WHAT TIME CANNOT ERASE

Our friends interpret the world and ourselves to us, if we take them tenderly and truly.

Amos Bronson Alcott


Author: Sadie Sil

Betas: Calathiel (first chapters) and Puxinette (revision and other chapters)

Genre: Angst/Adventure

Rating: T

Timeline: Chapter I – around the year 2200 – In The Watchful Peace Period - a relatively peaceful 4-century period during the Third Age, from T.A. 2063 until Sauron's return to Dol Guldur in 2460.- ; the other chapters – in the year 2934, of the Third Age

Disclaimer: I didn't create any of these wonderful characters. I've just borrowed them from the Professor, devoting them all my love. Now I feel they are also a little bit mine, but I am sure the good Professor won't mind sharing them with me.

Summary: When Legolas was a small child, Celebrian and her children used to visit him every spring. A deep and valuable bond of friendship was established between him and the twins. This friendship, however, could not withstand unexpected events. Many years later an opportunity for reconciliation appeared.

Vocabulary:

Ion – son

Ionath – children - sons

Ield - daughter

Ada – dad (familiar/informal)

Adar – father (formal)

Nana – mom (familiar/informal)

Naneth – mother (formal)

penig – little one

nîn – my

El - nick name used on some occasions to call Elladan or Elrohir or both of them together.

Author's note: I borrowed Thranduil's wife's name Elvéwen from the stories of an excellent author called Cassia. I'd like to thank her for allowing me to use it.


CHAPTER I – REMEMBER MY FACE AND MY AFFECTION


You and I will meet again,

When we're least expecting it,

One day in some far off place,

I will recognize your face,

I won't say goodbye my friend,

For you and I will meet again.

Tom Petty


He flew down the stairs at a great speed, sliding barefoot on the tiles when he reached the lower floor, and then continued his journey to the entrance hall. However, when he made the next turn that would allow him to reach the main door, he caught sight of two beautiful slender figures approaching slowly. He stepped back, taken by the instinct to hide. He knew he would be reprimanded again for running through the halls. But there was no time. They had already seen him.

"Penig?" His mother's voice sounded like music to his ears. It was a strong and lilting melody that he would never cease to follow, wherever he was. Legolas immediately turned and smiled when he saw the elf queen approaching, accompanied by her lovely visitor. Actually he was silently thankful that she apparently hadn't seen the speed with which he had come down the stairs.

"Nana. Lady Celebrian," the elfling said as he bowed gracefully, and Elrond's wife sighed, pressing a hand to her breast.

"Hello, Little Squirrel," Celebrian said as she smiled at Legolas.

He returned her smile, delighted with the affectionate way he was treated by the Lady of Imladris.

"Where is my Star?" she asked him.

"Arwen is upstairs," he quickly answered, lifting his finger to indicate the direction of the place he was speaking of. "We were sketching; she taught me to draw a sunset."

The curly-haired lady elf smiled, exchanging an affectionate glance with the friend by her side. Elvéwen nodded her head slightly. This actually seemed to confirm something they had been chatting about. It was deeply satisfying to see how easily Legolas, Arwen and the twins had tightened the ties of their friendship over the years that Celebrian had been visiting the Forest Kingdom.

"And have you learned her lesson well, pen-neth?" Elvéwen asked the elfling, noticing that he was glancing around restlessly and moving from one foot to another as he always did when he was in a hurry and had been stopped.

"Yes, nana," Legolas replied promptly, now clasping his hands behind his back as a good prince should behave in front of visitors. In fact, he had realized that his mother had noticed his impatience and had given him a warning glance.

"Is that true, little one?" she asked in a cheerful tone, crossing her arms in front of her body.

"Yes," Legolas said, nodding his head firmly. "Arwen said I paint blurs that resemble the rising sun—somewhat."

The two ladies could not help laughing, and Legolas was pleased by that sound. He loved to see his mother laughing, and when she was accompanied by Lady Celebrian, the world seemed just perfect.

"Poor little one." Elrond's wife approached, placing a hand on the prince's shoulder. "I'm sure she did not intend to offend you, Squirrel. I bet that the landscapes you have created are very beautiful."

Legolas shook his head.

"No, indeed, my lady," he replied with sincerity. "Elrohir has made terrible comments about the pictures I paint."

Celebrian raised both eyebrows, turning her embarrassed eyes away from the prince. She didn't dare to ask him what the views of her middle child had been.

"I do not care," Legolas quickly said, noting the discomfort he had created. "I do not like to draw landscapes. I cannot even see sights here that are worth being drawn, my lady."

"Legolas!" Elvéwen said, unable to contain her dissatisfaction with her son's words.

Legolas blushed slightly.

"Forgive me, nana," he said, immediately trying to redeem himself. "I did not mean that there is not beauty here. I just... I cannot see the sunrise or the sunset and... Everything is always so dark and closed... My friends Thavanian and Alagos have told me that the sun's path is different here in our woods. Is that true, nana?"

Elvéwen looked down briefly, thinking that actually Arwen's drawings would not really make sense for an elfling such as Legolas, who had lived his entire life within the confines of this cave, with strict permission to go only as far as the garden. He barely knew the blue sky and brilliant stars, enjoying a few of the sun's rays that streamed in through small cracks in the roof of the cave; the same sun that favored the growth of a few different trees and flowers that thrived in the subterranean garden.

"Children play with the truth, Las," Elvéwen clarified after a sigh. She needed to talk to Thavanian and Alagos again. Would those elflings never give up playing such jokes on Legolas? "Creating truths to suit oneself does not make them real. I've already told you so."

Legolas bit the corner of his lip, trying to catch whether that was a reply to his question or a reprimand. It was never very clear.

"The forest is a bit closed," Celebrian added fondly. "You can hide what exists here and there, but things cannot be prevented from existing. Do you understand elfling?"

Legolas' brow furrowed slightly, and the ladies looked at each other and sighed at the same time. He was a growing boy. He was already reading difficult poems and dragons' stories. He was even learning to handle the bow and arrow, but he still had an innocence that prevented him from understanding the world around him.

