By: Alida_Fruit

What if, when Gandalf fell in Moria, the fellowship had done something to aid their friend. What if, in helping, they had doomed the free lands into darkness unknowingly?

Disclaimer: *sigh* Alas, I own nothing.

Chapter #1: Into Darkness

The fellowship stood spell bound upon the rocky ridge on the far side of the bridge of Khaza-Dûm watching in growing horror as Gandalf turned to face the shadow and fire of the Balrog which pursued them.

"You cannot pass!"

Legolas felt a growing apprehension in his mind and he shouted silently, begging almost, for his body to do something. He could feel the foreboding sense of approaching death in the very air from which he breathed and knew that he should go to Gandalf and offer his aid. Of all present here he was an elf and one of the few who might be able to assist. Yet his feet felt leaden and his mind was overwhelmed by the darkness before him. He could not move. He briefly heard Frodo shout out to the wizard but the entirety of his being remained focussed on the bridge and he did not dare spare the ring-bearer a glance.

"I am a servant of the sacred fire. Wielder of the flame of Anor. Dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn. Go back to the shadow."

Such courage. The Istari stood his ground showing a gallantry that Legolas had never before witnessed in all his long years and he felt his soul scream out to Gandalf, this being of light and strength, to run. All of the elfs intuition foretold nothing but disaster would result from this confrontation and he wanted desperately to warn his friend but he remained voiceless.

Everything within the elfs soul wanted nothing more then to disappear from this pit; to find himself spirited back into the safe embrace of the forests which he loved and to never have laid eyes on the darkness which currently compressed in upon his being. But it was not to be.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

The bridge seemed to crack and crumble and the Balrogs eternal flame seemed to flare anew as it dropped, almost in painfully slow motion, into the depths of blackness. The wizard stood precariously on the edge and Legolas felt his voice start to cry out in warning, but too late.

Gandalf was pulled from his feet and hung suspended.

The elf of the company was running before the others had time to even fully understand what was happening. He felt someone make a grab at him but he darted quickly, with the nimble and graceful skill of his people, beyond the reaching hands and tore back out onto the bridge. He again heard Frodo call out and he sincerely hoped that someone had prevented the ring-bearer from following him but could not waste the time to spare a glance backwards to see his companions. So Legolas tore forward recklessly, concentrating all his being upon his life-long friend. He had to save him.

"Fly you fools." Gandalf croaked out as he slipped from the end of the bridge and Legolas had the distinct impression that the wizard was addressing himself but seeing the Istaris grip failing he flung himself forward. He felt his skin rip as he hit the stone but as his hand reached out into the darkness and grabbed the wizards Legolas felt a wave of, however short lived, relief flood through his body. The added weight yanked hard at the elf and he felt himself being pulled over the edge with the wizard. Skidding along and trying to frantically find something to grip onto Legolas found himself half on and half off the stone ledge. He held onto safety with one hand that was bloodied and raw from the rough rock and also half a leg still upon safety. His stomach was balanced perilously along the sharp edge where the bridge was broken and he could feel the cold stone pressing into him painfully. His other leg flailed uselessly in the black air.

Legolas realized with a sharp clarity that he was stuck. He neither possessed the strength to pull both himself and the wizard back onto solid ground while his grip was so tenuous but his stubborn nature forbade him from releasing his burden and pulling himself to safety. Even as he hung here in a sort of surreal limbo he could feel his grip on the older man below him slipping.

"Gandalf! I cannot hold on. Bring up your other hand and hang on to me," he managed to speak through rugged pants of exhaustion.

"This was not how it was suppose to be. Legolas you must..." but whatever the Istaris final orders were to be faded into silenced suddenly. The unmistakable whistle of an arrow flying through the air could be heard with perfect clarity by Legolass pointed ears but he found himself unable to prevent the inevitable tragedy. He could only watch with eyes wide as the arrow embedded itself into the back of Gandalfs frail head, the resulting spray of blood spat out warm to streak Legolas own face and to dip in silent testimony down his cheekbones.

The wizards eyes grew wide momentarily and his entire body seemed to spasm in shock and denial at what had just happen but it did nothing to prevent the light of Gandalf the Greys eyes from fading into lifelessness. Legolas felt a cry wrench itself from his throat but still he clung to the wizards still from, his blue eyes still locked with those of his deceased friend. Lifeless eyes drilling into the elfs soul. Legolas could almost see the reproachfulness in them. He had never in his entire life felt a failure more acutely then his did in those agonizingly slow seconds.

So consumed was he by the passing of the Istari that he hung on heedless of the other arrows that rained down from the far side of the bridge. He remained fixated until the stab of pain tore another cry from his throat. He twisted his gaze from Gandalf to look down at his side. The black feathered tip of the arrow with a small bit of the shaft was the only thing that was visible. He felt himself lose his grip on Gandalf and the figure fell into the shadows below.

"NOOOOO!" Frodos agonized scream ripped Legolas from his daze. Reaching up with his now free hand he extracted the arrow from his body with a firm yank and managed to bit back the scream that threatened to emerge through shear will alone. He held it momentarily. Its black metal sporting his blood before he let it slip from his nerveless fingers. It followed the same path Gandalf had taken only moments ago.

Rolling over he pulled himself back up to safety and somehow managed to climb to his feet and began to run. Both of his slender hands clutching at the arrow wound while he raced back along the narrow path trying to ignore the hail of arrows that followed him. He could feel the warm ooze of blood seep from his body and down his side, hip and leg. Its sticky presence clinging to his hands and making his breaths come in short rasps which were lanced with his pain.

Ahead of him he could see Boromir carrying a struggling hobbit, Frodo, as he ran half-backwards towards the exit of these forsaken caves. He was shouting something and Legolas could see his pale lips parting and closing but could not detect what it was the man of Gondor yelled. Dirty blond hair flying he turned fully and run towards safety. Frodos small face could be seen over his left shoulder, one arm reaching backwards as if even from this distance he could rescue the wizard from the fall into darkness. Large blue eyes were wide with shock and sorrow and his mouth still hung open in a silence scream of denial.

Gimli seemed to snap out of his trance and without another thought he turned and, grabbing Pippins arm, he shouted in a voice that was not to be disobeyed for the remaining three hobbits to run. They did. None of them looked back.

Aragorn had come out a little ways onto the bridge. He was beaconing wildly with one hand for Legolas to hurry and the elf strove to obey despite the weariness and pain that threatened to overcome and undo him. The rangers other hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he stared still into the darkness after Gandalfs fallen form. Disbelief was etched onto the lines of the rangers face in such sharp clarity that Legolas almost collapsed there and then with sorrow at seeing his friends pain so clearly.

Legolas felt himself pass Aragorn and he glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure the ranger followed in his footsteps. But the king of men remained frozen in horror and shock and Legolas immediately slowed his steps and yelled out, "Estel!"

The sound had the desired effect and Aragorn, stumbling backwards a few steps, then swung quickly and caught up with the elf. Together the two fled after their companions in silence.

They broke from the tunnels of Moria into the afternoon sunlight. The sudden brightness seemed almost unnatural and even elven eyes blinked and squinted under the abrupt bombardment. They were free. The realization hit Legolas slowly and it was only the small breeze that tugged at his hair affectionately that made him truly accept that he had made it. Yet only eight of them had come through the underground passageways to once again breath in the light and smell the fresh air. For one, such things would never be embraced again.

Pippin wept openly and his sobs stabbed Legolas in his very soul. Merry too had large tears dripping down his dirt streaked face leaving glistening trails of moisture as proof of their passing. He embraced his younger cousin and although he moved his lips in silent cooing noises of comfort no sound came forth. His eyes were focussed unseeing in front of him and he stroked Pippins cheek in stunned grief. Their pain was tangible.

Sam had collapsed upon the flat rocks and held his head in his hands. His shoulders shaking either from shock or he too cried. Probably the later Legolas thought somewhat disconnectedly as he watched the buoyant blond curls of the halfling flutter as his body heaved in sorrow.

Boromir was staring at the sky. His body shaking somewhat. He seemed unsteady. Exhaustion was taking its toll upon the human and he seemed powerless at hiding his weakness. So consumed was he in his thoughts that he seemed not to even notice his bodys betrayal. Gimli started marching past him with his axe swung over his shoulder and he headed back towards the mine and only Boromirs interference stopped the block-headed being from returning back into the depths of Moria. To search for Gandalf, Legolas thought he heard him say though everything seemed to be so far away from the elf at present. As if he were watching it from far above.

Frodo stood away from the group, his back to them. He was unnaturally still and only the gentle swaying of his cloak in the breeze betrayed the fact that he was not some statue which had been carved from the very rocks upon which they stood.

Aragorn was the first to pull himself together. "Legolas, get them up." his voice sounded hollow to the practiced ears of the elf.

"Give them a moment for pitys sake!" Boromir cried. His voice was strained, matching his bodys fatigue in tone.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien," Aragorn replied passionately. He sounded so in control of himself and Legolas envied him that facade. If only he could get his own torrent of emotions under such restraint.

It was Pippins wail that snapped his attention fully back to the present however. The hobbits voice was soft and filled, not with accusation or cruel intent, no matter what effect they had upon the elf, but rather despaired incomprehension. "Why did you drop him?"

The silence that followed this statement was profound and even Frodo, his cheeks pale with the lines of dampness, had turned to face the company once more as they all awaited an answer. Legolas realized none of them had seen the arrow hit. Their position behind had not afforded them the full horror which had unfolded. They had not seen Gandalfs eyes glaze over or the way his body had lurched when the arrow had penetrated his skull.

"Legolas?" Aragorns voice was flat but underneath that exterior was a deep concern.

Legolas opened his mouth to respond. They deserved an answer. They deserved something but he found himself not capable of forming words. He blinked trying to clear his eyesight from the haze that had settled upon him but the mist stubbornly refused to extinguish.

