Agony weaved through his bones, lighting up every nerve in his body like lightning in the night sky as it laid a demanding grip on him. His lungs clenched in painful spasms and his muscles felt as though they would fray at the slightest movement.

But he fought on.

His dark gray eyes rested on the frightened pale face in front of him, even as his vision dangerously wavered toward the blackness threatening its edges. The little elfling trembling against him was his top priority, no matter the cost to himself.

He would save Legolas, even if he died trying.

A headache threatened at the temples of Queen Lanthir. Her dark hair was pulled over one shoulder, the mahogany braids reflecting the fire dying in the stone fireplace just feet away. She would have to ask one of the servants to stoke it soon.

"My lady, what of the trade dispute in the northern colonies? Surely it is of no consequence?"

Gathon, one of the king's many advisors, looked at the queen in expectation. The small council meeting had been going on for hours and it felt as though nothing was accomplished. Trade agreements and smaller civil disputes were handled by Queen Lanthir, unless they required the attention of the king.

But lately, Lanthir had been unable to focus on these meetings. She missed the trees and the forest, felt cut off and confined by the stone walls of the palace. Lanthir longed for the rivers and streams of her childhood and the waterfalls for which she was named.

It had been far too long since she had been able to step away from councilors and advisors, and meetings she felt had dragged on too long. Nothing had been solved, the queen had merely sat back and watched as the councilors argued about petty things.

Lanthir met the eyes of her most trusted advisor, Elhael, and frowned. It was clear that he was as tired of these proceedings as she was. And if he was tired, then she knew the point was moot. If she let it go on much longer, the meeting would stretch into the evening.

"Gentleman," she stood, resisting the urge to stretch her arms over her head. "I think that is enough for today."

She said nothing more as she strode from the chamber, glancing one last time at the now-dead fire in the hearth. The moment she exited, she smirked slightly at the shocked expressions on the councilor's faces.

"I was beginning to wonder when you would tire of their incessant arguing."

Elhael fell into step next to the queen, angling his silver-haired head toward her. Lanthir slowed her pace to allow the elf to walk more comfortably, his limp preventing him from walking any quicker.

Elhael had been wounded in the Last Alliance, saving the life of King Oropher's advisor, Galion. He paid the price, losing the mobility he'd enjoyed in his youth. He'd given up his role as a warrior and followed his friend Galion, becoming an advisor instead. He and Galion were, in Lanthir's opinion, the most level-headed of Mirkwood's advisors.

"It seems as though they cannot focus on anything beyond their own differences," the elf continued. "It is a shame they can't agree on even something as simple as trade agreements."

"Ai," Lanthir sighed. "If I have to hear one more argument this day, I think I shall lose my mind."

Elhael chuckled and then stopped walking, turning to face the queen.

"Then I fear for your sanity, my queen," his dark-blue eyes danced with mirth. "For that is all councilors do."

Lanthir grinned at his now-retreating form, for they had reached his destination. Among the troubles within the kingdom, at least Lanthir and Thranduil had advisors they could count on.

The shadow that laid over the forest in the south had grown thicker, suffocating their joyful elven inhabitants. The elves of Greenwood were now calling their home Mirkwood. They had been doing so for far too long, it seemed.

Orcs and spiders took up residence in their beloved trees, driving the elves back further each year, making peace and safety a distant memory. King Thranduil spent his days planning new strategies to fight the shadow, agonizing over having to send his children out on patrols.

Calaeron and Faervere, the oldest princes, were commanders in the king's army. The shadow around Mirkwood had grown denser than ever before, slowly suffocating the light. The patrols throughout the forest fought back packs of orcs and took down spider's nests, though the shadow pressed on. It seemed that for every foul creature they slew, two more rose in its place.

Lanthir often worried that one day, one of her children wouldn't come home. She was endlessly grateful that her youngest, Legolas, was still an elfling, and she wouldn't need to fear for his safety for many years to come.

"Naneth!"

The queen was pulled from her musings by the voice of her oldest child, the Crown Prince Calaeron, who had just emerged from the chamber across from the one Elhael had entered. Lanthir smiled broadly, pleased to see his face. Her darker blue eyes locked onto his lighter ones and she stepped into a quick hug before they both began walking down the palace halls.