"If we could at least go a little beyond the gardens? If we could leave the cave..." Legolas said, staring at the door. "Thavanian and Alagos say there is still much beauty there... During the last moon, Lord Erebian took them camping and..."

"You know what the king thinks about that, do you not, Squirrel?" Elvéwen answered patiently, stroking her son's hair. "Please, dear one. Listen to your naneth's advice and do not bother him with those thoughts again. You know he gets angry with you when you come with these stories, penig."

Legolas lowered his eyes and dropped his shoulders in a sigh.

"Yes, nana," he said, lifting them up again sadly. "Can I go now?"

Elvéwen pursed her lips in frustration. Why did she always have to be responsible for making her son understand his father's opinions, even when she herself didn't understand her husband?

"Where are you going?"

"To look for the twins. Arwen asked me to call them. Have you seen them?"

"Yes," Celebrian responded promptly, as if waking from thoughts of the sad mother and child exchange she'd just witnessed. "They are talking in the garden."

Legolas raised both eyebrows, pleased with the discovery and seemingly already forgetting his mother's sad words. Then he looked at Elvéwen, waiting politely for permission to move away. The beautiful lady-elf smiled, leaning over and kissing her son's forehead lovingly. The elfling then ran for the exit of the great hall, passing the two keepers who were standing there and running over the narrow bridge that led to the clearing where the Queen's hidden garden was built.


After crossing the bridge, however, Legolas stopped for a second outside the beautiful place his mother had created. The garden was part of the cave, but a large crack in the ceiling allowed light to come in and give energy to the life which grew inside. It was his mother's refuge. A Silvan elf who, like him, had been forced to live most of her days inside a cave, protected but isolated from the world and the forest she loved. His mother told him that his father did it because he loved them, but Legolas found it very difficult to understand a love like that.

Some sounds coming from inside the garden distracted his thoughts then, and he instinctively hid himself in a small corner behind the gate, keeping it closed. He kept quiet for a moment just to try to make sure who was there. It didn't take long for him to recognize the twins' voices, which sounded as music from the trees. They were his heroes, the brave warriors who were in all of his dreams. He loved imagining them as the main characters of the books he read; he could see them climbing tall trees, pioneering unknown lands, facing dragons and other monsters, saving people. All he wanted was to grow up to be a warrior like them.

Legolas waited a little longer, not resisting the temptation of listening to them without them knowing he was there. He wanted to know what brave warriors usually talked about.

They were sitting on one of the old stumps, which had been skillfully carved into the shape of a large bench. One of them looked at the yellow Ipe tree, which at this time of year, usually flourished nicely, even in a dark cave. The other brother had a stick in his hands and scribbled something on the dry earthen floor. Legolas could not see any difference between them, however hard he tried. The elfling frowned and then concentrated his attention on what he could hear.

"When we return to Imladris I want to take a different route," said the twin who was holding the stick. "The one we usually take is too risky."

The other one nodded without answering, still contemplating the lovely tree. A yellow petal from one of its flowers broke off and landed gently on his shoulder, making him smile.

"I was thinking," continued the first one. "It will take an extra day of travel, but I think it is wise."

"Uh-huh..." said the other one, absently.

"Before that we can have a good dive into the Enchanted River. I really need to sleep a few days. What do you think?"

"Uh-huh..." The reply came in an even lower whisper, but then the elf in front of the tree moved his head slightly, as if he were mentally repeating his brother's sentence to himself, and then he gave him a puzzled look. "What did you say, Elrohir? Do you want to have a bath in the Enchanted River, the dark river that rises in the mountains of the forest? Do you remember that people say that its waters carry a curse that gives the river its name—any person coming into contact with its enchanted water immediately falls into a long, deep sleep?"

"Uh-huh..." The twin replied, mimicking exactly the tone his brother had been using until then. "I want to do that after visiting the dungeons and maybe asking the king to sword train with me and..."

Elladan followed his brother's absurd speech for some time before realizing the real meaning of it all.

"Yes. All right," he said, raising both hands. "I surrender. I was distracted. Forgive me."

"I worry about us, taking the trail that we usually travel," Elrohir said, returning to the initial subject and his serious opinion about it. "This forest keeps its secrets hidden. Every year this place is more chilling."

"We are still in times of peace," Elladan reminded him, though on his face there was the same air of restlessness his twin was now exhibiting. It made them seem even more identical.

"Peace..." Elrohir snorted. "Why do I scarcely believe in that word?"

"Maybe it's because you enjoy conflict," Elladan answered, turning absently to look at the yellow flowers above. "I'll never be able to stop admiring a garden that grows in a place like this."

But Elrohir did not respond. And Elladan turned immediately to his brother, meeting a pair of darkened eyes he knew well. He promptly repeated to himself what he had said to finally realize that, indeed, although unintentional, there was a provocation in one of his last comments.

"Do not stare at me like that," Elladan said, defending himself. "You and I both know that the supposed peace of recent years bothers you."

"It's not the peaceful moments that concern me; it is what stays hidden, Dan."

"You have a suspicious nature, Ro. And I thought that this problem only affected the Edain people. Maybe your Adán blood is stronger than mine."

Elrohir rose, walking broodingly through the small garden and Elladan sighed, blaming himself again for always speaking his mind so openly.

"I am sorry, toron," he forced himself to say, while remaining in his place on the bench. "I understand your warrior instincts and know their value. I'm just trying to fool my heart for a few more years into believing we truly have peace... Would you allow me this pleasure?"

Elrohir remained silent, and then he sank onto the green grass and crossed his legs.

"Come on, Ro. Don't be cruel… talk to me."

"Why should I? You are not even listening to me. Why don't you continue admiring these yellow flowers that grow in this dark place?"

"And this fact does not impress you, toron nîn?" Elladan looked at him seriously now. "An army of soldiers who bravely fight against the evil touches your heart, but a wild tree that buries its roots under rock and can still give us such beautiful flowers in a place where there is almost no light does not even make you pause?"

Elrohir snorted in response.

"Do you admire only the heroic death, Ro? What about the life that resists? Life that overcomes the pitfalls, the impossibilities? Does it not fill you with wonder?"

