If ever a journey had lasted for an entire age, Elrohir was sure this one did. The familiar landmarks between Imladris and Lasgalen could not pass by quick enough and the younger twin did not feel any desire to speak with anyone. All he wished was to see his beloved and to hope that maybe there could be some miraculous recovery. He hoped that the letter was an exaggeration and that Legolas was not as ill as they had said. Only seeing his beautiful blond Prince lying in death would bring him quickly and harshly back to the reality of the situation. For now, he spirited his horse quicker and lead his father and brother. They alone stopped him from running his horse between the two distant lands and collapsing somewhere along the way.

Looking to his left, Elrohir saw a lilac bush and suddenly his mind was whisked back five centuries.

*flashback*

“Come now, my sons.” Elrond chided, “We will be late arriving and I’m sure a feast has been prepared.” If the elven Lord could not get his sons moving, mentioning food was sure to help him in his quest.

“What kind of food do they serve there?” Elladan asked.

Elrond thought a minute, “Rich soups with nice warm breads. Good food that I’m sure you’ll like.”

Both his sons had passed their majority, but to Elrond’s dismay, neither had passed the continually hungry stage that went along with adolescence. The Last Homely House was fast becoming the Most Baron House the way his sons ate sometimes. It would be a nice break for his kitchen staff to pass on his troubles to King Thranduil. He knew the King had a son of his own near to his twin’s age. However, the King had been blessed with only one son so no guilt entered Elrond’s mind from his plan of dumping the twins in Lasgalen.

“I see it!” Elrohir cried. The younger twin pulled into the lead as he always did. Once he saw his destination there was no stopping Elrohir and soon the three of them were coming through the gates having already been recognized by the border guards and watched from their first entry into the wood.

The palace of the Woodelves was largely made of stone and was a most impressive sight to the twins. Elladan came into step with his father and they approached the figure standing at the top of the ornate stone staircase.

“Greetings, Lord Elrond and welcome to my realm.” The elf exclaimed. He wore a circlet of vines and berries around his head and robes of green and inlaid gold flowed down his back. Hair of deep golden blond was styled in the braids of a warrior. He projected an air of great authority and there was no second guessing that this was their host, King Thranduil.
“Good King Thranduil, thank you for your invitation. Too long has it been since you and I have last met.”

Thranduil smiled, “Indeed, for I see you bring to my realm strangers.”

“Let me presents to you my sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Sons, this is King Thranduil.”

The King extended a greeting to the twins; “There are no titles between Lords, my friends. Elrond, I am not surprised. You always are so careful in everything you do it does not shock me that you would ensure your line by doubling your heir.”

Elrond laughed cheerfully, “Yes, though I do not think I could ever do it again. I hear tell you have your own son.”

“Yes. Legolas. Forgive me for his absence, I’m sure he’s out back finding some trouble to get himself into.”

The twins looked at each other, the thought of pranks while in the presence of this mighty King had fled their minds, but hearing of his son lightened their spirits.

Their shared look of mischief was not lost on their father and Elrond sighed inwardly.

“Come,” Thranduil gestured to the open doorway behind him, “I am sure you’re tired after your long journey. I have prepared a dinner for you and then I shall show you to your chambers to rest.”

The trio followed the King down the hallways with their rich and beautiful tapestries. Even though the elves of the Greenwood had to live in stone, they tried to bring as much of the forest with them into their home. The huge cloths depicted scenes of the forest and told stories of their past when it was safe to live among the boughs of their dearest friends, the trees.

Elladan’s face lit up when they arrived at the royal dining hall and took in all the lovely food that was steaming on long tables and awaiting their arrival. The older twin’s eyes practically came out of his skull when he followed the tables to view to vast array of sweets lined up at the very end. His father was very strict with the allowance of sugar to his twins and for the life of him, Elladan could never figure out why. Perhaps a sugar indulgence that ended with some of Elrond’s history scrolls getting new endings attached had something to do with it.

