Master in Deceiving 
By Yours Truly
siberian_blue18@yahoo.com
PG-13 
Angst 

Disclaimer: Gee, let me check... nope, not mine.
Author Notes: This is the very first Lord of the Rings fanfiction I've 
ever written; so I hope it doesn't suck... it's writing itself really, 
the words just came :) Blame any spelling or grammar errors on the 
fact that English is my second language, Spanish being my first. (I'm 
from Chile)Also, the elvish in this story is put on the way I believe 
it to be. I'm sure it has a lot of mistakes on it, since I just 
searched for each word and placed it... So, just pretend is spelled 
right ok? ;)



Master in Deceiving 


The sun shone on the sky, and the beautiful scenery shone with it, 
giving the nature an air of total perfection. Birds' songs could be 
heard faintly, yet the melody was a sad one, almost like a lament, 
slower and sweeter than normal notes. 

Nobody in the company of eight travelers took notice of any of this. 
For them, this beautiful place could have been as dark as the caves of 
Moria, and they wouldn't have noticed. Each wrapped in their own 
thoughts, in their own pain.

The fellowship's steps were slow and heavy, as they moved farther and 
farther away from the place where they lost one of their companions. 
Gandalf the Grey, lost to the shadows of Moria. The last they had seen 
of him, a brave wizard sacrificing himself for them, and the last they 
had heard of him was that yell for them to run, to get away from 
danger...

"Fly, you fools"

The whisper of a voice made the whole group stop suddenly, and stare 
at the owner of the soft tone, who remained oblivious to their stares, 
as he stared straight ahead, without taking another step forward. Even 
the sad melody of the birds seemed to pause at the voice. Aragorn 
frowned and went to the frozen form of his friend.

"What did you say?" He whispered gently, placing his hand on the 
smaller shoulder.

Blue eyes, wide with... was that fear? Shock? ... Turned slowly to 
Aragorn's face, even more slowly focusing on his features.

The usually warm and happy voice was nothing more than a whisper of 
cold wind as it made itself heard.

"Fly, you fools" Legolas repeated softly, his tone even weaker than 
before. He dropped his gaze from the gray eyes in front of him, to 
stare once again straight ahead, unfocused. "Legolas?" Aragorn's voice 
seemed too loud, next to the soft voice of Legolas, and the absolute 
silence of the rest of the fellowship. "What is the matter?"

'Guruthos gar Mithrandir' ("The shadow of death haves Gandalf") 
Legolas whispered softly 'Ir ha can an enni' ("When it called for 
me").

The color drained from Aragorn's face as the other stared at them, 
confused.

"What did he say, Aragorn?" Boromir broke the silence "It has 
something to do with Gandalf... he said Mithrandir, the elvish name he 
had" Frodo said quietly.

Aragorn ignored them, and stood in front of his friend, filling his 
line of vision, and forcing him to look him in the eyes. "What?"

"Aye, it did" Legolas said finally, in the Common Tongue, before 
slipping back into elvish. 'I annon an Moria ped..."anno i cunn"' (The 
great gate of Moria spoke..."give the prince") "Why didn't you say 
something?" Aragorn was slowly becoming angry, no longer caring if the 
others understood what they were saying. 'Neth cunn raeg' (the prince 
was wrong) Legolas laughed bitterly 'Nauth im maethadan ha' (Thought I 
would fight against it)

After a small pause, Legolas whispered. 'She maetha ha an enni' (he 
fought it for me)

Aragorn didn't know what to think about what he had just heard. Was 
Legolas' silence to blame for Gandalf's... no, it couldn't be that 
way... 

Looking once more towards the troubled face of his elven friend, he 
shook his head, and turned back to the rest of the fellowship. "We 
have to keep going if we want to get to Lothlorien soon. You lead, 
Boromir."

After a minute in silence, they nodded and started walking once more, 
throwing worried glances back to Legolas, as he looked up towards 
Aragorn. Guilt, pain and grief were shinning in his eyes, as well as 
fear for what his mortal friend would think of him now. Still slightly 
confused as to what he should feel, Aragorn grabbed Legolas' arm and 
walked with him, without saying anything or really looking at his fair 
face. So he missed the flash of agony that crossed it. "Estel?" The 
elf's voice seemed childish, and so quiet that, had there been wind at 
that moment, it wouldn't have been heard. Aragorn gripped the thin arm 
a little tighter. "Let's hurry Legolas, we have to catch up with the 
rest of the fellowship"

It was lame, and he knew it, but Aragorn honestly didn't know what to 
say

And Legolas couldn't even begin to form an apology. He couldn't 
forgive himself, and he wasn't expecting anybody else to forgive him.

Because of him they had lost Gandalf.

His friend, Mithrandir...

Aragorn never noticed the silent twin tears that fell from stormy blue 
eyes, and so he didn't realize what had changed, as he led the slender 
frame of the elf forward, holding his arm with an iron grip. Crossing 
the path with the large strides that had earned him his nickname, 
Aragorn soon reached the rest of his companions, dragging Legolas 
along. The elf didn't look up to their concerned faces.

Frodo glanced at the elf a few times, then at Aragorn, trying to 
understand what had them so upset. It was Gandalf's … demise … most 
likely, that affected them all. There was something else too, but the 
ring bearer didn't want to stick his nose where he shouldn't. 

"Aragorn, what is wrong with Legolas? I don't understand elvish, what 
did he say?" Pippin, however…

The ranger sighed at the hobbit's lack of tact, and turned to face him 
"I don't think it is my place to tell you, Pippin, you will have to 
ask Legolas if he wishes to tell you" It was, of course, a way for the 
hobbit to drop the subject for the moment, but the little one didn't 
seem to get that.

Merry sighed inwardly at what he knew was coming next. His cousin was 
still too young; it seemed, to understand what the ranger attempted to 
do by not answering him.

"Master elf, what is troubling you?" Merry's eyebrows shot upwards 
when it wasn't Pippin's voice, which voiced the question, and he 
turned to glance at Sam. Sam shrugged at his look and turned his 
attention back to the silent elf. At first, it seemed as if Legolas 
had not heard him, which considering his superior hearing was quite 
unlikely, but then the blond head turned towards the gentle hobbit 
with a troubled little smile.

"If you knew. Master Samwise, what it is that troubles me, you would 
hate the very sight of me in the future" The melodic voice answered 
sadly "Let me just tell you, that only seven of you might be 
continuing on this quest after Lothlorien, for I have proven myself 
unworthy to belong to this fine group of brave young ones" the last 
part of this statement, was for Sam's ears only, and the little hobbit 
nearly stopped dead in his tracks. "What are you referring to, Master 
Legolas? Without you, we might have been defeated by the orcs in 
Moria!" Samwise frowned as the elf turned away from his gaze. That 
wasn't normal behavior for a member of such a proud race as the elves. 
"Believe me, kind Sam. Moria was the place where I failed all of you… 
later you will understand, and think that it best for me to leave you 
now, while I don't damage you all further" Confused, Sam was about to 
say something else, when he saw that Aragorn had stopped ahead.

"We should make camp" His voice was heard clearly in the silence 
"night is falling over us soon" 

Merry and Pippin happily complied; dumping the packs they carried onto 
the floor, before settling down themselves. Frodo sat next to them, 
more slowly, less interested in much of anything, as Gandalf's death 
still weighted on his mind. With a last glance at the saddened elf, 
Sam went to join the other hobbits. Aragorn started a fire, and 
Boromir went to find water, as Gimli spread his blankets near the heat 
of the flames. Legolas, unnoticed, climbed onto a high branch of a 
tree in silence, a few feet away from the fellowship, and sat there, 
doing nothing, seeing nothing, thinking a thousand things at once. 

Boromir soon returned with enough water to drown a hobbit, and then 
with Gimli, went to hunt anything that could pass for dinner. Sam 
walked near the camp, looking for some herbs to build a salad, as 
Pippin was set to the task of looking for branches to keep the fire 
burning. Merry took out the last of food he had stored in his pack, a 
red apple, and shared it with Frodo, as both hobbits sat in silence, 
thinking of the last time they had been in the Shire. Aragorn 
struggled to keep the fire burning and was about to call out for 
Pippin to hurry, when the young hobbit returned with so much branches 
in his arms, that he couldn't see his own two feet, and without really 
noticing, he dumped them all onto Aragorn. Happy laughter was heard 
through the clearing as the fellowship witnessed this, and saw Pippin 
turn a lovely shade of white at the ranger's expression. Aragorn stood 
up slowly, a small branch stuck on his hair as he did so, and glared 
at the hobbit in front of him, then, without previous notice, the 
ranger grabbed Pippin and turned him upside down. Merry was almost 
rolling on the floor laughing at his cousin expression, and the other 
hobbits were right there with him. Boromir and Gimli returned just in 
time to witness this, and chuckled at the scene, bringing with them 
two rabbits for dinner.

With the mood considerably lighter, they all set to make dinner.

All, except for the quiet elf in the tree, whose blue eyes seemed 
black in the night, as silver tears slowly ran down the beautiful 
face, twisted in grief.

"Fly, you fools", he sobbed quietly to himself, not even hearing the 
joyous laughter ringing beneath him. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
The song is from Tolkien, not mine. Thoughts are in [ ] 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

They had crossed the Nimrodel River today, and the exhaustion they 
felt had been washed away with its pure water. But it had done nothing 
for their grief. So, just as the night before, Legolas had climbed a 
nearby tree, unnoticed, and let the group eat without him. Just one 
tear had been shed on this night… but Legolas, if anything, felt worse 
than the night before.

After the fellowship had their dinner, the elf slowly descended from 
his place in the tree. Years of royalty had showed him one thing. And 
that was how to hide his feelings. And had his father seen him now, he 
would have been proud.

The fellowship glanced at him when he returned, and he felt himself 
saying something about patrolling the area, or something of the sort. 
A silence fell upon them, and Legolas wasn't comfortable. He wanted to 
tell someone his thoughts, and he felt he should talk. Yet, he knew 
there was nobody there to listen and knew he wasn't even worthy to ask 
Aragorn, his friend… well he had been his friend, now he was sure the 
human despised him. He desperately needed a distraction…

So he sat with them, and started telling stories of Lothlórien, 
distracting everyone from dark thoughts. Everyone but himself, that 
was. 

Then Frodo had seemed to hear the beautiful voice of the river, and 
Legolas sang the story to them. He seemed his cheerful self, once 
again…and he was anything but.

His father would be so proud…

An Elven-maid there was of old, a shining star by day: Her mantle 
white was hemmed with gold, Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows; a loght was on her hair as sun upon 
the golden boughs In Lórien the fair.

The sweet elven voice sang with confidence, and the whole nature 
around them seemed to get closer to listen. Trees stopped their 
movements, and even the river seemed to have slowed its rhythm to let 
the voice be heard.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white, and fair she was and free; 
and in the wind she went as light as leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel, by water clear and cool, Her voice as 
falling silver fell into the shining pool.

The hobbits had dreamy eyes as they could almost see what Legolas sang 
about. Gimli stopped his muttering of "damned elf and his songs…" when 
the fair one raised his voice a note with the next lines.

Where now she wanders none can tell, in sunlight or in shade, for lost 
of yore was Nimrodel and in the mountains strayed.

Neither Boromir, nor Aragorn, not any other noted the mask set upon 
the beautiful face, and none seemed to remember what they had been so 
worried about just the day before, as the song continued. 

The elven-ship in haven grey beneath the mountain-lee Awaited her for 
many a day beside the roaring sea.

A wind by night in Northern lands Arose, and loud it cried, and drove 
the ship from elven-strands across the streaming tide.

Legolas himself barely noticed what he was singing. His eyes were 
closed, and to anyone it seemed as if he was merely visualizing the 
song of his people. What he was visualizing, however, was very 
different.

**** "You cannot pass!" Gandalf cried with all the power of the 
ancient Istari in his voice. "I am a servant of the Secret Flame, 
wielder of the flame of Anor! The dark fire will not avail you, flame 
of Undun! Go back to the shadow!"

