I felt my father's cold eyes gazing down at me. Nervous, I waited for his response to my request.

After what seemed an eternity, I heard his soft, deep voice echo through the cavernous hallways of the Woodland Realm.

"If that is truly what you wish, Legolas, keep the wretched creature. But I feel it is my duty to warn you only trouble will come of it."

I bowed my head. "Thank you, Atar. I will keep it well."

Thranduil turned and walked away, not bothering to continue to retain eye contact of any sort. His voice rose above the lower tone he had used before, increasing ever so slightly in volume as he strode away toward his throne. "Indeed you shall keep it well. And if I hear you have done otherwise, it shall be sent directly back to that pitiful mortal town from whence it came." He had ascended the steps and sat down upon his wooden throne. "You may go now, Legolas."

"As you say, Heruamin." I bowed and exited the room, contented within, so far as young Bard was concerned. I would take good care of the small child, and thus father would hear no complaint.

"So, he has allowed you to keep it?" Elenlin spoke from behind me, and I confess that my spirit dropped slightly at the sound of his voice. I knew not why, for I had always admired the elder elf, but I suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he seemed to be attempting to undermine my relationship with my father.

"Indeed he has," I replied in a stiff tone, not turning around.

"Legolas," there was a measure of chastening in his voice that made me cringe within. "Is that how to treat an elder and a friend?" He stepped beside me, a look of concern in his eyes. "What have I done to merit this cold reception, or does it merely run in thy blood these days?"

I turned sharply on him, much hurt by his words.

"'Tis not your worry if it does, Elenlin! Your words of late are hateful to my ears, and one could even say treasonous."

A look of shock came over his face, as my sharp tone cut into him. Then his face became stern and impassive, and he took my arm.

"Come along, young Elfling. I believe we must speak."

I tried to pull away, but his grip, though gentle, was strong.

"I have no wish to have words with you." I replied, my tone hard and cold. The anger that had colored it a moment before was gone, but it was now replaced with disdain for this Elf.

However, Elenlin was not to be cowed, and he took me up to my chambers, sitting me down in a chair.

Then he took a deep breath, and began to speak.

"I fear that you misunderstood everything I told you while at Esgaroth. I spoke no treason, and I would thank you not to accuse me of it while standing outside the throne room of a paranoid king!"

I was shocked at his speech, but quickly saw my own fault in the matter. In truth, his only crime was not making sense of himself, not treason.

"I was wrong, Heruamin. I ask your pardon."

"And freely do you receive it, Legolas." He smiled slightly as he looked at me, and he placed his hand on my shoulder. "If you find me stern and disagreeable of late, it is through no fault of yours, young prince. My duties have become quite difficult and strenuous of late, and, though I wish no harm to him, I do wish that your father would be wiser in his rulings. Trouble will come of it yet, that he hides himself away and refuses to have either treaty nor alliance with any of our neighbors, nor those who dwell afar."

I looked down. Once again, he spoke truly painful words of my father, but I could not deny it. I, myself, had begun to wonder about Thranduil's treatment of outsiders, but what could I do about it?

Except care for those in need. My mind wandered to the small child, who was in his own room, no doubt playing with the small fawn, who was mending quite well from her encounter with—

I stiffened. The horrible hiss and the hateful nets of a few days before entered my mind, and I shuddered.

"Lord Elenlin, there is something in the forest. I can feel it! I heard it. In truth, it troubles me far more than Atar at the time being."

Elenlin sighed. "I do not deny the existence of some strange beast in the wood, but who can know? And I deeply doubt that it is malevolent, as you seem to be convinced of. But, even if there is such a creature, would it not flee far from here, were our King to be strong?"

"He seems strong enough."

Both Elenlin and I turned to the door, to behold Bard, the small doe in his arms.

Elenlin smiled slightly, though it hardly affected his eyes. I could see that he did not like the small human in the least, but was attempting to be genial for my sake alone.

"I am certain he does seem quite strong to you, child, but there are many things you do not understand, so it would be a good plan for you to refrain from interrupting those who do understand."

I saw Bard recoil slightly at the unkind remark, but he quickly recovered and replied.

"If that is what you wish, my lord. But it would seem that you, yourself, do not know all there is to know, or at the very least, you choose not to believe in it."

