar for strength to know how to handle Elrohir. At his best, Elrohir was angry and withdrawn. Elladan had tried to draw him out of his shell in all imaginable ways, but had found that his formerly gentle, good-natured brother was nowhere in sight as he bore Elrohir's ill-humoured outbursts with eroding patience.

The latest turn of events were provoked by the return of a patrol bearing multiple casualties. Among them had been a good friend of the twins, Gwenophor, so badly injured that the healers had told them not to hope for him. Elrohir had fled from the Houses of Healing, making it very clear that he wanted to be alone. Knowing that he would only lash out at them, Elladan had let him go with reluctance.

That evening, a frantic Elladan sought out his father to report that Elrohir had disappeared. Both then rode out in the hope of finding Elrohir before he reached his destination. The heavy rain had erased all his tracks, so the searchers had split up: Elladan going south, while Elrond had headed for the Misty Mountains. Both places had seen reports of rife Orc activity pouring in over the past few months, and Elrond knew Elrohir was seeking out as many Orcs as possible to exact his revenge upon the foul creatures for their attack on his beloved friend.

As chance would have it, Elrond came upon Elrohir near the foot of the mountain chain. The thought of finding Elrohir only after he had attempted to hew five hundred Orcs single-handedly was not one that Elrond relished, and he was relieved beyond measure.

"We stop for the night," Elrond said. "Alarin is close to dropping from exhaustion."

Elrohir dismounted without a word and leaned against his steed, staring at the ground with a clenched jaw.

Elrond's relief started to fade, and he suppressed a sigh and broke apart some lembas. Elrohir did not react when offered the bread, and so Elrond sat down and uncorked his water-skin, turning his options over in his mind.

"Will you not sit with me?" he said, trying to break the stony silence.

Elrohir took slow, reluctant steps toward him, before sitting down, crossing his legs and staring at a rock.

"It is a beautiful night. The rains have cleared the air," Elrond said.

When Elrohir still refused to answer, Elrond decided to take the plunge. He took a deep breath and said, "You scared us, Elrohir. Your Naneth would not have liked to see you this way --"

Elrond closed his eyes as Elrohir jumped up and sprinted away. He was weary and reaching the end of his patience. It had been years since Celebrían's attack, and subsequent sailing to the West, but Elrohir had yet to move on. Ever since Celebrían had been found, he had neither spoken of it to anybody nor shed any tears. Instead, he had had taken to slaying Orcs with mindless intent that scared even Elladan, who often rode with him in his attempts to kill as many goblins as possible.

Familiar feelings of hatred ate at Elrohir as he walked away from Elrond. He knew he was hurting his father, but found it so difficult to look him in the eye, not when he had brought about his mother's attack; when he had told her the Pass was safe to use for her trip back to Lorién. How could he face his family, when the images of his mother, of her pain, kept haunting him every time he looked at them?

He paused in his step as something caught his eye. Frowning, he stared at it, trying to decide if it were worth investigating. A minute passed, and then two, but curiosity got the better of him, and he approached it. A sudden glint of gold caught the moonlight, and Elrohir doubled his pace. His heart shot to his mouth as he saw a small figure slumped faced forward in the rocky terrain, clothes shredded, hair a matted mess.

Bile rose in his throat as he bent down. While death and destruction had never been far from him in recent years, this child touched him in a way he thought no longer existed.

Reaching out, he turned over the figure, and let out a loud gasp. Dried blood was caked to the side of the boy's head, and the lips were cracked and blue from cold. A quick glance over the rest of his body revealed fingers black from frostbite, and a strip of cloth around a forearm to bind a previous injury. Then, to his greatest surprise, Elrohir noticed the boy's ears: he was one of the first-born!

"Ada!" Elrond looked up, startled to hear Elrohir calling.

Running over, he saw his son was shaking and bent over something in the rocks.

"He is only an Elfling!" Elrohir spluttered, having difficulty getting the words out.

Elrond knelt beside the child, his heart going out to the boy instantly.

"He is still alive," Elrond said. Barely.

When Elrohir continued to stare at the Elfling with fear in his eyes, Elrond addressed him again, "Elrohir, I need you to fetch my herbs and bandages."

Elrohir rose and took a few steps back, unable to tear his gaze off the small figure. Why was he so affected by the sight? He was a warrior and should be accustomed to death and injury.

He is too young to know this type of pain. Grabbing what he needed, he managed to get his emotions under control as he returned.

"It is unusual for one so young to be on his own. Scout the area for any others," Elrond said.

Elrohir did as told, cursing himself for opening his heart to the child. Had he not learnt by now what would result of his foolish emotions?

"I see nothing that suggests the presence of others," Elrohir said, returning upon completing a through search of the area.

Before Elrond could answer, the boy took in a painful breath and stirred. Eyes creaked open to reveal cerulean orbs misted over in confusion.

"Hush." The word escaped Elrohir before he knew it, and the Elfling's eyes struggled to focus in on Elrohir's face.

"I need to set his leg, Elrohir," Elrond said.

Elrohir continued to hold the Elfling's gaze, as Elrond exerted a sudden force. Teeth clenched weakly on already bleeding lips, but not a sound escaped. There was a crack, and he passed back into unconsciousness.

"We need to get him back to Imladris; his frostbite needs further attention," Elrond said.

Elrohir nodded.

"Do you want to carry him, Elrohir?"

Elrohir turned to look at Elrond, and a wealth of information flashed across his eyes: gratitude, apology, pain, hope.

"Yes, Ada," he said, bending down to pick the Elfling up and he cradled him close. He wondered at how light his bundle was. The Elfling could not have been older than twenty.

Looking back to Elrond, Elrohir said, "Will he survive?"

"As long as we get him back to Imladris in good time."

Hard determination built up in Elrohir as he glanced down again: he would not let the boy slip through their fingers.

"Hang on, tithen pen -- little one --, we will bring you back to Imladris."

Unbeknownst to him, a hopeful smile spread across Elrond's face.

Back in Imladris, Elrohir was greeted at the gates by Elladan, who enveloped him in a hug, heedless of the bundle clutched to his chest.

"Roh, we were so worried for you!" he cried.

"I need to get him to the Houses," Elrohir said, trying free himself from the effusive embrace.

"Who is he?" Elladan said, as the twins strode down the hallways and he noticed his brother's burden for the first time.

"Ada and I came across him at the foot of the mountains. He has not woken."

"He is so small!" exclaimed Elladan, pulling back the blanket wrapping the small form.

"Ai, his parents must be worried sick about him." In his concern for the child, Elrohir seemed to forget his own pain and loss.

They reached the Halls of Healing, annexed to Elrond's house, and Elrohir stormed in, heading for the first empty room.

Ever dedicated to Elrond's service, the healers responded swiftly in spite of the late hour. Elrond came into the room half an hour later, where he found Elrohir working on the Elfling's frostbitten fingers while Elladan tended to a cut.

"Ada," Elladan said, moving aside. A brief look of mutual relief passed between them as Elrond risked a glance at Elrohir, bent over with concentration.

Elrohir looked up, startled, for he had been so engrossed that he had not noticed his father's arrival.

"It has been a long time since I used my healing skills," Elrohir murmured, almost to himself. "I thought I had forgotten how to use them."

"I think you will find them undiminished," Elrond said, moving over and taking Elladan's place.

*

When Elladan returned, he found Elrohir deep in thought, staring out of the window, his gaze travelling far beyond the silver rooftops.

"Roh, you should rest."

Elrohir spun around, a picture of veritable fury. "I am not some weak --"

"I was concerned for you, Roh. As you were for him."

Elrohir felt his insides knot at Elladan's calm response. This was Elladan, his twin, the other half of his soul. All he had done was to hurt him -- again -- after years of pushing him away, of attempts to cut the bond between them. He knew that Elladan was near the end of his patience, but felt that he could not bring himself to weaken his vow to force a wall between himself and those whom he loved.

"He is so small," Elrohir said.

"I made some enquiries, but nobody knew where he might hail from."

Elrohir pointed to a broken bow and sheathed knife on the windowsill.

"These were with him. The bow, while broken, was worthy of the best archers in Imladris, an unusual weapon for one so young. This knife is well carved, and I believe the handle is wrought of a mixture of mithril and white gold."

Elladan let out a low breath as he examined the blade.

"They are of Silvan origin."

"But he cannot be Silvan! It is too far away for him to have made it here on his own! The mountain would have killed him before he set foot on it!"

"Not unless he was with a party, and became separated from it," Elrohir said, his silver eyes flashing with anger, convinced that the Elfling had been a victim of the increase in Orcs in the vicinity of the Misty Mountains.

"There are no signs he had been attacked, Roh," Elladan said, aware that they were treading on dangerous ground. "There is naught you can do for him tonight. Take a rest."