**** When dawn came dim the land was lost, the mountains sinking grey 
beyond the heaving waves that tossed their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore now low beyond the swell, and cursed 
the faithless ship that bore him far from Nimrodel.

**** "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf screamed, plunging his staff into 
the rock beneath him. With a tremble, the earth gave way and the 
Balrog into the darkness below. Breathing heavily, Gandalf turned back 
to them... Legolas glanced relieved at his friend's face…but Gandalf 
had looked away too soon. One fiery tongue of the demon's whip trailed 
up out of the abyss and took a hold of Mithrandir. Gandalf snatched 
desperately for the rock, clinging to the edge.

With white fingers, Gandalf cried, "Fly, you fools!" and was gone

And Legolas was frozen on his spot. Unable to do anything as 
Mithrandir fell **** There was not a single sign of grief in the mask 
the Prince of Mirkwood wore for his friends. The just saw his face 
concentrated, apparently in remembering the words.

Of old he was an Elven-king, A lord of tree and glen, when golden were 
the boughs in spring in fair Lothlórien.

From helm to sea they saw him leap, as arrow from the string, and dive 
into water deep, as mew upon the wing.

[Dive into the water, that's one thing. Being dragged into the fire, 
murdered by that vile creature…that's another, is it not? Moria wanted 
the prince, not the wizard. Yet the prince was a coward and Moria took 
the brave one, the wise one… the important one…]

The wind was in his flowing hair, the foam about him shone; afar they 
saw him strong and fair go riding like a swan.

But from the West has come no word, and on the Hither Shore No tidings 
Elven-folk have heard Of Amroth evermore.

Finally his voice faltered. Images of his fallen friend became too 
overwhelming, yet his voice was the only sign he gave of this. The 
mask was still in place. 

"I cannot sing anymore" he said, his tone once again normal "That is 
but part, for I have forgotten much. It is long and sad, for it tells 
how sorrow came upon Lothlórien, Lórien of the Blossom, when the 
Dwarves awakened evil in the mountains" 

[They'll believe that] Legolas thought

And they believed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Elvish is how I believe it to be (most likely mistaken!) and thoughts 
are inside { } 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

He sat with fellow elves in the woods of Lothlórien, but he was alone. 
Haldir was currently speaking with his brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, 
about something he had seen in the forest. But Legolas didn't really 
pay attention; he concentrated on listening, to anything, that wasn't 
his own mind.

{You know what you did} his own voice taunted him. {You were such a 
coward, wasn't Mithrandir your friend?} 

Legolas closed his eyes and attempted to picture the forests of his 
own home, the beautiful Mirkwood, to compare their unique form to 
these woods of ethereal beauty. But only painful images of Moria came 
to mind. With a sigh, he then attempted to hear the song of a nearby 
bird, but echoes of his thoughts was all he could hear. 

{Coward, you knew there was something more evil in Moria, and it was 
after you. But you let Mithrandir fall in your place…what a prince you 
make…} 

Haldir paused in his conversation when his eyes fell on Legolas. The 
prince was pale, and his eyes were closed tightly. The shivering of 
his frame would be normal in a mortal, but he was an elf…they didn't 
feel the cold.

'Cunn Legolas?' (Prince Legolas?) Haldir said softly, drawing his 
brothers' attention to the silent prince. 'Cardh baur an hoda?' (Do 
you need to rest?)

{You were so terrified when the Balrog came, you knew it was there for 
you, yet you ran, you ran and allowed Mithrandir to sacrifice himself}

'Cunn Legolas?' (Prince Legolas?) Haldir's voice was a notch higher, 
yet there was still no response from the stoic elf in front of him.

{Mithrandir dant an le, a le na-erui tir...} (Mithrandir fell for you, 
and you only watched)

With a worried frown, Haldir stood up from his seated position and 
walked towards him, as noisily as he could, so he wouldn't startle 
Legolas. But nothing seemed to provoke any reaction. The Lórien elf 
was about to shake him by the shoulders when his brother, Orophin, 
stopped him. 'Ma ae e îdh?' (What if he sleeps?) 

Haldir looked back to the prince and shook his head in the negative 
'eand gael…a tîn hin tafnen' (he's too pale…and his eyes are closed) 
the older elf approached the prince slowly, and sat in front of him.

No response.

{Peniuith cunneg} (Useless little prince) {Le deluna i govanna} (You 
are dangerous to the fellowship) Legolas didn't know his own voice 
could sound so cruel…taunting…

When strong hands suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, he jumped 
slightly in surprise, but that wasn't enough to wake him from his 
self-induced trance-like state. 

'Cunn Legolas!' Haldir shouted, in Legolas' face, but the prince's 
eyes remained closed. 'Legolas! ma trastale behen?!' (Legolas! What 
troubles you like this?!) Haldir shook the younger elf in his grasp, 
until he saw Legolas' mouth open and…

'Mithrandir garont dannen…" (Mithrandir has fallen) his sad voice said 
softly… "Legolas…?" "IR CAN CUNN THEL DANT?!' (…WHEN WILL THE PRINCE 
FALL?!) Legolas' agonized cry broke free, with the line he had been 
repeating in his head since the second he heard that familiar voice 
cry out for them to run… The prince's eyes snapped open and Haldir saw 
liquid pools of blue staring back at him. But those grief filled eyes 
were still slightly unfocused. 'Le pul can, ae ha tuly' (You can cry, 
if it helps) Haldir whispered gently 'Im pulal' (I cannot) 
Inexpressive voice, inexpressive face…but his eyes… 'Im pulal tirio be 
hên' (I cannot look as a child) 'Caral al tirio be hên' (Do not look 
as a child) Haldir answered 'tirio cuin' (Look alive)

{Fly, you fools}

A crack in the mask

{Mithrandir is not alive is he?} 

Legolas' face cringed

{I'm sorry, father}

And his first tear of this night was shed in front of three other 
elves. Haldir's brothers stood up from the floor, and in silence went 
outside to patrol the area, giving the prince and their brother some 
moments in private, knowing Legolas would hate to know his emotions 
had an audience.

After a moment, and before Haldir's eyes, the mask broke, and a 
muffled sob came from the younger elf. 'Mithrandir fern' (Mithrandir 
is dead) Legolas managed to say, before his voice failed him and his 
tears fell faster. 

Haldir placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, whispering softly 'Ha 
thiai be caeda' (it seems like a lie). Legolas merely nodded, before 
he lifted his knees and hugged them to himself, rocking back and 
forth, trying to calm himself…but he had killed his friend…another sob 
was tore from his throat as he closed his eyes. Everything seemed to 
go black; for an instant, and he felt himself swaying…falling…but he 
never hit the ground. 

Haldir shook his head in mourning, as he held the young prince in his 
arms. He needed to get him with Galadriel soon…he was sinking in 
grief…his thoughts halted when he realized that Legolas had stopped 
sobbing, glancing down he saw he was asleep, and he the shivering of 
his frame seemed to have passed. Haldir easily lifted Legolas' into 
his arms and placed him on some blankets. 'Losta eithel' (Sleep well) 
he whispered gently, before going outside with his brothers.

**** Frodo was startled when an elf, one of Haldir's brothers, 
appeared suddenly on the platform he was on.

'Yrch!' said the elf in a hissing whisper "Orcs!" said Frodo "What are 
they doing?"

But the elf was already gone.

After listening to the heavy steps that sounded loud in the silent 
forest, Frodo tried to see the outside more clearly, yet he saw only 
shapes, walking and marching at a heavy step. Definitely not elven 
folk, their steps were silent and careful. Then he heard a scratching 
noise in the wood of his tree, and looked out to see a creature 
climbing, and hissing while it did so.

Two pale eyes were seen, and Frodo went for his short sword, but then 
the creature climbed down and disappeared.

Haldir soon climbed the branches of the tree, and went to talk to 
Frodo. The hobbit remained quiet about who he knew was following, 
Gollum was here, and it had been a brave, if not very smart move, to 
get so close to them on this night.

After the brief talk Haldir descended from the tree and went to the 
platform in which he had been earlier, seeing his brother Rúmil was 
there as he had asked. 'e îdh?' (He sleeps?) Rúmil nodded and Haldir 
stepped gracefully onto the tree, to see for himself. Legolas was 
there, still sleeping, mot unusual for the amount of noise that had 
just come this way. 'Galadriel bauran cene' (Galadriel must see him)

No explanations were needed between brothers, the prince's eyes told 
everything. 

**** The next morning, as the fellowship set, on their way to see the 
Lady of the Woods, Legolas' mask was back in place.

{You're weak} his voice whispered in his mind, as he avoided Haldir's 
and his brothers eyes.

The fellowship didn't notice.

But Galadriel saw.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
I'm using things of the book in here, but since my copy is in Spanish, 
the exact words are changed in the dialogues, and the descriptions 
were made with my own words. Another thing, so far I've been using 
Sindarin in my story, but on this chapter, Galadriel speaks in Quenya, 
and when Legolas answers her he speaks in Quenya as well (Assuming 
that he got that education). 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were sitting in their thrones when 
they entered the room; a white ethereal light surrounded them as they 
greeted the new arrivals. Wise, ancient eyes stared at them from 
beautiful faces, as they welcomed the fellowship. They were dressed in 
white, the Lady's hair was made of gold when the Lord's hair was made 
of silver; but yet there was no sign of old age on their figures, 
except, maybe, in those intense eyes that spoke of millenniums seen 
and lived.

Haldir took Frodo with them, and Celeborn welcomed him in the hobbit's 
language. The Lady said nothing, but stared into the ring bearer's 
face. Celeborn welcomed Aragorn, and Legolas, and Gimli, and the rest 
of the fellowship with words of peace and friendship, yet they felt 
unworthy of standing in front of High Elves.

{I don't even deserve to stand with the fellowship, what am I doing in 
front of the Lord and Lady of the woods…} Legolas' thoughts were 
frantic, as he looked ahead with calm features and controlled 
movements.

"Only eight stand here" Celeborn's words cut through the haze and made 
his heart beat twice as fast, numbing whatever was said after that 
line.

{They know what you did…they have to know what you did…}

When the Lady's eyes rested upon him, he focused on the Lord, 
controlling even his thoughts with mere determination, and pretending 
quite astoundingly that he was unaware of her gaze.

{Mithrandir fell} was what he thought, controlling even what he wanted 
to think {Mithrandir has fallen, earlier in our quest} 

His inner voice returned the second he felt Galadriel's gaze move 
towards another of the company. 

{Mithrandir fell? Of course he did, little prince, he fell because you 
were afraid, and now you are even afraid of the consequences. 
Mithrandir is dead, and you are afraid of what the Lord and the Lady 
will say. What a warrior…}

"No, there were no changes in the council" Galadriel's musical voice 
startled him, but he showed no sign of it. "Gandalf the Grey has 
departed the company…"

{Tell her}

"…I don't know where he is or what he is thinking" Galadriel finished, 
her eyes back on the Mirkwood prince, asking him, but he looked at his 
friends, not at her.

{Tell her, you coward, it's your duty to inform her of what you did}

He opened his mouth, but the voice that said the words, was not his.

"Aye"-said Aragorn "Gandalf the Grey has fallen into shadow…"

Grey eyes met his, and Legolas turned his head down, ashamed of what 
he knew Aragorn was thinking. And he missed the worried look his 
friend gave him.

{Are you going to keep silent, once more? Exactly like in Moria? Are 
you not going to tell the lady of your actions? You are not worthy of 
being a prince, not worthy of being a warrior…you are not even worthy 
to be alive}

Legolas heard Celeborn voice then, directed to Haldir, questioning him 
in elvish why he had not been informed.

Images of the prior night invaded his brain, and hiding his shame, he 
defended the one that had not betrayed his trust.

"We have not spoken to Haldir of what we did nor what our intentions 
are" His voice was firm, with a touch of respect to it, as he 
struggled to not let his fear be heard "At first, we felt tired and 
the danger was still to near; and then we almost forgot our grief for 
a time, while we came happily through Lórien's beautiful paths"

Haldir turned his eyes to the prince, and Legolas met his gaze for an 
instant, before turning away, as Frodo made it clear that grief was 
still with them, and Aragorn began telling the whole story.