I smiled. The child had certainly not lost his quickness to defensiveness, which, I feared, would not be an unnecessary attribute, were he to dwell long in the Woodland halls.

Elenlin was somewhat peeved at the child's bold response."What would you know that I have not yet heard, humanling?"

Bard shrugged. "None said you hadn't heard. But I fear you failed to listen."

I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Bard, do pay your elders some respect. It isn't befitting for you to be speaking harshly to them."

The child frowned slightly, but then shrugged again. "Yes, Da."

I nodded, "There's a good lad. Come here." I held my arms out to him, and he tentatively crossed the room and sat on my lap.

I turned back to Elenlin, and was surprised by the utter disgust written clearly in his eyes. But I chose to ignore it, rather than dignify him.

"My lord, I do not wish to argue with you over these matters, but truly, we seem to have a great difference of opinion on the matter."

Elenlin nodded. "I understand your feelings, Legolas, but please realize that you cannot allow your personal connection to our king to get in the way of sound judgment. The truth is, your father has been becoming more and more strict and reclusive with his behaviors in the last few hundred years. And with the wood becoming ill, and foolish decisions being made, and outside creatures infiltrating our lands, the trouble has come to a head."

I stiffened, gently putting my arm around Bard. I knew that, by "outside creatures" Elenlin did not mean the gigantic spider. But, if for no other reason than I was peeved with the elf, I determined that I would pretend that was exactly what I thought he was referring to.

"With all due respect, I believe that we can stop these malevolent creatures of darkness, ere they do too much damage. It isn't as though we haven't a Woodland Guard, which does much to protect us from outside dangers."

Elenlin frowned. He knew exactly what I was doing, and didn't like it a bit. Bard, too, understood, for he chuckled slightly, laying his head against my shoulder.

"I suppose, Master Elf, that you'll have to admit your Prince is right—either that, or say what you truly meant my 'outsiders.'"

"I hardly think that is a proper way to speak to one of a higher race, Thaurer." Elenlin's voice was a cold snarl, and his dark eyes held a dangerous anger.

Quickly, instinctively, I pulled Bard's curly head against my chest, feeling my pulse quicken, my senses crying out that the child was in danger.

I took a breath, and decided the best course of action would be to remove the child from the room for the time being. He meant no harm, but I feared he would come to it, if he did not learn to hold his tongue better. All too clearly I recalled the fate of Turin, who had been raised by the Eldar, but had fallen into the ill graces of the King's councilor.

"Bard, take the fawn to my bedroom for now. She needs her rest, you know."

"Yes, Da." The child slipped from my lap, looking questioningly at me as he departed.

Then I turned to Elenlin, my tone angry, but soft.

"That was no way to speak to a child! He has no parents, and no home, and no one to teach him proper manners! How do you expect him to know how to be polite? He speaks what is on his mind with honesty—and that is not altogether a bad quality!"

"Sit, Legolas." Elenlin replied, gesturing me back down. Reluctantly, I obeyed him. As much as I was angry with him, There was a bond between us that made it so I did not wish to anger him, nor make him displeased with me. It was not altogether different from what I felt toward my father, albeit, I am sad to report, a bit warmer.

Elenlin drew up a chair himself, and looked deep into my eyes.

"Please understand, my child, that I do not mean that young mortal any harm. But any self-respecting, solid-minded Quendi can see that he is only trouble for you. Can you not see? You have begun to care for him deeply, and that is a foolish thing for an Elf to do for a mortal. In a matter of decades, he will grow old, and he will die, and you will be sorrowful. My affection for you is deep, and I do not wish to see you destroyed in that manner. One is enough."

I looked at him with confusion, as I watched strong emotions battling within his eyes. Sorrow and misery were deep within them, as was a longing. A deep, gnawing emptiness within him, like some dark cavern within his heart. But the look passed within a moment, and he looked at me with warm affection.

"Your father's hurt comes from the death of his wife, Legolas. Did you even know that a statue of her stands at the Elven gate? No? I didn't think so. Your father wishes to pretend that his wife—your mother—never existed." He laid his hand on my shoulder, with great sadness in his eyes. "He wishes that you were not here to remind him. Your father does not want you, Legolas."