Elrohir snorted again, moving uncomfortably. "I see it took you all day to make me feel bad, yet you seem to have accomplished it. You have been very competent in meeting your goals."

"If I have, I can only give thanks." Elladan wasn't affected by his twin's melodrama. "For it is a sign that you realize how radical you are sometimes."

"I am stupid, rude and heartless. I know. You do not need to remind me."

"Oh!" Elladan said, becoming frustrated then. "How many years will pass before you stop using these unfortunate adjectives you reserve for describing yourself?"

Elrohir snorted louder then. "You irritate me, Elladan. You annoy me more than anyone can. What a graceless ability you have!"

Silence overtook the older brother, who pressed his jaws together lightly. Elrohir looked at him no more, his bluster completely lost, mainly because he suddenly realized his brother was really angry, something that was very rare.

"I will not say anything else then," Elladan finally said, rising with a sigh of discomfort and stretching his body. He looked once more to the yellow tree and sighed, keeping his own opinions. "It was not my intention to irritate you, though you do that often enough to yourself."

"Where are you going?" Elrohir asked, watching his twin approach the garden gate.

"To my bedroom. I am tired."

"Of course! Why not?" The other twin grew angry again. "Enjoy the fact that here we each have a room so I will not annoy you for the rest of the day."

"You will join me soon, I'm well aware," Elladan said, a smile already lifting his lips. All nights were the same. He would barely lie down on his bed, and he would soon hear knocking on the bedroom door. Elrohir would slip into the room and under his brother's sheets, as an elfling who fears being alone in his own bed. Elladan could never understand that. The older twin was secretly grateful for his younger brother. Even after Elrohir had been consecrated one of Imladris' best warriors, earning his own patrol to captain, he still felt the need of his twin's presence, of exchanging the last words of the day with him, of wishing him goodnight.

"I will not," Elrohir vehemently denied.

"Then I will lock the door."

"Go ahead. Lock it."

Elladan pretended indifference, walking towards the gate and pulling the handle. Legolas shrunk back so as not to be seen.

"Dan," the elfling heard, as the twin still inside the garden called to his brother. Elladan was near Legolas now, but he hadn't seen him even when he turned to answer.

"What?"

"Do not lock the door," Elrohir said in a sad tone.

Elladan sighed, dropping his shoulders and smiling.

"Come here, toron." He gestured with his fingers, stretching out his hand. "It is getting dark; we must go into the palace before nana comes looking for us."

Elrohir approached slowly and when he was close enough, Elladan circled his brother's shoulders with his right arm, and they left the garden in an embrace.

Legolas watched them. It would be too good to have a brother, he thought. Too bad that his father did not even like hearing about that idea. Moreover, his father seemed to have no time lately to listen to any of his ideas.

"Dan…"

Legolas realized that the twins were still talking, walking slowly back to the entrance of the great hall. He then hastened to accompany them by sneaking behind large rocks scattered here and there along the path.

"What?" Elladan said.

"Do you think Thranduil has any power?"

"Power? What do you mean?"

"You know. Power. Like our father has."

"What I know is that only three rings were forged. One is with our father, the other with our grandmother and the third is in Mithrandir's wise hands. You know that also, don't you?"

"Yes, I know it. But the gates… Did you realize that they seem to open just by hearing the king's voice? I have asked people about that but nobody says a thing. It seems as a secret or something. However, I never see any elf push them open or any other kind of mechanism that could cause it to happen."

"It is a fact, Ro. I've noticed it, too. I think they do open by the will of the king. I have heard that the dwarves also have mastered a few powerful words for movement in the same manner. Mithrandir once told me that the gates of Moria are secured this way."

"Argh," Elrohir said theatrically, feigning disgust. "Why lock them? Who would want to go into a place like that?"

Elladan laughed.

"Every kind of creature, as you know well, toron nîn. Who would not wonder about the treasure the little ones dig for in those mines?"

The other twin went quiet, and then shook his head. The joke didn't seem so funny anymore.

"That ambition has been the ruin of many," he said solemnly. That subject seemed to have aroused some not so good memories.

"Ambition is not always a wise motivator." Elladan patted his brother's shoulder, noticing his change of mood. Nobody knew Elrohir better than his twin.

"Definitely not," Elrohir said then, and his tone was of one who wants to see a subject closed.

At least that was Legolas' impression. He frowned, tilting his face to one side. He was still watching the brothers, who had stopped before the steps in front of the door that let into the great hall to continue their conversation. The movement within the cave had slowed with the closing of the day.

What would ambition be, the elfling asked himself, remembering he had seen that word before in one of his readings, but could not recall the meaning of it. He edged upward a bit from the stone behind which he was hiding, trying to see why the twins were silent now. To his surprise, they were both standing directly in front of him. He hadn't even heard them approaching.

He looked at those two pairs of big gray eyes, while his face lost all color. He gulped, taking a step back, his eyes still fixed on the two brothers. Both were looking at him with seriousness, their smooth white faces with no expression, their gray eyes even brighter. The one on the right had both hands on his hips, and the one on the left had his arms crossed in front of his chest. They didn't seem very pleased.

"Toron," the twin who had his arms crossed said, lifting his chin. "I think we were being spied upon."

Legolas' eyes widened even more and he felt his vision darken from embarrassment and fear.

"You were... were talking," he mumbled, lowering his head shyly. "I... did not want to interrupt. Nana says that it is impolite to interrupt adults when... when they are talking... about... important issues..." he tried to explain, even though he thought that was the most useless advice he had ever heard. After all, adults always seemed to be talking about important issues. It would be easier if his mother had just told him to never interrupt adult elves' conversations at all.

The other twin clicked his tongue, lowering his unreadable eyes to meet Legolas', which were very easily read.

"And what has your nana said about listening to other people's conversations, little prince?" he teased, receiving a slight poke from his older brother.

Legolas bit his lower lip, and although it seemed impossible to be believed, he grew even paler. He seemed so terribly sorry that the younger twin began to regret the comment he had made.