{Or the story everyone else thinks it's the right one} His voice 
hissed {are you not going to intervene and say your fault on Gandalf's 
demise?}

But as he looked into the weary faces of his companions, he could not 
even begin to form a word that would forever mark him as the enemy.

"It was a Balrog, from Morgoth," his voice said, and Legolas hadn't 
even noticed that he was actually putting attention. He then said 
something about it being the most deathly, he wasn't even sure, as he 
tried to place his thoughts together.

More words were spoken, and he heard none of them. Images and 
scrambled thoughts washed over him suddenly like a wave, like someone 
had triggered them. The council of Elrond, and his own voice stating 
that he wanted to join the quest. His father's face and his younger 
self, the face of every single one of the fellowship, and at last the 
face that now haunted his every moment.

Gandalf. Mithrandir. {The one you murdered}

Soon he realized that Galadriel was looking into each face, of each of 
his companions, and braced himself for what he knew was about to come.

((Asta Legolas, car lya mer estë? (Brave Legolas, do you wish to 
rest?))) Galadriel's voice asked softly

((Nay, Ñaltariel* vanimalda (Nay, beautiful Galadriel))) It was easy 
to speak with her this way, Legolas pondered, before her voice spoke 
once more

((Car lya mer guineth? (Do you wish to live?))

The question took him by surprise, but he refused to be intimidated 
now. It was time to face the consequences.

((Nay, Ñaltariel vanimalda (Nay, beautiful Galadriel)))

Galadriel paused in her line of questioning, giving him a small smile.

((Yallumë, i thenin* (Finally, the truth)))

((Ring quetta. Heri quet llo cait (Cold words. Lady speaks of lies))) 
Legolas thought.

((Ion a Thranduil, lya auta au i thenin, aica vanda lya car (Son of 
Thranduil, you run from the truth, terrible is the promise you made))) 
her voice was gentle, as she whispered into his mind.

((Alquen Heri, lya ista man n care? (Noble Lady, do you know what I 
did?))

((Tancave (Yes))) 

Legolas felt ashamed, and almost broke the contact when she spoke once 
more.

((Li an ilyë (Much for everyone))) She said gently ((an Mithrandir 
(for Mithrandir)))

Legolas didn't show his frustration. But he could feel it rising {She 
doesn't understand…}

((Tancave (Yes))) he answered at last ((N auta yello llo i anon ar col 
ana nya melda dil Istar (I ignored the call of the Great Door (of 
Moria) and it took my dear friend Istari)))

Galadriel seemed unperturbed by this news, and Legolas wondered if she 
had in fact known this.

{She wouldn't have said that if she knew…what have I possibly done for 
the fellowship?}

((I wish to show you something, Prince Legolas)) Galadriel said with 
her normal, wise tone of voice, she sounded…severe…((I shall find you 
later))

And Legolas was left once more to his thoughts.

{She doesn't understand} His voice whispered {And when she does, she 
will despise you, and your father will soon know all of your actions. 
You have disgraced your family, and you have murdered your friend…}

He never noticed Aragorn's gaze, so he didn't saw the understanding in 
them.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
*Ñaltariel: Galadriel's true name in Quenya. She has names in Telerin, 
Sindarin, and Quenya… *thenin: Is truth in sindar, I couldn't find the 
Quenya word for it! ^_^ 
---------------------------------------------------------------------- 
----------

After a few hours of a nightmares plagued sleep, Legolas decided it 
was a good idea to walk around Lothlorien, to get to know its 
beautiful trees, for he would soon be leaving this forest, his 
friends, and his quest behind…

{I shouldn't return to Mirkwood} He mused; walking in a random a path 
surrounded with trees {my father will never wish to see me again. I 
cannot show up and play prince as if nothing ever happened…} with a 
defeated sigh he climbed the closest tree; into the highest branch he 
could reach, and sat down to think.

{Where can I go, now? …} He closed his eyes tightly, trying to 
remember some place nice.

{You can always go to Moria} his own voice taunted {the place of 
darkness, you belong there now, you are monster…killing your friend 
like you did…}

*** "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf's sounded as clear as it did that 
day…as strong as it did that day…as it will never sound again…"I am a 
servant of the Secret Flame, wielder of the flame of Anor…" ***

{Not anymore, he's not, thanks to you, your royal highness} An elven 
voice had never sounded so cruel, of that he was certain. He didn't 
even deserve to be an elf anymore. 

*** "Fly, you fools!" ***

{And fly you did, did you not Legolas? Did you not just run away? Yes, 
return to Moria, and give the great gate what it wanted. It wanted 
you, remember? 'anno i cunn' it said, "Give the prince"}

Give the prince, indeed. 

{Do something right} his voice said {you are too weak to remain alive. 
Just ask Haldir; he will tell you. He saw your weakness}

He nodded to himself, now determined. He would leave on the morrow, 
and towards Moria. If the Balrog did not come for him, then he would 
launch himself into the abyss…it was where he should be now, not in 
the woods of Lothlórien…he should be in the place where Gandalf now 
lay…

And suddenly, with that thought, a horrible image came to mind.

Gandalf's broken body lying in the bottom of an endless abyss, 
surrounded by complete darkness, not a sign of hope, not even a star 
in the ever consuming darkness…and he was still alive, and suffering 
it all…

"Legolas!" His voice said suddenly, sounding so real, so terribly 
real…

"Legolas Greenleaf! Where are you now?"

The mask cracked and he felt panic rising. Too real, too real

{You can't handle it…you're weak}

"Legolas!" His broken body was there, and he was still alive, and he 
was yelling for him…

{He wants his life back…}

"Legolas!" Blood came with his name, from Mithrandir's mouth…

Panic hit so suddenly, he could not repress it. Bolting to his feet on 
the tree branch he was on, he climbed down faster than any mortal 
could have.

Heavy breathing was heard as he descended, panic taking over his every 
movement.

He could see Gandalf, bathed in darkness, broken, hurt, 
angry…no…furious…demanding his life…demanding what Legolas stole…and 
suddenly the image got to his feet, and it was advancing, and it was 
coming.

"Legolas!" The voice was louder, closer; he could hear the steps 
getting closer, closer…he was almost here…

With a startled cry, Legolas missed the branch his feet was aiming 
for, and lost his balance, vaguely, he realized he had climbed too 
high into the tree, and he was far from the ground, but not far 
enough. Not like the fall Gandalf endured. 

"Ai!" The exclamation of surprise came out of his lips before he could 
stop it, and as he fell he could see Gandalf's image, and on his face 
there was a pleased smile. 

{You deserve this}

He fell, and fell, and closed his eyes, hoping the fall would be 
enough to kill him, to break his neck…he didn't even try to grab onto 
something.

"By Elbereth! Legolas!"

He was surprised when strong arms, very strong arms, caught him 
suddenly, breaking his fall.

{No…}

He landed in something…rather someone…and the impulse threw him, and 
his 'savior' both to the ground. Legolas fell on his right side, not 
even hard enough to break a bone.

Whoever had caught him had saved his life, most likely…

{Damn him}

He stayed on the ground, willing his body to hurt more than it did. 
Hands rolled him onto his back and he found himself staring back into 
Aragorn's face. His mouth was moving but he didn't hear the words.

{Maybe, this is my punishment? Am I deaf?}

But no, the shock soon wearied off and he could hear his friend's 
voice, sounding more frantic that he had heard him in a long time.

"Legolas! Answer me, are you alright?" The same hands were checking 
him over, looking for severe injuries.

{But there are none…} he thought angrily {there are none where there 
should be many…}

"Legolas!"

And it hit him suddenly that it had been Aragorn's voice calling for 
him. Not Gandalf's…

"I'm alright, my friend, thank you" he turned his eyes away from the 
grey one's of the human, and tried to sit up. But Aragorn stopped him.

"Stay there, I need to see if you're not hurt anywhe…" "I'm not" 
Legolas cut him off "Thanks to you, I'm not" He sat up on the ground, 
shaking off the Ranger's hands.

Aragorn frowned. He shouldn't sound angry when saying that, he 
thought…

"And you resent that?" he whispered gently, searching blue eyes that 
refused to meet his. "If I did, you would know the reason," The elven 
voice said clearly, and at Aragorn's frown he continued "but I do not 
resent the fact."

After a pause, Aragorn whispered "You didn't jump off that tree…did 
you, Legolas?" Anger almost broke the mask, but it did not. Calm eyes 
stared at some point beyond his friend as he answered with his usual 
voice. "No, Estel, I did not. I was climbing down when I missed a 
branch and lost my balance"

Aragorn nodded, uncertain at his friend's words, but respecting the 
elf's version.

"I was looking for you…we need to talk about what you told me," the 
human said after a minute of silence, during which Legolas slowly 
stood up from the ground. "What would that be?" Legolas asked lightly, 
shaking off fallen leaves from his clothes, and ignoring the pain on 
his right side.

"You know of what I speak"

Blue eyes went to meet his, but soon averted the look elsewhere. "Yes, 
I do know. There is nothing more to speak of, Estel. I will be 
departing the fellowship in the morrow" after a pause he added, "I'll 
be heading back to Mirkwood"

{Mirkwood, huh? You mixed two names, my dear prince. One is Mirkwood 
and one is Moria}

{He does not need to know that, he will try to stop me…maybe he will 
not…but he still, shouldn't know. I wouldn't want him to pity me}

"You cannot abandon us, Legolas!" Aragorn cried out, surprised at the 
elf's actions. He never, for a second, wanted the fellowship to fail. 
And without the elf…without his friend…it might…he might.

"I've done worse things, Aragorn. I murdered one of you. Why would you 
endanger the rest?" Stoic face and cold voice was the only thing you 
could see. Determined blue eyes were looking into Aragorn's shoulder. 
And the ranger couldn't take it anymore. Raising the chin of his 
friend, he forced blue to meet with grey.

"Murder?" He whispered.

The elf nodded, but now Aragorn could see his emotions, all in his 
eyes.

Anger, determination, self-loathing…and such grief…

"Legolas you did not murder Mithrandir. He fell into shadow. He did it 
to save us…" "He shouldn't have had to save us" Legolas stated calmly 
"have I done what was right and gave Moria what it was after…me…" 
"Legolas, you can't possibly consider…now or never…to have given up 
without a fight. To just die…" "…Like I was supposed to?" Legolas 
finished for him "it was my time, Aragorn, I was being called, and I 
ignored it." "You were being called by the darkness Legolas, not the 
Valar, not destiny…darkness. And you do not serve darkness"

"And Mithrandir did?" Legolas hissed, anger finally showing on his 
features.

"No, he did not" Another voice interceded, and both males turned to 
look at the lady of the Woods, standing there, surrounded by a 
beautiful glow in the middle of the forest.

'Cundu Legolas, tula' (Prince Legolas, come) her musical voice 
ordered, before walking away, expecting the younger elf to follow.

With a last glance to Aragorn, that clearly asked not to follow him, 
he went after the Lady, and fell into step besides her.

"What would the Lady want with me?" He asked respectfully. "The Lady 
would like to show you, now, what she promised to show you earlier" 
Galadriel answered with a side-glance to his face. She noticed wince 
of pain he gave when he walked, but she said nothing.

Legolas nodded and was silent, as he was led through paths of 
beautiful green.

Finally they descended some stairs, and in a place that glowed most 
than others, Galadriel spoke once more.

"Will you look into the mirror, son of Thranduil?"

Ancient eyes bored into his, and silence reigned after that question. 
Unsure, he searched her face. But she had a mask of her own.

"Are you willing to look into the mirror, Legolas?" She asked once 
more "You will see what you wish to see…future, past, present…do you 
wish to see any of this, Prince of Mirkwood?"

He glanced at the object of his insecurity. The mirror's white surface 
glowed with, what seemed to be, light of its own. He was not worthy of 
such a thing…

"You are more than worthy, son of Thranduil. The question is, are you 
willing?"

Surprised eyes went to her face, before he controlled himself. Of 
course she knew what he was thinking. After a moment, he walked closer 
to the mirror, and looked at it.

{Don't look}

He glanced back at Galadriel.

