Elrohir swung his legs out of bed and slid into his clothes. Elladan was not in sight but his nightshirt lay on the floor. Puzzled, Elrohir left the bedroom. He ran down to the dining room, ready for a hot breakfast.

Elrohir came to a halt in the doorway, and his eyes opened wide at the sound of his twin's screams.

"Elrohir!" said Elrond, looking up from the task of punishing Elladan. "You are late to breakfast!"

"H-how—no—you cannot be here!" Elrohir stuttered, stumbling back on numbed legs as Elrond released Elladan and came toward him. He looked with frantic eyes at the rich wood walls of the dining room; walls distinctly belonging to Mirkwood. He thought of his bedroom, the floor carpeted with red and white woven mats, and the blue bedspread. It all screamed Mirkwood to him.

"I am here," Elrond said. "I am here to take to home!"

"No!" Elrohir screamed. He turned to run but the walls closed in around him. He cowered back against it as Elrond neared.

"Running away from the people who love you, and endangering your life as well as the lives of countless scouts was a bad thing to do, Elrohir," Elrond said. "I do not want to see it happen again."

Elrohir sat up in bed, drenched in cold sweat as the strap hit him in the nightmare-infested corner of his mind. He doubled over, his face in his hands, and wept.

The room around him rested in darkness, but the shape of it, and the dim shadows of the dresser, washbasin, and the large wardrobe told him he sat in his room at Mirkwood. Elladan sat up beside him with worried eyes.

"I-I am scared," Elrohir whimpered. "I-I dreamed Elrond came—to take us back. I do not want to return to Rivendell. Not ever!"

Elladan lifted the blankets, letting cold air into the sticky, hot space trapped beneath the coverings, and slid to sit beside his twin. "He will come, Elrohir. You know he will find us eventually. We cannot hide forever. I have dreamed of him to, and know it is inevitable."

Elrohir moaned. "I do not want to accept it. I do not want to think of what he will do to us. I do not want to think of those haunted days."

Elladan squeezed his hand.

"I do not want to sleep," Elrohir wailed. "I will have more bad dreams!"

"You must rest," Elladan argued. His eyes brightened. "Perhaps Thranduil will not mind if we sleep with him, if we are quiet and do not wake him."

Elrohir raised his head from his hands, enticed by the idea at the thought of a warm embrace. He crawled out of the nest of blankets. "I will try. He will not punish us like Elrond does at the least. There is nothing to lose."

"Wait for me," Elladan replied.

Elrohir could hear his heart banging in his chest as he opened the bedroom door, and crept out into the dark hall. A sense of dread filled him; he had been told not to leave his room after bedtime, and now he walked a forbidden hallway, ending at the far door in the wall.

The floor was smooth under his bare feet. Outside the oak door to Thranduil's room, Elrohir stopped and held his breath. He could hear Elladan's heart thumping from nervousness beside him. He looked at his twin. After a moment he reached for the doorknob and turned it, swinging the door open.

Thanking the valar Harune did his job well, and the door's hinges were well greased, Elrohir slipped into the room, the silk threads of the carpet under his feet silencing the small whispers of his movement.

The large, four-poster bed made a wide, unmistakable shadow ahead. Elrohir could see the shape of Thranduil's body underneath the covers, which he knew where pale blue. He stopped at the side of the bed, unable to summon the courage to lift the blankets and crawl in though he longed to.

Elladan's breathing seemed loud.

The fire popped and Elrohir jumped in fright. He froze as Thranduil stirred. The elf king sat up, shaking his tousled hair off his face, and slid his legs over the side of the bed, tossing off the blankets. He frowned at the sight of the twins, his eyes puzzled.

"What on middle earth are you here for in the dead of night?"

Elladan realized Elrohir's voice would shake too much if he tried to answer, so he volunteered a reply. "We—we dreamed of Elrond, and the dreams were not pleasant. We hoped you would let us sleep with you."

Thranduil yawned and stretched his muscles. "Climb into bed while I feed the fire."

Elrohir slumped into the warm bed, relieved he could for he knew he knees would have failed him had he stood much longer. He moved over to the far side, his pounding heart softening as he lay down. It fluttered at Thranduil's return.

Thranduil lay down between the twins, offering each of them the safety of his arms, and tugged up the blankets over them. He felt Elrohir's hammering heart.

"It must have been a bad a nightmare," he said.

Elrohir swallowed. "Yes. The-the nightmares do not hurt Elladan as much as they do me . . . I am the one Elrond ordered tied down to a cold slab like a sacrifice, and spat upon."

Thranduil shifted, taking his arm out from under Elladan's head. His fingers sought out the cold tears he knew were on Elrohir's face and brushed them away. The elfling sniffed.

"I know you are hurting inside," he said. "I know you are scared and you feel alone. But I am here now, and so is Harune. And the last thing we would allow Elrond to do is to take you back to a home where you feel the cruel stab of a knife day by day. Legolas healed from his wounds, and you will to."

Elrohir buried his face in Thranduil's chest, his tears overflowing to soak his shirt. "But Legolas is your son, and you had every right to him. We are not your children. Elrond can take us if he wants to, and you cannot stop him. We cannot run from him, or hide from him, and no one can protect us!"

"I will," Thranduil said. "The whole of Mirkwood will protect you both. While you may not be my sons, and while Elrond does have command of you, I can do more then you might think."

Elrohir wrapped his arms around Thranduil and clung to him, his tears leaking out from his eyes even after his exhaustion pulled him into the realm of sleep. Knowing Thranduil lay beside him, holding him and his twin together, warded away the nightmares creeping at his mind's edge.

Thranduil lay awake long after the twins had fallen asleep, stroking their hair with each of his two hands. He stared at the canopy overhead, knowing the blackness of it in the dark was a soothing blue. His heart weighed down his chest. He knew Elrond would come. He knew a letter would come. Elrond could force his hand with his impatience and his refusal to understand.

Thranduil could feel the loneliness in the twins. He could feel how helpless and alone and small they were. He could feel the grief chewing them apart from the inside, and the fear eating their minds. He could feel the misery stealing the light from their eyes. And it all linked into Elrond.

It was time to talk to Hyrondal about the Forbidden Grove again. He would not let Elrond take the twins back and scar their pure souls. He would protect them at any costs. And even if it meant starting a war, he would keep the twins safe.

Elladan and Elrohir will struggle even with Thranduil's help to rid themselves of bad memories. Will they ever heal?

Thank you all for reading. I love hearing from you!