Elladan opened his eyes, his stomach lurching in fear. He swallowed and tried to control himself, unable to understand why he felt this way. The sick feeling faded from within him as his fingers felt Thranduil's warm hand. A feeling of safety settled over him as he saw Thranduil asleep next to him. Yes, he was in Mirkwood—with Elrohir—and ada—ada was far away, where he could not hurt them.

Loneliness penetrated the elfling's heart, followed by grief. Elladan loved his father and longed for his hugs and kisses. He wish with all his heart for one word of praise or encouragement; something from his parents to show Elladan that they understood he enjoyed drawing and playing and needed the space to do so in order to live a happy, healthy life. But Elrond met his dreams with coldness, crushing him to shape a vision of perfection Elladan had not been born to live.

A few tears slipped down Elladan's cheeks. How he wished ada and naneth would love him back. Elladan wiped his running nose, sighing softly as he thought of Legolas.

Legolas was lucky; he had a fine home and a kind, understanding ada. An ada who did not inflict painful punishments, an ada who cuddled and sang and laughed. An ada who played and worked and cared. Everything Elrond was not. Everything Elrond would not even try to be.

Elladan felt Elrohir shift against him. The fire in the hearth glowed, dancing merrily. He was warm and safe. But all he wanted was Elrond. He was starved for his love, his aching heart begging for a part of Elrond to be uncovered. But his hunger only ever grew.

At the thought of hunger, Elladan became aware of the ache in his stomach and realized with a start he had not eaten in days. Elladan rolled over and tugged on Thranduil's sleeve.

Thranduil's eyes swam into focus. The elven king yawned and stretched in his chair before he turned to look at Elladan, running a hand over his damp cheek.

"May I have something to eat?" Elladan asked. "I cannot remember the last meal I ate . . ."

Thranduil heaved himself out of his chair and reached for the long rope hanging from the ceiling, yanking down on the tassel.

"One of the healers will bring you a bowl of hot soup in a few minutes," he said.

"Hannon le," Elladan said quietly, flopping back against the pillows as Thranduil piled them against the headboard. The elf sat down beside him, holding his hand.

Elladan picked at the threads of his blanket. "Where is Legolas?"

"Sleeping with Harune," Thranduil answered. "You have slept for three days now, Elladan."

Elladan looked down at his hands. "I-I-it was so cold and tiring. It-it was more then once I thought hope was lost, and we would never—never reach you. Wolves chased the horses away when we were so close to Mirkwood. It was not easy looking at the green streak and wondering if we would survive to make it there . . ."

Thranduil brushed the strands of hair off Elladan's face. "I know the journey must have been long and hard, but you are safe now, and the horrors are behind you now. Why have you come to me?"

Elladan bit his lip. He looked at his twin, his dark hair spread out on the covers behind him as he slept, buried in a cocoon of blankets. "It—it was harder for Elrohir. The exorcism changed him; hurt him inside . . ."

Thranduil frowned. "What exorcism?"

Elladan met Thranduil's eyes. "There is a lot you do not know. We—we will tell you later. Half the tale belongs to Elrohir, and I cannot tell it without him. We both share the pain and torment . . . and I am too hungry to talk much more."

The door to the room opened and two elves, their white robes swirling as they brushed over the floor, entered, carrying trays of steaming food. The smell awakened Elrohir, who sat up rubbing his eyes.

Elrohir gave Thranduil a weak smile, and took the tray of food settled over his knees. Still shaking off the sleep, he wolfed down the bread and hot soup, not caring if it scalded his tongue. For several minutes the only sounds in the room was the noise of him and Elladan eating.

It hurt Thranduil's heart to see the twins so starved for food. For a moment, his mind traveled back to Legolas lying in the healing ward, his bruises so dark on his face, and his eyes and soul frightened and hurt. He looked at the twins and saw similar symptoms.

Elladan and Elrohir slurped down the last drops of food, and let the healers take away the trays. They leaned back against their pillows, and stared at him.

"I need you to tell me what happened that drove you from your home," Thranduil said. "I cannot help you on half details."

The twins winced as one. Elrohir turned his eyes to the ceiling as he dropped his head flat.

"Elrond's," he said, "method of discipline is fixed on one firm idea, but it is a way we cannot live by. He punishes us by spanking us with a strap. He and nana used to use their hands when we were little."