{Don't do it}

And nodded

{Foolish little prince. Not worthy, and not capable of handling it, 
whatever it shows, it will kill you…}

{Is that so bad?}

Galadriel looked into his eyes for an instant and walked to the small 
waterfall, near the mirror. In a beautiful jar she gathered water, and 
slowly poured it into the mirror. With a hesitant step, he came 
closer, and looked.

He saw only his reflection.

{You are not worthy of this; did I not tell you?}

But then the image changed, and he was suddenly looking at himself, 
while he walked alone in the night. There was blood on his clothes, 
and he seemed to stumble as he went. He recognized the place. It was 
the exit of Moria, the place where the fellowship had grieved, and he 
could see himself walking towards the inside of the cave.

And then he saw his body crawl into Moria. Alone and seemly broken, 
just as he was planning to do, as soon as he left Lórien.

Bewildered, Legolas almost looked away, but the musical voice of the 
Lady stopped him. "Watch, son of Thranduil. This images are being 
shown to you" He nodded, slightly unsure.

{Coward}

And he looked on.

He could see 'he' was in front of the abyss, where Mithrandir had 
fallen, and he could clearly see himself crying brokenly, a strange 
glint…of hysteria in his eyes.

Sounds of screams, sounds of cries, sounds of fear reached his eyes, 
and he could see that the image of him wasn't paying attention. 
Suddenly he launched himself into the never-ending abyss, and while he 
fell with sickening smile on his face, the vision changed, suddenly.

A battlefield, an army of ghosts, blood, battle…and the dark Lord over 
it all…having won all…and he could see Frodo's dead body, and Sam's, 
and Aragorn's…the fellowship had failed…

A flash…

In darkness so intense, it drowned; he could discern a shape moving. 
He could see a shape fighting another figure…a much larger figure. And 
then he saw the shape take form, and the darkness part to let it shine 
through.

Mithrandir dressed in white stood there, smiling at him.

And then the image blurred, and he was looking at his own reflection 
on a font with water, once again.

He stood there, frozen, for a good minute, before shock filled eyes 
lifted to search the face of a beautiful and powerful being, which was 
much older, much wiser than anybody.

"What…Lady…Mithrandir?" his voice was small, barely audible for the 
ears of humans.

Galadriel smiled gently, and led him away from the glowing place, and 
into the forest of Lórien. "I saw what you saw, Legolas of Mirkwood, 
yet I cannot tell you how to interpret the images. Believe what your 
heart really tells you, and turn deaf ears to the voices of shadow 
that haunt you. Your inner light is strong, young one, and the shadow 
has not dimmed it, but has turned it against you. Why are you allowing 
it?"

Then the fair Lady was gone, and there stood a very confused Legolas. 
Slowly, he sat on the ground, staring at nothing.

{She doesn't understand}

{Yes, she does, she's the only one who does}

{She knows nothing of your pain; she knows nothing of the voice that 
called you. You were meant to die}

{Galadriel is a queen, and one of the wisest beings to exists, how can 
she not know?}

{Do you think the Balrog was just there? You know it was there for 
you, it was after you…}

{A monster that was awakened millenniums ago, is not in there for a 
mere elf…}

{You are willing to believe in images that could means thousands of 
things? You are that much of a coward? That you will escape your pain 
by merely telling yourself lies? Interpreting words the way you 
believe convenient to lessen your own guilt?}

{I…I should not…}

Heavy steps startled him; they were very close, too close. He should 
have heard it coming earlier.

"Master elf?" The voice was rough, and familiar…and very surprising to 
hear. He looked up into the face of Gimli, son of Glóin. "Yes, master 
dwarf? What brings you so deep into the woods?" Slightly uncomfortable 
Gimli spoke, his words hesitant. "I was…looking…Aragorn said…agh, by 
Durin!" The dwarf exclaimed suddenly "I was looking for you" Puzzled 
eyes lifted to stare at the dwarf's own. "You have found me" he stated 
unnecessarily "What did you wish to speak with me?"

To the prince's surprise, the dwarf sat down on the ground with him. 
"The rest of the fellowship has been wondering where you keep running 
off to…" his gruff voice informed him "and I will admit to be curious 
myself"

Legolas nodded and turned his gaze back into nothingness. "I go 
nowhere…I just go" Frowning, Gimli was not satisfied with his answer. 
"Did you not speak with Lady Galadriel recently?" "Aye, I did" his 
voice was neutral, as always, while in his mind he saw the images of 
the mirror being replayed. "And nothing more than confusion plays in 
my mind"

{Nothing more?}

Legolas was startled when Gimli voice the same question, and doubted 
if he had indeed lost his mind. "What did you say?" eyes narrowed and 
ears trained on the dwarf in front of him, his voice remained the 
same.

"I asked, if confusion was indeed all, elf" Gimli said, surprised at 
the reaction. "You look distracted and seem to be distancing yourself 
from the rest of the group" "Nay" he denied, eyes glancing around, not 
really looking at anything "'tis nothing"

With a frustrated sigh, Gimli mumbled something, and Legolas trained 
his eyes back on him. "I am not a 'Crazy elf', master dwarf," he 
stated coldly, even as his mind responded.

{Aren't you, now?}

"You seem like one" Gimli easily changed concern by annoyance "You 
talk nonsense, go wandering and hear nothing while I talk to you" "I 
hear" Legolas answered angrily, his voice the only trace of the 
emotion "but that does not mean I must care for your words, son of 
Glóin" "I was merely stating the truth" the dwarf responded, now angry 
himself "since Moria you are nothing like the warrior you seemed to be 
before, you look…"

{Weak}

{Coward}

{Insane}

{Alone}

"…Pained" Gimli finished "But do not worry, crazy elf of Mirkwood, you 
hide it well. Had I not seen your expression a few minutes ago, I 
would not know how you felt"

A whisper stopped the dwarf from storming off and leaving the elf on 
his own.

"Nobody knows"

Cold blue eyes locked with his and the dwarf felt suddenly weak. With 
a sigh, he read the confusion in those pools of ice, and said what he 
thought, like was his custom. 

"It seems that not even you know"

Silence followed those words, as Legolas looked away.

{How did you knew that?} He wondered silently, studying the face of 
the dwarf.

And the woods of Lothlórien saw a new friendship begin. 

**** They had remained in Lothlórien for days, or at least that's what 
they believed, for the day never seemed to end on the golden woods. 
Legolas had spent most of his time away from the fellowship, but he 
returned to eat and talk with them, often taking Gimli away to walk 
with him. The fellowship didn't understand the sudden change. 

When everyone rested their tired bones and grieved Mithrandir's fall, 
the fellowship set out once more.

And as Galadriel bid them farewell, she noticed the shadow still 
inside one member. It had not been defeated…merely diminished for the 
time being. 

{Nobody knows} was what she heard.

Silence hung heavy of the company of eight, as the boats traveled 
slowly, farther and farther away from the golden woods of Lothlórien, 
the weight of their mission returned to their tired shoulders. Ahead 
was Legolas' boat, carrying the elf, Gimli and most of the luggage. 
Then came Strider's with Sam and Frodo on board, and last on the row 
was Boromir's, accompanied with Merry and Pippin. 

Frodo sat in silence staring at the beauty of the scenery, his fingers 
playing idly with the ring that hung around his neck on a golden 
chain. The hobbit could see that the fellowship was weary of what laid 
ahead, for the idea of traveling to Mordor would never sound appealing 
to anyone but an orc. He sighed softly and looked at the ring he held. 
He could feel it become slightly heavier, as they moved towards 
Mordor, but Frodo was certain, that it was his own imagination. 

The other thing he felt, however, was not that easy to brush aside: 
danger was near, too near, and it seemed to go with them. He was 
fairly certain that his senses were not warning him about Gollum, for 
Gandalf's words had reassured him on the subject. But that left 
something worse to consider. Someone in the fellowship could have been 
corrupted…Frodo shuddered, and he felt Aragorn's eyes on his back. 

"Are you all right, Frodo?" the ranger's voice was gentle, but his 
stare was firm when he turned to face him.

Frodo nodded and gave a small smile of reassurance, before settling 
back on the boat.

{There's something…}

The hobbit looked at each of his companions, and attempted to imagine 
any of them betraying the rest.

{A sound in the wind…}

Aragorn, Pippin, Sam, Merry, Gimli, Boromir, and Legolas … he could 
not see them hurting him...

{Is that a whisper?}

The strange light on Boromir's eyes did not go unnoticed by the 
hobbit…and yet, he still could not see the human betraying any one.

{You hear it? Is a call…and an answer…}

Frodo turned away from Boromir, to stare back ahead, and saw Legolas' 
frame stiffen suddenly. Considering if he should say anything or not, 
he decided to not risk any danger.

"Master elf, are you all right?" his voice called out, and the 
fellowship looked at the elf, Gimli and Aragorn a little closer than 
the rest of them.

{No…I'm not. There's something in the air}

After a few moments Legolas nodded to Gimli, sitting ahead of him, and 
turned back to face the rest of the group. "I am quite all right, 
young Frodo, why do you ask?" his tone was friendly, and betrayed 
nothing.

Frodo looked at his face, and saw his expression relaxed, and normal. 
He shook his head "For no reason, I suppose. I just thought I saw you 
listening for something? Thought there may be danger"

{There always is…everywhere…}

The elf smiled gently at Frodo. "Do not worry, dear hobbit. If I feel 
any danger you will be the first to hear of it. But, you are right as 
well, for I was listening to the song of the trees that surround us"

{How I wish my words were true, for I have not heard the trees in 
months…it feels as though I have been in a cage for months…}

Frodo smiled back, relieved that the elf could still find it in him to 
listen to nature. He nodded and glanced at the woods surrounding the 
company, at the shore of the wide river. "They are beautiful. I 
believe that Mirkwood is not far, is it?"

{I fear I don't even know that any longer, for that voice is filling 
my thoughts, and the answer it receives chills my bones…}

Legolas stole a glance around, and sighed to himself. By now, the rest 
of the group had turned the attention away from the conversation. 
"Aye, the woods of Mirkwood are close to where we are. Southern 
Mirkwood. Once so beautiful, those trees are not a safe place anymore"

Frodo had heard the tales from his uncle Bilbo, and nodded his 
understanding, the brief conversation coming to an end, silence 
descending once more.

{I must warn Aragorn} {Afraid to keep a secret, are you?} {Why should 
I keep this a secret? It would do no good} {No, but your secret in 
Moria did a lot of good for everyone…} {I…I will inform Aragorn of 
this voice…of the danger…} {And scare the poor hobbits with your 
hallucinations?} {This is real} {What is?} {The voice in the air, 'tis 
real. I can hear it; I know it's real} {Do you, really?}

Doubt clouded his mind suddenly, and he looked at Aragorn. The man he 
still considered his friend, thought enough bad things of him already. 
Now to make him think he was delusional?

{You are afraid}

And Legolas could not deny it.

****

Lost in thought he never noticed hours pass by in a flash, and soon 
Aragorn was leading the boats to the shore, for they had reached their 
destination.

"Here we will rest tonight," said Aragorn. "This is the lawn of Parth 
Galen: a fair place in the summer days of old. Let us hope that no 
evil has yet come here…"

Legolas barely heard him, the whisper now almost a shout of victory, 
as the answer it got was stronger, and he could no longer keep the 
fear it raised in him hidden inside.

{Weak}

"We should leave now" His elven voice interrupted some silly 
discussion between Aragorn and the dwarf. The human looked at him, 
before shaking his head "No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must 
wait for cover of darkness" his voice was normal, and Legolas could 
not detect any trace of anger or anything else directed at him. But 
then, you could never hear anything in his own voice, unless he 
allowed it.

{Will you tell him now? Can you tell him you are delusional?}

The elf sighed. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow 
and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near...I can 
feel it"

{Can you? A shadow and a threat, you say? Was it not a voice?} {The 
voice speaks of shadow, and of danger. I have not lied} {Of course 
not. Never does Mirkwood's Prince lie}

Legolas received no answer from Aragorn. For it was then, that a fact 
was revealed. Frodo was missing, as was Boromir.