"Legolas!?" Aragorns voice held a slight note of panic this time. He seemed to finally become aware that something more then grief ate away at his elven companion. Legolas turned his blue eyes to the grey stormy ones of the ranger and he offered as much of a silent apology as he could through mere eye contact.

Slowly the elf pulled his hands from the gapping wound in his side and brought them forward. They dripped red with blood and it surprised Legolas to see that he had lost so much. It dripped from his slender fingers in seeming accusation at the elf. He looked up again and saw the surprised looks of the company as they stared in wordless horror at him. Shock at the sudden revelation keeping them immobile.

Legolas felt his legs tremble beneath him and although elven pride tried to demand he remain on his feet he knew he was close to collapsing. Not in front of the dwarf he screamed in irritation at himself but even as he thought it he tumbled forward into an inner darkness of his own...

_____________________

Aragorn was only vaguely aware of the flash of gold beside him before Legolas was racing back out onto the bridge. The ranger reached out in a moments panic to try and stop the archer but the elfs reflexes were too quick and Legolas evaded his grasp. Beside him Frodo too lurched forward screaming out Gandalfs name but Boromirs strong arms encircled the smaller being and held him back. Aragorn was once again struck motionless. It was as if time stood still.

Legolas form was nothing more then a blur of deep green, brown and gold even to sharp eyes of the ranger. The elf ran with such perfect precision and balance along the causeway that Aragorn did not doubt for a moment that he was witnessing a feat that no human would have been capable of. Aragorn knew that if the archer was not able of catching Gandalf then none here could and so he waited with his breath caught in his throat for the final outcome to emerge.

"Fly you fools."

Even as hope faded though the elf dove and Gandalfs figure did not descend into blackness. He had been saved and Aragorn muttered a quick prayer of thanks. He watched still as Legolas was dragged forward under the extra weight though and the prayer died in his throat. They are both going to go over, he thought.

The ranger started to move forward but felt himself detained by the iron fist of the dwarf. He snarled slightly in frustration and tried to pry himself loose but Gimlis grip was like that of manacles and he found himself rooted to the spot.

"Gimli, I must..."

"No Aragorn. You would not reach them in time and look there," one stubby finger pointed not to the ledge of the bridge but to the opposite side and as Aragorns eyes pierced into the gloom he too saw the growing numbers of Orcs and the first few shots of arrows being fired.

"Legolas! Arrows!" he called out in an attempt to warn the seemingly heedless elf but if the archer heard him he gave no sign. Legolas did however seem to find something to hold onto for he now lay half on and half off the bridge, neither falling further but certainly not reaching up to safety once again. The moment seemed to teeter there before Gandalfs form dropped into the darkness.

"NOOOOO!" Frodos chilling cry echoed into the chamber, vibrating off the walls and shattering what remained of the companies hope in one blazing second of horror.

For a long moment none of them seemed to move, so frozen were they all in their grief.

It was Legolas movements that startled the rest of them into action. As the blond archer scrambled to his feet and once again came charging back along the bridge Boromir started to flee. "Aragorn!" he called out in warning and he turned fully and ran down the tunnel but the ranger remained unmoved by his words. Aragorn moved forwards several steps in stunned disbelief before starting to call to Legolas who seemed to be slowing, perhaps as realization hit him as well.

Behind him Gimli herded the remaining hobbits to safety and Aragorn mentally thanked the dwarf for seeing to the little people in this time of crisis. The elf tore past him then and although Aragorn knew he should turn and follow he found himself unable to do so. It cannot be. Not Gandalf. Please, anything but this.

"Estel!" the soft and melodious tone of the elfs voice reached him and broke him from his trance. Seizing the renewed sense of self to the fullest the ranger turned abruptly and followed him companions.

So it was that Aragorn was the last to break from the confines and evil that was Moria. The human saw little joy in the bright world around him and instead continued forward with determination. He was several steps ahead of everyone when he realizes he alone moved forward. Turning back he was struck again with the realization that Gandalf was not longer among them. The tears of his friends spoke volumes of the loss and Aragorn felt his own throat constrict in grief but, swallowing thickly, he forbid himself the chance to mourn. Not here.

"Legolas," he heard himself say though even to himself the words sounded hollow and forced, "get them up!" In truth he wanted to try and stir his elven friend from the stricken look of despair that marred his handsome features. Aragorn could only imagine the grief and guilt that must be consuming the elf at this moment. Do not blame yourself Legolas, blame the rest of us. For we did nothing. You at least tried. He wished he could form some words to console and reassure the elf but he felt to lost in his own sorrow to try and ease that of those around him.

"Give them a moment for pitys sake!" Boromir snapped and his voice quavered for a moment. Aragorn twisted his head away from Legolas to meet the cold, accusing look of his fellow human. Boromir, please understand and be strong for me. Aragorn tried to say much through their eye contact but Boromirs eyes remained like sheets of ice and no understanding passed between them.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien," Aragorn stated decidedly. The company needed strength and leadership and although Aragorn harbored deep concerns about his ability to fill such a roll none of the others seemed to be able to either so the duty fell to him.

Boromirs eyes darkened with displeasure but if he was going to argue the matter further with the ranger he was cut off by Pippins small wail of despair, "Why did you drop him?"

Aragorn would have done anything in his power to have kept those words from being uttered. He already knew how Legolas mind would be interpreting the events of the past hour and the ranger had no doubt that the elf would find a way to make the entire episode into something of his making but to have Pippin say that now! Aragorn wanted to shout. To take Legolas by the shoulders and shake him into comprehending that nothing more could have been done but his own voice was too constricted to speak. He looked at his elven friend with concern.

"Legolas?" he managed to splutter out. He sounded so emotionless that even he was shocked. That was not what he had wanted to say. The elf looked at him and their eyes met. Elven eyes are more beautiful then humans could comprehend and although Legolas usually schooled his features to betray nothing of what he felt Aragorn was suddenly overwhelmed by what he saw. Such utter sorrow. Such complete hopelessness. Such self-loathing.

"Legolas!?" as this second plea emerged past the rangers lips the elf broke the contact between their eyes and looked down. His hands had come to rest in front of him and they dripped red with blood.

Aragorn cursed himself for not realizing sooner. The elf was injured. The ranger quickly scanned the lithe figure before him looking for the nature and seriousness of the wound and soon saw the darkening clothing along the elfs left side. He was drenched in blood.

Legolas blue eyes widened as he stared at his hands before he once again looked up at the company. They all stood there for a moment like that before Legolas eyes fluttered closed and his body pitched forward though Aragorn caught him before he hit the ground.

Carefully lying the prone body down he started to unfasten the quiver of arrows from Legolas back along with the elfs travelling pack before throwing them aside. He then carefully undid the belt at Legolas hips before, as gently as possible, peeling back the bloodied clothing to examine the wound.

The alarming amount of blood loss was explained quickly. The hole in the side of his companion was gaping. An arrow had obviously pierced his friends body and Aragorn was fairly certain that vital internal organs had also been damaged. The elf was bleeding from the inside. With growing alarm Aragorn ripped open his own pack and pulled from it one of his shirts. Tearing off a large portion of the fabric he quickly pressed it to the wound to try and stanch the bleeding.

Quickly scanning the faces of his companions in an attempt to gauge which was the most stable of those here to assist him he motioned to the dwarf to join him on the ground. Although there was a constant string of bad blood and sometime cruel words between the elf and the dwarf Aragorn did not doubt that in this Gimli would do all in his power to assist.

"Gimli, hold this cloth to the wound. We must slow the bleeding. Press hard and do not, for the love of Valar, stop. Do you understand." The stoic dwarf nodded his head once to show he understood.

Aragorn then quickly rooted through his pack until he pulled his herb kit from it. Carefully opening it he grabbed a few dried leaves from the pack and started to grind them down into a paste on the rocks.

"Aragorn, I can hear Orcish voices on the air," Boromir stated quietly. He seemed torn between distracting the ranger from his vital task and giving warning. "You were right," and the ranger realized how large a confession that was for Boromir to make, "We must move on and quickly."

"But Legolas..." the words trailed off and Aragorn knew dread. He too could hear the foul words of the black tongue floating and echoing down the cold stone through the exit of the tunnels. They would be overrun soon. He quickly gathered up the paste. Opening the elfs mouth he saw that blood had pooled up there and quickly rolled the elf onto his side letting it drain. Then carefully he reached in and rubbed the paste thickly over the elfs tongue. He then hurriedly gather up the last of his athelas leaves and, chewing it slowly, he reached over to Gimli and lifted the cloth before sprinkling the healing herb into the open wound. He normally would have liked to have simmered the concoction before getting Legolas to drink it but fate it seemed was not going to allow them that sort of luxury. It would have to be a rush job until they reached safety.

Carefully taking over Gimlis job once again he lifted the light elf into his arms. "Gimli, carry Legolas things and the rest of you follow me," he instructed in a steady voice despite the turmoil of his soul.

The company ran onwards, putting as much distance between this place of nightmares and themselves as their bodies would physically allow.

_____________________

Chapter #3 ~ Fleeing Paths & Forgiveness

The company moved through the wilderness as a single line with a single purpose. Fleeing. With Aragorn, still carrying an unconscious elf, leading them forward and Boromir and Gimli heading up the read with the hobbits in the middle, the company moved onwards. They did not speak and only the panting breathes they made told of their passing.

A part of Aragorn knew that he would have to allow the company to rest sooner or later or the hobbits would collapse but he could still sense the danger of the Orcs slowly hunting them down and he dared not call a halt yet. Even he though was beginning to feel drained. Legolas was light, as all elves were, and two of the hobbits could probably carry him without too many problems (except of those dealing with height) over a short distance but for several hours now he had run thus and Legolas seemed to be getting heavier and heavier a burden in his arms. He could feel his muscles cramping in complaint and his fingers felt sticky with blood and numb with lack of circulation. Yet the elf still drew breath and as long as there was hope for his companion Aragorn was willing to endure any discomfort. We cannot lose you too Legolas. Hold on, my friend.