Elrohir closed his eyes and nodded; he was so tired.

"Gwenophor has been asking for you," Elladan said, before leaving, missing the softening of Elrohir's features.

Left alone again, Elrohir approached the Elfling and stared at his face for a few minutes.

Letting out a sigh, he turned to leave, but a small, fretful whimper filled the room. Freezing, Elrohir turned around, and saw that the Elfling was tossing in his bed. He hesitated, but hardened his heart. What was he doing, allowing the Elfling to evoke such feelings in him?

All his reservations fled with the wind as the Elfling gave out a distressed wail.

"Baw! Nana! Not Nana!" the Elfling screamed and sat up in the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Elrohir clambered onto the bed and swept him up into an embrace, calming him with soothing words and stroking his trembling frame. He allowed the child to cling to him, before the blue eyes lost their focus, and the Elfling collapsed back into sleep, pressed closed to Elrohir in his fear.

Long after the Elfling calmed down, Elrohir tried to sooth his raging emotions. What he heard ripped open his soul and set it bleeding anew. Had the Elfling suffered the same, unbearable fate of having his mother torn from him? Why? Elrohir saw that the tears had yet to dry, and the Elfling's arms were still wrapped around him for comfort -- and protection.

But how could he protect the Elfling when he had failed in his duty to keep his mother from harm? A burning desire to know the story behind the strange discovery rose in him, and Elrohir bent down to brush a tendril of damp hair away from the small face. The Elfling let out a low moan, and without thinking, Elrohir placed a kiss on his forehead. The furrowed brow eased, before the Elfling calmed down and passed on to a more restful sleep.

*

Elrohir woke to a gentle touch to his shoulder. He tried not to wince as stiff muscles protested at their ill-treatment of the past week. His head felt fluffy and confused, and he struggled to recall why he was lying in unfamiliar surroundings.

He was aware of Elrond staring down at him, and tried to sit up. An additional weight caused him to look down, and he saw that the Elfling was pressed up against him, still asleep. He had burrowed his face against Elrohir's neck, and his shallow breath tickled Elrohir's sensitive skin.

"Ada," Elrohir whispered.

"You were here all night."

"Yes," Elrohir said. He had not the heart to untangle himself from the Elfling, and so remained where he was. "Nightmares were assailing him. I did not want to risk him hurting himself."

When Elrond did not answer, Elrohir spoke again, "He was so scared, Ada!"

"I am glad you were there when it happened, then." For the both of you.

"Did you manage to find anything of his origins?"

"No, Elrohir. Nobody knows where he might hail from."

"We will have to wait for him to wake up, then."

"Indeed. However, I believe you are much in need of a long bath. I do not want to risk infection to his wounds from week-old dirt."

The corners of Elrohir's mouth twitched in a way so unfamiliar to him as he disengaged himself, ignoring the distressed noise that escaped the Elfling.

"I do not want you back until you have rested properly and spoken with Elladan and Gwenophor."

"You will let me know, Ada --"

"Yes, ion. I will send for you if he wakes up."

*****
Sindarin Translations:
Baw -- no
Nana -- mummy
Ion -- son

A/N: The Elfling's age here is equivalent to just under 10 years old in human terms.

So here's Chapter 2, with the Elfling waking up. I hope the little one isn't too cloyingly cute as can sometimes be the case, and as always, feedback is always welcome. I will be going away on an extended break for Easter, having finally got my act together to go inter-railing, so don't expect any posts for a while yet.

Elrohir returned early that evening, and was disappointed to see that the Elfling was still unconscious. He had rested for the better part of the day before visiting the recuperating Gwenophor in his chambers. Elladan had been there too, and while the meeting had been a far cry from the loud, raucous gatherings so common to the twins and their friends, Elladan was glad to see that Elrohir's frosty, angry demeanour was starting to thaw. He had even shown concern for Gwenophor's injuries, something which he had not been known to display in many years.

Three days had passed in this manner, with Elrohir dividing his time between Gwenophor and the Elfling. He remained reserved and aloof, though, hardly volunteering any conversation unless spoken to. Yet, there was something new in the way he was carrying himself, in the way he beheld the Elfling with a thoughtful air, that spoke of a change in the air.

This evening, Elladan watched Elrohir pace the room while Elrond examined the Elfling.

"How is he?" Elrohir blurted out, unable to contain himself any further as Elrond took longer than he would have liked.

"These are serious injuries, Elrohir, and will need time to heal."

Elrohir stiffened as he remembered his oath. What was he doing, fretting over a complete stranger in this way? Yet, there was something about the innocence of one so little that held an inexplicable draw, something akin to a calling to what he thought was his deadened heart.

"I must go," Elrohir said, striding to the door.

"What will happen if he wakes up? What happens if he has another nightmare?" Elladan said.

Elrohir's eyes dropped as he struggled with himself, even though he knew Elladan had trumped him. In spite of his efforts, Elladan still managed to read his thoughts and discern his concern for the Elfling.

"He will like to have you around if he awakes," Elrond said. "It seems your very presence is a comfort."

"Yes, I know," Elrohir all but snapped, before throwing himself into a chair, where he stared ahead, biting a nail, thinking.

"I will keep you company lest you get bored," Elladan said, seizing the opportunity that presented itself.

Elrond left the room, and Elrohir's gaze was drawn to the Elfling again. He studied the slumbering form, and Elladan noted how his usually angry and drawn brow softened.

"There were so few of us born after the war," Elrohir said after a long while.

"Our people are leaving Arda. Our age is drawing to a close."

Elrohir looked up, startling Elladan with the savage bitterness in his silver eyes.

"Perhaps it is right that we leave, then! Our immortality is only a burden here!"

"Roh, please!"

"I speak the truth!"

"Then look at him and tell me he is a burden! That he is unwelcome to this world!"

Satisfaction flashed on Elladan's face as Elrohir fell silent. Elrohir was not impervious to emotions, as much as he would like to be.

"Please, Roh. It has been long enough. You have run long enough. Come back to me."

For a moment, it seemed as if Elrohir was going to give in, when a sudden wall slammed down in front of his eyes, shutting himself off from Elladan again.

"What are you trying to achieve, muindor?"

"I have sat and watched you fall into a deepening chasm of hatred and self-loathing for long enough, Roh! Naneth would have despaired to see you like this!"

Elladan braced himself for an explosion that never came. Instead, Elrohir's defiant gaze dropped to the floor, and something that spoke of defeat crept into his posture.

"Naneth would have despaired at a lot of things, Dan."

A stirring on the bed drew their attention to the Elfling, and Elladan thought that he espied worry on Elrohir's face.

"He is waking up, and Ada should be informed," Elladan said.

"He is too young for this," Elrohir muttered under his breath, before rising to sit on the bed while Elladan left.

"Rest," Elrohir said as the Elfling opened his eyes to stare at him.

The smooth features knotted, and the Elfling spoke, "Are you one of the Valar?"

His voice was lilting and strange to Elrohir's ears, but befitting his delicate form. There was something earthy, yet sweet about it, calling to mind layers of green and meltwater in spring.

The corners of Elrohir's lips twitched. He had been called many things by admirers and detractors alike in his time, but this was a first.

"Nay, tithen pen -- Little one --."

Blue eyes flickered around the room, taking in the hues of silver and the airy windows.

"Am I in Aman?"

Elrohir's heart skipped a beat. Why was he talking about the white shores? He was still a child!

"No."

"Are we far from the sea?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I must go there."

Elrohir reached out and soothed his crinkled brow. "You will be going nowhere for now, tithen pen."

Disappointment filled the Elfling's face.

"Does it hurt?" Elrohir said.

The despondency was replaced by defiance.

"No."

Elrohir almost smiled.

"Those are serious injuries, and will take time to heal."

A frown worked its way to the Elfling's brow.

"I would that they would do so soon so I can resume my journey!"

"We have yet to be introduced to one another. I am Elrohir."

The Elfling blinked in surprise.

"You are Elrond's son! A Lord of Imladris!"

"Yes, I am."

"We are in Imladris?"

The door opened, and Elrond entered, followed by Elladan.

"Yes," Elrond said, smiling.

"It is strange to see the twin lords of Imladris in the same room at once," the Elfling said.

"It is rarer still that you show no surprise upon seeing them," Elrond said.

"I learnt of them during my history lessons."

"History?" Elladan cried, choking with indignation.

"Ai, although I believe stories of you were told by my tutor to pique my waning interest in dusty old ellon. After all, your deeds among the Men of Bree are legendary."

"As one of those dusty old ellon, I am afraid I will have to cut short your conversation and insist you get some rest," Elrond said, a gentle smile tugging at his features. "Before you do so, I need to know your name and from where you hail. Your family must be very worried to find your missing."

