Summary : A cruel killer was at large in the realm of Mirkwood. They found out later that he wanted revenge on those people of his past, including Thranduil and his sons.

Hellooooo!! I'm back, every one!! THANK YOU for all those wonderful reviews I've received for 'Token Of Love'. I love little Leggy so much I'm thinking of making another one! To those who had been having 'Adromir's withdrawal' syndrome, it's time to cheer up and prepare yourself for more Leggy's angst…and Keldarion's…and Thranduil's!

WARNING : This story has a connection to 'Torment Not The Child' and loaded with angst. It might get to be R-rated from chapter two onwards.

So stay back and relax as long as you can before the cliffies and angsties explode in your face!

P/s : This is an unbeta-ed chapter.  Any grammar and tenses mistakes will be mended as soon as possible.

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Keldarion, the crown prince of Mirkwood, stepped into his younger brother's chamber at the wee hours of the day only to find that Legolas was still fast asleep. Shaking his head and smiling ruefully, Keldarion walked closer to the large bed. He poked at the lump under the coverlet. "Wake up, brat. It's time for your sword training."

                No respond.

                Keldarion narrowed his eyes, and then he yelled. "Wake up already, you slow poke! The sun is already high!"

Except for some soft mumblings and low moaning, there was still no desired reaction from the sleeping prince. Keldarion's eyes glinted mischievously. Without warning, he grabbed the coverlet and yanked, revealing Legolas' curling body underneath.

Legolas finally stirred. He turned to glare drowsily at his brother. "Go away," he growled before snatching a pillow and plopped it over his head. He drifted back to sleep in mere seconds.

"What a sloth," Keldarion grumbled under his breath. The elder prince sighed heavily and looked around the room, figuring out another way to rouse his brother. His eyes landed on a newly refilled bathing tub situated just behind the screen at one corner of the large chamber. A big smile instantly spread over his handsome face.

Legolas was dreaming of a beautiful princess from faraway land when he was rudely awakened by a strong pair of arms that lifted him off the bed and carried him away. Even before he could yell in protest, the arms suddenly released him. He landed into the tub with a loud splash.

"Sauron's blood, you blasted maggoty stinking orc!!" Legolas sputtered as he splashed about in the water.

Keldarion sat on his haunches beside the tub and grinned at his brother. "You awake now?"

Legolas' only answer was by fluently spewing out another round of swearing and cursing as he glared at the elder prince through the wisp of his soggy hair.

Keldarion just laughed and straightened up. "Good. See you in the field," he said, walking to the door. "And don't be late. Father will also be there so don't fall asleep in the tub. No one will know if you drown."

Keldarion closed the door just in time to avoid the bar of soap that flew across the room towards his head.

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"You threw him in the tub?" Thranduil asked with a raised eyebrow.

Keldarion grinned back. "Of course. It works faster than anything."

The king of Mirkwood laughed and refocused his attention back to his youngest son who was sparring with Commander Linden in the middle of the field. Legolas' moves were smooth and his swings were strong, yet there was room for improvement for his skill with the blade.

The king stepped forward during an interval. "Legolas, now that you have rendered this old chap here senseless…" Thranduil said as he indicated Linden, eliciting laughter from the commander, "How about a round of spar with me?"

"You?" Legolas playfully assessed his father up and down. "A spar with another old chap? Are you sure, kind sir?"

"Ooo…" Keldarion, Linden and the surrounding Mirkwood warriors simultaneously chorused in mock horror.               

"You are in for it now, dear brother," the elder prince said, chuckling. "You know father is the best swordsman ever known."

"I'm aware of that," Legolas replied, pulling a haughty expression for show. "But I'm younger and stronger."

"Oh, really?" Thranduil said as he accepted a sword from Linden. "All right, elfling. Let's put your muscle where your mouth is."

The rest of them laughed and cheered, truly enjoying the playful trading of insults between father and son. Then they watched in entranced silence as the two royalties clashed swords, both of them obviously had the skill and exceptional strength.