Still many miles stretched in front of them before they would reach safety. Many miles more for danger to strike them down. The feelings of frustration and powerlessness were gnawing away at the rangers mood and he could feel all semblance of reason fleeing his mind as it was consumed by a mindless determination to reach safety. He pressed forwards, increasing their pace slightly, and hoped the hobbits could endure it.

"Aragorn," Boromirs voice rang out. "The little ones are collapsing. We must rest," and without waiting for the rangers reply he slung his pack off his back and knelt down next to Pippin who lay on the ground sobbing in exhaustion and grief.

The rest of the hobbits were quick to follow suit and collapsed down beside their cousin all offering soothing words of comfort. The scene softened Aragorns heart and he simply nodded once before gently lowering Legolas to the ground.

"I am sorry," he muttered guiltily. "Pippin, are you uninjured?"

The hobbit nodded his head while trying to hold back violent sobs. "I am sorry everyone," he said through hiccups. "I just cannot run anymore. My legs... Oh, Gandalf! Why did it have to happen?"

"Hush Pippin," Frodo said in a soft voice that was barely more than a whisper. "We will grieve later." These were his first words since Gandalfs fall and Aragorn felt himself start slightly at the ring-bearers voice. He watched in sympathy as the ring-bearer then turned large blue eyes to meet the gazes of the rest of the fellowship members to try and emphasize the point that the wizard was not to be mentioned until they could mourn properly. The silent agreement was made.

Pippin hastily wiped tears from his face and nodded, sniffing loudly. Aragorn, satisfied that the company was as strong as they could be at the present, turned his attention back to the elf.

Legolas was pale and his dark lashes stuck out in large contrast to his complexion. The ranger almost had to do a double check to make sure he did still live but the small beating of the elfs heart could still be felt against the tips of the rangers probing fingers.

"Is he going to die?" Merry asked suddenly. His large dark eyes staring with a profound anxiety toward the still figure on the ground.

Aragorn wanted to say anything that would reassure the hobbit but could not quite bring himself to lie to his smaller companion. "I do not know. He is elf-kind and their people have an extraordinary resilience when it comes to physical harm but the arrow ran deep. I cannot give him proper aid out here either and we dare not risk a fire."

"But we could," Frodo said softly.

"No," Aragorn stated firmly although it grieved his heart to say it. "It would attract unwanted attention."

"Maybe we should take that chance if it means the difference between Legolas life and death," Merry said stubbornly. "He is our companion. We cannot just leave him bleed to death when treatment is but a few sticks and a flame away!" his voice rose an octave as emotions and frustrations lashed out in his tone.

Gimli reached out compassionately and patted Merry affectionately on the shoulder. "Easy there, lad," he muttered in a deep gruff voice. The dwarf then turned and looked at Aragorn. "Surely a small blaze could be risked. Only a few sticks. Not that I care about the foolish elf, mind you," he added in quickly although he fooled none of them, "but he is one of our companions and he would be missed if we were attacked."

"No," Aragorn said more quietly this time and he felt tears stinging the back of his eyes though none fell. "The quest and its safety come before any of us. Legolas knew this," he paused here slightly getting his own emotions under control. "We all know this. We rest here for a short while. Sleep now while you can for we will be moving again shortly." And then he turned his back on them and tried to check over Legolas wound for any sign of improvement.

~*~

Legolas was walking in a dream world.

The trees were whispering things, secrets, and although he strained to hear their song it evaded him. The distant noise settled into an incoherent murmur that lulled his soul into a peaceful state. It seemed so long since he had last felt so completed and relaxed. He inhaled deeply and smiled. Walking between the silver birches he allowed his slender fingers to trace the bark or occasionally caress a velvet leaf. These small contacts left his fingertips tingling with a pleasant sensation, like tracing raindrops down cold, flat marble or running them through the downy, soft hair of a lover. It was so perfect here.

Yet as he walked a growing sense of apprehension gnawed at him. It was like a distant memory that held no depth other then the knowledge that *something* had happened. But the wind was warm upon his face and the fading sunlight that filtered down through the treetops was golden and his mind refused to face the surfacing memories of darkness, not when such light did surround him. He was safe here from all without and he cuddled in closer to the offered sanctuary that this dream forest provided.

A flash of darkness seized his vision and left him panting while leaning against the closest tree for support. Such utter darkness there had been momentarily. He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly trying to chase away the lingering taste of it. He opened his eyes and stared in horror at his hands, which grasped the trunk he leaned against making his knuckled turn white in protestation. They were torn and raw. As he pulled them towards his face to see them better and to his own shock they left smears of blood in their wake. He felt himself trembling.

Eyes. Blue eyes open in accusation and shock, fading... "Al!" (No!) he heard himself moan while shaking his head in denial. "Al ad..." (Not again!) He was shaking harder now and although he tried to focus and prevent his body from showing such weakness it heeded him not.

"Car al danna ned dúath! Mellon, car al aglonn o i ardhon!" (Do not fall into darkness! Friend, do not go from the world!) He heard himself screaming now, partially in pain but also in denial. He was there again, out on the ledge of the bridge. His arms were aching and he could feel the wizard inching away from him. Such desperation clawed at the elf. "Al ad!" (Not again!) he half sobbed as he relived a nightmare that would haunt him for the rest of his immortal life.

~*~

"Aragorn, what is wrong with him!?" Pippin squealed in horror as they watched Legolas arch off the ground and scream out again in elvish. Seeing their normally composed companion in such turmoil was frightening. No, Pippin corrected himself, it is terrifying!

Everything had been peaceful among the group as they rested until the elf had let out a low moan. At first the company had just become elevated at the thought that he might be regaining consciousness but then he had started to toss and Aragorn and Boromir had been forced to hold him down, least he do harm to himself, and then he had started yelling, screaming. It was chilling although Pippin could not understand what was said.

Aragorn ignored the younger hobbit and looked to the elf. "Sîdh, Legolas! Car al ôl ned dúath. Teli ad an ammen." (Peace, Legolas! Do not dream of darkness. Come back to us.) The elf let out a choked sob. His eyes fluttering open although they were glazed over in pain.

"Aragorn?" the soft voice asked in sort of a dazed fashion.

"Yes, calm yourself Legolas. I am here," the elf arched upwards again and his jaw clenched as if holding back another scream. "U-ernim nesto ho egor gedi acharn or chyth dîn. E gwann o cuil. Car al gar în gûr erin. Aen!" (We could not heal (help) him or catch vengeance over his enemies. Hes departed from life. Do not hold onto his death. Let it be!)

"Aranno!" (Forgive me!) The desperation in the elfs voice hurt Aragorn to his very soul. Gently leaning over he cupped Legolas fevered cheeks in between his hands.

"Arannam." (We forgive.) The elf smiled at these words and lay still. His eyes dropped once again and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

The rest of the company sat silently for several moments. "What happened?" Merry finally voiced. "What did he say?"

Aragorn shook his head. "He is unwell," the concern the ranger was feeling colored his tone. "The arrow must have been tipped with poison for he is fevered and delirious. The wound at his side does not knit clean as it should be and even elven healing is failing him. We must get him to Lothlórien and quickly. Come, we move on."

"Aragorn, think! The hobbit will not be able to keep pace," Boromir hissed as quietly as he could at the ranger while the others gathered up their packs.

"I know this but we cannot lie here any longer. I will keep our pace as slow as I dare but if we do not get Legolas to those who can aid him then I am afraid he will not be long in this world."

"This is folly..." Boromir started but Aragorns patience had extinguished long ago and he cut the man off.

"What would you have us do then Boromir?!" the words came out louder then he had intended and the rest of the group froze and looked between the two men.

Boromirs cheeks colored slightly and he tore his gaze from the rangers. "I know not," came his quiet reply.

"Forgive me Boromir, for I spoke in haste," Aragorn said just as quietly in reply shaking his dark head in an attempt to clear it. He could not ever remember feeling this tired before. "We have no other choice," then in a louder tone so all might hear him. "Come, we move out!"

__________________Chapter #4: Desperate Need, Forging Friendships & Memories

The company moved with renewed purpose.

Before they had felt lost and overwhelmed with sadness but now that they had a goal that could make them shove aside their inner turmoil for the greater good of their companion they found themselves moving forward with an added vigor. Even the small hobbits pushed forwards on aching limbs and forced their furry feet to trudge onwards without complaint. Whenever they lost sight of their motivation a small cry of pain from the elf would quickly remind them. It was apparent to all that Legolas was worsening.

The elf was drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering in his native tongue in a feverish delirium. Perspiration had formed over the archer's brow so that the stray strands of hair that had come loose of his hair clasps clung to his forehead and cheeks like a golden halo.

Frodo could see and hear all of this as he ran silently behind the ranger with one hand placed just inside the top part of his shirt caressing the ring within. His large eyes were fixated on the luminescent elf. These people were all here, in peril none the less, to protect himself. Gandalf had already perished due to that allegiance and Legolas might soon die as well. Nothing could begin to describe the guilt that Frodo felt as a result. They should not have to sacrifice so much for me. I am not worth it.

"Frodo?" Sam's concerned voice said interrupting his fellow hobbit's thoughts.

"Yes Sam, I hear you," Frodo replied in what he hoped was a reassuring tone.

"Can I do aught for you?"

"No Sam, in this you cannot aid me." For you have all given me far too much already.

Sam nodded silently although the pain in his eyes at his own helplessness said more then words could. The practical gardener watched solemnly as Frodo's mind once again descended into its own dark thoughts.

The hobbit longed to do something to ease the troubled mind of his friend. He was a simple gardener though and the enormity of the situation went beyond what he could even express much less comprehend. Sam felt lost, helpless and, most frustratingly of all, useless.

"My old Gaffer would have a thing or two to say about us now, wouldn't he Master Frodo?" If Frodo heard however he made no reply. Instead his fingers just continued to inch further into the collar of his shirt. Sam sighed in defeat and he ran on in silence eyeing the ring-bearer constantly.