"But I need to go West!" the Elfling said. This must be the great High-Lord of Imladris himself, who would surely send him home if he were to find out his identity. He had heard stories of Elrond's strange powers, and it surprised him that he had not sought to look into his mind to find the truth already.

"Maybe another time, Ada," Elrohir said, seeing that the Elfling was fighting to keep himself from grimacing from pain. He reached for a goblet of hot water infused with herbs and passed it to the Elfling.

"Do not worry, you are safe in Imladris."

The Elfling's eyelids grew heavy as the herbs took their effect. His brain was hazy, but he needed to thank the Imladrin Elves.

"My name is Lass," he muttered. "That is what Nana calls me."

Elladan felt a shudder that stemmed from Elrohir as the Elfling passed into sleep.

"I do not like this," Elladan said, turning to Elrond to seek his opinion.

Elrond took some time to fix his hazel gaze on Elrohir, before he said, "His injuries are due to the elements. I do not think his life is under threat from any -- save himself."

"It makes no sense!" Elrohir cried. "Why is he hiding his identity from us? I know he trusts us, but there is something he wishes to keep from us!"

"Perhaps we should concentrate on healing his physical wounds first, and speak of the rest later," Elladan said.

"His name is Lass," Elrohir said, falling into a reverie again.

"Part of his name, at least," Elladan said.

Elrohir emitted a long sigh. "I will spend the night with him. I do not wish him to be alone should he be caught in another nightmare."

Behind Elrohir's back, Elladan and Elrond exchanged relieved smiles.

*****
Sindarin Translations:
Muindor -- brother
Tithen pen -- little one
Ellon - (male) Elves

A/N: Hello all, and I hope you've been enjoying the spring-like conditions, although if you are here in Europe you will probably have been scowling at the dark clouds which come out every few minutes to remind us that sunshine can so easily be taken away from us. Forgive me for the mad rambling, but I am currently still set to Holiday mode, and the giddiness from having spent hours on trains every day has yet to wear off. But as promised here is the chapter, and the changes in Elrohir are becoming more apparent. As always, I hope you enjoy it, and do let me know what you think!

It was almost midday when Elrohir was roused by a stirring in his arms. Sunlight streaming into the room hurt his eyes, and it took him a while to realise the late hour. There was more movement, and he saw that the Elfling was starting to awaken. Nightmares had assaulted the little one again that night, and he had woken in the dark of the night, screaming for his mother. Elrohir had held him tight, smoothing away his tears, and sang to him long after he had fallen back into sleep.

The Elfling yawned, blinked, and snuggled his head deeper into the curve of Elrohir's neck. For the first time in years, a smile spread across Elrohir's face, and an alien sense of felicity descended over him.

"Good morning, Roh," Elladan said, and Elrohir almost jumped to see him sitting in a chair by the bed. Elrohir greeted Elladan with an inclination of the head and a questioning gaze.

"I am glad to see the wounds healing," Elladan said, rising. "Ada left for the Shire this morning, and left Erestor in charge."

"The Shire is on the way to the sea!" the Elfling said, suddenly alert.

Elrohir smiled again, and tried to entangle himself from the Elfling.

"I had not realised you were awake, Lass-tithen -- little leaf --."

The Elfling's eyes grew wide, and there was a sense of desperation beyond their surprise.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

"Sorry?"

For a moment, the Elfling's brow furrowed, but he pushed it away and struggled to gain some composure.

"Only Nana ever called me that. She always said I was her little leaf."

"I apologise. I did not know," Elrohir said, wondering why he felt such a sudden sense of dread whenever the Elfling mentioned his mother.

"I like it. May I call you Roh, then?"

Elrohir chuckled. Faced with such a bright, open face before him, something swelled in his chest, and he found himself smiling again.

"Of course," he said, kissing the Elfling on his crown. "Now, would you like some breakfast?"

Elladan beamed, gladdened by Elrohir's transformation. Just a week ago, he had been despairing at ever getting Elrohir back to his old, cheery self, but today, the weariness that weighed him down was far and remote in the crisp morning air with the sun streaming in through the windows.

Left alone with the Elfling as Elladan rushed to the kitchens, Elrohir regarded him for a minute. There was something intriguing about the boy that he could not quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was the way he tried so hard to speak like an adult for one so young.

"How are you?"

A red flush rose in the Elfling's cheeks.

"I am fine! Do not treat me like --"

"A child?" Elrohir said, not removing his gaze.

The Elfling's eyes dropped, and he muttered something under his breath.

"From where do you hail?" Elrohir said.

The Elfling looked up, and for the first time, his lip trembled, while a look of uncertainty came across his face. This was Elrohir, a mighty Lord of Imladris, who would laugh if he told him the truth: that he was a son of Kings, that Legolas of Eryn Galen, son of King Thranduil, was waking up in the middle of the night, crying, from dreams that he could not even remember. He would be a disgrace to his father and his people, and he must not ever allow any of Lord Elrond's family to find out.

"I cannot tell you."

Disappointment lined Elrohir's face.

"I only want to help you."

Legolas frowned. "Thank you for saving me, but I cannot and will not tell you. Perhaps your kindness will be repaid one day."

Elladan appeared with a large breakfast tray, and chuckled when he saw the identical look of anticipation that dawned upon both their faces.

Elrohir made a brief check of Legolas's injuries before allowing him to sit up in bed and handed him a bowl of porridge, which he wolfed down with enthusiasm.

The rest of the day passed by pleasantly, and the twins found themselves being forced to regale their young patient with tales of Imladris. It was their first real interaction with Legolas, and they both found him to be charming, gentle and intelligent. Even Elrohir was ceasing to think of events that had plagued his mind over the last few years as he named the many tributaries of the Bruinen, and spoke at length about the early adventures of the twins.

After a light dinner, Legolas pleaded exhaustion and asked to be left alone. Despite his misgivings about the nightmares, Elrohir left, not wanting to hurt his pride by doubting whether Legolas would be able to spend the night on his own. So, he had placed a kiss on the Elfling's forehead and left the room, allowing himself to recall the feeling of the small child's arms around his neck as he was bidden good night.

*

It was just past midnight when Elrohir's anxiety grew too much for him to bear, and he yielded to his urge to check on the Elfling. Mayhap he had woken up in the middle of the night needing a glass of water. He would not know how to light the lamps nor find the pitcher of water Elrohir had set down in the adjacent sitting-room.

Just like an old lady, he thought to himself as he pushed open the door.

He let out a muttered curse as he saw the empty bed. A quick search of the room revealed the long dagger to be missing and a hastily-scrawled note thanking the twins for their hospitality and imploring them not to seek him out.

Charging down the corridor to Elladan's room, Elrohir almost screamed in frustration. How could he have let this happen? He should have sensed that Legolas had simply been trying to send him away so that he could flee.

"Dan!" he shouted when Elladan opened the door, face hazy with sleep.

"Calm down, Roh," Elladan said, taking his shoulder while trying to discern what the matter was.

"Lass has run away!" Elrohir said, more coherent this time.

Elladan sprung into action, pulling on his clothes and weapons as Elrohir paced his room like a caged bear.

"Relax, Roh. He will not have gotten far."

"I only hope that he has not! I should have known he would not be so easily dissuaded! After all, one as determined as to get --"

"Roh, you cannot help him in this state. Let us check the stables first."

Elladan's level-headed assessment of the situation proved to be accurate, as they found that a small white mare had been sprung from the stables.

"We can track him easily if we knew which direction he was headed in," Elladan said as they leapt onto their own steeds.

"West," Elrohir said. "He wanted to go to the sea."

Three hours later, the twins had yet to catch up with Legolas. Elrohir was about to remark on how fast the Elfling had gone when their keen eyes spotted a rider in the distance. As they drew closer, the moonlight revealed that it was indeed Legolas hugging her back, his golden hair reflecting the pale light that lit up the plains.

Urging their steeds on, it was a while before they managed to catch up.

Elrohir let out a loud whistle as they drew closer, and the white mare startled upon hearing his familiar voice. In doing so, her half-conscious rider slid off her back, meeting the earth at horrifying speed.

Elrohir jumped off his own horse, and picked Legolas off the ground. He was relieved to see there were no other injuries save for a rising bump on the small Elf's head.

"Why did you come?" Legolas croaked as he opened his eyes to see Elrohir staring down at him.

"Had we been any later, you would have killed yourself from this foolishness!" Elladan cried.

Elrohir shot him a glare to silence him as he turned back to Legolas.

"Come, Lass, you are hurt. Let us return to Imladris."

"I cannot!" Legolas cried.

"Stop this stubbornness of yours!" Elladan said, but Elrohir cut him off.

"You are cold, Lass."

Legolas drew in a shaky breath of air.

"I must go West. I need to go to Nana."