{Then, I suppose your hallucination was in fact real. For you were 
right, dear prince, the voice that answered the lull of the ring, was 
in fact Boromir's} his own voice mocked him…

And Legolas was left boiling in anger, for his own self-doubts may 
cost the fellowship another life,

He may cost them the ring bearer's life.

**** Running through the trees with Gimli in tow, Legolas' hurried to 
find the little hobbit, or any trace of the human he knew was with 
him.

{How could I doubt myself?}

Pausing to let Gimli catch up, he searched further, eyes traveling 
through land and trees, elven senses toned towards any sound of 
voices, any sound of steps, or anything that may help them in their 
search.

{I knew what I heard, yet, I doubted. I waited too long before warning 
Aragorn…}

Gimli ran fast, straining to not be left behind by the elf's lighter 
steps, and longer legs. His eyes could see nothing beyond trees and 
natural beauty. Not that he noticed the beauty of the place, for his 
worries lay elsewhere.

{The voice spoke clearly of Gondor; of the way the Ring would help 
them all. It spoke of a stone city that needed the power of a gold 
jewel…and its seductive tone would have lured most…}

And then, they heard it.

Boromir's horn sounded; the horn of Gondor's call was loud in the 
silent forest.

{Aye…Boromir!}

"The horn of Gondor!" He heard his voice cry to Gimli, before his legs 
carried him swiftly towards the sound.

{You knew of Boromir. You heard his voice answer the call, did you 
not?} {Aye, I did. He answered the call, speaking of the rights his 
people have earned. My own doubts…} {Can kill them all} 

And he barely noticed that he ran faster. 

"Orcs!" He shouted, loud enough for Gimli to hear. His bow was on his 
hand in a flash, and arrows flew and killed dozens of orcs, as Gimli 
swiftly cut through quite a few of the creatures' throats.

But when they finally reached Boromir, it was too late.

Aragorn was there, kneeling before him, and Legolas' heard the son of 
Gondor draw his last breath.

When the warrior lay still and silent before Aragorn's tear filled 
eyes, Legolas' blood ran cold.

{You see, fair prince?} His voice sounded loud and he wanted to cover 
his ears against the cruel sound of it {you have killed another one}

{Boromir is dead}

Wide blue eyes searched Aragorn's face, even though he knew what had 
happened. He heard it; he could clearly see Boromir's body with cruel 
dark arrows sticking out of it. Yet he searched the ranger's face, his 
friend's face, for some sign of hope.

{So soon, you have killed again?}

There was none, only grief in the mortal's stormy grey eyes. And when 
grey met blue, Legolas felt his face go pale.

{Can you feel the loss?}

He felt like weeping, like a child, and abandoning this quest that had 
cost them dearly; had cost them too much, too soon. 

{So you are running away? I don't even know why you have gone this 
far! In Moria you should have turned back, freed your companions in 
Lothlórien. But here you still stand…in front of the body of the man 
you have killed just now}

Bowing his head and closing his eyes tight, Legolas suppressed ideas, 
suppressed images, suppressed emotions, as best as he could. 
Protecting his face, his actions and his very presence with the 
illusion of strength, with the mask he had carried for thousands of 
years. 

"Alas!" He said, walking to Aragorn's side. "We have hunted and slain 
many Orcs in the woods, but we should have been of more use here."

{Maybe Gimli could have stopped the orcs…could have done something to 
protect this poor human} {Against you?}

"We came when we heard the horn-but too late, it seems. I fear you 
have taken deadly hurt." His voice sounded melodic, and steady as 
ever.

{I have hurt Aragorn…I have killed Boromir…and Mithrandir… by Elbereth 
I am slaughtering them all!}

"Boromir is dead," said Aragorn. "I am unscathed"

{Are you? I killed your friends…I am still murdering your friends…}

"…For I was not here with him. He fell defending the hobbits, while I 
was away upon the hill."

{He fell while I knew he was in danger, while I knew he had been 
tempted …he was alone…} {You abandoned him, did you not? You were 
looking for Frodo…but what of Boromir? Of Boromir you thought nothing 
but betrayal. And he fell because of you} {Frodo…?}

"The hobbits!" cried Gimli, his voice cutting like his axe through the 
elf's thoughts "Where are they then? Where is Frodo?"

{Yes, Legolas. Where is Frodo? Did you at least found him? Did you 
protect him, like you swore you would? Where is he?}

**** Frodo paddled away from the shore, and the River bore him and Sam 
swiftly away. Down the western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of 
Tol Brandir. ****

A strange feeling overcame Legolas, as images of the wide river filled 
his head.

{Now I think of nature? When Boromir has passed? Now I manage to think 
of the beautiful river? When I murdered another one?} {Is that what 
you're thinking of, right now, fair prince? Of nature?} {No…I'm 
thinking of blood}

"I do not know," answered Aragorn wearily, interrupting Legolas' 
thoughts once again. "Before he died Boromir told me that the Orcs had 
bound them; he did not think that they were dead."

{Nay…} {The hobbits as well, Legolas of Mirkwood?} {NAY! AL I LEND 
AROD PERIANNATH! AL I TITHEN IR!} (Nay! Not the sweet noble hobbits! 
Not the little ones!)

"I sent him to follow Merry and Pippin; but I did not ask him if Frodo 
or Sam were with him: not until it was too late."

{Nay…say it's a lie …Aragorn, nay, wake Boromir up…wake him up, make 
him stand again, and tell the hobbits to stop hiding…you taught them 
to play, did you not? Like when you were younger and we used to play? 
Remember? That you hid and I went looking for you in Rivendell? They 
must have loved that game!}

{Open your eyes, Prince of Mirkwood. Open your eyes and see the blood 
around Boromir, see Aragorn's tears…}

{Nay…nay…the hobbits are very good playing…I can't hear them! Pippin 
must be waiting for me to go and find him, now…and Merry must be 
hiding with him! And Sam must have helped Frodo to find a good hiding 
place, too…Boromir? Would you help me look for the little ones, 
please? We don't have a lot of time, so we must find them 
fast…Aragorn? You can tell Boromir to stand up now…}

"All that I have done today has gone amiss. What is to be done now" 

{His voice is so sad…why is that? Estel?} {Legolas…look around…} 
{Nay…he's gone…I killed him?} {Yes, little prince. You know that} {And 
I hurt the little ones too?} {Yes, Legolas. And you're hurting 
Aragorn, now. See? He thinks it's his entire fault} {But it's my 
fault!} {That's right. Tell him what to do now, Legolas. Mithrandir 
fell and you ran. What are you going to do about Boromir? Estel is 
asking what to do now}

"First we must tend the fallen," said Legolas, answering Aragorn's 
question gently. "We cannot leave him lying like carrion among these 
foul Orcs."

{I cannot bear to seem him like this anymore…is he not going to wake 
up, now? is he gone…for real?}

Gimli said something that he elf barely heard, but Aragorn's grief 
filled voice managed to cut though the confused haze of thoughts that 
was now Legolas' mind, and he felt his voice answer, what he said, he 
didn't even realize. 

{I want to cry. Why is that?} {Hear of what they speak of, little 
prince}

"…The River of Gondor will take care at least that no evil creature 
dishonors his bones."

{Bones?} {Estel wants you to help him, Legolas. He wants to let 
Boromir sail back to his home, now, all right?} {All right. What do I 
do to help?} {He wants you to take all the weapons from the orcs lying 
in here; so that, with those, Boromir can defend himself on the boat}

With a nod to himself, Legolas searched the bodies of the Orcs, 
gathering their swords and cloven helms and shields into a heap. Gimli 
and Aragorn doing the same.

Suddenly the Ranger's voice rose, and spoke of the little ones.

{The other ones you murdered} {What?} {Merry and Pippin. They have 
been captured, because of you} {I…I thought they were hiding? Those 
little ones love to play} {You know that's not true, Legolas.} {Yes, 
it is. They love to play} {You know of what I speak, little prince} 
{I…think…} {Estel is speaking, now, Legolas, listen to what he's 
saying}

"…I will take these things, hoping against hope, to give them back."

{No…'tis not true, they are all right!} {Are they? Why didn't you 
protect them, Legolas?} {No…I do not wish to hear this!}

"And I," Legolas said suddenly, "Will take all the arrows that I can 
find, for my quiver is empty."

{Yes. I'll focus on that. I need arrows to protect them. I am a good 
archer; I need arrows for my quiver…} {You can't escape this Legolas…} 
{Arrows, many arrows, some of these arrows look a little strange, 
don't they?} {You can't escape what you did} {These do not look as the 
arrows the orcs use…}

Legolas looked at them closely, and nobody noticed when his eyes 
unfocused.

**** "Farewell, and may the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free 
Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces! " 

**** Elrond's departing words rang loud on elven ears, as Legolas 
looked up to the sky briefly. It was day, there were no stars…and he 
felt happy about that. He could not bear the thought of them watching 
his disgrace. Of the star's light covering his wrong deeds.

{What thoughts can you bear at this point, Legolas? You are weak; you 
are the reason of so much death…}

"I have not seen these tokens before," Aragorn's voice managed to 
bring him back into the present. "What do they mean?" "S is for 
Sauron," said Gimli. "That is easy to read."

{Nothing is easy to read anymore}

"Nay!" he said softly, but his cold tone made his two remaining 
companions look at him. "Sauron does not use the Elf-runes."

With a small questioning frown at him, Aragorn added something, else, 
but the elf no longer heard. 

{You can't escape any of this! The halflings are gone. Because of you, 
and only you, they are missing. And Boromir is dead, and Mithrandir 
has fallen into shadow. Aragorn doubts himself, when nothing is his 
fault! Grief has settled in his mortal heart, because of you, you know 
this is all true, and you know you can't escape it}

With almost unnoticeably glazed eyes, Legolas followed Gimli's lead to 
bring back the boats, and the grief was too much for the dwarf to 
notice anything. When they found one of the boats missing, Legolas 
searched around for it, and Gimli didn't thought anything of his 
silence.

And neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed that Legolas' voice sounded 
hollow, when he finally spoke, and that he didn't really seem to be 
there anymore.

For Legolas was… busy.

{Estel? Gimli? Where did you two go? I can't see you…what is that song 
you are singing Aragorn? Can I sing? It sounds so sad…I'm sad too…}

{Boromir? Where are you going? Can you see Frodo and the little ones 
from that boat? We have to find them soon! But I can't hear them; they 
are very good at hiding…}



{There is something very wrong…}

"No other folk make such a trampling," His elven voice said. "It seems 
their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even 
in their way." 

Yet, Legolas was not speaking.

{Where am I?} {You are protected, Legolas} {Protected? Where? I can 
hear my voice speaking, yet it's not me thinking those lines…I can 
hear Aragorn and Gimli, clearly, can feel my body moving…but I see 
nothing…what is this…Estel? Get me out of here…its dark…Gimli…Where 
are you all?} {Shh little Prince, do not panic. This is but your own 
mind…} {What? Nay, I wish to be out of here! Elbereth…Im iest an tira 
i gîl…Im car al cen calad ned si…} (Elbereth… I wish to see the 
stars…I do not see light in here) {Do you think you deserve light?} 
{No…I…perhaps not, but I wish to help…to find the periannath…} 
(Hobbits) {They are lost because of you} {And I want to find them! Let 
me out!} {You are not ready} {…I…I want to be out…} {Hush little 
prince; just wait…} {…'Tis so dark…} {Just wait…}

Aragorn looked around as they advanced, following the tracks left 
behind by the orcs. To him it seemed like the orcs had left them far 
behind…too far behind. But hope was not to be lost, for he knew that 
they had to succeed, there was not any other choice. They had traveled 
so much in one day, in the highlands of Emyn Muil, where the trace 
became harder to follow, and the company of three slowed their pace. 

The Ranger was greatly concerned, and burdened from the death of his 
human friend, he was burdened from Gandalf's fall, and the fact that 
he had left him in charge…and from the very quest they were now 
pursing, hoping against any odds to help the little hobbits, now in 
the hand of foul orcs…

And he was burdened, as he had been since Lórien, for being unable to 
speak to his friend…after Galadriel had taken the elf away from their 
conversation in the golden woods, Legolas had avoided contact with 
him, answering only the necessary to keep up appearances, no longer 
singing like he loved to, and no longer smiling like he used to…with a 
sigh Aragorn looked ahead, and was relieved to see that just a few 
paces ahead; the Emyn Muil came to an end. 