Near the back of the line Gimli was faring little better then Samwise the hobbit. During the entirety of the quest to date he and the elf had been constantly at each other's throats but over the past week something had changed. Gimli was still confused when he thought back to the day the elf had approached him. It had been evening and they had finally stumbled down from the heights of Caradhras after being beaten back by the evil mountain....

~*~Flashback~*~

"Master Dwarf..." he paused here and Gimli watched in slight fascination as the elf swallowed hard before continuing, "Gimli. I feel my conduct towards you thus far on our quest might have been somewhat childish." Whatever Gimli had been expecting that was not it. He felt himself choke somewhat on smoke as he inhaled and it took two solid coughs for him to clear his lungs and draw breath normally once again. He stared at the elf with eyes large in disbelief.

"I have." The elf's head nodded slightly at Gimli's conformation.

~*~End Flashback~*~

Gimli thought of this and more. Although they had not had any real time to speak to each other since that encounter it had left a sense of brotherhood between the two. Somehow, with Legolas being injured, Gimli felt that he had failed in his share of the deal. That night they had come to the agreement to watch out for each other and in this Gimli had neglected that duty. He could not quiet believe that he was feeling this concerned over an elf.

His face deepened in its scowl.

_________________________________

Chapter #5 ~ Approaching Foreign BoardersThe weary party was now travelling onwards at a brisk walk. The night had been long and tiresome. It had taken its toil upon all and there was not one among the company who had not stumbled at least once during their trek. Now as the light faded back into the distant world with the softest of kisses from the morning sun, Aragorn called a small halt. They once again needed rest though, for even those who closed their eyes, sleep did not come.

"By evening, if we keep this pace, we should approach the boarders of Lothlórien," Aragorn told the group. "This leg of our journey is almost done and once we are in the care of the elves we should be able to rest without worry."

To no one's surprise Gimli snorted at this comment. "Maybe for some of you but this dwarf will not drop his guard in the presence of elves! Humph, I think we choose a perilous road in deciding to traverse those woods, Aragorn, and I want it known to all here and now that I do protest this course of action."

Aragorn shook his head in silent amazement to the persistent nature of dwarves. "We will come to no harm there," he said reassuringly to the wled eyed hobbits. "You see this river that we run parallel too? This is the River Silverlode and it flows straight to Lothlórien." It was a small token resistance and attempt to change the topic but the comment had no effect.

"Aragorn, I too have doubts over our destination," Boromir spoke up hesitantly. "I have heard many ill rumors of the elves who dwell in these woods. Even the people of Gondor fear this place. Should we not perhaps cut south to the River Nimrodel and steer clear of these forests. There will be human settlements in that direction as well where Legolas could be tended."

"No. It was Gandalf's intentions to travel to Caras Galadhon and in this I will honor his wishes. I must ask for all your trust in this."

"Nay, Aragorn! If we travel south now we can bypass these accursed forests. We could approach Rohan from the north and find sanctuary within Theoden's Halls," Boromir pressed.

"That would add miles to our journey. If we travel through Lothlórien then we can be equipped with boats and sail down the Anduin. This was Gandalf plan and I think it best we stick with his desires whether or not he is here to see them done!" Aragorn replied just as heatedly.

"We shall go through the woods as Gandalf wished," Frodo said suddenly and his fellow hobbits, seeing the determination on their friend face, quickly nodded their agreement. "For if this was indeed Gandalf's intent then I trust in his memory. Gandalf would not lead us astray. Nor would Aragorn." The hobbit turned large blue eyes on Gimli and Boromir. His gaze locking with that of his companions for a brief moment as he concluded his speech.

Boromir shook his head and turned from the group but said and did no more. Gimli heaved his chest forward in annoyance while muttering under his breath but also seemed to accept that in this he had been out voted. The course of the fellowship had been decided for ill or for good.

~*~

In the distance the forests rose from the flat planes like the wall of a fortress and even in the evening light they shone with the promise of safety. The trees seemed to glow here. Surreal though it all seemed the company entered the woods like dreamers caught unawares by the powers of the human imagination. The silence and beauty that seemed to prevail here overwhelmed them. The sounds of their footsteps seemed almost a mockery of the peace that reigned here and for the first time Aragorn allowed a degree of doubt to enter his mind over their welcome. Would the elves here give them aid? He had though so only an hour past but now that they were physically here and there appeared to be no reception... The thought was left unfinished.

Most especially Aragorn missed the information Legolas' eyes and ears could have provided them with in this environment. Looking down at the unconscious elf in his arms Aragorn was once again struck with the knowledge that they might still loose their elven companion. For hours now Legolas had lain still. He had not moved, spoken or gained consciousness for over half a day and his breathing was growing shallower. The elf was losing this battle with mortality.

"Stay close, young hobbits. They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An elf witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell and are never seen again," Gimli grumbled harshly. He walked with his axe raised in readiness and poised to fight.

"Gimli, do not scare them so. The elves here are peaceful," Aragorn quickly countered seeing Frodo's head searching, almost frantically, the surrounding area. Looking again Aragorn could detect fear on the ring-bearers countenance. Damn that dwarf!

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam inquired. His voice was weary but filled with concern.

"It is nothing Sam," Frodo said but there was no commitment behind the words.

"Are you sure? If you are tired I am sure old Strider would..."

"No, Sam. We must move on. Remember Legolas," Frodo admonished quietly. No one else's life should be put in front of mine. I cannot and will not let it happen again. Came the ring-bearers silent vow.

"Well, here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

The sudden arrival of arrows left all shocked. Stopping in mid strides they could do not but stare in disbelief that they had been ambushed so quickly and easily. The elves seemed to melt from the shadows glowing like the sudden arrival of angels and if not for the armed weapons they held the illusion would have been perfect.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," stated one of the golden haired beings, stepping forward. His face was set like chiseled marble and nothing of his demeanor showed in his countenance.

Gimli's answering growl might have started more of an incident had not Aragorn stepped forward. "Haldir o Lórien. Henion aniron boe ammen i dulu lin. Boe ammen veriad lin." (Haldir of Lórien. We desire your help. We need your protection.)

Pippin watched in apprehension. Their destinies were being decided and he could not understand a word of that fate. He unconsciously straightened himself and squared his shoulders, a degree of common hobbit practicality taking over his senses. If he was about to be killed by arrows then he would die with a certain degree of dignity he decided.

The youngest member of the fellowship watched as the blond haired elf, who was obviously the leader of this party, stepped closer to Aragorn and reached out to touch Legolas' face. Slender fingers slowly stroked the strong cheekbones and forehead of the wounded elf. The action gave Pippin some amount of comfort for it was a gentle movement and filled with compassion. Surely they could not let one of their own die.

"You must help us!" he stated suddenly causing all to jump slightly. Pippin blushed somewhat when he realized he was the center of attention but mustering together what remained of his frayed sensibilities he continued. "This is Legolas and he is the most bravest of elves I have ever known. He is injured and requires healing. Please, please help him." The last sentence came out in a desperate plea.

"Aragorn, these woods are perilous. We should go back..." Gimli said repeating his earlier sentiments with perhaps slightly more of a appeal behind his tone.

"How is it that Mirkwood's Prince came to such a dire fate?" Haldir inquired and his tone sent shivers of rage up Pippin's spin. The voice had been so unconcerned, almost callous.

"Through the most courageous of acts!" Pippin spat and was surprised somewhat at his own tone. For a moment the small hobbit had sounded right down menacing.

"Pippin," Aragorn's voice commanded and although the hobbit was well aware of the fact that Aragorn wanted him to go silent he found he could not. For two days now they had pushed themselves forward so that the elf might live and the thought of treatment being denied to them at this last stage of their journey was too much for the smaller being to bear. He plunged forward without much though of the consequences.

"No! How can you be so uncaring! He was injured while trying to save Gandalf. He was so brave. You simply *have* to help him." The tone was no longer beseeching. It had adopted an almost commanding like quality, like that a parent would use when correcting the errors of a child. The whole scene had a somewhat ironic quality to it given Pippin had to look so far up to even meet the eyes of the one he scolded.

"Peace, Pippin!" Aragorn stated firmly. He then looked back at Haldir who was staring at the hobbit with something possibly akin to surprise etched onto his features. But who can read the facial expressions of an elf.

Pippin met the gaze with his eyes fully open. A fury had possessed the halfling and he refused to be intimidated any longer. They had all suffered and lost so much and Pippin simply refused to lose another inch of himself. Arrows or no arrows, he thought, I won't be bullied any longer.

And so it happened that the elf finally broke the contact between their eyes.

"You have a stubborn side to you Little One," he stated quietly then. "Do you think us so heartless that we would abandon one of our own?"

Pippin felt his anger leave him as quietly as it had sprung to life. "Well, no offence intended Master Elf, but you are still not aiding him," he said with a little sniff of indignation that caused Aragorn's mouth to fall open momentarily.

Pippin could never quite be sure afterward but he thought he had almost seen something of a smile on the elf's face before it returned to its normal inscrutable self.

"You bring great evil into these woods and yet you still feel in the position to make demands?" he reached out and lifted Legolas from Aragorn's arms and, as if on some hidden cue, the bows around the company were lowered. "I will see to it that the little prince receives aid but I am afraid I cannot allow you to pass." His eyes seemed to bore holes into Frodo's as his gaze fell from Pippin to the ring-bearer.

Silence. Pippin felt confusion, disappointment and resentment well up inside of him. They were going to be turned away.

"Follow me for the time," Haldir continued before turning to another elf in his company and passing Legolas to them. He muttered a quick order to his guards and on his command four of them, including the one carrying Legolas, melted back into the shadows and disappeared.

"Steady on, Pippin. At least Legolas will be helped," Merry said laying a comforting hand upon Pippin's shoulder.

"It is not enough," Pippin said with a soft sigh.

"It will have to be," Merry replied philosophically. "You were brilliant though, Pip. I don't know if they would have even have helped Legolas had you not guilted them into it. What in Middle-Earth possessed you?"