Elladan and Elrohir looked as if they had been struck down as comprehension hit them: he was trying to reach Aman to be reunited with his mother.

Recovering his composure, Elrohir wrapped Legolas up in his cloak and held him close.

"Not now, Lass. Not until you have recovered."

"Please --" Legolas said.

"Rest." Elrohir placed a palm over his eyes and sent out a wave of magic, causing Legolas to sink into sleep.

Standing, Elrohir turned to face Elladan.

"Careful, Roh. We do not know the whole story," Elladan said.

Elrohir scowled. "I know what I heard. He is so young, but is made to feel the pain of separation."

"The only thing we can do is to make sure his wounds heal, and that he does not try to leave again. The rest will come in time."

"I only hope that it would be so."

*****
Sindarin Translations:
Lass-tithen -- little leaf
Nana -- mama/mummy

A/N: Legolas's identity is revealed (although I admit it was fairly obvious), as is his motivation for running away. Let me know if you think his refusal to tell his name to the Imladrin Elves is too unbelievable.

"Roh, I am sorry. Do not be angry," Legolas said, staring at Elrohir with wide eyes.

Elrohir's hard countenance took on more feeling as he melted again at the sight of the little Elfling pleading with him.

"I am not angry with you, Lass."

"You have been very quiet."

"I have been simply thinking."

Legolas waited. He had woken when they arrived back in Imladris, where Elrohir had brought him back to the Halls of Healing without uttering a word.

When Elrohir did not answer, Legolas pressed on, "Of what?"

"My mother," Elrohir said, startling himself. He had never spoken of Celebrían prior to this, and was surprised that he could still bring himself to do so. After all, he had only snapped at his brother and father every time they spoke of her to him.

Legolas's face fell and he turned away from Elrohir. Just thinking of his Nana made him feel so hollow, as if somebody had taken a knife and scraped out every last piece of his insides.

"I have never seen your mother before," Legolas said.

"What happened to your Nana, Lass?"

It was a long time before Legolas spoke.

"She sailed West -- without me."

A shiver ran through Legolas as he turned away so that Elrohir could not see his face. Elrohir reached out for his arm, making him turn back. Legolas was biting his lips, and struggling very hard to compose himself.

"I do not understand why she left me," Legolas choked, biting back a cry.

Seeing Legolas fighting back his tears, Elrohir too felt a lump in his throat forming. He had thought all these years that he had forgotten how to cry, but here he was, staring at a young Elf he barely knew, and trying to keep his eyes from moistening.

"Why did she leave me behind? I would have agreed to go with her if she had asked me."

Elrohir pushed aside the covers and sat beside Legolas.

"Tell me what happened."

"I do not know," Legolas said. He pressed his face to Elrohir's hard chest and drew in a deep breath. "She was lying in the great hall, asleep, and would not wake when I tried to rouse her. They placed her in the ground and covered her, and many people were crying. They told me she had left us, that I would perhaps see her again in Aman."

Elrohir's vision clouded over. Here was an Elfling so young that he did not understand what had transpired, for how could you explain death to a child who was born to eternal life? Legolas's mother had died, but he could not understand it, instead believing she had sailed over to Aman. How could Elrohir explain the finality, the unnaturalness of death to him who had meant to live forever?

"I am sorry, Roh."

"Whatever for?" Elrohir said, astounded.

"I just am."

Feeling his throat parch, Elrohir hugged him closer.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, and whatever the reasons for your Nana's leaving, it had nothing to do with you."

"But I miss her so much!"

Elrohir squeezed Legolas tighter, and dropped a kiss on his head. "So do I, Lass."

The long silence that fell between them was broken as Legolas looked up at Elrohir, reverent admiration on his flushed face.

"When did your Nana leave?"

"Years ago."

Elrohir felt a shudder run through Legolas.

"She must have been very kind and beautiful -- like you."

Elrohir had to turn his face away so that Legolas could not see the tear that slid down his cheek. Instead, he tried to compose his thoughts and help the Elfling with his problems.

"Promise me one thing, Lass."

"I will not run away again if you promise not to find out where I come from."

"Your family will be so worried."

"I cannot go back. I will not go back."

Elrohir saw the determination in his eyes, and realised that Legolas would flee again should any attempt to enquire about his identity be made.

"You should rest," Elrohir said, not willing to make a decision without consulting Elrond first. He made to disentangle himself from Legolas.

"Roh?" Legolas said, sounding as small as he was.

"Yes?"

"Can you stay here with me tonight? I do not wish to be alone."

*****

A/N: I am falling increasingly in love with my characters - is that worrying? There is something so heart-breaking in the way Legolas and Elrohir feed off each other that makes me wish I had my own Elrohir to protect me from everything.

Elrohir let out a loud chuckle as he watched the screaming maiden run through the gardens. A moment later, something collided into him, almost knocking him over.

"Elbereth!" Elrohir cried, taking a few steps back to appraise the situation.

Elladan joined them, grinning in a way not seen since the Peredhil terrors had wrecked youthly havoc on Imladris.

"Sweet Valar," Elrohir said again, the corners of his lips turning upwards.

"Hullo, Roh!" Legolas said, a bright smile on his face. He took a step closer to Elrohir, and let out a peal of laughter when Elrohir inched away from his mud-splattered self.

"What did you do?" Elrohir said, turning to Elladan.

"'Twas him!" Elladan said, pointing at Legolas in mock horror.

Elrohir stared at Legolas, torn between admiration and bewilderment. He was covered from head to toe in mud and Valar knew what else, and had also run through a barn full of chickens by the look of it.

"Dare I ask?" Elrohir said.

"Something involving many chickens, a few goats, and a good serving of Ada's private store of feywine. And, not forgetting, of course, a few good sacks of Glorfindel's prized fertiliser."

"I did not know the great Balrog-slayer was a gardener!" Legolas said, laughing. "Where is he?"

"He is visiting his daughter and wife in Lorién," Elladan said as Elrohir tried to take in the information without laughing too hard.

"He has a wife and a daughter?" Legolas said. "I never knew that!"

"You did not wait for me?" Elrohir said, his awe turning to ire.

Legolas shrugged. "You were asleep."

"And pray tell why was I asleep?"

Legolas had the grace to blush as he pretended not to hear what Elrohir said. Elrohir had spent most of the last night convincing a livid head chef that he should continue in the employ of Elrond's household after a certain Elfling had switched his baking soda and plain flour stores, resulting in a minor explosion in the ovens, destroying a prized pastry that had taken the better part of a week to prepare. Eressar prided himself on his culinary skills, and had been furious at having to settle for serving substandard fare for supper while the servant girls had to be calmed down and the mess cleaned up.

"Your selective deafness acting up again?" Elladan said, trying to hide his grin from Legolas.

"Something tells me a bath is in order," Elrohir said, staring down at Legolas with a raised eyebrow.

Legolas giggled and was about to run off when Elrohir grabbed him firmly by the arm.

"I can hardly see your face," Elrohir said, leading him back to the house.

He reached out and wiped some mud off Legolas's face, drawing a squeal of protest.

"All the better for me to disguise myself with!" Legolas said.

"I believe that is enough for today, tithen pen -- little one --. There is only so much Imladris can take without me having to fight off those who wish to flay you alive!"

Legolas muttered and grumbled his way back indoors, while Elladan watched them depart with a smirk on his face. Two weeks had gone by since Legolas had tried to run away. True to their words, Elrohir had not tried to pry into Legolas's identity, and the little one had not attempted to run away again. Instead, a deep friendship had formed between the trio. It surprised him that Elrohir had accepted Legolas's friendship and admiration without a second thought, but that did not stop his heart from bursting with happiness -- Elrohir was beginning to smile again. Just the day before Elrohir had sat up with him late into the night after Legolas had fallen asleep and talked of inconsequential matters -- just as they were wont to do in better times.

Another grin spread itself across Elladan's face as Elrohir's voice floated back up to him.

"No, Lass. There will be no more going out for you today. The clouds are closing in, and the storm will hit the valley with great force. I will not risk you going out there and incurring more damage!"

*

Elrohir opened the door and embraced Elrond.

"Ada! It is good to have you back."

A thunderclap sounded.

"How are you, Elrohir?" Elrond said, his smile wider than it had been in years when he saw that Elrohir's expression was no longer bitter and angry.

"Worn out trying to prevent Lass from destroying Imladris!"

"You are trying to stop him?" Elrond said. Elrohir's mischief-making was legendary among Imladris's once much-beleaguered citizens.

"I fear he might be more than my match."

Elrond's face turned a shade more sombre.

"It is about him that we must speak of."

A frown worked its way to Elrohir's face as he felt something about to be sprung on him.

"What about?" he said, some of his wariness returning.

"We need to find his family," Elrond said.