Hurrying towards green grass, he soon was stepping on the valley of 
Rohan.

{I can feel…grass…nature! Where are we?} {Rohan} {I wish to see!} {You 
cannot. Just feel…} {Please? Just for a moment…I wish to say 
something, to have control of my words…} {You think you are ready? 
Very well Legolas; open your eyes and enjoy the view}

Even when he had been up all day, and not once he had escaped into the 
dream world of elves, Legolas felt as if he were waking up from a 
nightmare. The green of the grass was like a gift from the Valar to a 
tired soul.

"Ah! The green smell!" he said. "It is better than much sleep. Let us 
run!"

{Please, give me something to drive the thoughts away?} {You can't 
escape it, little prince}

"Light feet may run swiftly here," Aragorn answered, drawing his 
friend's eyes towards him. "More swiftly, maybe, than iron-shod Orcs. 
Now we have a chance to lessen their lead!"

His feet felt light, as he ran, and he felt wonderful, almost 
normal…no voice, no anguish, nothing to remind him of the quest. 
Surrounded by green fields, he forgot even the reason why he was 
running.

But the illusion was shattered when he came across the beaten grass, 
left behind by many orcs.

Then Aragorn was showing him something to be hopeful about, for Pippin 
had been alive when he passed these fields. And had left them proof of 
his presence, by leaving a leaf made of jewels in the middle of the 
path.

{See how desperate the little one was? See that he left some so 
precious behind? Do you see what you did to him?} {He was alive…} {For 
how much longer?} {Don't say that…they will be all right…} {Will they? 
And what of Frodo?} {He…he left…} {To his death!} {Do not say such 
things} {You are not ready…} {NAY! Do not put be back in that dark 
place! I wish to be outside…}

"Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness," he said 
sadly, hoping to lead the voice away, to distract it, somehow "Come! 
Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle 
burns my heart."

And they ran, and the voice was quiet, for Legolas was not 
listening…he was enjoying his moment of freedom, and he was 
reconnecting with the feeling of being alive, of being able to run, to 
see nothing but the road ahead, and elven endurance was strong, for he 
did not get tired, and did not notice the night was falling upon them, 
until Aragorn stopped their pace.

{NAY! Al idh!} (Nay! Not rest!} Desperate, his voice sounded yet 
nobody could hear it.

{They will die…} And there was his voice again, cruel and taunting…

{Run Aragorn, we must run!} 

{Weak, you want to stay and rest…you will let the little ones die!}

{Aragorn, do not stop!}

The ranger asked them both, the elf and the dwarf to choose, and 
Legolas hurried to speak his mind. 

{I cannot stop now…}

"Unless our enemies rest also, they will leave us far behind, if we 
stay to sleep." His voice was urgent as he looked ahead.

But Gimli fought him on it, Aragorn decided to stay… and Legolas felt 
his strength weakening.

{Don't give me a chance…do not give me a choice}

{Weak}

{I do not wish to be in the dark…no…}

{Yes, little prince…}

But Aragorn was fast asleep now, and Legolas' eyes remained open, even 
while he was once again swallowed by the darkness. 

**** Aragorn woke the next day, to find his dwarf friend still asleep, 
and Legolas just standing there looking sadly ahead.

His voice was sad, when he spoke, hollow almost, and to the Ranger, 
the elf's eyes looked unfocused and dull.

"Legolas?"

His friend looked at him, and the lack of inner light on those blue 
pools, scared Aragorn more than any orc.

"Yes?"

"What is ailing you, my friend?"

{Estel…help me; please just help me…'tis so very dark…I'm afraid…}

"Nothing Aragorn. What could be ailing me?"

{Aragorn! He is not I; I am here…Estel listen to me…}

"You know of what I speak, Legolas, do not hide from me" His tone was 
harsh where his eyes were gentle, and Legolas was screaming inside, 
for he wanted to break his mask, now…when his mask was breaking him.

Legolas shook his head, apparently confused, and it was then that 
Aragorn saw something strange in the blue orbs.

A small light that shined in his eyes, to then vanish just as fast as 
it had come. It flicked in and out, giving Legolas' gaze the illusion 
of life…momentarily, before settling back into a dull fog.

"Legolas?" He asked, surprised at what he saw 'Pedan nin!' (Speak to 
me!)

"I am speaking to you," his voice answered calmly, but Aragorn saw the 
small light that came and went in his eyes.

"What is this?" the human murmured to himself, moving closer to his 
elven friend. "Legolas…?"

{It's not I, it is not I, Estel, look into my eyes, and see with your 
own eyes, 'tis not me!}

The elf's stoic face did not change, but the light was there again, a 
little stronger, more noticeable. 

"Legolas wake up" Aragorn whispered gently, for his eyes seemed 
trapped in a nightmare.

"I am awake, Aragorn, what are you saying?"

{No, I am not Aragorn; get me out of the dark!}

The ranger, now seriously concerned moved closer and placed a gentle 
hand on his shoulder. Legolas shuddered.

{I think I can see you now…}

The light slowly returned to blue eyes and Aragorn started to smile, 
when suddenly Legolas started to fall. With fast reflexes the ranger 
was able to catch him and gently hold him in strong arms.

{I can see…} {You are not ready} {Neither are you}

"What was that Legolas? Are you all right, my friend?" His body was 
shaking, and Legolas felt a tear sliding slowly down his face, as he 
shook his head hesitantly. "…Estel…I…something is wrong…I'm 
sc…scared…" Grey eyes widening, Aragorn placed his arm around Legolas' 
shoulder. "What is it…?"

He never finished his question, for Gimli woke up then, and when he 
looked back at Legolas, his mask was back in place, the dim light in 
his blue eyes that spoke of suppressed emotion was the only sign that 
the Ranger had not been dreaming.

"But it is still dark," said Gimli, barely awakening. "Even Legolas on 
a hill-top could not see them till the Sun is up."

{If I do not find a reason to keep fighting, I'm afraid I would not 
see your hand in front of my eyes, Master dwarf} {What reason is there 
to keep fighting, Legolas? Haldir, and now even Aragorn have seen your 
weakness, seen how you hide} {I did not wish to stay in the dark…I did 
not wish to show them} {Yet, you did. You did not fight…}

"I fear they have passed beyond my sight from hill or plain, under 
moon or sun," said Legolas.

Aragorn's eyes were sad when he noticed Legolas averted his gaze from 
his, even when he answered his words. 

"Where sight fails the earth may bring us rumour," The ranger said, 
placing his ear to the ground.

{I could hear them as well, Aragorn, stand up from the floor. We must 
move}

{Do you realize how selfish you are?}

Aragorn focused in hearing the distant sound of iron clad feet, and 
the approaching sound of horses. His sleep had been troubled from the 
sounds, and he distractedly thought that he would not be sleeping well 
for some time, now. For even if these were not dangerous and troubled 
times, his friend's words had shook him to the bone.

{I wish to help…} {Aye, you wish to help yourself} {i periannath…} 
(The hobbits) {…Are not important to you, as long as you receive what 
you long for}

It was the first time in a life-long friendship the ranger had ever 
heard Legolas admit an emotion openly…much less show the terror in his 
eyes, as he had in that instant.

{All I long for is freedom} {Freedom? Pray tell, where are you being 
held?} {In my own mind…and I wish it no longer, I wish for no voices, 
and I wish for freedom, for normalcy} {Hear this little Prince, for 
without voices, you would not seem normal. For normalcy, with you, has 
always been a mere illusion, created by yourself, to others. And this 
is what has occurred. To others you are normal, and you are left to 
deal with the reality…alone}

Finally deciding on what to inform, Aragorn stood up from the ground 
in the dawn's pale light, and glanced at his friends; informing them 
both of the horses coming, and the very distant sound of the orcs. 

{Go and run, Legolas. But from yourself you cannot escape}

"Let us go!" The elf said, looking ahead.

{Let us go, by Elbereth, allow me to run}

{Weak}

So the third day of their pursuit began. During all its long hours of 
cloud and fitful sun they hardly paused, now striding, now running, as 
if no weariness could quench the fire that burned them. They seldom 
spoke. And Legolas felt every instant like a thousand of his years, 
for the silence that reigned between him and his friends, was not 
lived by him.

{Run, run little Prince}

His legs felt light, as he ran.

{Try to escape, attempt to entertain yourself, but you will see}

Yet his mind felt as heavy as the biggest rock.

Aragorn was close behind him, the hobbits were in mortal danger, and 
they had to reach them before Saruman could do anything to the poor 
little ones…

{You will see it is not possible to run from your fears, and it is not 
possible to ignore your own mind}

Endless leagues they had passed, and Legolas was certain he would keep 
running for endless days, if it was what it took to bring home those 
cheery hobbits. Yet he knew that the others could not, and his 
internal battle was tiring him, in the way running never did. The 
silence was heavy in these lands, and the lack of life around them, 
had him alert to anything. 

{Selfish you are, little Prince. You are alert; because you do not 
wish to hear what you know is the truth. Without this voices that 
confuse you and make you fight against your own mind, you would not 
seem normal to others. You would not know how to handle anything}

And adding to everything else, he could feel another presence in the 
air, in his very thoughts, trying to slow him down…another presence 
that for once, were not his own doubts. 

The company halted at dusk, and Legolas turned to look at Aragorn, for 
the first time since they had spoken earlier, in the eyes.

{You cannot run}

"Now do I most grudge a time of rest or any halt in our chase" said 
Legolas. "The Orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron 
were behind them. I fear they have already reached the forest and the 
dark hills, and even now are passing into the shadows of the trees."

{I wish to die} {Your wish shall be granted when your right all your 
wrongs} {How am I to bring the dead back to life? How am I alone to 
save the little ones from an army or orcs?} {How are you to die, then, 
my dear Prince?}

Aragorn was speaking of something important, something he knew, and he 
forced his mind to focus on his voice.

"…Sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart 
more than in the limb." The human was saying. And Legolas recognized 
of what he spoke of.

"Truly!" said Legolas. "That I have known since first we came down 
from the Emyn Muil. For the will is not behind us but before us." 
Pointing he drew his friend's attention away from his face. "Saruman!" 
He heard his mortal friend mutter, and then he said what he did not 
want to hear.

They were to rest once more.

Gathering strength, he offered to take first watch and let his friends 
sleep. Focusing on his surroundings and on the quest ahead, Legolas 
did not wake anybody during the night, for he knew that if he sank 
into the dream world, he might stay there. 

But on this night, there was never silence…always his own voice 
haunted him, to the point of wishing he were a mortal, for surely he 
would have dropped dead by now. 

{Weak…} {Coward…} {Not worthy…} {Murderer…} {You wish to give up…} 
{Rest, little Prince…} {Go, and dream…} {Cannot escape, you shall 
never escape…}

Giving up on his mask, in the external quiet of the night, his tears 
fell silent, with no one to witness the scene…or so the elf thought.

For two pairs of eyes were watching, and both felt dread at the 
thought of facing Legolas.

For, no matter how much Aragorn had always wished that Legolas would 
break his mask; he was not ready to face it, just now. He was not 
ready to deal with the pain he could see on his friend's expression.

And a shadow observed, a strange, sad light in it's ancient eyes.

****

When Legolas could take no more, he moved to wake his friends, waking 
Aragorn first. He moved to wake the dwarf when the ranger caught his 
arm.

"Legolas, we must speak of this" his voice was gentle as he looked 
deeply into the familiar elven features "whatever is troubling you, is 
killing you, I can see it in your eyes"

Legolas shook his head, his words soft. "'Tis nothing my friend…I am 
merely saddened, that is all"

Aragorn stopped his second attempt to wake Gimli, and forced him to 
look into grey eyes.

