Disclaimer: Okay, everybody. I noticed in the first disclaimer that I forgot to mention the fact that Smeagol is not my character either, and I seriously don’t want to be sued. So, there, Smeagol isn’t my character either. And also, for all of those who, well, I didn’t tell anybody. Jeriel also isn’t my character. A friend of mine, Tziganecelt, created him. I borrowed him for this story.

By Legolas

"Welcome back, brother!" Came the somewhat deeper voice of Adrolas, Legolas’ younger twin brother. He stood near the gates of their father’s halls, smiling pleasantly at his brother’s return. As the small company approached, Adrolas’ eyes narrowed. Noticing something was amiss; he pressed the subject as Legolas neared. "You seem to be missing something, dear brother." He said, looking down at his slightly shorter older brother.

Legolas, looking burdened by the fight with the Orcs and the prospect of reporting such a loss to his father, he replied without stopping. "We were attacked by Orcs, Adrolas." He said as he crossed the threshold into the dimly lit halls of their sylvan palace.

Adrolas turned and began to walk beside him, as Legolas past. "Legolas," Adrolas said, more fervently than before. "What are you hiding from me?" He looked into his brother’s storm-grey eyes.

Legolas sighed and looked forward. "I hide nothing, brother." He said with a note of finality in his quiet voice. "I simply do not speak that which will only be repeating to our father. You shall know then." At that, Legolas sped along his way to their father’s private chambers.

"Come in, my sons," Came the steady voice of their father, Lord Thranduil, from behind his study door. Legolas breathed a steadying sigh and pushed the door before him open, where it had only been ajar before, and entered, followed closely by his brother. Thranduil looked up upon their entrance and smiled welcomingly to his sons, then he directed his attention to his Elirium, noticing the regret etched in his ageless face’ a face which was now marred by a small cut across his right cheekbone. Thranduil sat more erect. "You have something to report, Legolas?" He asked, sounding more Lordly than fatherly.

Legolas bowed at the shoulders along with his brother. "I do, my Lord." Legolas replied as officially as 750 years of procedures could muster forth from him. He truly despised reporting to his father anything, let alone bad news. He sighed. "The company sent to guard the prisoner," the prisoner, as they refereed to Smeagol, "Was attacked by Orcs, my Lord."

Thranduil nodded. "But that is not all, it would seem." Thranduil knew his son. As he gazed into Legolas’ eyes, he noticed their storm-grey depths were averted. He was hiding something.

A look of reproachfulness at the subject flashed across Legolas sharp eyes, but was gone in an instant. He stood taller. "Yes, my Lord. There is more."

Adrolas looked over at his brother, suddenly interested. Legolas continued.

"The attack by the Orcs, my Lord, would seem to have been a diversion. They attacked quickly and did not stay long."

Thranduil’s brow furrowed in thought. The Orcs had never before done anything such as what his son was explaining now, and he was doubtful. He would not believe so without proof. "What makes you believe it was a diversion, Legolas?"

Legolas sighed once again. "Before the attack, Father, we were accompanying the prisoner as per our orders. I allowed him to climb trees and such, as was suggested by friend Aragorn. In one rather large tree, the Oak in the western woods that stands apart from the others, he emplored to climb and I consented. He stayed aloft for more than an hour and Jeriel had become nervous at his absence, and it would seem that his worries were well merited, as they often are. It was then that I noticed I could no longer hear the sounds of Smeagol playing the trees above me. I did not have long to ponder this, however, for the Orcs were upon us. When the battle was ended, Smeagol was gone, my Lord."

Thranduil looked contemplative for a moment before replying. When he finally did, it was evident that his words were very controlled. "Legolas," he said, not wanting to waste anymore time than had already been wasted. "You should be reprimanded for your lack of attentiveness, but now is not the time. Every moment that we speak, the prisoner is farther and farther from our grasp, and we must find him. He was put in our care for safekeeping, and in loosing him, you will disgrace the name of our kingdom. Jeriel, Adrolas, and you are my finest and fastest scouts. Go, my son, and seek out the prisoner, and do not return until you have found some sign of him at least."

Legolas and Adrolas bowed at the shoulders once again, and left the room. Adrolas looked to his brother and smiled. "You have gotten yourself into quite a mess this time, brother. Losing the prisoner?" Adrolas chuckled and shook his head. "Father should have sent me. I would not have let him from my sight."