Elrohir's chin stuck out, and Elrond saw that he was in for a struggle. Taking Elrohir's hand, he led him into the room and shut the door behind them.

"Elrohir --"

"I promised him that we would not do that, Ada!"

"His family would be worried!"

"But he does not want to go back to them! Why would any child wish for that unless there was nothing to go back for?"

"Perhaps his mind has been clouded by loss."

"Why do you say so? He seems fine to me!"

"Does he?"

"Yes! Just today --"

"What is he like at night?"

Elrohir bit back his retort as he saw Elrond's reason.

"He --"

"Are there still nightmares?" Elrond said, his tone still calm.

"Yes." Elrohir's gaze dropped. Why had his father have to always make so much sense? "Just last night he came to my chambers, afraid, and I had to let him sleep with me. I had left him in his room, but he still fears being alone."

Elrond let out a long sigh.

"Why, Ada? I thought he was healed, after all his daytime antics!"

"He is rancorous to make up for the emptiness in his heart. It is why we must return him to his family soonest."

"And if he refuses to return?"

"We need to encourage him to grieve, Elrohir. 'Tis only natural for children to mourn the loss of a parent."

The cold feeling in Elrohir's stomach refused to abate, especially when he knew that Elrond was referring to himself.

"There is something I have been wanting to give you, Elrohir," Elrond said.

Elrohir's frozen watchfulness did not deter him, and Elrond reached out to press a pendant into Elrohir's palm.

"Ada!" Elrohir cried when he saw what it was.

Elrond's eyes were glistening as he regarded his younger son. "I gave it to your Naneth the day you and Elladan were begotten. She left it behind when she sailed West, and told me she wished for you to have it."

"Why?"

"Because she loves you, Elrohir."

"But I was the one!"

Elrond continued to gaze at him, waiting for the long-overdue outburst.

"I told Nana it was safe to use the Pass!"

Everything fell into place for Elrond. Elrohir's behaviour: his anger, his withdrawal from his family; all of it made sense in the light of his declaration. Celebrían had taken the High Pass en route to her mother's home in Lorién in spite of the many warnings they had received about Orc activity, and none of them had been able to understand why -- until now.

Elrond wrapped Elrohir up in his arms, and Elrohir fell into it, letting himself be touched by the love of his father again. And Valar, did he miss allowing another's concern and love warm him, especially when the feelings were so unconditional.

"She spoke to me of her fears for you, Elrohir. She did not want you to harbour your hatred and your guilt."

The pendant seemed to be burning in Elrohir's hand, and he clutched at it, worried that it would disappear if he did not. Elrohir was the closest of the three to Celebrían, and she had always doted on him, for his strong, passionate character appealed to her more gentle and sedate one.

"I could not even bring myself to speak to her ere she left, Ada! I did not want her to go alone, but I dared not tell her I wished to go with her!"

"It was her choice not to have any of us go with her, Elrohir. Much remains in Arda for us to stay for. She believed your eyes had not yet been brightened by the joys of this world, and it is for that I stayed behind with my children, to show them to love their home."

"But Ada, it was I --"

"It was never your fault, Elrohir, even if you had told her to use the Pass."

"But if I had not told her --"

"Going by your reasoning, I should have sent Imladris's entire Guard with her, you, Arwen or Elladan wherever you go! We try to protect those we love, and grieve, mourn, cry if we fail, but never should we turn the anger and hate inwards and direct it towards ourselves."

"I am sorry, Ada."

"There is nothing wrong in caring for someone and wishing them to be safe. You should not fight your concern for Lass. He needs you, Elrohir, just like you need him. The minds of the Valar work in strange ways that we can only guess at. It is all but a possible path that has been taken."

Elrohir gave a small smile. "You speak in riddles again, Ada."

"It is because I do not know myself, ion. It is true that I have tried to gather clues of his identity by looking into his future, but all I have seen are fleeting, blurred images that I cannot read. One speaks of his birthright, another of his doom. All are tied to your fate."

"It matters not who he is, Ada. All I want to do is to help him."

"You have."

"Then will you promise me not to seek out his family until he consents to it?"

"If you believe it will help him, yes."

"I do not know the answer."

"Neither do I."

*****
Sindarin Translations:
Naneth -- Mother
Nana -- Mama/mummy
Ion -- son

A/N: Elrohir's finally come clean on what has been eating at him, and also stopped pretending that he still cares for others. A lot of unresolved issues with Legolas remain, though. That was a great chapter to write, especially when the characters are writing themselves, and thanks for all the encouragement thus far.

Crouching behind the tapestry, Legolas held his breath as he heard Elrond cross the room and towards the door. Had he been spotted? Every muscle in his body was tensed up, and he shrank further behind his hiding place and another loud thunderclap roared through the air.

Making use of the distraction, he turned around and fled, angry tears stinging his eyes. How dare he? How could he? Elrohir had lied. His Elrohir, whom he always thought he could trust, whom he wanted to trust, had broken his promise! He had given Legolas his word never to enquire about his family, never to pry, and now he was going to. He would find out all about Legolas's father, and the shame it would bring on Eryn Galen would be immense. Even Elrohir could not be trusted. He thought he meant something to Elrohir, he wanted to. But now, it was clear that he had been wrong. Only his Nana loved him, and he wanted her so badly. He was weak, he needed to go back to her -- and he would do so, now.

*

Elrohir charged down the corridors, Elladan close behind him. The storm had broken with a vehemence that was rare even in the open, unprotected vale of Imladris, and Legolas was out there in it.

"We will find him, Roh," Elladan said, as they pulled their cloaks over their heads and stepped out into the rain.

Fat pellets of rain hurled down at the twins with such a force that it hurt, but they ignored it and doubled their pace.

"He cannot have gone far," Elladan said, while Elrohir maintained his stoic silence, attempting to fight down his fear.

It was Elladan who had discovered Legolas's disappearance this time. Elrohir had grown very quiet upon hearing the news, and they had given the household a thorough check to make sure Legolas was not hiding with another trick up his sleeve. When that yielded a blank, it became clear that Legolas had fled again, and so the twins had left word with a servant to inform Elrond while they hurried out in search of him.

"We must tell him the truth," Elladan said as they reached Imladris's entrance, having ascertained that Legolas had not taken a steed again this time. "He cannot live without knowing the truth of his mother's death!"

"First we have to find him," Elrohir said, speaking for the first time. "We should split up."

"Yes Roh," Elladan said. "You will feel my relief should I to find him."

Elrohir turned and set off in a sprit without a word, fighting the storm, refusing to be beaten. Images of the little Elf being tormented by the elements kept coming to his foremost thoughts, but he swept them aside, trying to concentrate on locating him.

A sudden thought sprang to his head, and Elrohir took a sharp turn east. Legolas was intelligent enough to know that his disappearance would not have gone unnoticed for long and that the twins could travel a lot faster than him on foot were they to go in pursuit.

He was rewarded a good while later when a shadowy figure materialised in the distance which Elrohir knew to be Legolas straight away.

Hurrying up, he wrapped his arms around Legolas.

Legolas jumped, for he had not heard Elrohir approach. He struggled while Elrohir spun him around. A hood was pulled over his head, but it was not enough to keep the rain out, and his wet hair clung to his face.

Elrohir dropped to one knee so that they were on the same level, ignoring Legolas's distressed resistance.

"Let go of me!" Legolas cried, his child's angry voice almost drowned out by the heavy pounding of rain.

"You are coming back with me," Elrohir said, equally determined.

"I will not!"

"Lass, do not break your promise."

Anger flashed across Legolas's face, and he hit out at Elrohir with a fist, striking his chest.

"You broke yours! You lied!"

"This is a mistake, Lass! At least wait till the storm subsides before you decide to be angry with me. Will you not come back to Imladris? Will you not trust me?"

Legolas's gaze dropped and his bit his inside cheeks to keep from crying. "I wanted to, Roh."

Elrohir leaned forward, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He withdrew and held Legolas's tentative stare.

"You have no reason not to."

A nod answered his fears, and Elrohir almost collapsed with relief. He settled for taking Legolas into his arms and enfolded him in a warm grasp.

"Valar, Lass, you scared me so!"

"Did I?" Legolas said, unsure what to believe anymore. On the one hand, Elrohir had lied to him, but on the other, he seemed so relieved at having found him again. Could it all really be a misunderstanding?

"Yes, I feared something would happen to you!"

Legolas buried his face in Elrohir's wet neck, thankful for his comforting presence once again. "I did not want to leave, Roh, but I thought --"

"Hush. Let us return to Imladris, away from this storm!"

*

When Elrohir and Legolas reached Imladris, the clouds had broken and a thin mist of moisture hung in the air. Unsurprisingly, Legolas had insisted on walking himself when they neared Imladris, and Elrohir had released him from his arms accordingly and they had walked the last mile while clasping hands.