"We have all given so much, Merry" and too his shame he felt his eyes water with tears as he spoke. "Gandalf... I mean you saw what he gave. Then Legolas. They both put everything before themselves. I sometimes wonder why Lord Erond even let me come along. I do not possess that sort of strength and I know what a burden I am to the group," he shook his head when he saw Merry about to protest that last remark. "No, Merry. It is true. Anyway, I saw them just standing there when Legolas was dying and I snapped. I don't have much to give but I know what is right and what is wrong. I merely spoke the truth." Such was the rational of a hobbit.

"Well, you did right," said Merry affectionately. Then in a slightly quieter tone he murmured, "Poor Gimli. He looks none to happy with our escort!" The two young hobbits smiled at each other and tried to contain their mirth over the private joke.

The group started to walk once again as Haldir lead them. Pippin glanced over his shoulder one final time in the direct they had taken Legolas and muttered a quick goodbye to their fallen companion before focussing once again on the path in front of him.

So ended Legolas Greenleaf, Son of Thranduil and Prince of Mirkwood's roll in the Fellowship of the ring.

____________________________

Chapter #6 ~ Elvish Hospitality & Attack Among the TreesWith the seven remaining fellowship members and the additional eight elven warriors they made for a fairly large group. Not that you can see most of the elves, Sam thought somewhat bitterly. Haldir alone remained walking with the group while the rest of his people took to the trees and, with the exception of the occasional flash of colour in the high branches or an elven call, they remained invisible.

Sam had always dreamed of elves. They were the embodiment of grace, beauty and eternity. His fascination had only grown once he had reached Rivendell and witnessed their wisdom and compassion. His obsession bordered close to reverence and worship. As he had overcome the shyness he had felt around Legolas he had grown to learn even more of these fascinating beings but as he walked in the wake of the March Warden of Lórien he felt some of that image crumbling. Beside him Frodo stumbled and Sam lost what remained of his patience. Drawing himself up he prepared for battle.

Marching past Strider (quite the accomplishment given the shortness of his legs) he came up behind Haldir and gave a soft but insistent tug at the back of the elf's tunic to capture his attention.

"What do you want, Master Hobbit?" inquired a completely unfazed Haldir who did not break or slow his stride.

Clearing his throat the hobbit in question spoke up. "Samwise Gamgee at your service Master Haldir and I must request that we stop here for a break. I don't suppose you have noticed but we are all exhausted and cannot go a step further."

"We will not stop," came an infuriatingly dismissive reply.

"Excuse me, Sir, but we will whether or not you and your fellows choose too or not. My poor Master Frodo can barely keep his legs underneath him and I will not have you walk him to death," said Sam with as much indignation as he could muster. "We have traveled far and through much hardship and the elven hospitality we have received here has been certainly lacking!"

Finishing his speech he turned and looked at his fellow companions. "We are stopping here for some well deserved rest," and the glare that he sent to them all stopped ever Aragorn from arguing. Who knew how ferocious a mere gardener could look.

Haldir glanced back at the company and his eyes softened somewhat. "So be it. Rest for the time. My people and I will see that you are not disturbed." So saying he sprang lightly into the nearest tree leaving the company seemingly alone.

"Humph! A pox on elves and their hospitality!" Gimli muttered, none too quietly, before collapsing to the ground.

"Will we see Legolas again? Will they tell us if he is alright?" Pippin asked hopefully.

"I would not count on any such consideration being shown us from these elves, young hobbit! For they are too cruel and inconsiderate. I only wonder if it is wise to leave Legolas to these people's mercy!" Gimli broke out into another rant. His voice softened somewhat, surprising all, when he continued, "I hope he will be alright."

"Master Dwarf, are you saying you will miss the elven member of our fellowship?" Aragorn could not help but ask.

"To an extent. Though you people might not have marked it the elf and I had reached an agreement of sorts," Gimli replied haughtily.

"We are all astonishment!" Aragorn said laughing lightly but he sobered quickly. "But I am afraid Pippin that Legolas might not be joining us again. He will take some time to recover from his injury and I am afraid we will be forced to continue on our journey before he is ready. I think it is Haldir's intention to take us partially through their forests along the River Celebrant before officially ending our travels in Lothlórien."

"But Legolas will be alright, now that he has help I mean?" Pippin pressed and although it pained Aragorn to lie he could not crush what hope the company did have.

"Yes, Pippin. Now that Legolas is in the care of his kin I do not doubt he will recover." The statement was greeted with smiles from most of the group. Now that they did not have to fear for their companion any longer they stretched out exhausted limbs and slept.

~*~

Aragorn woke suddenly. For a moment he was at a complete lost as to why he had jerked awake. He had been too tired to be haunted by dreams and the rest of his companions all seemed to be sleeping soundly. Sitting up slowly and flexing stiff muscles he allowed his eyes to become adjusted to the dim lighting. It was not his eyes that alerted him something was wrong, however, but his ears. Softly he could hear elven voices in the trees above him.

"Boe aphadar aen," (We are being followed.) the voice of an unknown elf said.

Something else was asked and although Aragorn recognized the speaker as Haldir he could not quite hear what was said. He moved as quietly as possible towards the tree which the elves were gathered in all the while straining to hear what was being discussed.

The rest was muffled as well much to Aragorn's annoyance and he was on the verge of simply going back to sleep when he distinguished one word above the others.

"Yrch." (Orcs!)

Aragorn froze as he absorbed the implications of what he had just heard. Glancing back at the tree that he had been in the process of turning away from made him start as he found himself staring at Haldir instead of bark. The March Warden looked rather amused by the reaction.

"They come. Rouse your companions."

Aragorn did not need to be told twice. Striding briskly over to his slumbering friends he woke them quickly and quietly. They rose together gathering up their weapons and their gear. Haldir then signaled them to come closer.

"My scouts have picked up a large group of orcs in this area. They normally do not dare cross our boarders but it seems you have given them the incentive they needed to overcome their fear. We will be overrun and I do not think we can hide from them. Are you all prepared to fight?"

Haldir's inquiry was met with the steely resolute of the fellowship. They were prepared to do what they had to. The other elves melted from the trees to stand with the hobbits, men and dwarf. One spoke.

"We should move farther south. We will have the advantage with that hilly terrain and if things get to rough we can risk swimming the river."

Haldir seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding his approval. "Follow me."

For Aragorn sleep was no longer even a thought. Though still exhausted he found a new rush of adrenaline surging through his system giving him the ability to keep pace with the long strides of the elves. All of his senses were on alert and his gray eyes scanned the deceptively calm forests in search of unseen danger. He did not have to wait long.

The orcs surged up from behind a small hill and spotted the fleeing group instantly. Screaming out foul challenges in their own tongue they rushed forwards with swords and spears drawn menacingly. The company turned as one to face them. Then, like the colliding of an ocean wave upon the shore, the battle began.

Aragorn swung his sword wide as his first opponent came against him. The silver steel shone before sweeping with deadly accuracy across the stomach of the orc leaving it reeling with pain and its inners exploding outwards. A splatter of blood was all the mark it left upon the ranger's body who was already turning to face the next challenger.

This orc was smaller and quicker. It dodged Aragorn's first blow and then parried with one of its own. Soon the ranger found himself being forced backwards as the loathsome orc dispersed blow after blow. The clashing of metal gave Aragorn the chance he needed as the two foes locked in combat. Pulling a danger from his boot he pressed the blade into the throat of the one before him before bringing up one leg to kick the dying orc from his blades and path.

Taking a moment's pause he quickly seized up the situation. They were outnumbered. Badly outnumbered. Aragorn quickly guessed the odds as seven to one perhaps, maybe eight. That was all the luxury Aragorn received though as another beast engaged him. Once again the ranger was struggling for his life.

~*~

Gimli was finding this whole episode rather therapeutic. It was his first chance at spilling enemy blood after the loss of Gandalf and Legolas' injury and so the dwarf just let the maddening blood lust of revenge fill his heart and control his actions. With each sweep of his axe and each severed body that resulted the dwarf felt a growing sense of satisfaction and control. He felt a rather insane urge to laugh as he cleaved and chopped his way through the enemy to stand closer to the hobbits and help in their defense. This was fun.

Screaming out battle calls and insults the dwarf was rather surprised when he heard a scream, not of an orc, but of an elf. Turning his head quickly he saw one of the pale blond heads collapse in a pool of their own blood with an orc's sword still protruding from their chest.

The elf was dead. The first to fall.

Something within Gimli snapped at that moment and brought him back to reality. They were outnumbered and the chances of survival were diminishing as another elf fell to an orcish spear. They had to find somewhere to retreat too and quickly. His eyes scanned for Aragorn and when they found the ranger he felt himself freeze.

The ranger and an orc were engaged in a deadly fight. Their swords we racing, both stained red with the blood of the other. Aragorn had several visible bleeding wounds and the ranger was tiring quickly. With a scream of rage Gimli pulled his throwing axe from his belt and hurled it at Aragorn's opponent. The axe flew true and embedded itself in the back of the foul creature. Aragorn looked startled by the sudden aid but when his eyes met Gimli's there was nothing but gratitude shining in them.

~*~

Pippin was surprised by the fact that the orcs seemed to be overlooking them for the most part. The disgusting creatures seemed to instead be focussing on the elves, the men and the dwarf. In the end it was probably a good thing as none of the hobbits were as capable warriors as their companions, but still, a small part of Pippin's pride was hurt by it. So he decided to do what any good hobbit would do given the situation. He would use it to his advantage.

Racing up behind attacking orcs he thrust his sword wildly at any part that he could reach while they were suitably distracted by someone in front of them. It was perhaps not the most honest of methods on a battle field but it served Peregrin Took well that day as several orcs fell to his sword.

"Retreat! Fly to the river!" Haldir's voice suddenly flared to life above the din of battle. Pippin looked to the elf and saw him helping an injured comrade in the direction he had just told them to fly in. Pippin did not need to be told twice. Looking for Merry, Sam and Frodo he quickly joined them as they ran. Behind them three of the elves covered their retreat with arrows from the trees above.