Thranduil charged as Legolas parried. The prince then attacked but his father managed to block it. The king came again with a low swing. Legolas nimbly jumped and back flipped, landing smoothly on his feet only to meet his father's next attack. The prince dived, rolled and twisted, blocking Thranduil's blade with his own. "Tired already, father?" he teased. "Want to rest?"

"Who? Me?" Thranduil replied with a smile. "How about you? Want to quit now?"

Legolas grinned. "Not until you quit first!" He pushed down the blade, forcing Thranduil to swirl and gather his balance, and the sparring continued on. Thranduil struck low once more. Like before, Legolas jumped and back flipped. But his father was waiting, already knowing Legolas' next action. Instead of charging with his sword, Thranduil put out his foot and tripped his son, causing Legolas to tumble head over heels onto the ground.

Amid the loud cheers from the sideline, Legolas rolled his eyes at the king. "You don't play fair."

Thranduil looked down at his son, still smiling. "No, it was you who don't play safe. Do not repeat your movements, lad. You can not let your opponent know what you will do because they might use it against you."

"Yes, father, I get the point," Legolas ruefully replied. Then he raised one arm. "Now, help me up?"

Thranduil was bending down just as Keldarion was opening his mouth, "Ah…father, I don't think…"

Just as quickly, Legolas snatched his father's arm and yanked, twisting and grappling like a season wrestler. In no time at all, the king was pinned underneath his son, completely immobile.

"…that's a good idea," Keldarion finished lamely, trying hard to hold back his laughter.

Legolas was grinning down at his father. "Don't ever let down your guard on your opponent, or they will take advantage of you. You thought me that, remember?"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at his son momentarily before he broke into a loud guffaw. "And you surely learn fast!"

Keldarion and Linden then assisted the two back to their feet. "Am I banished from the realm, father?" Legolas jokingly asked as he gave his father a quick hug.

"You will be if you dye my hair red again!" Thranduil retorted.

Legolas blanched. "Ai Elbereth! You won't live that down, will you? It was an accident! How could I know that the servants had put henna juice inside the bottle? If anybody was to blame, it's them!"

Legolas' words sent the rest of them laughing.

The 'accident' happened several weeks ago. Thranduil had been bathing when he realized that his bottle of shampoo was empty. At his urgent calling, Legolas had come answering. The king then asked his son to get him a fresh bottle. Knowing that the servants put the stock of toiletteries in the store chamber by the pantry, Legolas had gone looking there. But he had brought back the wrong bottle. The shape might be the same, but the content was totally different. It contained the henna juice that was used by the maidens to color their hair red. Legolas had only realized his mistake when his father had screamed and ranted a half an hour later. By that time, it was too late. Thranduil's golden hair had turned into the garish color of an overripe tomato. And so was his face.

The prince had to spend the next few hours helping his father scrubbed away the stain. The job was tedious and frustrating. When they had finally finished, Thranduil refused to speak to his youngest son for three full days. But Legolas always knew how to sooth his father's ruffled feathers. In the following nights, he kept visiting his father's chamber to help comb down the king's hair. And then he would massage the back of his father's neck while serenading him with mournful ballads. On the fourth day, Thranduil finally forgot his anger and instead was greatly amused by Legolas' relentless attempts to seek his forgiveness.

Suddenly, the carefree scene in the training field was shattered by the sound of panic shouting. "My lord! My lord!"

A Mirkwood warrior came running with his two companions not far behind him. Thranduil frowned at the three of them. "What's wrong? What's with the high excitement, pray tell."

Still gasping with exertion, the warrior looked so distraught that he had trouble explaining. "M…Murder! A murder has occurred!"

                The collected sound of sharp intake of breath dominated for several seconds in the field before the king asked again, "What are you talking about? What murder?"

                "It's Laiél and his family, my lord," the other warrior replied, a little more compose than his friend. "We went looking for him at his dwelling when he never appeared for patrol this morning, but we found him already dead. As was his wife."

TBC…

I have given you a hint there. Does Laiél's name ring a bell?

Yep. That 'person' has returned! ^_^