Legolas let go of his firm grasp on Elrohir's hand as they met the sentry.

"Has Elladan returned?" Elrohir said.

"No, Lord Elrohir," the sentry said, staring at Legolas, a veritable picture of misery with his rain-sodden appearance and downcast eyes.

"When he does, tell him that I have found Lass," Elrohir said, reaching for Legolas's hand again and resuming their pace without a second word.

Legolas hung back.

"Roh?"

"Yes, Lass?"

"Can you follow me? Please?"

"You need to change out of those clothes."

"They will dry. Please, Roh?"

Elrohir thought for a while, then acquiesced to his request with reluctance.

Legolas led them out of the city and took a deviation from the road into the trees, trying to speak, but finding that words failed him.

Five minutes later, he swung himself up onto a venerable oak and scaled it with ease, indicating for Elrohir to follow.

Despite his misgivings, Elrohir did as he was told.

Legolas scurried across a large branch, and leapt from it onto a ledge protruding off a cliff, which he started to scale, ignoring the eighty foot drop below him.

Following close behind, Elrohir was filled with questions. Elrohir had yet to see any proper evidence of Legolas's physical skills apart from the odd scramble from enraged victims -- until now, where he found himself being amazed by the effortless movement and confidence as Legolas worked his way up the steep cliff.

They reached the top, and Elrohir gasped to see that it was a grassy ledge on a vantage point overlooking his city. A waterfall tossed its contents crushing down into a large pool far below them, and Imladris's silver rooftops were glittering in the sun's sleepy rays.

"Valar," Elrohir breathed, and he found himself falling in love with the beauty of his home again. There was once when no matter how many times he looked upon Imladris, each time found a new shimmer in the roof to appreciate, a new shade of green to marvel at. It dulled with the passage of his mother, but seeing it from this new cliff, he found his heartstrings being tugged at once more.

"It is so beautiful," Legolas said, breathing hard from the exhausting climb.

Elrohir stared at the glistening image before him. It was a long time before he spoke.

"I had nigh forgotten to look at Imladris in this light. It is the first time I have seen it in this way for many years, Lass."

"Your Nana's departure made you this way. It is the way I felt when my Nana left too. Only here did I find beauty among the trees again."

Elrohir turned to Legolas.

"How did you find this place?"

"A wren told me of it. She had seen it during her flight."

"A wren? You speak with beasts?"

"I have not tried since Nana left, although she saw me wandering among your Ada's gardens and spoke to me. I think she sensed my sadness."

Elrohir stroked Legolas's head, at a loss for what to say.

"It took me a while to work out how to scale the cliff, for the first eighty feet are impossible to climb -- either too smooth or too weak! I have never seen a sight like this before. It is beautiful beyond words."

"'Tis so."

"Roh?"

"Hm?"

"You said we had to talk once we got back to Imladris."

"I did."

"Why did you break your word?" Legolas choked. His eyes were accusing in the way that only a child's could be. They threatened to cut Elrohir to shreds with their intensity.

"I did not."

"But I overheard you, Roh! I was going to seek you out for a game of chess to pass the storm when I heard Lord Elrond's voice. I heard him say that he was about to search for my family, and you did not object."

Elrohir grasped Legolas and took him into an embrace. "No, Lass, I did object. I convinced him not to look, but I fear you must tell us the reason why you do not wish to go back to your family."

Legolas drew in a deep breath and broke away, distressed.

"Lass," Elrohir said, taking his hand.

When Legolas still did not reply, Elrohir sat down and leaned against a small rock, pulling the young Elf to him.

After a while, Legolas said, "Because I have brought dishonour to my father."

Elrohir's chest tightened, but he stopped himself from speaking.

"I am not strong enough for them. I have brought dishonour to my family. All I wish to do is to go to Aman, where Nana is, waiting for me. She always told me I was her Little Leaf, and will stay that way forever."

The inevitable was obvious to Elrohir, but now that he had to tell Legolas to truth, he found it impossible to get the words out.

"I am sorry, Lass, but your Nana will not be waiting for you in Aman."

Legolas pushed hard at Elrohir, facing him directly, eyes flashing, brows knitted. Elrohir could see that his composure was breaking, that he was fighting to hold himself together. It would take only a nudge to send him crashing over the precipice, and would Elrohir have to do that in order to make him see the truth?

"Why do you say that?"

"Because your Nana did not sail West."

When Legolas continued to stare at him, Elrohir pressed on, "Sometimes, when a grievous hurt is inflicted on one of the first-born, their bodies cannot bear it. It is most unnatural, but the feä is made to leave the damaged body, and it arrives in the Halls of Waiting. There, they are made to wait until Námo decides that it is time for them to be released and reborn into our world.

"Your Nana did not wake when you tried to rouse her because her feä had long departed. Your people buried her body because it no longer housed her soul. Death is incomprehensible to immortal beings, yet darkness enforces its hold upon us through it."

Legolas swallowed hard, mind racing, struggling to understand what Elrohir was trying to tell him. "Does this mean that I cannot go to her, that she is no longer in this world?"

"Yes, Lass."

Staring at Elrohir, Legolas did not react. Then, as Elrohir watched, it seemed as if each muscle in his face gave in, one after another as the forced bravery departed. Legolas started trembling, then let out a choked sob. A last ditch attempt to gain control was made, before the resistance gave in, and Legolas found himself biting back his tears. He wiped them away with a furious motion, but Elrohir grabbed his arm.

"I am sorry," Legolas managed to gasp, still fighting the tears. "I tried -- I tried not to cry --"

All Elrohir's previous caution and guardedness fled, and he scooped Legolas into his arms and held him close to his chest. It was the breaking point for Legolas, to feel Elrohir's concern and comfort pouring into him, and he gave up trying to suppress his tears.

"Why must you hide your grief?" Elrohir said.

Legolas started to sob, weeks of pain, fear, pretence, all unleashed, and he cried freely -- the first time since his mother left him.

Faced with such a sight, Elrohir's last turrets of defence crashed down, and he squeezed Legolas to him tighter still as one tear, then another, came splashing down his face -- the first tears that escaped his iron hold in years.

"She deserves your grief, Lass. They both deserve us mourning," Elrohir said, before his own sobs took over.

The pair clung to each other, grieving over their losses together in a way they had never allowed themselves, and Elrohir rocked them both as they cried till their tears ran dry. Then, and only then, Elrohir brushed aside Legolas's damp hair from his face, and looked down into the trusting face, at the one who had taught him to rediscover beauty -- and pain.

Still shaking, Legolas tried to contain his gasping, and the corners of his mouth tried to twitch upwards when he saw Elrohir's wet face and swollen eyes too.

"Do all Elves die? I do not want you to die, Roh. I will not survive you leaving me too."

Faced with such a solemn pronunciation, Elrohir was speechless for a while.

"Do you not believe me?" Legolas said, his voice becoming desperate. "I do not lie, Roh, when I say I want to be with you forever and ever. Please do not leave me."

"I will never leave you, Lass."

A sudden ray of hope seemed to sweep over the little one. "Promise?"

"I do."

Legolas smiled then, his entire face lighting up with the motion, and Elrohir found his heart swelling at the sight.

Reaching out, Legolas gently brushed at a tear which remained half-fallen on Elrohir's face.

"You are not weak to cry," Elrohir said. "And neither am I."

"Why? Why did they have to leave us?"

"I do not know. I doubt even the Valar know, Lass."

"Will I ever see her again, Roh?"

"I do not know."

Legolas drew out an acorn from his pocket and examined it, frowning hard while he tried to compose his thoughts.

"I picked this from a tree that was wilting. It was growing near the place where Nana sleeps underground. Shall we plant it here? If it sprouts, I will see her again, and if it does not --"

"We will make sure that it grows tall and strong, then!" Elrohir said, finally smiling.

Legolas gave a resolute nod, and he pressed the acorn into Elrohir's hands, before digging in the soft earth.

"This will be a good place for it to grow, for it shall have plenty of sun and rain, and the cliff is strong enough to allow his roots to take hold. We might have to nurse it through the harsh winter months this year, but it will be strong enough to endure the next."

Watching him, Elrohir was hit by his knowledge and affinity with nature that spoke of woodland origins. Yet, his knowledge and lilting accent were too refined to make him one of the dark folk -- were they not?

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Legolas tugging at his sleeve.

"Roh? Shall we plant it together?"

"Yes, Lass, if you wish."

Legolas attempted a shaky smile as he and Elrohir pressed the small acorn into the soil, and covered it up together.

Staring at the fresh soil, Legolas breathed a prayer for his mother, before turning to Elrohir.

"There is nowhere for me to go."