Boromir suddenly appear beside him and although he did not look too seriously injured the man of Gondor appear exhaustion and he stumbled repetitively as they ran. Gimli too did not look too badly off but Aragorn... Pippin squinted to try and better examine the ranger.

He was clasping at his left arm with his right hand and blood oozed from between his clenched fingers. He also ran with a small limp and there were multiple dark stains that were growing across his clothing, suggesting other injuries. Pippin could only hope he would be well.

The sight of the silver waters of the river was a welcomed sight by all. Never before had water looked so inviting. The current was flowing fast but in the end that would only help them in their escape.

"Leave anything that is too heavy to swim with behind!" Aragorn's voice barked. "Gimli, get rid of some of that armor!"

"I will not!" replied an equally brash dwarf.

"I cannot swim!!" Sam shouted in fear, but one of the elves simply lifted him from his feet, their arms secured around the hobbit's waist.

There was simply no time to argue. They all dove into the current and then swam with all they possessed to safety. Up stream the cries of the orcs slowly faded and once again the company was plunged into silence.

__________________

Chapter #7 ~ Healing & DeparturesSomeone was singing.

It was a soft song that floated on the air. There was a surreal quality to it with a depth of extreme sadness yet beauty as well. It reminded Legolas of watching a morning sunrise in the frosty winter dawns of Mirkwood through a haze of mist so that the splendour was somehow dulled yet present none the less for those who looked to see. He wanted to hear more.

He tried to open his eyes but they remained shut despite his attempts. Somehow the loss of that sense did not trouble Legolas overly much and instead he simply contented himself with listening to the eerily beautiful tune. It was the final deciphering of the words that jolted Legolas fully back to himself and with it his eyes flew open and he sat bolt up right.

It was an action he immediately regretted. Pain lanced throughout his body and he heard himself cry out softly. He sat is a soft bed with blankets drawn up around him. He wore loose pants of pure white and his hair had been washed and combed out straight. On his chest he wore nothing but a thick layer of bandages which were wrapped tightly around his torso and he shivered as a light breeze tickled across his exposed skin. The singer had also stopped singing and, as his eyes gradually became accustomed to the light, Legolas saw whom had sung.

The Lady Galadriel.

She shone more vibrantly then the stars in the skies themselves and although Legolas had had the honor of looking upon her before he was nearly consumed once again by her beauty. She rose from the chair she had been sitting in and approached him gracefully before sitting down next to him on the bed. Her hand reached out and she gently placed it upon his chest before urging him to lie back once more. He obeyed slowly though confusion and pain left him shaking slightly. He felt young and awkward in her presence.

Her sapphire eyes looked into his and although a part of him wanted to turn away and shield her from the darkness he knew she must be seeing within his soul he did not. Instead they silently gazed at one another for a moment that lasted an eternity.

'Young Prince. You are still in much pain. We have rid your body of the poison it carried but it is still weak. You need rest and time to heal.'

'Noblest of Ladies, how is it I have come to be here?' he said and he was embarrassed by how young and scared his own voice sounded.

The Lady smiled and brought one hand out to caress a cheek in comfort. 'Your companions brought you to us when they realized you were beyond their skill to aid.' A deep and profound sorrow filled her eyes then but Legolas could already feel the lulling urge to sleep once again pulling him from her.

'You sing of Mithrandir,' he said as his eyes started to glaze over. The knowledge that the fellowship was safe and that he was healing lifting some of the worries from his shoulders.

'Yes, I mourn a friend,' she replied dejectedly.

'I am sorry I could not save him. I have failed badly in this,' Legolas confessed.

'Do not carry the weight of the dead upon your shoulders young one. Your destiny is heavy enough as it is without that extra burden. Mithrandir would not have you blame yourself for his fall. Rest easy here and let your soul and body heal.' Galadriel then leaned over Legolas and kissed his brow tenderly before standing. Legolas slept ever before she had fully risen from the bed.

Galadriel stood over him for a moment watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She whispered a soft prayer of peace for him, as she pulled the blankets up to cover him once again. She then turned and looked at he husband who had been standing out on the balcony. Celeborn met he gaze levelly.

'We fade Galadriel. We can do no more for them. We have handed on the protection of Arda to the care of men. Do not let your heart be so troubled.' his soft voice said gravely.

Galadriel shook her head. She had not felt so helpless in many millenniums and it was this guilt which had provoked her to tend for the Mirkwood Prince herself and lay him in her very own bed. 'I think I must go and speak to them. If only briefly before they leave us.'

'Do not, my love, for it will only torment you more. Stay here and care for this little one if you must but do not let yourself be any more caught up in the affairs of the outside world then you already are.'

'In this I cannot obey you. Please understand that I need to do this. I will be gone but two days at most.'

'If this will lighten your spirit then go with my blessing but return whole to me Galadriel and do not weep for the inevitable,' Celeborn said softly in an attempt to comfort his distraught wife.

'Ai, I think I shall weep for many nights to come, Celeborn, for I love this world and would not see its fate unfold had I but the power to stop it.' Celeborn wasted no time in crossing the room and drawing his wife into a comforting embrace.

'It is beyond our control now.'

'Things have unfolded differently then I had foreseen. Mithrandir was suppose to emerge victorious from his plight with the darkness and I cannot comprehend what transpired to change the fate of Middle Earth.'

'Some things are beyond our power to interpret. The power of the mirror shows but a single course the river might run. Nothing is carved in stone until it happens.'

'Will you see to the young prince in my absence? I think he will sleep heavily for many days while he recovers but incase he wakes while I am not here I would have someone I trust looking over him. You will explain to him why we could not aid them?'

'I think it is the least we can offer him. Fear not for this young one's soul. I will tend to him personally.'

Galadriel nodded solemnly and leaned forward and kissed her husband tenderly. Their eyes met briefly and the two shared their love through their gaze. They were bound to each other heart and soul for eternity and even though their parting would be but a few days they would miss the stability and comfort each provided the other.

~*~

The company emerged from the river wet and tired. For many miles they had swam down river trying to escape the orcs that they knew pursued them. Once on the bank they had taken count and although the fellowship had lost no members three of the elves had perished and two more held serious wounds. It was a depressing scene and even the picture of a soaking wet dwarf with water leaking from every corner of his armor could not lighten the hearts of those who had survived.

Haldir looked livid. He knelt next too his injured comrades talking quietly to them in elvish but each time his eyes fell upon a fellowship member his dark orbs would flare anew. As of yet he had said no words to them but Aragorn knew it was only a matter of time before the March Warden would vent his anger. The ranger could not fault the elf his rage. The loss of three immortal lives must be taking its toil upon Haldir as it was everyone. Though it had not been intentional the fellowship had endangered the inhabitants of Lothlorien as the orcs had been pursuing them.

"Aragorn, are ye badly injured?" Gimli asked.

The ranger blinked. He was certainly in a lot of pain but he did not think anything too serious effected him other then exhaustion. He glanced at the wound on his arm and examined the large cut that now scared his body. The wound ran deep but the water had cleaned it nicely and so he merely tired a strip of cloth around the injury to keep dirt from it. Quickly taking count of the rest of his body he concluded that everything was survivable and would heal.

"No, Gimli. Nothing so bad. The cut on my arm is the worst of it and even that is trivial enough."

The dwarf eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer before he seemed to accept the given answer with a brief nod. "The rest of us are all in one piece as well though we need proper sleep Aragorn. We cannot continue as we are."

"I know. Sleep now, all of you," Aragorn instructed before turning back to the elves. Walking over, he joined them. 'Is there anything I can do?' he asked quietly in elvish.

'You've done enough!' snapped Haldir dismissively.

Aragorn sighed and decided that for the moment at least it might be wisest to leave the elves to their own devices. He wanted to help but did not dare push the issue. Glancing at his companions he calmly went back over to them and, following their example, tried to sleep.

Haldir sighed as he watched the human return to his friends. His anger boiled within him and he felt so powerless as he watched Rumil, his brother, try and aid their two injured. The elves stood in silence together until the last of the fellowship slipped into slumber.

'That was not exactly fair of you,' stated Sówien. She was a stubborn creature who was skilled with the bow. She had been a member of Haldir's scouting part for only a century now and although their personalities sometimes clashed he held a deep respect for her. At the moment though her light eyes were narrowed in disapproval.

'Do not lecture me on my conduct, Sówien, for it is not your place to do so!' he snapped back.

'Shame on you Haldir! They are not to fault for the crimes of orcs and to hold them accountable for such is childish and ignorant!' the she-elf replied.

The two glared at each other pointedly. Their tempers haven risen to the point where speech was difficult. Haldir opened his mouth to retort but Rumil stood suddenly.

'A horse approaches!'

The rest moved into action almost instantaneously. Drawing bows they turned towards the closing sounds but even as they prepared for battle a sense of calm descended on them and they felt themselves dropping from their defensive stances even before they could see the intruders. So it was that Galadriel found them all.

She slipped from the back of her mare in a single fluid motion. She wore white pants and a silver tunic with a belt resting lightly at her hips, armed with both sword and daggers. She looked both the image of beauty but also carried the appearance of a warrior and queen. She was perfection.

She approached them silently, offering no words, to kneel on the ground next to the injured, her eyes slowly taking in their wounds before scanning the rest of the company. Sorrow filled her expression when she realized that some faces would never be seen again.

'They will heal, my Queen," Rumil said lightly. 'Though their injuries in all appearance look bad it is nothing that our healing abilities cannot fix with time. We will lose no more of our people this day.'

'Have you no escort, my Lady?' Haldir asked in aghast as he realized no other elves approached them.

'Nay Haldir. For none were needed,' she replied though she knew he would be unhappy with her answer.

'Orcs have broken into our forests, Lady, and run freely! Already the blood of our people stains the soil! There is much need for protection in these dark days.'

'This I know well, March Warden,' she replied standing and drawing herself up. Their eyes met and Haldir immediately withdrew from his challenge, ashamed of his outburst. 'You are weary, Haldir. I appreciate your concern for my well being,' she assured him gently.

