Hey there. You've stopped in to read my story, and you have no idea (or perhaps you do...) how happy that makes me. Concrit is very welcom, but please be respectful and kind. Thanks to ziggy3 for encouragment and ideas, to midnight13731 for support, and to misscruel for beta reading!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Long, Long Journey

by Caelhir

Beta'd by misscruel

Chapter 1

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a collection of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent finding beauty in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered. But most of all, I learned that life is about sitting on benches next to ancient creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love. ~ The Notebook

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Year 2509 Third Age of Middle Earth

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Elrohir grinned at Elladan.

"There's no way that's true!" Elladan protested.

"Oh, I assure you, Elladan, it is true. I've seen it. Come on; I'll show you!" And with that, the tall, dark-haired elf turned and darted through the trees.

Elladan cried out in protest, then sighed and followed. He didn't believe for one moment that there was a three legged Orc roaming around Rivendell, but he followed Elrohir, not paying close attention to his whereabouts until his identical brother finally lost him among a patch of thick, old trees. When Elladan looked up, irritated to find out when Elrohir would actually show him this stupid Orc, Elladan realized that Elrohir had simply vanished, for he was nowhere in sight. Elladan looked around to make sure, then continued on his path, loosening his light knife. Perhaps there was truth in Elrohir's words? Had he been captured? or injured? Elladan sped up, trying to banish those thoughts from his mind as his path wound and twisted into a small clearing. The back of his neck prickled as he realized he was being watched. He swung around, glaring into the trees and scrubby brush around him, then continued walking. Elrohir wasn't here. Where was he?

Elladan stopped, aware of the silence pressing in around him. "Elrohir?" he called softly. "Are you there? Where did you go?"

Still, nothing but the quiet.

Elladan turned around in a circle, his suspicions that his twin was having him on. He crouched low and began to creep forwards. He didn't know where he was going; he just was.

A crash to his left, and he couldn't help it; he yelped and fell into a bush.

Peals of clear elven laughter met his ears as he struggled with his leafy captor.

"Mae govannen, Elladan!" said a voice he recognized. He groaned and flung an arm over his eyes, after catching sight of a tall, lithe form dropping down from a tree in front of him, straightening as easily as though the ten foot drop had been no more than a simple step down.

Legolas, prince of Greenwood grinned at him and offered him a hand.

Elladan took his friend's hand, and the elf pulled him to his feet.

Elrohir was lying on his back beneath a tree a little ways off. He was cursing under his breath, wheezing and coughing. At Elladan's curious look, Legolas said, "Elrohir wanted to hide in the trees and see how long you would wander around. He had less patience than I, and he tried to get a better looking point, and-"

"-And he fell out," said Elladan, now laughing himself now. He stepped around Legolas and went to Elrohir, who was still on the ground.

"How do you fare, gwador?" Elladan asked, not bothering to contain his mirth.

In answer, Elrohir glared at Elladan and began to stagger to his feet. He winced as he gingerly pressed his hand to his ribs. "I only feel out because someone-" he whipped around and glared daggers into the tree, "-pushed me out of the tree!"

Elladan frowned. Who else would be in on the joke?

He shouted in laughter as another elf, slimmer and shorter than the first, dropped to the ground besides Elrohir (who was swearing something terrible, words their father would be shocked to know Elrohir even knew!). The youngest Peredhel, their young sister Arwen had been the third prankster!

All four elves laughed for a few further moments, until finally, clutching their ribs, they made their way back to the house of Elrond (and children), occasionally mimicking Elladan's wild leap into the hedge, or Elrohir's tumble form the tree.

While Elladan and Arwen began to chat in earnest about horse racing, one of their favorite past times, Elrohir and Legolas dropped back to speak to Legolas, looking slightly worried.

"Are you well?" He asked of his long time best friend.

Legolas glanced slantwise at Elrohir out of soft grey eyes, then sighed. "Yes, 'Ro, I am as well as can be expected."

Elrohir frowned, narrowing his eyes. "How fares your relationship with your father back in Greenwood, then, if you are well?"