"Imladris is always here for you, Lass."

"Really?"

"Its doors shall always welcome you."

*****
Sindarin Translations:
Nana -- mama/mummy
Feä -- spirit

A/N: That was a gem to write, even if I did get myself all upset for their sakes, and it was indeed difficult going on at times. I am, however, satisfied that both Legolas and Elrohir have provided each other with the required comfort that they need, and am glad they can do so in the most innocent of ways. Just a little bit more to go, and thank you for your patience again.

Standing at the door to Elrond's study, Elrohir had an awful sense of foreboding that suggested something unpleasant was about to occur.

"Ada?"

"Come in, Elrohir," Elrond said, setting down a parchment he had been reading. "How was your trip?"

"Very good. Lass is proving to be an excellent tracker, and his skills are considerable for one his age. Dan and I fear he is more than our match in archery as it is!"

Elrond managed a smile. In the months that had followed Legolas's arrival, he had become part of the family, embracing his new life without any hesitation. He had become closer to the twins in the way of a brother, and they had recently taken it upon themselves to hone his martial skills. Broaching the topic of his real identity always proved as problematic as it had been from the start, and so they had left it -- until now.

"Elrohir, I must tell you this: word has reached us from Eryn Galen. It seems my correspondent had only just returned after a lengthy absence. He writes that Thranduil's younger son has been missing for almost a year."

Elrohir felt as if his chest had been struck.

"What?" he cried. "Surely you cannot mean --"

"He went missing shortly after the Queen's funeral. Thranduil and his older son, Dethronir, have been looking for him since. Already they gave him up for dead."

Collapsing into a chair, Elrohir stared at Elrond in disbelief.

"How can he be Thranduil's son?"

"Prince Legolas of Eryn Galen disappeared after his mother's death last summer. He was not yet twenty when she was slain."

Elrohir tried his best not to gasp.

"How did you know this? The ties between our two kingdoms are still strained at best. You sent a message to Eryn Galen, Ada! You went back against your word!"

"That I have done, and only because it was in Lass's interests to do so. The reply took so long as Milinral too had been searching for him and had only just returned home after giving up hope."

Knowing that Elrond spoke the truth, Elrohir bit his lip and tried to think how best to carry on.

"I will send word to Thranduil so that he may have his troubled mind laid at rest soonest. The grief he felt at losing both a Queen and a son must have been unimaginable. In spite of how cold and impenetrable he might want to appear, I know that his love for Tuilinniel was deep."

Elrohir sprang to his feet and started pacing the room.

"But how will Lass take this? We still do not know the real reason for his refusal to go home, which is even more puzzling in the light of his identity. Thranduil might be stubborn, but he is a wise king and has a good heart. Why Lass would run away from him is beyond me!"

"It is something we must find out before Legolas goes home."

"No!" Elrohir said, staring at Elrond in shock. "You cannot mean --"

"Elrohir, Legolas's place is with his father. We always knew his stay in Imladris was temporary."

"Yet you took him in as your foster son!" Elrohir cried.

"Peace, Elrohir. While it is true that I have come to love him as a son of my own, we cannot keep him here now that we know of his true identity."

Attempting to calm down, Elrohir refused to concede his position. The inexplicable bond that had risen from their initial meeting had deepened with the months that followed Legolas's arrival in Imladris. It was difficult to imagine a life without the spritely young Elf begging to be taken on patrols, or coming up with another prank to infuriate the long-suffering denizens of Elrond's household, who had thought themselves free of such tribulations as the twins had matured. Why, just the other day he had lured a family of bears into the Halls of Fire --

"Elrohir, there is more I wish to speak to you about. Given the way that Thranduil feels about Imladris, I do not think it wise to reveal how I have fostered Lass here. I would strive to keep his true identity a secret among our people, and not allow any word of it to reach Thranduil. I fear his grief over Oropher's death and the slaughter of his army might still be too fresh in his mind."

"Are you worried for Lass?"

"It seems to me as if their relationship is strained enough without this added complication. While I do not think it is our place to interfere --"

"Surely anything that threatens his welfare --"

Rapid knocking on the door sounded, and Elrond called for whomever it was to enter.

A golden head popped around the door, and Legolas's cheerful face lit up further when he saw Elrohir.

"Ada, Roh! I have been looking all over for the both of you! Are you discussing serious things?" From the way his nose was wrinkled in distance, it was clear that he thought all matters of a serious nature were to be avoided at all costs.

"Come in, Lass," Elrond said, shooting Elrohir a warning look.

"Roh?" Legolas went up to him and flung his arms around Elrohir. "What is wrong? You look unhappy."

Returning the hug, Elrohir was again struck by how easily the child read his feelings.

"No, Lass. We are forced to confront unpleasant events sometimes, whether we like it or not."

"Oh," Legolas said, his face falling. His irrepressible spirit fought to the surface again, however, and a warm smile appeared on his face. "I have just the cure for that! 'Twas the reason I sought you and Ada out! Dan left with a patrol before I could find him, but it is good that you are both here."

"What are you talking about?" Elrohir said, laughing in spite of his earlier feeling of dread.

"Ada, will you not come too?" Legolas said, dragging Elrohir to the door.

"You need to tell us what requires our pressing attention, Lass!" Elrohir said. "It had better not be another trick!"

Legolas sniffed his disapproval. "I have no need for methods like this even if I had decided to trap you!"

"Indeed," Elrond said, rising. "Although Elrohir is right in worrying, for if I am not wrong, a certain Elfling broke into my stores again last night?"

Legolas let out an exaggerated sigh. "Very well, I promise it is not a trap. Now will you follow me?"

Elrond nodded, and they allowed Legolas to lead them to his chambers. Outside the door, Legolas pressed a finger to his lips while stepping inside. The curtains were closed, adding to the lingering air of anticipation.

Legolas crossed the room and knelt down in front of a wicker basket, shifting the cloth within.

Elrohir smiled when he saw a tiny, wet nose rise to sniff the air from within the folds.

"I chanced upon them near the cliff. They had lost their Nana," Legolas said, pushing back the cloth to reveal two tiny red deer fawn. "I managed to bring both of them back here. It is rare for twins to occur in deer. You can name one of them, and I will name the other!"

Elrond tried to suppress a chuckle. His house had been filled with strays since Legolas's arrival with his taking in of various injured animals. Every one he had tried to nurse back to health, and many a time Elrohir had been summoned to Legolas's room in the still of the night to view his latest acquisition.

"Are they not beautiful?" Legolas said, stroking the keen head of one. "They were so hungry that they drank for almost an hour before they stopped!"

"Lass, I fear there is an important letter that I have to send, for every second delayed will prolonged another's anguish. I will be in my study should either of you wish to see me," Elrond said, after the trio had cooed at the fawn for a while.

Elrohir knew that his father was telling him to break the news to Legolas, but he still could not bring himself to do so, and so he kept his silence long after Elrond left.

"What should we call them?" Legolas said, busy playing with the deer.

"It is up to you, Legolas," Elrohir said.

Legolas looked as if he had been struck, and he froze, before slowly turning to Elrohir.

Taking in a deep breath, he said, "What did you say?"

"Ada received a letter from Eryn Galen which mentions the disappearance of their young prince. Why did you not tell us?"

Legolas was trying very hard to hold back his frantic tears.

"You are not going to tell my father, are you?"

"How can we not? He thinks you are dead!"

"It is better this way!"

"Why?"

Legolas ran over to Elrohir and flung his arms around his neck again.

"Please, Roh, do not tell him! You cannot tell him!"

Elrohir took a few deep, calming breaths. "Your place is with your father, Lass --"

"No, Roh! I do not wish to go back. If Imladris does not welcome me I will leave --"

Elrohir pressed a fervent kiss to his forehead. "You know that is far from the truth. But you have to return to your father. Do not make him bear the loss of his Queen and son at the same time."

"If I return, I will bring further disgrace upon him," Legolas whispered, hanging his head low.

"Wherever did you get that idea?" Elrohir cried, surprise and indignation in his voice.

"I am not strong enough to be a Prince --"

"Enough!" Elrohir cried, louder than he had intended to in his agitation.

Legolas did not flinch but instead continued squaring his jaw. Now that Elrohir knew the truth, it was no wonder he was treating him with such harshness. When he was little Lass, nobody expected him to be stronger than he was, but as Legolas, a prince, he was so woefully inadequate.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Elrohir said, "Why, were you to look into a mirror now, you would see such a force to be reckoned with! I will never lie to you, and I have this to say: you are every bit as worthy of your lineage as any I have ever met."

When Legolas did not answer, Elrohir pressed on, "Why do you think you are not worthy?"