Then she looked over at the fellowship members who, in their fatigue, had not woken at her approach. She smiled slightly as her gazed passed over the company. They were all such noble souls. Calmly she walked over to where they slept and sat down lightly to await their wakening.

_____________________

Chapter #8 ~ Words of Wisdom, Words of Sorrow & Words of Warning

It so happened that, of all the company, to awake first and lay their eyes upon the golden Lady of the woods, it was Gimli, son of Gloin. The dwarf had been snoring contentedly and it was only the sudden urge to smoke a good pipe that had stirred him from his dreams to once again face the world.

When he sat up and opened his eyes he found himself staring at the epitome of beauty. Golden sunlight seemed pale in comparison as it melted down through the silver branches of trees to the brilliant shine of the golden spun hair which framed her delicately shaped face. Clear ice blue eyes with the depths of centuries of wisdom reflecting in their orbs met his and he knew he would be forever changed from the experience. Some moments touch us and make us new again in the world. So was that instant for Gimli son of Gloin when he first beheld the Lady of Light.

"Gimli, representative of the dwarven people, you are most welcomed to the forests of Lórien," her voice was as soft as her visage.

"Oh Lady, you do me much honor to so welcome me," he somehow managed to stammer out.

At Gimli's voice Aragorn stirred from his sleep, as did Boromir and they too were struck with awe by Galadriel. Aragorn recovered first and rose to his feet, bowing lowly.

"Lady of the Golden Woods, you and your people have given us much. We thank you for the aid you have given Legolas and for the protection of your people."

"Elessar, do not thank me for the shadows of deeds extended with a bitter hand. Instead thank the courage and comradery of your company and your own hearts," Galadriel replied quietly.

By this point the hobbits had also stirred. Galadriel slowly let her eyes meet those of the company. Nothing was said aloud but none were able to hold her gaze long, save Aragorn himself, for the private words she whispered into their minds.

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all," Galadriel spoke aloud finally. Her voice echoing a sadness that made her words even more profound. "Already you have had to part with friends of old and had to struggle with the shadows that seek to corrupt the inner most parts your soul's. The quest grows more perilous." She stood suddenly and gracefully, still managing to maintain eye contact with several people at once. "The ring calls. Would that I could give you some peace from the perversion, but alas, we fade and the power of the elves diminishes."

"Lady, the elves have always been strong for the land. We do not doubt your strength," Aragorn said suddenly. It seemed like he was almost trying to convince himself that the end of an era was not at hand.

"No, Elessar. My people's time is over. We relinquish our claim to this world and hand it on to you now. It is your people's time to shine in this world. Give them hope, Estel."

"You ask to much of us, Lady. To much of me. How can we overcome such darkness without the light of your people!" Aragorn's words sounded desperate now.

"You will continue as you always have, through sheer will of character," her eyes focussed on Boromir momentarily before continuing. "Do not allow darkness into your hearts, troubled though they are with grief and sorrow, for it will fester there and lead to your undoing. Look to each other and trust to hope for in that you will find your strength. Heed not my words and the fellowship will continue along the course it is at present. Give way to darkness and you will falter and be divided. Do not let the fellowship break."

Her eyes watched them all for a long moment again. Such was her sympathy for what these people were being left to do alone. Her eyes then found those for Frodo's and she could see his fear.

"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future." She watched as Frodo slowly absorbed these words. His dark head sinking down to look at the ground at his feet but as he slowly came to terms with what he had heard he lifted his face once again. Looking directly at the elven Queen he nodded once.

"I know what I must do, Lady" he said softly. Although I am afraid to do it.

*You will find your courage,* came the soft whisper of reassurance in his mind.

"I have come to see you all once, before you pass beyond my reach. I have words that you must hear and I leave it to your judgement to heed them. Not all will be easy for you to understand but think long on them before dismissing my council." She paused here to give them all time to understand her meaning.

"Peregrin Took, halfling of the Shire." The young hobbit jumped at hearing himself addressed personally and he looked around wildly for an avenue of escape, for a part of him knew he did not wish to hear what she would say. "Courage you have in your heart and soul but the road before you is full of suffering and peril. Look to the stars when your hope flounders, look to the wind for your aid and know that in the eyes of your enemy you shall find your freedom."

"I do not understand," Pippin whispered in a tiny voice, so great was his fear. The lady said nothing but offered him a small smile of compassion.

"Samwise Gamgee, child of the gardens and all things that grow. Yours is the power of devotion and through that gift will you find your path. Follow your heart when it sounds out in warning, follow your friends when they require your aid and see always the beauty of each moment for that will revive you in times of need. Know when to sacrifice and when to preserve your being."

Sam looked at the lady and nodded once to show he had listened to her voice and would remember her words.

"Gimli, son of Gloin, and master of all that is stone. Do not let the darkness of Khaza-Dûm trouble you for there is evil now in all realms that strive for freedom. It is that same evil that you now fight against, Master Dwarf. The lives of your kin shall not be forgotten nor the glory of that which they crafted before evil corrupted it fade. They will be avenged. Look instead to the future for I see a hard choice you will be faced with and that will divide your spirit. When a path is chosen do not look back to the cross roads and wonder. Have faith in your heart and trust to hope. Do not falter on your journey but also know when you can go no further."

Gimli's head shot up at this and to the shock of the company he had tears on his face. "I will put the fate of my kinsmen in Moria behind me as you council Lady but I do not think I shall ever willing turn from this quest."

"Just remember my words to you, my lord Gimli. That is all that I ask."

"Then know your request is granted. For I will remember everything," the dwarf said humbly.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck, child of the world. Do not let temptation into your heart. Remember the Shire and the call of your home. Remember the friends and kin there that await you. When all is taken from your sight know that it still lies within your heart. Find courage in those around you and in the promise of a better future. Your lose will be the greatest but do not let yourself despair. Instead let it give you fuel to motivate and conquer but always remember mercy. If there is no room in your being for love and compassion then there will be no chance for victory."

"What if I am not strong enough?" Merry asked but Galadriel merely shook her head sadly and did not answer.

"Boromir, son of Denethor, Lord of Gondor. I see such a war within your soul. You fear for your people and their ability to succeed over the shadows. It is a noble fear. Do not let it rule your mind and reason however. To let fear drive your actions will end in nothing but disaster. This, I think, you know. Remember always that a people are only as strong as their leader and when you doubt your own strength look to those who you would follow. There is still yet hope my lord. Yours will be a course of redemption should you otherwise fail. Look to those you remember for wisdom, know what you cannot endure and be prepared to seek the aid of others when you lose your own way. There is no shame in requesting help."

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, rider of the Dúnedan and future King of Gondor. Do not doubt yourself. If you cannot in this matter trust your own heart then look to those who are close to you and let their love guild you." Galadriel slowly walked towards Aragorn as she talked until she stood directly in front of him. She reached out a hand sadly and touched the pendant that hung around Aragorn's neck before continuing. "Am meleth dîn. I ant e guil Arwen Undómiel pelitha." (For her love, I fear the grace of Arwen Evenstar will diminish.)

"Aniron i e broniatha ar i periatham natha methed ned amar hen. Aniron e ciratha na Valannor." (I would have her leave these shores and be with her people. I would have her take the ship to Valannor.) Aragorn replied just as sadly.

"That choice is still before her. You have your own choice to make Aragorn. To rise above the height of all your forefathers since the days of Elendil or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin. Your trials will be great, Estel, but know that every shadow can be chased away with light. Do not mourn your heritage. Instead find strength in it and in your people. Le aphadar aen. (You are being followed.) Neither orc or man but something in-between. They are strong, full of hate and bare the mark of the white hand upon them. Watch for their coming. Nadath nâ i moe cerich. Dan, ú-'eveditham, Elessar." (There is much you have yet to do. We shall not meet again, Elessar.)

"Frodo Baggins, wide-eyed dreamer and courage of this world. Your path shall test you beyond what anyone would ask of you. In the end help might come to you from the most unlikely of places. Know that you are still yourself even when you find your spirit threatened. Remember always who you are and always keep sight of your goal." She leaned over him gently and kissed the top of his head.

She then stepped back from them all leaving them feeling slightly overwhelmed. "Namárië, my friends. Let us part with joyous news that will lighten your hearts. Legolas should recover fully and already he has awoken briefly. We shared as many words as he was able before I left him to sleep once again."

The news had the desired effect and around her the company smiled their first real smiles since Gandalf's fall. It was good to know that at least one out of the nine walkers would live through this experience and that a part of them would be forever remembered if nothing else.

She turned then having done her deed and walked back to Haldir before giving him gentle instructions. Then like a spirit from a dream she mounted her house and without looking back rode off. The fellowship stared after her until she had disappeared among the trees and was lost for sight.

~*~

The company set up camp and stayed by the river for nearly a full day more to recover before moving on. They traveled in silence, each pondering Galadriel's words to them and content, for the moment, to do nothing more. They followed Haldir quietly and contentedly. None asked where they were being led. Somehow that did not seem to matter so much anymore. As long as they were in Lórien they would be safe and that was comfort enough.

For a full day more they traveled thus, basking in the peace of Galadriel's kingdom. It was mid-day when they finally halted and Haldir glanced back at them all with shining eyes. The bitterness he had original felt over the orc attack had diminished and now he felt only sorrow.

"This is where our farewells must be spoken. This place is called the Tongue and if you follow it down river along the Anduin you will be brought where you wish to go," a slender hand motioned to the shore. "These boats are gifts from the Lady. Within you will find provisions of weapons, clothing and food. May the light guild you in your journeys and the stars lead you all safely home. Namárië."

With that the March Warden disappeared back into the forests of his home, his feet left no imprint upon the grass and he passed.

"Namárië, to you as well Haldir," Aragorn called out after the fading elf. His voice echoed in the silence.

"And so were on our own again," Sam mumbled. "Boats. Never liked them."