"I... I had no... no intention..." the prince said, trying to apologize. "Dan... Ro... please... do... do not be angry... do not be angry with me... I am... sorry... I..."

Elladan was the first to feel uncomfortable with the small joke they were playing. He frowned upon hearing the child's anxious voice. What did Legolas fear so much? Was all his unease because he thought they might be angry? He crouched down at once and pulled the little elf closer, so that he could sit on one of his knees.

"It is all right, pen-neth," he said with a reassuring smile. "Who can be angry with an elfling like you, eh?" he asked then, gently shaking the prince and kissing his temple. "I only regret that you heard so bitter a conversation."

Legolas nodded in complete silence. He was happy that one of the twins (he thought it was Elladan, but he was never sure) was not angry with him. He looked at the other twin, who was still standing, still looking angry and still holding both hands on his hips.

Elrohir's lips tightened when he saw those bright blue eyes turn toward him, but he kept his mask firmly in place. He couldn't miss this opportunity to have some fun.

"Do not be angry..." the little prince repeated, and Elladan looked sternly at his brother, reading Elrohir's intention as he always did and sending him a clear message advising Elrohir not to play any cruel games with the frightened child.

"Elrohir is not angry," he said, still staring at his brother. "Are you, Ro?"

"Of course I am!" Elrohir answered, and the older twin felt like punching him right there in front of the small child.

Legolas shuddered and Elladan wrapped him in his arms and this time became angry indeed. There was something wrong with this situation, something only the heart of a healer seemed to be able to feel. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he wanted to end this situation immediately.

"Elrohir," he tried again, his tone even more severe. "Stop scaring the little one, or you and I will have a serious talk right here."

The twin provocatively stretched his neck, and Elladan took an incredulous breath. That was Elrohir; if you wanted him to stop something, the last thing you should do is tell him that. He was the most infuriating elf he had known and seemed to take a special pleasure in being exactly as he was. Would it really be necessary to teach his brother a good lesson, after all the years they had shared?

"We will have a talk then." Elrohir moved towards his brother, raising both fists. "This is how two warriors solve their problems. Come on, don't be a coward."

"What?" Elladan frowned. "Do you want me to fight with you?"

"Of course not!" Elrohir said, looking at Legolas. "My problem is with the warrior you are holding there. You can let him go now, Dan. Let him come here and we will have a talk."

It took Elladan a few moments to understand the folly his twin had converted into words.

"Elrohir, are you mad or..."

"Come on, Dan! Release him at once. Let me show this coward elfling some good manners."

Elladan frowned for a moment, recognizing a brightness that he knew very well in his brother's eyes. It was a delicious glow of pleasure that only the youngest of the twins seemed to possess. Yes, Elrohir was enjoying himself, and, despite Elladan's trepidation about the situation, he knew it was always worthwhile to go along with his twin when he had that look about him.

"Come here. Come," the dark haired elf repeated, staring at the shuddering elfling Elladan was holding. "Stop being a coward."

"Ro... No, please..." Legolas continued to plead, hiding his face in Elladan's chest. He seemed to be sure now of who was provoking him. Only Elrohir would do that. He was the most humorous of the twins, but also the most short-tempered. He raised his eyes a bit, undecided about which decision to make. When Elladan moved him away from his chest and looked into his eyes, he trembled again. "Dan... Explain to him that I did not mean it."

"I don't want any explanation," Elrohir said, not giving his brother the chance to say anything. "What kind of spineless prince are you, eh? You need to be taught a lesson. Come here!"

"I think you better go, Las," Elladan finally said. He was still unsure about what the consequences of what they were doing might be, especially after receiving an even more surprised look from the elfling, who panicked even more, but he decided to trust his brother's instincts. "Listen, penig, Elrohir is the captain. We must to do what he says."

"Dan... no... please..."

Elladan gave Legolas no chance to continue, he just stood up and walked away before his better judgment won out. He took a few steps back, discretely checking around them to make sure no one had noticed this misunderstanding.

Legolas found himself in front of the angry younger twin, who gestured impatiently for him to approach.

"Come on, elfling. Let me show you what I do with people like you. Let me show you how it is to be under my command."

The poor prince bit his lower lip hard, apprehensive, not knowing how to escape from the terrifying situation. He then closed his eyes and hugged his body.

"You will not cry will you?" the dark haired elf asked disdainfully, approaching Legolas now. The little elf drew back a little until he was suddenly grabbed by Elrohir and tickled without mercy.

Legolas first panicked, then started laughing, too, but in between gasps he implored the twin to free him.

"Give up, elfling. I have told you. I'm a cruel warrior."

"Ro... please..." he begged among bouts of laughter, almost breathless.

Elladan then crossed his arms and shook his head, watching the scene and thinking of the things he had said to his twin back in the garden. Accusing Elrohir of insensitivity, saying he had no eyes for life, was really a great injustice.

"Let him go now, toron nîn," he said, seeing the elfling's much reddened face. "Have mercy."

"That's what I want to hear!" Elrohir said, suddenly stopping his attack on the small prince, and Legolas opened his eyes, still being held tightly by the older elf. "Ask for mercy, elfling!" he commanded, restarting his cruel torture.

Legolas began to laugh again, and he would have asked for mercy several times if he had been able to say anything.

"Ro ... ple... a… se .."

"Ask for mercy, elfling..."

"Mer... cy..."

"AH!" Elrohir stopped again, but did not release his victim. "Now say that I am the greatest warrior; the best you know, or I will continue torturing you."

The elfling smiled then, wiping the tears from his reddened face.

"You do not need to make me do that," he assured him, resting his head on the twin's chest. "Because you are among the three best fighters of Arda to me."

Elrohir frowned, but his heart missed a beat with the little child's declaration.

"I do not know…" he tried to compose himself. "With whom do I share this title?"

"With my ada and Elladan," Legolas replied with sincerity. "You are indeed the best and most feared warriors of all of Arda."

Elrohir pressed his lips together, and then he turned his eyes to his brother, who smiled at him, standing just a step away. He looked at the prince, who frowned at the expression in the twin's eyes.

"Are you angry again, Ro?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Why would I be?"