Calaeron had returned from a long and stressful patrol nearly two weeks ago. It was the longest the crown prince had spent in the palace in more than a year. Unfortunately, he'd also been dragged into dull council meetings. She could see the frustration written all over his young face, so much like Thranduil's it made her heart warm every time she saw him.

"Is it just me, or have all of our councilors lost their minds?"

Lanthir let out a shocked, amused laugh.

"No, ion nin, it is not just you."

Calaeron shook his head and placed his mother's arm in his own, gently guiding her down the hall. It was not often they were able to spend time alone in each other's company.

They approached the courtyard just in time to hear the hoof beats of an approaching patrol. She couldn't help the anticipation that flooded her, wondering just which of her loved ones were finally returning.

Faervere was still on patrol and had been for many weeks. He and Calaeron often traded turns in the palace. They were almost never home at the same time.

The patrol approached, led by Commander Thallion. Just the sight of the black-haired elf eased Lanthir's worry over the elf she had raised as a son.

Thallion was one of the Avari and had lived in Mirkwood for most of his life, though Avari typically lived in the forest and were known as "wild elves." The elf's family had been murdered by orcs before Thallion had come of age.

Thallion was taken in by King Thranduil himself, through much prodding from the queen, after the king's patrol had found him wounded and unconscious amongst his dead kin. He was nursed back to health and became a member of the royal family, pledging to protect the very family which had saved him as a child.

It had taken Thallion many years to heal from the loss of his Avarin family, but he had grown close to the king's children. The Crown Prince, Calaeron, grew to love him as a younger brother and Thallion became an instant older brother to Prince Faervere when he was born.

But it was Legolas whom he adored most, for he reminded the Avar of the little brother he'd lost. His own brother, Pellion, had been little more than an infant at the time of his death. There had been something in Legolas' eyes which drew Thallion to him, capturing his heart the moment he laid eyes on the newborn.

It was something that Legolas had never really been told, though the elfling was observant enough to know that something terrible had happened to his older brother.

Finally, the patrol entered the courtyard, allowing Lanthir and Calaeron a closer look at their kin.

The entire group looked beyond exhausted, but none more than their leader. It was obvious that Thallion had sacrificed his own precious rest for his elves' comfort. They listened to the dark-haired elf order his warriors home to their families, promising "punishment" if they did not rest.

Judging by the worn-out smiles on their faces, they sensed no malice in his words.

"Do you plan on heeding your own advice, Muindor nin?"

Calaeron had left the queen's side and stood, arms crossed, just in front of Thallion's horse. His eyes searched the other elf, looking for injuries and sighing in relief at seeing none. The elf looked exhausted, but appeared to be uninjured for once.

Thallion disembarked his steed and clasped arms with Calaeron, chuckling at the crown prince's words.

"Once I have seen to my wounded, Your Highness," he teased, his voice filled with weariness but his eyes flashing with amusement. "I will do so."

Thallion then turned and, upon seeing Lanthir, bowed. She stepped forward and laid a hand against his dirty cheek.

"It is good to see you unhurt, ion nin," she smiled. "But I do agree with your brother. You need rest. We will see to your wounded, I'm sure they will understand."

Thallion sighed, recognizing defeat when he saw it. He nodded in acceptance, and led his horse over to a stable hand.

True to her word, Lanthir and Calaeron ensured the few wounded elves in Thallion's company were cared for. In the queen's opinion, it was a far nobler task than attending council sessions all day.

Queen Lanthir struggled to pull a tunic over her squirming elfling, laughing at the small child's ceaseless wriggling. His golden hair was mussed and his eyes were watering from each tiny peal of laughter as his mother tried again, unsuccessfully, to grab a small arm to slide into the sleeve.

"Nana! I want to see my Thall!"

Legolas had been protesting his bedtime for the last hour, intent on finding his best friend and adopted brother, despite each yawn he tried to hide behind his little hands.

"He has only just returned from patrol, Tithen Las," she shook her head when the elfling's arm slipped back out of the sleeve she had just managed to pull it through. "He is very sleepy and needs some rest. You can see him in the morning."

Another monstrous yawn erupted from the bright, joyful face of the youngest prince, warming the queen's heart.

"And it seems, ion nin, that you need some rest, too."