Aragorn laughed lightly. "Fear not, Sam. We will see to it you do not fall overboard."

"Not that I doubt your words there at all, Mr. Strider, but I reckon some things are beyond your control. Just sees to it please that I am not in the same boat as a Brandybuck or a Took!"

"We take offence!" Pippin said but could not quite keep a straight face in his indignation and ended up laughing.

"Take offence all you want. I know you both too well."

And so it was that Frodo and Sam traveled with Aragorn, Pippin with Boromir and Merry with Gimli. The three boats drew into the water gracefully and soon the forests of the elves were but a memory behind them.

___________________

Chapter #9 ~ Partings

Legolas slept for nearly five days straight before his eyes once again opened to behold the world. It was evening when he woke, and the pale moon was letting its silver rays coat the darkness of the room he was in in a surreal light. The satin sheets felt cool on his skin and the slight breeze that passed through the open room left Legolas somewhat disoriented. Sitting up slowly, he took account of his surroundings.

The room was spacious and well furnished. Something that immediately caught the young elf's attention was a vanity which lay against the far wall with a beautiful carved frame surrounding a mirror just above it. Legolas could see his own reflection staring back at him, his hair a vibrant silver color under the moon's caress and his skin shining lightly, as was the way with all elves. He looked well tended and the sleep had taken away the bruising circles from beneath his eyes that had marred his complexion after Moria. He look rested, yet some sense of trouble yet lingered at the back of the elf's mind, and he knew that not all was well.

Puzzled he let his gaze wander the rest of the room while he tried to identify what was different, what was missing. In the end he was rather shocked and disconcerted to find that it was the lulling call of the ring that was absent. He had almost grown accustomed to the small whisper that pressed against his soul and sought to ensnare him, and now that it was gone an almost hollow feeling was left in its wake. Legolas shook his head trying to rid himself of such treacherous thoughts.

Pushing back the covers he swung his legs out of the bed and let them settle on the floor. The stone was smooth and cold beneath his bare feet and he shivered in spite of himself. He stood slowly, carefully stretching out long limbs, and exercising them lightly from their days of rest. He looked briefly for his clothes but could not see them so made his way to the door as he was.

Stepping out into the hallway showed him nothing except silence. It seemed that all were abed at this hour and he alone wandered awake. He padded softly down the corridor letting his eyes take in every detail, every carving. There was such beauty to see here.

'Does the Prince of Mirkwood know no modesty or is common custom for your kin in the northern realm to wander the hallways half-naked in the night time hours?' a smug, amused sounding voice asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Legolas turned and let his eyes once again scan the area trying to pin point the location of the speaker. Standing in the door frame of a room he had just past was an elf wearing lose robes of silver-grey. He looked familiar and Legolas struggled to try and place the elf.

'Haldir. I wander, dressed as I am, because I could not locate my clothes,' Legolas said defensively, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable (not to mention foolish and young, an emotion he had been feeling often as of late, much to his annoyance).

Haldir smirked in the most irritating of ways before stepping clear of the doorframe he had been leaning against. He came to stand before the prince and their eyes met briefly before Legolas looked away, feeling a blush creep across his cheeks.

'Well, little prince, let us see if we cannot find you something to wear if you insist on being up at this untimely hour.'

'My thanks to you for your aid.' Legolas said quietly before starting to follow the older elf back to the room he had been in before.

'Stay here for a moment and I shall return.' It was not a request and Legolas, recognizing an order when he heard one, could only nod dumbly in acknowledgement. The door clicked ever so softly behind the leaving elf.

Legolas passed the time by wandering around his room letting his fingers touch everything that his eyes had already devoured. Soft fabrics, smooth polished wood and rough stone. He experienced his surroundings and felt more peaceful for knowing them better. His explorations took him to the balcony. Standing fully out in the nighttime air gave him a sense of refreshment. The stars shone brightly and the trees could be heard talking quietly to one another.

Legolas let his eyes slide close and reached out to the forest. He let his consciousness join in with the tree's song and in repayment the trees shared their secrets with the prince. Legolas felt himself frown as he listened to the riddle ridden words.

'You should still be resting, neth cund (young prince).' came gentle words for behind him startling him from his contemplation's.

Opening his eyes and turning quickly he once again came to face Galadriel and, beyond her, Haldir. The March Warden was dressed and carrying a tray with some food upon it, and Legolas wondered briefly how long he had been meditating with the forest.

'I feel I am well rested, Lady, by your care. I have not been given the chance to thank you for bringing me back from the darkness. I stand in your debt.'

'Thank me not till you have heard all my confessions, my dear child,' the sorrow in her tone confused and frightened Legolas. Galadriel was a pillar of strength for the elven people and to hear her sound so defeated troubled Legolas to no end.

Galadriel smiled reassuringly and extended her hand, which Legolas stepped forward and accepted. She gently took both of his hands in hers and ran her fingers over them gently leaving tingling skin in her wake.

'It grieves my heart to know that our children are now forced to grow too soon into adulthood and brave the evils of the shadows without guidance or aid. There are no words I can speak which will convince you to take the white ships from this land to Valannor, are there?'

The question shocked Legolas. He was still considered young by the elves having only reached his majority a few centuries ago and so he bore the remarks about his youth with a patient understanding but to hear talk of him leaving Middle-Earth! No, he was not yet ready. There was still so much here for him to see and experience. He could not abandon this world without a fight, nor could he abandon his friends to face peril alone. He shook his head slowly. 'Nay, Lady, it is not yet my time to sail to the undying lands. I feel I still have a purpose here.'

'Please, do not dismiss my words so quickly for I would spare you if I could. There is nothing but darkness in your future here.'

The words frightened him but he continued to meet her gaze. 'And what of my friends and companions, Lady? Should I leave them to face that horror in my stead. If my destiny is to be unpleasant, then so be it. I will not run.'

'It troubles you that the elves do not aid in this fight, does it not?'

Legolas knew it would be pointless to hide his bitterness from her so he spoke honestly, 'Yes, Lady. We flee and leave the defenseless to be slaughtered. We run from the world and leave it to be covered by shadows. It is too much. I can not stand idly by and do nothing in the face of this threat. I am prepared for the consequences of that choice.'

She nodded and led him over to a small table and motioned for him to sit. Haldir laid the tray down in front of the Mirkwood Prince and then bowed and left. Legolas stared from the food to the Lady Galadriel and then back again. Although it had been many days since he had eaten he found himself rather turned off by food after hearing the Lady's words. Ignoring it for the moment he turned to face the elven Queen once again.

'My companions are not here, are they, Lady?' he asked softly feeling a growing sense of dread over the expected answer.

'No. They have continued on for they found no shelter under these branches.'

Legolas felt an acute sense of disappointment well up within him and he turned his head sharply so that the Lady might not see the accusation and sense of betrayal that sparked in his blue eyes. He started though when he felt Galadriel's cool fingers touch his cheek and then take hold of his chin to turn his face once more to her own. They stared at each other once again for an indefinite period of time while she read all of Legolas' emotions as if he spoke them all out loud. He felt tears gather in his eyes and drip down his cheeks. He loathed the display of weakness but felt powerless against Galadriel's grasp.

'Is there no hope, Lady?' he asked softly and his voice was strong despite his tears.

'Hope is an idea, Legolas. It is a thing of our own making. The question is, do you still hold to hope?'

'You speak of darkness in my future and I know the company is being divided. The fellowship will break for it has already begun and I am afraid. I do not know if I have the strength for the trials ahead. Yet I can be no more then what I am. I shall have to face it whether I hold to hope or not. Have you no words for me but those filled with despair?'

'There are naught but dark words in these dark times. Your soul is light and your heart is pure. Remember that even in the darkness you will shine.'

'How far ahead are they?'

'No more then two or three days from here.'

'I will not reach them in time to stop the divide from happening will I?'

'No. The fate of the fellowship is sealed. We have done all we can.'

'I think I must still go and try.'

'You must do what your heart dictates.'

'Some will not live through this, will they? Some of the fellowship will face their deaths on this quest.'

'All mortals must face their deaths eventually, Legolas. Most immortals must eventually settle in kind as well.'

'Will I?'

She paused and did not answer immediately. 'Will my answer effect your choice and actions?'

'I would like to think not.'

'Then hear these words from me: Legolas Greenleaf long under tree in joy thou has lived. Beware of the sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.' [1]

Legolas turned his head from Galadriel at this point. He closed his eyes against the tears that still desired to fall and wiped those that remained on his cheeks from his face. He stayed frozen like this for a long time while he absorbed the message she gave him. Collecting himself, and wrapping the royal image that had been hammered into him since birth, he once again opened his eyes, now looking fully composed.

'I thank you for your warning.'

'Brave child, is there nothing I can give you to lighten your burden.'

'Nay, Lady, for my troubles are of my own making.'

They sat in silence then for a while. It was a tentative knock at the door that stirred them. Haldir entered once again carrying a pack in one hand and a pile of folded clothes in the other.

'As you requested, little prince. Clothing,' he said dropping what he carried upon the bed.

'Thank-you, Haldir,' Legolas replied rising from his seat to go over and collect his things, secretly glad for the distraction. Taking inventory he was sad to see that his weapons were not there and that the clothing was not his own. Raising an eyebrow he glanced back at Haldir, who shrugged.

'When your companions turned you over to us they gave us nothing except you in person. I know not what they did with the rest of your things and I can only imagine they were abandoned when we fled into the river to escape the orcs.'

'We shall provision you for your travels, young prince. You will be outfitted with the weapons of our people,' Galadriel promised softly. 'We will leave you to dress now and see to the other preparations. Come dawn I think you will be leaving us. I have enjoyed talking with you Legolas Thranduilion and may peace prevail in your soul.'

'Namárië, Lady. May the stars always light your path,' came his soft reply.

____________________Author's Note:

[1] This was a direct quotation from the book. It was Galadriel's message to Legolas via Gandalf when they finally caught up with each other again. I don't have the exact chapter of page number but I imagine most of you know what I am talking about anyway.