"Because I have compared you to other warriors?"

A smile escaped the younger twin's lips and Elrohir rose, taking Legolas in his arms. The prince laid his head on the dark haired elf's shoulder for a moment and sighed.

"Are you really not angry?"

"I am not," the twin replied, stroking the child's back gently. He kissed his forehead then and put him on the ground. "I will be honest with you, Las. I do not know if I deserve to share a place with elves of such magnitude. Especially with someone as powerful as your ada."

Legolas grinned at the mention of his father's name. He was very excited to know that these elves, who were his heroes, shared his opinion of the king.

"My ada has faced many battles," he said with excitement. "They say there is peace, but he always faces terrible monsters in the forest. He is very brave, is he not, Elrohir?"

The elf's brow furrowed. "Does your ada tell you about the battles he faces in the Forest?" he asked, and the elfling paled again.

"No... Ro... He... He never tells me anything."

Elrohir could not believe those words. His warrior instincts suddenly shouted at him, as if he were in a full field of war. He looked up; searching for confirmation or clarification in his brother about what was bothering him. But Elladan was much more serious than was his usual manner. He did not even return Elrohir's glance; his attention was drawn by something behind his twin. Elrohir felt a strange chill run unpleasantly down his spine. He turned slowly to confirm what his instincts were screaming and to find out what had piqued his brother's interest.

"Elladan, Elrohir." Thranduil's voice sounded firm. "I advise you to come into the inner rooms now. Soon it will be dark, even inside the garden. I do not like the lamps to be lit in vain."

"Yes, your majesty," the twins replied in unison and Elrohir instinctively took Legolas' hand, noticing that the child seemed to have paled even more when he saw his father. He didn't know why but the Elven King wasn't pleased at all, and the reason didn't seem to be simply their presence in this place when it was getting dark. Could Thranduil have heard something that he would not approve of? "Come on, Las," proposed the young twin.

"The prince will come in a few minutes," Thranduil corrected, grasping his son's arm. Legolas trembled, but bowed his head at once.

Elrohir looked into the King's eyes, unconsciously holding Legolas' hand tighter as if not intending to release it, but Elladan gently pulled his brother's arm as he passed him.

"Come on, toron," he said, and smiled at Legolas, trying to assure his little friend that they would be around if he needed them. "Our mother must be waiting for us inside."

Elrohir hardened his body, as stubborn as he always was, but Elladan tightened his grip on his twin's arm, making clear that he was unwilling to discuss anything right now.

"Come on, Elrohir. Let's obey the King's orders."

Elrohir finally let the Prince's cold hand slip from his, although he was very unhappy at having to do it. He looked at the King once more, whose gaze did not falter from his for a moment.

"Your son is a very smart elfling, your majesty," he said.

"I know," Thranduil replied. "But he is not as smart as I need him to be."

Legolas lowered his face and Elladan tugged on Elrohir's arm again, asking for pardon from father and son, and nearly dragging his twin up the steps.


Now that he was alone with his father, Legolas felt that there was no way to avoid a conflict. He kept his head low and trembled when he felt the King squat before him while holding his arm a little tighter.

"Say it!" he commanded.

"Say... say... what, a… ada? "

"Tell me why I will punish you as soon as Lady Celebrian and her children are gone."

Punish. The small elf repeated that bitter word to himself as his eyes filled with tears.

"If you cry, the punishment will be doubled. I advise you, Legolas. Do not come to me with these childish tricks. You are already a grown elfling!"

Legolas closed his eyes again, swallowing a sob and trying to contain his tears. He had really bad luck; he had not even noticed when his father had arrived. It was as if he was always in the wrong place and saying exactly the wrong things.

"Say it!" Thranduil repeated, and the child gulped.

"You are going to punish me... because I... I told the twins about your fights in the forest."

"That is not the reason."

That was not the reason. Legolas knew that. The reason was one that always set father and son against each other. Only one subject was worse in his relationship with his father than his desire to leave the cave so that he could see a bit of the forest. And that was the one they were going to talk about now.

"I... I do not know... I do not know, ada... Do not be angry," he mumbled, still trying to avoid what he feared was an inevitable battle.

Thranduil shook his arm then. "Stop trying to deceive me. You must think you are pretty smart to use such tactics."

Give it up, foolish elfling, Legolas thought, but he silenced that inner voice sadly. He knew there was no turning back now that his father was so angry with him. It would take long days of Thranduil's coldness, even with the received punishment, before the King would forgive him or even pretend that he had forgotten what he had done. He pressed his eyes closed, hating himself for letting it happen again.

"Say it!" Thranduil ordered one last time.

"I will be punished because... I have talked about... I have talked about the things I... the things I see... "

"About the things you dream of," Thranduil corrected him emphatically, and Legolas clenched his fists. Over the years he was sure that the images he usually saw were not just dreams. Why did his father insist on trying to make him believe otherwise?

"But I did not tell them that..."

"Legolas!" Thranduil said in warning, raising the tone of his voice, interrupting him, and the child swallowed the words he knew were not part of what his father wanted to hear.

"I told them about the things I dream of..." he said, unwillingly correcting his last words, lowering his sad face. "Things which are not real."

"What will your punishment be?" the King asked, standing up again and looking around.

Legolas sighed. He understood his father well enough to know what it meant when he did that. The subject was closed. And from that moment on he would not offer him even a look or a word. It was always thus.

"I will stay in my room until ada ... ada allows me to leave," he sadly answered.

"Very well," Thranduil said, clasping his hands behind his back, and Legolas looked up at him. His father's blond curls slid over his brown robe as infinite intertwined gold rings, some of them captives of heavy braids. On his head was the spring crown the Queen made for her husband every morning, and he always wore it, just to please her. Elbereth, how Legolas loved him; why did his father have to be so angry with him again?

"Forgive me, ada," he said, and the King slightly shuddered. Legolas did not know what kind of emotion could arouse such a reaction. Was it love? Was it hate?

Thranduil filled his chest with a deep breath and stiffened his shoulders.

"Fulfill your princely obligations, Legolas," he said, moving slowly toward the steps. "And you will never have to ask me for forgiveness."