Legolas grumbled sleepily, finally allowing his mother to dress him for bed. She smoothed over his wild golden locks and gently kissed his forehead, tucking him into the warm blankets. It took only moments for his bright blue eyes to glaze over with elven sleep, and Lanthir could only imagine what wonders the child dreamed about.

She closed the door to his bedroom, stepping into her adjoining chambers.

"Has he finally settled down, my queen?"

King Thranduil was sitting at the small desk in the corner of their room, poring over documents that he should have left hours ago. It had been centuries since Thranduil last had to work into the late hours of the night.

"Thallion returned from his patrol today," Lanthir had been glad to see her adopted son earlier that day. "I'm pleased both Thallion and Calaeron are home safe, as is Legolas, but I'll rest easier once I have Faervere in my arms again."

Though Thranduil knew their training had been thorough—all three of them were some of the most skilled warriors in Mirkwood—the father still worried each time he watched them leave the safety of the palace. King Thranduil wanted peace for his children, but that was not to be.

Lanthir's bright blue eyes rested on the drooping shoulders of her husband, a sad smile sliding into place. Of everyone in the palace, Thranduil worked the hardest. The queen missed the days when he smiled more and worked less.

She placed her hands on his tense shoulders and tried to work the tension out of them, resting her forehead atop his golden hair. She felt more than saw him drop his quill, lowering his head ever slightly.

Lanthir wrapped her arms around him and set her chin on his shoulder.

"Come to bed, my dear," she whispered, hoping to pull him away from his work and for him to actually rest for once.

"I'll be there shortly, love," he replied as he bent over his papers once more. She kissed his neck softly before making her way to bed.

Thranduil continued his work through the night.

Tiny lungs huffed as short legs propelled a giggling, blond-haired blur down the brightly-lit halls of the palace. Sunlight streamed in through floor-length windows and archways, illuminating the child's golden hair as it whipped behind him. He ran so quickly that none who saw him would have been able to catch him, such was his enthusiasm.

His giggles increased with the speed of his run, echoing through the halls. It was a new morning in Mirkwood, the start of what promised to be a day full of adventure and excitement for the little elfling. From the moment he'd woke in his chambers, Legolas was bursting with joy.

The few guards who saw the elfling shook their heads in fond amusement. Legolas was the youngest elf in the palace, as well as the only elfling. He was barely more than 15 years old, roughly around the size of a human six-year-old. His bright, loving nature brought joy to the inhabitants of the palace in a time where only darkness prevailed.

Somehow, the royal family had been able to keep the gloom away from their youngest prince. Legolas was barely aware that anything was wrong, though he was more observant than he let on. The child knew that his family was stressed, but that in no way diminished the elfling's spirit.

Legolas had been looking forward to this particular day for a week, barely able to focus on his lessons for the happiness that awaited. His own excitement was an unexpected distraction for the occupants of the palace. He told all who would listen, including the guards, his tutors, and anyone else who was near. It was the day his Naneth promised to take him on a walk through the forest.

Legolas loved the trees just as much as his mother did, but he was not allowed outside of the palace on his own. But somehow, his Nana had decided that a walk would be just what the elfling needed. He could hardly contain his excitement from the moment she made her promise. Lanthir knew that her youngest son was lonely and bored, and so she planned an entire day to spend with him, away from the palace, the councilors, and all others who would seek to bother her.

Lanthir had lately been so busy with her duties in the court that she had spent far too little time with her youngest. The King made what effort he could to spend a little time with his son each day, but he had struggled to find enough hours in the day.

Calaeron and Faervere longed to spend more time with their bright, loving little brother. It had been long since they'd been able to devote their attention to Legolas. They were all busy with other things, too caught up in the struggles of the kingdom to nurture the adventurous spirit of the youngest prince. Thallion had also made every effort he could to spend time with his little brother too, but was home even less often than the other princes.

The three elves Legolas adored most were often gone for weeks at a time, and were weary or wounded whenever they were in the palace. He was lonely. There were few elflings in Mirkwood for him to play with.

His birth had been a surprise to the ailing kingdom. Greenwood the Great had darkened. Despite the darkness, Legolas remained the kind, joyful child he was. Sprinting through the palace was still safe for him, and not a single soul could bear to stop him.

Legolas peered into a small, poorly-lit study along his run through the palace, wondering if his brother was in it. Lanthir told Legolas that Thallion had returned to the palace the night before and the older elf was often found in quiet places when he wasn't on patrol, but the little elfling was growing impatient the longer it took to find him. Thallion had rested enough, hadn't he?