"It is not nothing" he said firmly "if it were nothing, your eyes 
would not be begging me to understand as we speak"

Legolas sighed, knowing Aragorn, he would not let go of the subject. 
He sat down on the ground and pulled the ranger to sit next to him; 
when he did, the elf took a hold of his forearms and looked him 
straight in the eyes.

{I am scared} {I am weak} {I wish to die} {I murdered Mithrandir} {I 
have killed Boromir} {The hobbits are gone because of me} {I am 
slaughtering you all} {The quest shall fail because of me}

"I am all right," His voice declared, with a note of sadness and a 
note of honesty. Fake honesty. And if Aragorn had not grown up amongst 
elves, he would not know the difference.

But he did.

"You are not" the ranger said firmly, holding the gaze of his friend 
"You seem…gone sometimes, my friend. Your eyes as vacant as if you 
slept, yet I know, you have not rested. Whenever we mention Gandalf, 
you turn your eyes away" Aragorn paused, when he saw Legolas almost 
did it again, but controlled himself. "And now, if I even dare to say 
something of Boromir's demise, your expression becomes so tortured, I 
cannot help but wonder if your heart is fading with grief"

The last words were no more than a whisper, and they resounded like a 
shout in the elf's mind.

{Grief} {You're dying} {Like I deserve} {But you must not. For you 
must right all your wrongs} {'Tis impossible…} {You have caused 
everything, and you are thinking of leaving everything behind, for 
your friends to correct what you did wrong?}

"Do not speak of such things, my friend" Legolas said with a 
small…forced, smile. "I am not fading, grief has not…"

"Legolas just…please, speak with the truth for once!" Aragorn spoke 
loudly, and winced when he remembered the sleeping dwarf. 

But Gimli still slept, and he turned to the elf again. 

"You are not all right, you are more than merely saddened" his voice 
was quieter now, but the power of his words were not lost on the elf 
"Legolas, I remember what you told me when we passed the mines of 
Moria…"

Blue eyes turned away and Aragorn forced his chin up, to face him.

"You. Did. Not. Murder. Gandalf" Aragorn said fiercely. "You did 
nothing, that the rest of us did not"

{Yes you did, Legolas. You know you have} No words can compete with 
your own voice.

"Aragorn…" he sighed "I shall leave the quest if this is troubling you 
so…I knew I should have gone back in Lothlórien, but for a moment, it 
had seemed different. Not any more, though, my friend. You do not need 
to try and make me happy with a lie, or forgive me for my actions…" 
"Legolas, 'tis nothing but the truth…"

{'Tis not}

"It is not" his voice was as quiet as the wind, but his words were 
heard by the human "I heard the warning, and allowed Mithrandir to 
die, instead of me" he sighed "It was my time, and now, death has been 
after me…it took Boromir, and it will take the rest of you if I fail 
to go…Aragorn, 'tis my responsibility, I tried to make it right…" 
"Legolas, you are over two thousand years old" Aragorn stated sadly 
"You are wise, my friend, very wise. I know you cannot possibly 
believe this"

{I do not…} {But it is the truth} {Estel says 'tis not…} {Lies…all 
lies…} {He does not lie!} {He does not? He is perfect then?} {Honest, 
not perfect…} {So desperate are you to escape reality? You are willing 
to believe the words that speak what you wish to hear?} {Yes}

"I…I do not know, Estel" He finally whispered "it chases after me 
every second…every day, and it speaks in my own voice, it speaks…and 
it says so much, so many things…and they must be truth, for I hear 
them as clearly as I hear you speak"

Aragorn moved closer to his friend and spoke, seeing that the blasted 
mask was for once gone, as Legolas was speaking and emotion could be 
seen, clearly written on his features…for the first time since Aragorn 
could remember.

"What you hear is guilt, Legolas, guilt that you should not carry, for 
the shadows wished to take you, and you fought it, and it failed to 
bring you down. Legolas, you won that battle" "I did not fought…" "Yes 
you did, Legolas" Aragorn whispered harshly "You fought it, you fought 
the shadows, you fought the orcs and the goblins, and without you, we 
might have not escaped those darks realms"

"Maybe we should not have escaped…" Legolas whispered to himself, 
repeating the words being whispered into his thoughts.

"What?" Aragorn hissed, now grabbing the elf by he shoulders "How can 
you have said that?"

"We escaped, only to loose Boromir, to separate from Frodo and the 
gentle Sam, and to allow those other two little hobbits to be taken by 
a band of orcs!" Legolas exclaimed, once more endangering waking 
Gimli. 

But heavy was the sleep of dwarfs, and for that Aragorn had never been 
more thankful. 

"Gandalf, and Boromir, both have passed in glory, for they died 
fighting the darkness…and Legolas you are allowing it to consume you 
without a fight."

{You do not deserve glory}

"Of course you deserve glory, Legolas!"

Just then, did the elf realize that he was no longer speaking, for the 
words that escaped his mouth were the same, that those whispering in 
his mind.

"You are warrior, and such a wise, gentle spirit…you deserve 
everything"

{Of course you do not! You are nothing but a murderer, and the one to 
blame for slaughtering you all, one by one. What of the quest if the 
next is Estel? What then? What of the hobbits, and of the ring, if you 
go after Frodo after that?}

"What is this, Legolas?" Aragorn hissed, angry like he was speaking to 
Sauron himself. "For this is not my friend, not the elf I have known 
my whole life!"

{No, 'tis not. For with each one you murder, you have killed yourself}

"You are in there Legolas, and 'tis not you speaking"

{Who then?}

"Fight it, Legolas. Fight like you have done every single time you 
wish for something!"

{I wish for freedom}

{And you shall not have it, for you are not ready}

"Legolas, you are strong!"

{Weak}

"You know you can fight it"

{You shall never escape}

"Come back to me, my friend"

{You are a murderer}

"Fight"

{Sleep}

Blue eyes closed, and before Aragorn's eyes, Legolas shuddered 
visibly, before he sat still again.

When his gaze met his once more, the light in them was…just as he 
remembered it, and a smile escaped Legolas' lips, for the first time 
in long endless days.

"I thank you, Estel," His voice said softly, and Aragorn felt his face 
broke into a smile of his own. 

Legolas stood up from his seat, and nodded towards the horizon. "But 
now, we must continue"

As before Legolas was first afoot, if indeed he had ever slept. 
"Awake! Awake!" he cried. "It is a red dawn. Strange things await us 
by the eaves of the forest. Good or evil, I do not know; but we are 
called. Awake!"

And of that night's conversation that was all Gimli heard.

{You will see, little Prince. You shall see}

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
I adapted some lyrics from a group called "Lacrimosa" and a song 
called "The Turning Point" Just in case, not mine, I just changed it a 
little to fit in here. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

That night grew ever colder. Aragorn and Gimli slept fitfully, and 
whenever they awoke they saw Legolas standing beside them, or walking 
to and fro, singing softly to himself in his own tongue. Submerged too 
deep in exhaustion, both failed to notice what he sang.

Al lalaith erin nîn thîr - (No laughter on my face -) Uir galad 
andaithant am enni (Eternity's reflection marked upon me) And taen 
annen am* anim an i caeda (Too long sacrificed myself for the lie) An 
i caeda ned nîn cuil (For the lie of my life)

Be na-erui nedh nîn faeg yl* (As only in my nightmares) Im nîn garn 
coth (I am my own enemy)

Such a sad melody, as soft as the whisper of the winds, that would 
have caused whoever heard it to feel the sea of emotion that coursed 
through the singer. 

Depression, desperation, anger, self-loathing, regret…

No one was there to hear it, though.

{You shall see…}

And the whisper still haunted him, confusing him, as the words filled 
with sorrow escaped his immortal lips. 

Im caral peden ned nîn pân (I did not speak of my pain) Ha caral thia 
fair (It did not seem right) Im caral tirad i fuin telina (I did not 
see the darkness coming) Im car al cuinar i araid (I do not live the 
days)

...Ha thiai Im aníra gûr... (... it seems I desire death…)

Those whispered words were the last uttered on that silent night, as 
dawn slowly came; his companions woke and together they watched the 
dawn grow slowly in the sky, now bare and cloudless, until at last the 
sunrise came.

There was no confusing voice, on this day, it seemed. Aragorn and 
Gimli were silent beside him, watching the sky. Legolas, as usual, was 
wearing his mask and seemed to be appreciating this fine morning, when 
in truth desperation was taking a strong hold of his mind.

{What must I do now?} {I should…I…Estel should know what to do…}

Following with his keen eyes the trail to the river, and then the 
river back towards the forest, Aragorn saw a shadow on the distant 
green, a dark swift-moving blur. He cast himself upon the ground and 
listened again intently.

{Estel is feeling something…I should look}

And his elven sight focused on the small figures of many horsemen 
approaching. The spears they carried seemed to glow in the morning 
light, and the elf wished he were closer to them

{They could kill me before I said 'good morning'}

Far behind them a dark smoke rose in thin curling threads.

{Beautiful fire that could burn my skin, my body, free me from Middle 
earth…}

"Riders!" cried Aragorn, springing to his feet. "Many riders on swift 
steeds are coming towards us!"

{What am I thinking?}

"Yes," Legolas said softly, shaking himself off dark thoughts. 
Focusing on the vision before him "there are one hundred and five. 
Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is 
very tall."

Aragorn looked at his friend and smiled. "Keen are the eyes of the 
Elves," he said with a hint of amusement, and Legolas wanted nothing 
more than to grin at him and enjoy a short moment of teasing, like the 
old days. 

But his face would not smile anymore.

{I…I need answers…what is happening? Who are they? What should I do?} 
{You shall see, little prince} {Nay! Wait! Answer me!} {You wish for 
freedom}

"Nay! The riders are little more than five leagues distant," said 
Legolas dismissively, even as he screamed in agony inside.

{I wish to smile…} {You wish for freedom} {Answer me please! Why I 
cannot smile, anymore? Why can I not tease? Be…being me?} {You shall 
see…} {I need answers! The hobbits are…the hobbits!}

Focusing ahead, he sighed. "There are three empty saddles, but I see 
no hobbits" he announced sadly, interrupting Gimli and Aragorn. 

{Aragorn said we are to wait for the raiders…should I wait? Should I 
say something?}

"E…" {Estel}

The name died on his lips and he closed his mouth, sighing.

{I know not what to do…Aragorn is right, he knows better}

His mind was silent, and he began to despair.

{Too silent…} {Too much choices…} {Too much decisions of too much 
importance} {Too many dangers} {So many thoughts, I cannot even grasp 
them all…images of the millenniums I've seen, dance too fast before my 
very eyes…where is the control I had over my own mind?!}

Present and past images mixed and his eyes went unfocused and focused 
from one blink to the next, struggling to grasp the conversation 
between Aragorn and Gimli, Legolas heard but words.

"…Riders of Rohan"

"Not…orcs…"

"Gandalf"

{Nay…}

"Pay tribute…"

"Mordor"

"Boromir"

{Nay…Boromir went sailing, did he not? He went on board of this elven 
boat? …Aye, I remember, I have not found the little ones, they have 
sure hidden far now…we have been looking for days…they are indeed good 
at hiding…nay…wait…Estel? That is not right, is it? The hobbits are 
not hiding, are they?}

Focusing on the approaching figures, Legolas spoke to himself. 

"You will soon learn the truth"

And was surprised when Aragorn and Gimli seemed to quite at his words. 

{Have I spoken?}

The riders were closer, much closer, and the shouts they gave and the 
sound of their horses could not be missed by the deafer of men. The 
images they presented filled Legolas with grief, for their stance 
reminded him too much of a Mirkwood raiding party, the ones he 
sometimes joined to patrol the border area, but this group was much 
larger, and he could not discern his friends between them, their 
features were human. The horses much different, and they were much 
louder. 

And this place was not Mirkwood.

{For some reason, I do not feel sad for the fact that I do not have to 
return to Mirkwood…yet}

He was shocked to feel dread at the thought of his home.

{I must return to Mirkwood when this is over…'tis my home…}

He almost broke his mask

{Why am I afraid?} His inner voice sounded as broken as he felt.

They were almost upon them now. Tall, proud horses rode by proud and 
keen looking men. In the rider's hands there were tall spears of ash, 
painted shields were slung at their backs, long swords were at their 
belts, their burnished skirts of mail hung down upon their knees. 