Then he walked away, climbed the steps and opened the door separating the gardens from the cave and left with no other word.

How long until he would see him again? The King rarely shared his meals when there were visitors in the kingdom. And now he would not see his father even after Lady Celebrian and her family were gone. Legolas closed his eyes and hid his face behind his hands. The tears finally came. Then he sat on the steps, unwilling to go, unwilling to do anything.


In time the tears decreased and he just clung to his knees and sat, watching the last elves going home. Soon he would only see them from the balcony of his room. Ilúvatar, was it not enough being stuck in this cave? Would he now have to stay in the room that he hated without even the chance to sleep in his mother's tree out in the garden? He tried hard not to despair.

He felt someone sit beside him, then, and gently slide a hand through his hair.

"You left me waiting," a sweet voice said.

It startled him. "Arwen... I... I'm sorry," he replied, embarrassed. Ilúvatar, he had forgotten the reason why he went to look for the twins and had left the young lady of Imladris waiting for him all this time. He was a fool, a useless one. His father was right. He was incapable of doing anything correctly.

"It is all right, Las," the beautiful elf calmly assured, wiping away the tears that were still on the prince's pale face. Legolas hid himself immediately, feeling ashamed once more. It was the perfect complement for a day like his had been: Arwen seeing him crying. He began to feel his father's punishment was not a bad idea; he should stay in his room eternally.

"I... I was coming back... Forgive me..." he said, trying to apologize and escape from this embarrassing situation while wiping his face with both palms.

"Las... what happened?"

"Nothing, Undomiel..."

"But you are sad now. And you were not when you left the room to look for my brothers. Tell me, Las. Did Elrohir upset you with one of his jokes?"

"No," Legolas said, immediately defending the twin. "The El are good to me... Both of them… I have them here." He put his hand over his heart and Arwen smiled, making the prince wish to hide his face again because of embarrassment.

"So... You are crying about someone else," the dark haired young lady deduced, and Legolas shuddered.

"No… I am not crying about anyone… I am not…" he tried to say, but as he stared into the Lady's questioning eyes, the elfling felt that he did not want to lie anymore. He didn't want to lie, he didn't want to have to think about every word he said. It was not fair. Why was he not as the other children he knew? Why wasn't he as Alagos and Thavanian? Why wasn't he the same way they were, always making their fathers proud, always making their fathers smile? Elbereth! He just wanted to be himself, but he couldn't. He couldn't be himself, because not even he was sure who or what he was.

"Las… Tell me what's wrong… I want to help you," he heard Arwen's gentle voice saying, and this time he wasn't brave enough to look at her.

"There's nothing wrong, Undomiel." He shook his head, praying to all the good keepers of the world to help him convince his friend of something not even he believed. "I am… I am just… tired… and…" he continued, risking another look into the young lady elf's beautiful eyes. It would have been better if he hadn't done that, because Arwen's serene eyes were still unconvinced and, worse than that, looking for a true answer. It was not right for him to be lying. He should tell the truth, even though it was a half-truth. "I... I cannot tell you, Arwen. I... If I say anything I... I cannot..."

"It is alright..." Arwen wrapped Legolas tenderly in her arms. She seemed convinced or at least satisfied for the moment. "There are things that do not need to be told, Las. I understand."

"I… I am sorry Undomiel…" Legolas felt touched by the lady's attitude. It was a relief to know she would not question him anymore. He was already in too much trouble for what he had done. He didn't want to know he had offended or wounded his good and gentle friend.

Arwen breathed deeply, then moved Legolas a bit away from her to look into his eyes. Legolas allowed it but was caught by the sadness he saw.

"I am really sorry…" he said again, but Arwen just covered his lips with her fingers and forced a smile.

"Will you allow me to give you advice? Advice from someone who has seen more trees being born and dying than you?"

Legolas looked her in the eyes again, then he nodded in silence, and Arwen put her hand on his chest, bringing him immense peace.

"My little friend." She smiled at him and her words seemed to come from a dream. "Do not let sadness invade your heart because of the ideas your mind creates; the ideas you have about yourself, the ideas you think others have about you. Do not grieve for what you think you feel about yourself or for what you might think people feel about you, even if you think it must be true. Every single thing that happens to us has a reason, every single word we hear, every single step we take. Everyone has a destiny to fulfill. Some steps are easier, some are not. But we can't run away from our paths, we have to keep walking, we have to keep believing. So, when you feel confused about yourself or what is around you, believe only in what is certain inside you, right here." She gently applied pressure with the hand that was still on the prince's chest. "And never, I assure you, I assure you by all the stars of the sky, will you be mistaken."

Legolas clamped his lips together and then two tears rolled from his eyes. Arwen pulled him close and embraced him tenderly, kissing him on the top of his head.

"So," she said, her voice also choked with emotion. "Do you not remember why you left my room?"

Legolas frowned. "Oh…" he said, as he remembered.

"Then what are you waiting for? Go call them. I will wait for you in my room."


"But did you see the way he treats him, Dan?" Elrohir said as he walked angrily into his brother's room.

"Speak more quietly, Ro. Are you forgetting whom are we judging here? You cannot just talk about the King in his own palace. At the very least it shows a tremendous lack of diplomacy."

"And what do you call what he did there at the entrance?"

"Let us close this issue that does not concern us. I feel like these walls have ears, Ro. These foreign places are very different from ours. You cannot imagine the intrigues that might be a part of it. I do not want any distorted story making its way to Thranduil's ears."

Elrohir clicked his tongue. He really cared little for what the King thought of him. Elladan gave him a serious look.

"Damn it, Dan. You know that I am right."

"I know. But you also know that I am right as well."

The younger twin let out another sound of indignation, sitting heavily on his brother's bed. Elladan sat beside him and placed his hand on one of Elrohir's legs, squeezing his knee, as he always did when he wanted him to calm down.

"You will only find trouble, Ro. Quiet your spirit. Please do not forget that the one responsible for us here is our naneth."

The angry dark haired elf sighed deeply, trying to follow the advice received, when he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in, please," Elladan said.