He wanted to tell Thallion about what he and his Nana were going to do. He hadn't been able to tell him yet. It had been nearly three weeks since Thallion was in the palace last. The elfling was bursting with pent-up energy and excitement as he searched through the palace to find "his" Thall. Today was to be a fun day and Thallion needed to hear about it!

"Thall?" He whispered into the study while squinting his blue eyes to peer deep into the room, looking for the dark-haired elf. When his search yielded nothing, the child huffed and ran off once more.

There!

Just down the hall was a slender, dark-haired figure. Though the ellon's back was turned, Legolas knew he recognized the ebony braids and broad shoulders. It had to be Thallion!

Legolas screeched in excitement as he sprinted toward the figure and launched himself at the unsuspecting elf.

"Penneth!" Thallion laughed as he turned at the sound and barely managed to catch the small ball of energy hurtling toward him. He settled the elfling against his hip, brushing fine strands of blond hair away from Legolas' face with one large hand and chuckling at the bright, excited blue eyes that were revealed beneath. "What has you so happy, little one?"

Legolas smiled broadly, wriggling in his big brother's arms with pure happiness. Thallion couldn't help but to smile back at the little prince who had entirely captured his heart.

"I get to go into the for'st! Me and Nana are going on a walk!"

The elfling continued to squirm in Thallion's arms, earning another chuckle from the older elf. The thought of the Queen and her son in the darkening forest placed a cold fear deep into his stomach, though he made sure not to show it to the very observant Legolas.

Thallion's demeanor was always different around Legolas, much more carefree and at-ease. He adored the boy and made every effort to dote on him whenever the opportunity arose.

"Nana and I, Tithen Las," Queen Lanthir said as she appeared from around the corner, her light-brown hair glowing in the bright light of the hallway. At the sight of his mother, Legolas jumped out of Thallion's arms with a giggle and ran into hers.

She placed a kiss against her son's golden hair before she set him back down.

"I believe you have yet to eat your breakfast, ion nin," she grinned at the affronted expression on Legolas' face. "Go, child, and then we will begin our walk."

The squeal of excitement that escaped the elfling brought smiles to both of the adult's faces. Legolas took off down the hall toward the royal quarters and the Queen couldn't help the laugh from escaping her as she watched her son. Having such a bright soul in these dark times was a blessing from the Valar.

She then turned to the other elf standing just a foot from her.

"To have that much energy would be a gift."

Thallion shook his head and laughed in agreement, the much lower timbre of his voice mixing with the high, clear voice of the Queen.

"Ai, it would."

"You sound so tired, Penneth," the Queen frowned at the dark smudges beneath Thallion's gray eyes and the too-pale pallor of his skin. He must not have rested enough, she thought. "You, Calaeron, and Faervere spend far too much time on patrols these days."

"These are dark times, My Lady."

"Yes, I'm afraid the shadow is getting even stronger."

Thallion nodded, his shoulders slumping ever slightly. "Are you sure it is safe for you and Legolas to be in the forest today? Perhaps I should accompany you."

Lanthir's bright blue eyes softened as they met the worried gaze of the elf who had become a son to her.

"We will be safe, Ion nin, as long as we do not stray from the path." It hurt her deeply to know that her beloved forest was no longer as safe as the days of old. It hurt even more to watch her children ride off into battle and return, weak and wounded, only for them to turn around and leave once more. "I don't plan to take Legolas far. Besides, you have only just returned to the palace. You need your rest."

She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it reassuringly, smiling brightly at her son.

"I won't be far," he promised. Already, Thallion was planning to stay close to the forest edge, intending to be close enough to protect them should they need it. He couldn't explain the nagging feeling at the back of his mind, but he knew better than to ignore it.

"I know."

Lanthir expected nothing less from him. He had always been protective of the royal family, going so far as to take an arrow meant for Calaeron years ago during a patrol which had been ill-fated from the start.

"I should go find my elfling," the seriousness disappeared from her eyes. "He may tear this palace apart if I make him wait much longer."

Thallion smiled, though it did not reach his eyes, for the worried knot in his gut grew ever larger.

Author's Note:

I do take your reviews/suggestions into consideration and update accordingly. Thanks!

-FiTS