“Now, let’s see about getting my son to join us.” Their host went over to a guard standing in the entranceway and spoke quietly to him and asked that his son be brought to him.

“Of course, your majesty.” With a slight bow, the elf was on his way to finding his Prince.

“Please my friends, do not wait for my child. If I know Legolas he might take a while to be found and I do not want this wonderful dinner to grow cold.”

Indeed, Thranduil was true to his word. Elladan had already started into his second plate of food when there was a closing of a door down the hallway and the sounds of running could be h. “T. “That would be Legolas.” He said to Elrond who was sitting near to him.

Elrohir glanced up from his dinner when a disheveled elf came tearing into the dining hall. This new elf pulled back his light golden blond hair to reveal his face. Lilac flowers were stuck all over him, in his hair, on his tunic and all the way dto tto the laces of his boots. Elrohir thought the elf was quite beautiful upon first sight.

“My son!” Thranduil exclaimed, “What have you been doing?”

“Forgive me father,” Legolas replied, “I was reading in a tree and lost track of the time.”

“Then you decided to take a detour in the bushes?” His father questioned.

“I was startled by your summons and proceeded to return to the ground via the lilac bush.” Came the quiet reply.

“Elrond, may I present my son, Prince Legolas.” Finally came the formal presentation.

Legolas greeted the Lord of Imladris. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Please also greet Elrond’s sons. This is Elladan, I believe?”

Elladan smiled and approached the Prince, “Yes, King Thranduil. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

After they bowed to one another, the other twin came forward.

“And Legolas, this is Elrohir.” Their eyes met with the introduction and it was in that moment that the youngest son of Elrond lost his heart to the Prince of Mirkwood.

*End flashback*

The same familiar sight of the stony palace of the Woodelves finally came into view before them only this time there was no King upon the steps to greet them.

Elves came forward to stable the horses and there was no delay in leading the three elves into the halls. Elrond was well known as a skilled healer and even though hope was diminishing with every passing moment, it was not yet gone from their hearts.

They were brought to Legolas’ chambers and quickly shown inside and it was in that moment that reality came rushing to Elrohir like a great flood. His beloved, the one who had held his heart from their first eye contact in that introduction so long ago was lying as if already dead. His skin was gray and clammy. Sweat covered his body and his eyes were closed. Fear tore into Elrohir’s heart that they were too late.

“Thranduil?” Elrond spoke.

“He yet lives.” Was the whispered reply. “You have made it just in time. He will be in the Halls of Mandos before the day is out the healers believe.”

Elrohir quickly went to the other side of the bed to touch Legolas. Perhaps his father could yet do something. The young twin nearly cried when he felt the raging fever throughout his lover’s body. Elr hel held onto the Prince’s hand with great care hoping at least for Legolas to wake long enough to know that Elrohir was by his side.

“This fever is raging over his body.” Elrond said, “It is of the essence that bring it down.”

One of the healers ran from the room to retrieve some cold water from the rooms below. Thranduil picked up his son when the cold water was ready in the baths and, without even removing his clothes, put Legolas directly into the water.

The Prince whimpered in his fever as the cold water shocked his system. In his panic, for the first time since the Rivendell elves’ arrival, he opened his eyes just a little.

“Legolas?” Elrohir questioned, desperate for a sign from his love, but there came none. Those beautiful eyes, which always captured Elrohir’s heart, closed once more.

They did not open again. Elrohir wondered if it had been his imagination.

The thin body was eventually lifted from the water and changed into dry clothes. Legolas was placed once more into bed and his father and lover were alone while Elrond and Elladan took a trip to the healer’s quarters to see what was available for them to help the Prince with.

“This came so fast, Elrohir.” The older elf said, “I wish I could have gotten word to you sooner. I wish Legolas would wake to speak to you.” The King had torn his heart to say those words. He still refused to acknowledge the fact that his son would more than likely not wake again.

“He’s been in a coma?”

“Since this began.” He swallowed, “The healers do not believe he will wake from this.”