The door opened and Legolas' sad face smiled at them.

"May I?" he asked politely, and Elladan smiled as well, sliding a few inches across the mattress to create a space between him and his brother.

"Of course, pen-neth," he said, placing his hand on the bed beside him. "Come sit with us."

Legolas took an uncertain step into the room, and then looked at the other twin, awaiting his approval as well. Elrohir smiled at him, indicating the place at his side with a slight movement of his head. The prince then hastened to sit between the brothers.

"So. What were you doing?" Elladan asked, helping him to sit.

"Nothing," Legolas replied shyly. "I have just come to do what Undomiel had asked me to do before, but I had forgotten."

"And what was that?"

"Call you both."

"And where is she now?"

"She's in her room."

"Indeed. I remember our sister was teaching you how to draw landscapes. Am I right?"

Legolas stopped briefly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes... Undomiel asked me to call you to see the work I did," he said, a bit insecure. "But if you cannot go now, there will not be a problem, Dan."

"Wait just a moment, Legolas..." Elrohir said in a challenging tone. "This interests me greatly. Did you finally manage to paint a sun that does not look like a fried egg?"

Elladan gave his brother a reproachful look, but Legolas fell into a fit of laughter, placing both hands over his mouth.

"Apparently not," finished the twin, standing up and taking the blonde prince's hand. "But I will take my chances to see your drawing. Are you coming, Dan? "

The older twin smiled, shaking his head at Elrohir's mocking tone. How people were still amused by Elrohir's sarcasm was something that the eldest son of Elrond had given up trying to understand. He also stood, lazily stretching his body.

"And I'm sure he will surprise us," he said, following the other two and putting a hand on Legolas' shoulder, who smiled at him.

"Of course he will," Elrohir said, prodding a bit more. He did not seem willing to go in the direction that Elladan wanted to take. "There are always different ways to draw a fried egg. What color did you make it this time, Legolas? That blue one you made is definitely among my favorites."

Legolas laughed again and Elladan shook his head once more. Elrohir's ability was a special mystery. It definitely was. A mystery without a shadow of explanation.


When the trio arrived at the guest room where the beautiful daughter of Celebrian was staying, they found her standing in front of the painting on which she had been working since she arrived. It was a portrait of Imladris Legolas had asked for, and that the lady had painted with care and affection. Elladan stopped beside his sister, looking at the landscape with a wistful gaze.

"It is perfect, little princess," he said. "Do you not agree, Elrohir?"

The twin approached as well, taking the other side of their younger sister and analyzing the picture carefully. He twisted his lips, bent his head from one side to the other, shifted his stance a little and scratched his chin. He folded his arms, letting time pass painfully without giving his opinion, just because he knew it would annoy his sister terribly. In Imladris, there was a unanimous opinion that Elrohir was the best artist in the whole region. That was why his opinion was so important to his sister.

"You are cruel, toron nîn," the beautiful elf complained at last. "I hope you are having fun."

Elrohir lifted the corner of his mouth, seemingly pleased with the feeling he'd aroused. Then he turned to the elfling who had quietly approached the group and now was in front of the canvas with lips slightly open and a dreamy look on his face.

"What do you think, little one?" he asked. "Is this landscape convincing?"

Legolas glanced at him immediately, looking as if he had just woken up. What had Elrohir asked him? If the landscape was convincing?

"What does convincing mean, Elrohir?"

The three of them laughed and Arwen took the prince's little hand.

"It means to look real, Las," she explained with a simple smile. "Does it look real?"

"No," Legolas responded immediately and Arwen frowned, unable to disguise her disappointment. She looked at the picture again. It was the portrait of the center of Rivendell, the steps in front, the side yard where her father liked to read, the spring trees adorned with new leaves and the great hedge with the red flowers that embraced the entire side of the house. She turned then to the prince, who seemed not to have noticed the sad feeling he had awakened. He kept his eyes fixed on the landscape.

Elladan, who seemed to be the only one who realized the meaning of the elfling's answer, sighed.

"Legolas, could you tell Undomiel why you do not think her painting is convincing?" he asked in a calm tone, and the elfling looked again to the brothers, before turning to look at the beautiful landscape.

"Because it cannot be real," he replied with the sincerity that all children have. "Only if it is Aman. Nana told me that Valinor is the most beautiful place. We have some pictures of it in the books on the shelf of my ada's office."

Arwen sighed then, looking at her brothers. Elladan smiled and Elrohir winked at her, putting his arm around her shoulders and squeezing them slightly.

"It is perfect, little princess," he also assured.

"Thank you," she said with her nightingale voice. She knelt in front of the little blond prince. Legolas looked at her without understanding, turning his face to the canvas once more.

"Arwen, does this place really exist? Do you live there?"

"Of course it does, Little Squirrel," she assured in a friendly tone. "And yes, we live there, and when you are older, we will take you there."

Legolas smiled broadly then, looking at the painting with fresh eyes.

"Are you really going to give it to me?"

"Yes," Arwen said in a satisfied voice, standing up again. "It was yours since before I brushed the first colors onto the canvas."

The elfling sighed heavily then and went to stand only a few inches before the work. He was so in love with the place in the picture that he had not even remembered to thank the lady for the present.

Elrohir noted the prince's interest carefully.

"When I return to Rivendell I will also make some drawings of the city to bring to you when next we visit," he promised, and Legolas nodded, still staring at the details of Arwen's beautiful painting.

"It is still so hard to believe that such a place exists," he said, taking a deep breath. The brothers looked at each other and smiled, thinking how different the forests where he lived were from the land their father had created for the peace of his people.

"Well," Elrohir said, cutting the silence and rubbing his hands. "When are we going to see your landscape?"

Legolas then turned pale again, looking worriedly at Arwen now. The young lady smiled gently and Elladan approached the elfling.

"Show us, Legolas. Elrohir will not tease you," he assured, casting a stern look at his younger brother that made him the most faithful copy of their father. The twin, however, was not intimidated, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I cannot promise that," he said in a mocking tone, but this time he was surprised that Legolas had not laughed. The little elf seemed very concerned by the fact that he was being obliged to show his work.