Taking a deep breath, Legolas said, "Because a son of Oropher's house never cries. I tried my best, but I was so sad when they told me Nana left without me --"

Elrohir gave a hoarse, mirthless laugh. "Your Nana's leaving was worth your grief, Lass. I thought you knew that."

"But Adar said --"

"Did your Adar love your Nana?"

"Very much so!"

"So he too would have felt pain at her leaving?"

"Yes. But he did not cry, and neither did Dethronir! Why could I not control myself? Why did I have to cry?"

Elrohir reached for his hand and brought it up to his own face.

"What do you feel, Lass?"

"Your face is wet."

"Do you think any worse of me for crying?"

"It is not the same!"

"Why?"

Legolas tried to answer, but could not come up with a reason, and so offered, "You are brave and strong; I know this."

"And I know the same of you, Lass."

There was no response, and Elrohir continued to watch him, searching his face for an indication of his thoughts.

"When do I have to leave?" Legolas said.

"It will not be for a while."

"Will you come with me to Eryn Galen?"

"You know the answer, Lass. The shadow of Dagorlad has yet to be cleansed from your people's memory."

"My father will not like to hear of Ada Elrond, then," Legolas said, frowning hard.

Elrohir did not answer.

A sudden thought occurred to Legolas, and he looked up, urgency flashing across his face. "I will see you and Dan and Ada again, will I not, Roh?"

"Of course, Lass! Our parting will only be temporary!"

Legolas let out a long sigh and fingered a raven lock of hair. "I wish that we could be together forever and never part again."

"You know that is not possible, Lass. You might feel this way now, but you will grow up in time, fall in love, and everything will change."

A scowl worked its way onto Legolas's face. "You are not in love with some elleth, are you?"

Elrohir grinned at the possessiveness in Legolas's tone. "How could I, when I spend all my waking hours making sure you do not get yourself killed?"

Legolas narrowed his eyes further. "Which gives you plenty of time to fall in love and forget me when I am gone?"

Laughing, Elrohir placed a kiss on his head. "Do not fear, Lass-nîn. How could I forget you?"

It seemed to satisfy Legolas, who wriggled out of Elrohir's arms and looked askance at him for a long time.

"Yes?" Elrohir said, knowing that the look on Legolas's face meant trouble.

"Do you have any carving tools I can use?"

Elrohir almost groaned. "Why?"

"It appears that in our excitement I have forgotten the time. Gwenophor will not enjoy being stuck in the forest for so long. Hurry, we need the tools to extricate him!"

Elrohir let out a sigh. It was going to be a long night.

*****
Sindarin Translations:
Elleth -- (female) Elf

A/N: So this is the much-anticipated scene of the Imladrin Elves finding out Legolas's true identity and the confrontation between Elrohir and Legolas. There's a wee bit more ground I wish to cover, but otherwise that's pretty much the end of it.

Perched on the cliff high above the crashing waterfalls, Legolas stroked a leaf of the tiny sapling while he stared into the crisp and clear night air. No matter how hard he tried to stop its arrival, the next day would bring with it an inevitable parting he was loathe to endure. Time had a terrible way of changing its flow just to go against one: while Legolas would have found two months an agonisingly slow wait for an occasion such as his begetting-day, this had come around in the beating of a moth's wings.

"What are you thinking?" To his side, Elrohir spoke, thoughts similarly preoccupied.

"That I wish I had the power to stop time."

"Do you not wish to see your friends again?"

The morose expression on Legolas's face did not lift. It had been an exhausting eight weeks for Legolas and the twins, for Legolas had all but increased his mayhem and deepened his penchant for trouble to a level that even Elrohir found astonishing. Just yesterday, hours after the cast from Legolas's hand had been removed, Elladan had to rescue him from a cauldron full of boiling water and an irate chef, hopping mad after Legolas had managed to dislodge the huge pot of stew from its firm perch over the fire.

It was only a few days ago that a meek Legolas -- hiding from Erestor's enraged shouts after he had spread a thick layer of cream and custard between the sheets of his bed -- confessed to Elrohir the real reason for his behaviour: so that he would have more to remember of his days in Imladris when he returned to Eryn Galen. Faced with a similar dreading of Legolas's imminent departure, Elrohir understood straightaway why Legolas had been so keen to spend sleepless nights talking with Elladan and himself, insisting on them continuing the conversation even though he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Tonight, though, was different, and none was under any illusion that they could get any restful sleep. Elladan had sent the pair along to their special spot on the cliff, saying that he would catch up with them after he had a quick word with Erestor regarding a mundane household matter, but Legolas and Elrohir knew that he was giving them time alone.

"I remember the first time we came here," Legolas said, voice barely above a whisper. "Now the seed has sprouted."

"I will take care of it for you, Lass."

Legolas flung himself at Elrohir, and burrowed his face against Elrohir's chest, breathing hard.

"I will see you again, Roh?"

"I promise."

Elrohir pressed a pendant into Legolas's hand.

"My Naneth gave this to me ere she sailed West. I am giving it to you for safekeeping -- to be returned when we next meet."

A wave of gratitude crashed over Legolas as he studied the glittering stone reflecting Cúron's rays. He knew the pendant mattered more than anything in the world to Elrohir; that his friend trusted him to keep it safe spoke of the mutual regard they had for each other.

"I have something for you too," Legolas said, handing over a carved flute.

Elrohir's eyes lit up as he noted that Legolas had spent much time carving it. He lifted it to his lips, and a sweet note filled the night air.

"Every time you think of me, play it, and I will fly back to wherever you are," Legolas said, his solemn tone indicating that he believed every word he was saying.

"Thank you, Lass," Elrohir said, keeping it with great care. "I will play it every day."

By this time, Elladan had joined them, and Legolas badgered the twins to tell him tales of their adventures in the lands west of Imladris. It was in the middle of a story of a Halfling who tried to eat an entire bushel of mushrooms did Elladan notice that Legolas had fallen asleep in Elrohir's arms, exhausted by weeks of frenetic activity.

He paused in his tale and turned his attention to Elrohir.

"I will miss him too, Roh."

"He will be angry at not having stayed up the whole night with us," Elrohir said, letting out a sigh. "Yet, his journey tomorrow will be tiring, and he needs the rest."

Elladan smiled, but did not reply.

"I know not when our next meeting will be," Elrohir said.

"You knew he had to go back to his people one day, even when his identity was still unknown."

"And still I allowed myself to form an attachment to him."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," Elrohir said, realising with a jolt that he meant it.

"'Tis good to hear. Rejoice too in the thawing of relations between our kingdoms. We will be able to write to him regularly, and even visits may not be as infrequent as you think."

Elrohir tried to smile and said, "It is nice to know that some peace might be in order for poor, besieged Imladris! I did wonder how long it would be before someone tied Lass up and gave him a sound beating!"

*

Sitting on his horse, Legolas forced himself to look forward as the great steed galloped away from the beautiful vale he had come to know as well as his home.

As Elrohir had predicted, he had been annoyed at the twins' failure to rouse him before dawn, and only the desire to not add to Elrohir's pain had made Legolas go through the motions of packing what little things he had amassed during his stay. He tidied his room as if he would be returning soon enough, before shutting the door carefully behind him.

The sick feeling of dread at the bottom of his stomach did not regress, even as he greeted Milinral. It had been long since he had seen the old recluse from Eryn Galen, and Legolas had genuinely missed him. Milinral had then cloistered himself up with Elrond in the study for a couple of hours, giving Legolas and the twins a last chance to walk around Imladris, and for Legolas to bid his farewells to her many inhabitants.

Just as his many pranks had drawn enraged shouts, his sweet nature and genuine concern for any in pain had endeared him to most -- if not all -- who came into contact with him. As such, many tearful hugs and wet kisses were bestowed on Imladris's temporary resident. Those who did not know him had heard of how he had worked his magic and restored their beloved Lord Elrohir to his sprightly self, and so had a few smiles as they saw the familiar sight of him walking past, sandwiched by his twin protectors.

No tears flowed when time to mount the horse came, although he and Elrohir had clung on to each other for the longest time before they broke apart. They had decided that the twins would not ride with the Silvan Elves, and so he had left with Milinral, fighting the urge to turn around for one last glance.

It was only after they left Imladris that Legolas's body relaxed and settled into the rhythmic rise and fall of the horse. Still, the pendant he wore burned hot against his chest.

FIN

*****

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but exams are still looming spectrally over me. Wow this is the last chapter, and I am sorry to see it go. Like Legolas has found out, all things do have to come to an end of sorts. I do hope that it is the ending that everyone has envisaged. Thanks for being so supportive and for reading this far, and I promise that more in this vein will come along. Already I've started writing a sequel, and even bits and blobs of out-takes from Legolas's time in Imladris. Stay tuned, and if you wish, I will drop an email/PM when the next story is published; just indicate that you wish for it to be so in your review (!).