Elrohir nodded and kissed the limp hand that was in his. “I hope he is not sufng. ng. I hope he is only sleeping peacefully and not feeling the affect this is having upon his body.” Legolas’ body was frail and sunken in. They had tried giving him broth at first, but fear of him getting sick on it and choking had stifled their attempts. Only water was gently given to Legolas every few hours to keep dehydration from setting in. Their attempts failed and soon they gave up on that hope as well.

“I am glad you’re here while there is still life within him, Elrohir. Perhaps you would like a few moments with him?”

Elrohir nodded numbly, “Thank you.” He knew it was a great sacrifice for the King to leave his son at this time, when Legolas’ moments on Arda were few. Thranduil had come to respect their relationship and knew that Legolas, if he were still with them, would also want time alone with his lover before he would leave them all.

The door clicked shut and the two were finally alone together.

“Legolas, my love. I only hope something of you can hear me now. If I were a wise elven Lord I would have many words of wisdom to tell you now. I’m afraid all I can tell you is that I love you with all of my being and I will never be whole again without you.”

Though his words were brief, there was overflowing emotion coned ned in each one. Elrohir leaned forward and touched his forehead to Legolas’ and cried openly for the first time since the news tore his life apart.

The days came and went and Legolas’ fever did not break nor did the oppressive coma that locked his mind away from those that cared for him, but neither did he die much to the amazement of all.

Staying by his lover’s side, Elrohir was determined to be with Legolas when the end came, but Mandos never claimed him. Always lingering in the shadows like a ghost, but never coming forward to take Legolas to his halls.

Elrond entered into the Prince’s room more than a week after their arrival to find the usual sight. Legolas’ father sitting on one side with his son and Elrohir on the other side with his lover. Neither wished to leave and both were exhausted. At the moment, remarkably, both appeared to be sleeping.

Reaching around his son, Elrond went to touch the Prince’s forehead and found something odd. It was cool. At first, the Lord thought that death had finally taken his friend’s son. That would explain the cooling of his body after so long in a fever. Elrond knew both in the room would be upset at having slept during the final moments. Putting his hand to the sick elf’s neck, Elrond gasped in shock, waking Thranduil. When the King awoke to find Elrond checking Legolas’ pulse with a look of shock upon his face, Thranduil believed that his son had finally passed.

“No.” He whispered to the healer. Elrond’s eyes rose to meet his friend’s.

“My friend,” Elrond said, “your son’s fever has broken.”

“What?!” Elrohir woke to Thranduil’s voice and only heard fragments of their conversation.

“Ada?” Elrohir asked.

“Elrohir, Legolas’ fever has broken. I do not believe it. Never would I have thought this possible. None before have recovered.”

Thranduil nearly came undone, “None other are as stubborn as my son!”

Though his fever did break, it still took many hours for Legolas to slowly begin responding to the world around him.

Staying by his lover’s side, Elrohir eagerly awaiting Legolas’ return to consciousness. How he had longed for him to get better so they could be together once more.

Weary eyes opened to see fuzzy figures and Legolas didn’t know where he was. Soon shapes began to form and the Prince saw the plush chambers and the faces that looked at him with love and concern.

“Legolas?”

“Who?” Came the raspy reply. Legolas’ voice sounded harsh and dry and Elrohir rushed to grab some water.

“My son, how are you feeling?” Thranduil knew Legolas wouldn’t be coherent immediately and decided to give him more time before becoming too upset.

“I am tired.” Legolas’ attention was turned to another who brought cool w. Af. After drinking the glass disappeared and the dark haired elf stayed by his side.

“My love, I am so glad to see you awake!” He smiled at Legolas, warm and loving and the young Prince did think it was a lovely smile.

“Your love?” Legolas questioned.

Elrohir was puzzled by Legolas’ reaction to him, “Of course, who else could I ever hold to my heart but you?”

Legolas stared at this elf and looked to the other – his father - before looking once more to the one confessing his love for him.

“I have no memory of your face.”