His voice stayed firm, covered with coldness that blanketed his hurt feelings. "He keeps it in the living room on the top of the bookcase. And whenever we disobey him or we are late to dinner, or we fight and refuse to share with each other, he takes it down and spanks us."

"When Elrohir voiced his feelings and asked Elrond to find another way of disciplining us, Elrond put him through an exorcism, convinced he was possessed by demons," Elladan said. He squeezed Elrohir's hand. "It hurt him inside."

"We—we ran away after our sister was born," Elrohir said. "They would not let us see her the next day to say 'good morning' and 'I love you'. I-I w-went down anyway, and when they caught us, Elrond took us to punish us for endangering her l-life and al-almost killing her . . . I-I could not live with him or naneth. It was too hard listening to them lie and say they loved us, but spanking us and proving themselves wrong. They said they did it out of their love so we would not grow into bad people, but I could pretend to see any truth it in, and it was hard to keep my mouth shut.

"I could not be myself, Thranduil! I could not say anything that did not agree with them! I could not contradict or speak back. I had to myself bottled up inside and be punished when I exploded! It was horrible!"

As hot tears coursed down Elrohir's cheeks, Thranduil left his seat to sit between the twins. He reached to hug the elfling and he fell into his embrace and sobbed.

"I do not blame you for running away," Thranduil said. "But I am sorry you had to flee from your own home."

Elladan shook his head. "We were sorry at first. But we have nothing to be sorry about. Elrond is the one who should be sorry but is not."

Thranduil opened his arms to Elladan and let the elfling burrow into his arms. "I understand. It was brave thing to do to run away in the heart of winter, and cross dangerous lands."

"It was the only door left," Elladan said. "We are not brave, Thranduil. We fled more out of desperation then out of courage and bravery. We cannot fight back against an elf twice our size and strength. We have tried, and it ends at the end of a strap."

Thranduil stroked his dirty hair.

"We have to you for protection," Elladan said. "Please do not send us back to Elrond or let him take us. You are the only one who can stand in Elrond's way. Galadriel and Celeborn are like ada and naneth. We have stayed with them before. They spanked us for leaving bed at night and teasing the guards. They would thrash us and hand us over to Elrond, and he would spank us again! You are—you are the only one . . ."

"I would not dream of letting Elrond take you," Thranduil said, his voice firm. "I refused to let Lord Katar take Legolas when he came to me for protection, and I will not allow Elrond to take you, no matter how his twisted view of discipline!"

Elrohir's sobs had subsided.

"Thranduil," he said in a low voice. "We-we have wondered but we do not know . . . do you—do you spank with a strap?"

"No, Elrohir. I do not hit the ones I love and call it discipline."

Elrohir's face was hidden as he asked, "Do you—do you spank with anything else? Or with your hand?"

Thranduil pulled him back and looked down into the elfling's scared eyes. "No, Elrohir. I do not think it is right. Hitting children in the name of love and discipline rules them by fear, and fear is a bad master."

"But then how do you—how do you—I mean, how do you make Legolas behave . . .?"

A mischievous glint entered Thranduil's eyes. "An hour scrubbing a smelly horse stall spotless is usually motivation enough to ensure Legolas will remember what ever it is I have told him for a short time at least! But a gentle reminder or short scolding is all he needs in most cases. I do not like to punish him, Elrohir, and I do not have to much."

Elrohir wiped his eyes and nose. "You do not know how good cleaning a horse stall sounds. I would give anything to take an hour of hard work over seconds of spanking."

Thranduil smiled and leaned down to kiss him, his smile sad. "I do know how you feel, Elrohir. And now I want you both to sleep. You have struggled through much on your journey through the cold, and you will not recover in seconds. I will not leave you."

"I feel better already," Elrohir said, his eyes lighting up with a smile as he looked at his twin. "I feel as though the shadow is far, far away."

He clasped Elladan's hand over Thranduil's chest as the elf king cuddled both of the elflings to his side and found pleasant dreams at last.

I think the twins had some doubts at first but after speaking with Thranduil about their fears, Elladan and Elrohir will be much more relieved in the future. What do you think?

Thank you so much for reading. I love hearing from you.