He had touched a nerve with that one, he knew. Legolas stopped dead, mouth twisted in a grimace, and eyes reflecting hidden pain. Then he continued walking, eyes downcast.

"Elrohir, I care about you too much to lie to you. It's not good, not good at all." He glanced up to where Elladan and Arwen were still arguing playfully, to ensure they did not hear his next words. "Elrohir, I think my father...is fading. I think Nana's death has hurt him too deeply. The way he acts now...it's just, he gets angry with me about little things, like getting sidetracked on a patrol, or if Thoronsul and I ever go out together, he gets upset if we aren't returned exactly when we say we will be. I think he's just worried, but I wish that he didn't get angry."

Legolas paused for a moment, then continued in a very small voice that betrayed his fear for his father, "I don't want to lose my Ada as well."

Elrohir stopped now, pulling Legolas to a halt beside him, then glanced at the other two, and pulled Legolas off the path, onto a hidden path Legolas had not seen. Legolas stumbled, steered by Elrohir's grip on his arms. " 'Ro, what about Elladan and Ar-"

"They'll think we've gone off to play a prank on them." Elrohir responded, dragging Legolas around to face him. "Now," he said, in a much more serious tone, "What did he say this time? And don't lie to me, 'Las, I know you're hurting! Your father-"

"-will not stop berating me just because I ran away!" Legolas responded angrily, the words slipping between his lips with out his consent. "He'll think it cowardly, and he'll be even angrier!" He bit his lips and stepped back from Elrohir, the only one he had ever told, the only one he had felt safe around since his mother's passing.

Sighing heavily, Legolas passed a hand over his eyes, as if to shake some unseen veil from them.

"Elrohir, I'm truly worried, and I don't know what to do. I really do want to help my father, it's just that...oh, I don't know, we're just at odds half the time, even though I know he doesn't mean to be angry, I really don't think he does!"

Legolas shook his head, a bitter smile creeping across his face. "The other half of the time, he's busy being the king he is, and attempts to balance being a good father and just king while trying to keep a falling kingdom together!"

Elrohir's hazel eyes softened, and he pulled Legolas into an embrace, resting his chin on the other's head. Ai, my friend, my brother Legolas, he thought sadly.

Elrohir had been Legolas' closest friend since the first time he and Legolas had met, both as children, when the Royal family of Greenwood had come on a visit to Imladris. Elrohir had been taller than Legolas, but still only reached his father's hip He had watched from a high window as the Greenwood party had trotted into the center courtyard. The smallest member of the party, seeming to be around Elrohir's own age, had looked around in awe at the beauty of Imladris, and so, had caught sight of Elrohir, who had waved shyly. The elf in the courtyard waved back, and the friendship had begun.

From then on, Legolas had begged to accompany his father's pages on their journeys to Imladris to play with Elrohir. But of course, where Elrohir was, so was Elladan, and Arwen, when she was old enough to toddle along after the three elflings.

After the death of Legolas' Lorien-born mother, Nearlinde, Legolas had become quieter and quieter, until finally Elrohir had confronted him and consequently, found out about the verbal abuse that Legolas had received at his grief-stricken father's hands. The very idea had stunned the Noldor elf, for he had never known a parent to shout at his child, and he had wanted to tell his father immediately.

But Legolas had forced Elrohir to swear to never reveal the secret of Thranduil's failing life and fading patience until Elrohir hadn't heard from him for at least a month. Elrohir had then received many letters from Legolas, some light, and casual, others telling Elrohir of the increasingly tense, but strangely strong, relationship between the royal father and son of Greenwood.

Recently, Legolas had told Elrohir that his father's condition was getting increasingly worse as the Shadow in the south of Greenwood grew stronger and created more stress on the patrols and the king who commanded them. Thranduil's temper had been growing shorter, and as his father's temper became smaller, Legolas' worry for the king, and more importantly, for his father, grew larger.

Elrohir wrenched his mind back to the conversation, but as he focused back upon the subject of his thoughts, the tall Greenwood elf was nowhere to be seen.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Please review!