"Show them, Legolas," Arwen encouraged him.

"But ..." he said, beginning to argue.

"But what, elfling?" Elrohir asked. "What have you done with your landscape this time? Do not tell me you painted a moss green sky as you did in your first work? You should stop changing nature that way," he advised smiling. "The Valar may want to hire your services."

Legolas clamped his lips together nervously and Elrohir let his arms fall to his sides, finally deciding to be serious.

"What is wrong, Legolas?" he asked somberly. "It is just a picture. I promise I will not make any comments if that is what is bothering you."

"It is not that."

"So what, pen-neth?"

"It is that I... I..."

"You…?"

"I did not paint..." he walked slowly back to his painting, which was covered by a white cloth.

"You did not paint what?" the twin asked as he approached, encouraging him. His brother and sister did the same.

"I did not paint ..." he repeated, trying to explain as he pulled fearfully at the white cloth. "I did not paint a landscape."

"So what did you paint?" Elrohir asked, walking toward the canvas in order to decipher Legolas' puzzling behavior.

But the elfling did not respond. He just joined his hands nervously in front of himself, and the twins, totally disconcerted, looked at the painting before them.

"Ilúvatar." Elrohir had no power to even think of anything to say. "It ... is... "

"It is perfect ..." Elladan completed, gaping.

Before them, painted with an impressive richness of detail, was a portrait of the two brothers. Elrohir, with serious and dark eyes, was holding a sword, but the corners of his lips were lifted in a slight smile. Elladan was carrying a huge bow, holding two arrows nocked in the string together. The twins recognized themselves immediately, their roles portrayed without any shadow of doubt.

"He has excelled his limits, has he not, El?" Arwen said as she approached, stopping behind her brothers. "A reasonable landscape artist, but the best portrait painter I have ever seen. He painted without a model before him. He is better than you are, Elrohir."

"But I had a model," Legolas revealed, tightening his lips after saying that, as if he were suddenly worried about what he had just admitted. The twins turned to him with a questioning look.

"What model, Legolas?" Elrohir asked immediately. "You never saw us at a war camp… And we have never trained here."

The elfling then paled. He hated to see he had slipped again in speaking of the subject that his father had forbidden him to talk about. Wasn't the reprimand he had just received sufficient?

"I... I ..." he muttered, trying to think of something plausible to say. "I saw... I saw you here…" he finally said, putting his fingers to his temple.

"Did you dream about us?" Elladan asked, and Legolas nodded, insecure. Elladan frowned as if mystified, and turned toward his sister by his side. "Undomiel, have you told the little one war stories?"

Arwen frowned, her eyes joining those of her brother.

"I will ignore your question, toron nîn," she responded very seriously, also troubled.

Elladan sighed, turning now to his twin.

"And you, Elrohir? Tell me the truth! We all know that little ears should not hear about certain subjects."

Elrohir crossed his arms and his eyes darkened.

"I have good hearing, Elladan. And I know to respect our naneth's requests."

Legolas fearfully followed the brothers' discussion.

"Nobody told me anything," he explained in a weak and scared voice, approaching his work, and removing it from the easel.

"What are you going to do, Legolas?" Arwen asked, seeing the elfling walk toward the door.

"Throw this picture into the fire. It was not a good idea to paint it. Nor was the work as good as I wanted."

"No!" the three siblings shouted in unison.

"If you do not want the picture, give it to me as a gift then." The lady took the painting out of the prince's hands. "A work of this magnitude does not deserve such a terrible end."

Legolas had stilled, looking at the work he had done, now held by the Evenstar.

"I painted it to remind me of them," he admitted then, already saddened by having to discard it. "But if you want it, Arwen, I give it to you with all my heart."

The young lady offered a sad smile, now kneeling before the prince.

"Have you really dreamed about my brothers?" she asked, and Legolas cringed where he was, hugging his body, the tone of his blue eyes changing strangely, and he looked as if he feared the twins might think badly of him as they stood behind their sister. Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, puzzled. How the little prince could have discovered that Elladan preferred using the bow and arrow instead of the sword was a mystery, considering that, even in ambushes, Elladan always opted for using the sword first, like any warrior of the group.

"Did you dream about us, pen-neth?" the older twin asked again, kneeling down beside his sister.

Legolas nodded, afraid, thinking that the idea of a dream could fit as a satisfactory explanation. Elladan continued to look at him for a few moments, seeming to be unconvinced. He then sighed and smiled, extending his arm and pulling the prince to sit with him on Arwen's bed.

"I have to say that I like your painting very much," he said, looking now directly at Elrohir. "Have I not told you the little one would surprise you, toron nîn?"

The twins exchanged a meaningful glance, then the youngest smiled back, seeming ready to quit the subject for now.

"This is called inspiration," Elrohir said then, placing a clean canvas on the easel where Legolas' had been. "Sit there with them, Little Star," he said, and Arwen seemed fascinated, but obeyed, sitting beside the prince and leaving Legolas between her and Elladan.

"What is he going to do, Arwen?" Legolas asked, curious, seeing the younger twin casually mix some different colored paints. The Lady's eyes were bright. The dexterity with which Elrohir was handling the artist's tools was so fascinating that, while performing his work, he didn't seem like an elf at all. He seemed like one of the Valar, coloring the world in his own way.

"He will paint our picture, Las," she replied in a choked voice and Legolas frowned.

"Do you mean we will have to stay here for days until he finishes it?"

Elrohir laughed then, holding one of the brushes between his teeth while mixing the paint with two others. Without knowing it he was mixing colors together that would create one of the best memories Legolas would have of them for a very long time.

And that, despite contrary promises of the sons of Celebrian, was the last time Legolas saw the twins and their sister together in Thranduil's Kingdom. The picture Elrohir had painted, as well as Arwen's, were the only personal objects Legolas kept of his own accord in his bedroom, even after his mother was gone. He had kept them hidden in one of the wardrobes, and when he was missing them all too much, even when he was already a grown elf, he would crawl inside that wardrobe just so that he could see them, to remember those faces and their affection that time could not erase.