They appeared not to perceive the three strangers sitting silently and 
watching them. 

{They won't notice us. That is good, is it not? Estel? Is it not good 
that these strange folk do not notice us? These people that look so 
much like elves…is it not good?}

The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called 
in a loud voice:

"What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?"

{Estel! Nay! Why did you did that?}

A thicket of spears were pointed towards the strangers, as they were 
surrounded in a moving circle of horsemen; and some of them had bows 
in hand, and their arrows were already fitted to the string. Then one 
rode forward, a tall man, taller than all the rest; from his helm as a 
crest a white horsetail flowed.

He moved to threaten Aragorn, but the ranger did not flinch.

{Estel, tell the men to leave} {Please?} {Estel? Let us continue…these 
men remind me of home…I wish not to return home…} {…Aragorn…don't 
speak with them…Aragorn…please, let them leave?}

Words were being spoken, yet Legolas heard them not.

{Why can I not focus? They speak and I cannot listen! They move and I 
do not see clearly…where is my self-control…by Elbereth I need help…so 
much help…}

He snapped back into focus when he noticed that the proud man seemed 
to be threatening Gimli, and he moved quickly.

"He stands not alone," said Legolas, bending his bow and fitting an 
arrow with hands that moved quicker than sight. "You would die before 
your stroke fell."

Aragorn interceded and Legolas saw it wise to step back. With a lat 
glance at Gimli, who was sending him a grateful look, Legolas focused 
on his inner struggle while conversation happened around him.

{Gandalf…Boromir…why do their faces haunt me still…dead…I am immortal, 
are they not? …Not…aye not they are not…of course not…mortals…Boromir 
went to sail and Gandalf…Gandalf…so dark…Frodo! Sam! You can come out 
now! Merry, Pippin! I tire of playing…hello?}

{Where…what…I WISH FOR ANSWERS!}

{You wished for freedom} Silky whispers of a cold voice…his voice, 
returning into the abyss.

{Nay…nay not any longer…no freedom…can I be normal again? Think 
straight? Please?}

{No more freedom? Fighting for control? …What of that, little prince?}

{Nay, no more fighting…not ready…}

{That's right}

{Not ready…have to stay inside…}

{Yes, you do. Very good princeling, very good indeed…}

{So dark inside…}

{No more fighting}

{No more fighting…inside…not ready…Estel?}

{Look at him princeling; does he not seem better than you?}

Legolas looked, and he stared, for he had not seen him in this mood 
before. He seemed to have grown in stature while Éomer had shrunk; and 
in his living face he caught a brief vision of the power and majesty 
of the kings of stone. For a moment it seemed to the eyes of Legolas 
that a white flame flickered on the brows of Aragorn like a shining 
crown.

Despair…desperation…

{Much more than me…he is my friend…} {He cannot be worried for one elf 
when the fate of hundreds of men lies in his hands. Can he, little 
prince?} {Nay…Estel?}

{Nay, no more, princeling, no more hope}

And Aragorn with Éomer talked on, only few words entering Legolas' 
confused mind.

"…Slain and burned among the Orcs…"

{Periannath?} (Hobbits?)

"It is hard to be sure of anything among so many marvels…"

{I am sure I wish for death} {You are?}

"…Against our law…"

{Yes}

"Nor indeed am I a stranger…"

{I am a stranger inside myself}

{Are you certain, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood?}

"Do not fail."

"I will not"

{I will indeed fail…and for that, aye, I am certain}

{Very well}

Focusing finally on what went on around him, Legolas paid attention, 
and missed the attention being paid to him.

"Come, you shall sit behind me, friend Gimli," said Legolas…or was it 
Legolas…Aragorn was afraid of the answer as he observed his friend. 
"Then all will be well, and you need neither borrow a horse nor be 
troubled by one."

And the weight of the quest…was nothing next to the huge weight 
suddenly placed upon an elven heart.

A smaller and lighter horse, but restive and fiery, was brought to 
Legolas. Arod was his name. But Legolas asked them to take off saddle 
and rein. "I need them not," he said, and leaped lightly up, and to 
their wonder Arod was tame and willing beneath him, moving here and 
there with but a spoken word: such was the elvish way with all good 
beasts. Gimli was lifted up behind his friend. And he clung to him, 
not much more at ease than Sam Gamgee in a boat.

Aragorn observed as Legolas petted the animal, fighting to ignore the 
new weight inside him.

{So this, is how grief feels like…}

"Cut no living wood!" Aragorn warned, looking around uneasily. 

"There is no need," said Gimli, also looking around. "The Riders have 
left chip and bough enough, and there is dead wood lying in plenty." 
He went off to gather fuel, and busied himself with building and 
kindling a fire; but Aragorn sat silent with his back to the great 
tree, deep in thought; and Legolas stood alone in the open, looking 
towards the profound shadow of the wood, leaning forward, as one who 
listens to voices calling from a distance.

{Approaching…something approaches…} {What do you feel?} 
{Uneasiness…fear…and…excitement} {Good or evil, do you think?} {I know 
not…it confuses me…} {What does not?} {The fact that I am dying} {Who 
says you are?} {Grief speaks loudly} {Grief always does. You are only 
listening to it…} {But I can feel…} {It is not grief, princeling. Do 
you honestly believe you are to die before all is fixed? Grief has not 
touched you…and probably never will} {Nay, I feel this weight…} {Grief 
is the murderer…guilt is what the murderer feels} {What…} {Have you so 
soon forgotten your victims?} {Nay, victims they were not. Aragorn 
explained clearly…} {You do remember your thoughts?} {Estel…} {Was 
telling lies to relieve the guilt. He needs your hearing and sight on 
this quest. He does not need you} {Estel is my friend…} {And is much 
more than you are…} {He…aye, he is} {King where you are prince, strong 
where you are weak, confident where you are insecure…} {Something 
approaches…}

Gimli had lit fire, and Legolas sat close to it, amazed that he felt 
the need to touch it.

{Burning fire…}

Shaking his head, Legolas looked up, to try and view the stars, when 
he noticed the tree above their heads. With effort, he focused his 
thoughts on it, and sighed when again he could not smile. "Look!" he 
said. "The tree is glad of the fire!"

His companions looked at it and smiled.

{If not grief, why I cannot smile?} {Because you do not deserve it} 
{…This tree is lonely in this land…} {Mirkwood trees are never 
lonely…} {Do not speak of home} {Why must I not? afraid, are you? To 
go back and face your family?} {Nay…I…} {You are afraid of your own 
home…} {Nay! I can face…} {The why can you not speak of it?} {I can…} 
{I do not believe it…}

"Celeborn warned us not to go far into Fangorn," Legolas said, 
breaking the silence and interrupting his thoughts. "Do you know why, 
Aragorn? What are the fables of the forest that Boromir had heard?"

{Boromir…} {Your second victim}

"I have heard many tales in Gondor and elsewhere," Aragorn answered, 

{Why does he answer me? …I am not worthy…} {For pity}

"But if it were not for the words of Celeborn I should deem them only 
fables that Men have made as true knowledge fades. I had thought of 
asking you what was the truth of the matter. And if an Elf of the Wood 
does not know, how shall a Man answer?"

{Stupid Wood elf…much better man}

"You have journeyed further than I," said Legolas softly, as if asking 
for forgiveness and Aragorn frowned a little at his tone. "I have 
heard nothing of this in my own land, save only songs that tell how 
the Onodrim, that Men call Ents, dwelt there long ago; for Fangorn is 
old, old even as the Elves would reckon it."

"Yes, it is old," Aragorn, said gently, thinking that maybe he had 
somehow accused the elf with his earlier tone "as old as the forest by 
the Barrow-downs, and it is far greater. Elrond says that the two are 
akin, the last strongholds of the mighty woods of the Elder Days, in 
which the Firstborn roamed while Men still slept. Yet Fangorn holds 
some secret of its own. What it is I do not know."

Remembering his foster father's stories, the ranger almost smiled, 
when the dwarf's voice interrupted his memories. 

"And I do not wish to know," said Gimli. "Let nothing that dwells in 
Fangorn be troubled on my account!"

Legolas did not bother in listening to them anymore. When it was 
decided that Gimli was to take first watch, he lay down and made an 
enormous effort to sink into the dream world…hoping that he would not 
resurface, for exhaustion had somehow cached him.

Images of weakness and whispers of the past, made this night anything 
but restful.

When Gimli suddenly moved, Legolas' eyes cleared and he sat up, 
confused.

He saw Aragorn offering something to someone he no longer saw.

The other thing that no longer saw made him cry out. "The horses! The 
horses!"

While they stared around in silence, Legolas caught Aragorn's gaze. He 
seemed angered… {At you} {Why?} {You should have heard…} {I…I slept} 
{And you failed him again…}

When Aragorn gave him a concerned look, he realized his face was 
probably showing his emotions, for he had not shielded himself from 
them. Estel was saying something else, but the elf could see he was 
about to say something to him, when Gimli spoke.

"Feet!" said Gimli. "But we cannot eat them as well as walk on them " 
He threw some fuel on the fire and slumped down beside it. 

Forcing his mask on, and taking the chance presented, Legolas laughed. 

Fake smile, hollow laugh.

And Aragorn noticed.

"Only a few hours ago you were unwilling to sit on a horse of Rohan," 
laughed Legolas. "You will make a rider yet."

More conversation passed; Legolas barely heard. Worried that Aragorn 
had caught his trick. But the ranger said nothing, and he relaxed once 
more, listening to the new set of watches they were to have.

The night passed slowly. Legolas followed Aragorn, and Gimli followed 
Legolas, and their watches wore away. But nothing happened. The old 
man did not appear again, and the horses did not return.

****

He had some meaningless conversation with Gimli, and was surprised 
when the dwarf did not notice he barely knew what he was saying, so 
focused was him in trying not to disappoint anyone again.

{I should have heard…} {Yes, you should have} {I heard only the 
horses} {Estel is talking to you, little prince, and better focus on 
his words}

"Legolas? Did they sound to you like beasts in terror?" "No," said 
Legolas, thrilled to have an answer. "I heard them clearly. But for 
the darkness and our own fear I should have guessed that they were 
beasts wild with some sudden gladness. They spoke as horses will when 
they meet a friend that they have long missed."

"So I thought," said Aragorn; "but I cannot read the riddle, unless 
they return. Come! The light is growing fast. Let us look first and 
guess later! We should begin here…" the rest was muffled by his mind 
as Legolas almost managed a real smile.

{I did not disappoint Estel…} {For once, you did not}

They started looking around the ground, and Legolas did the same, not 
very sure of what they looked for. He reacted only when Aragorn called 
them closer, and he observed what he held in his hand.

"Here at last we find news!" said Aragorn. He lifted up a broken the 
leaf for them to see "Here is a mallorn-leaf of Lórien, and there are 
small crumbs on it, and a few more crumbs in the grass. And see! There 
are some pieces of cut cord lying nearby!"

{What is this?} {What does this mean?} {Orcs?}

"And here is the knife that cut them!" said Gimli. He stooped and drew 
out of a tussock, into which some heavy foot had trampled it, a short 
jagged blade. The haft from which it had been snapped was beside it. 
"It was an orc-weapon," he said, holding it gingerly, and looking with 
disgust at the carved handle.

{So horrible…what is it?} {Orcs, princeling, you know that…} 
{Hobbits…i periannath!} (The hobbits!} {Are you certain?} {They…they 
have to be, they have to be alive…of course they are, they left a 
clue! See? I knew they were hiding Estel! How did they get so far, do 
you know?} {Nay, little prince, why the cord then?} {I…think…}

Frustration and confusion building up for days, finally exploding 
beyond any mask he could have built. 

"Well, here is the strangest riddle that we have yet found!" exclaimed 
Legolas. "A bound prisoner escapes both from the Orcs and from the 
surrounding horsemen. He then stops, while still in the open, and cuts 
his bonds with an orc-knife. But how and why? For if his legs were 
tied, how did he walk? And if his arms were tied, how did he use the 
knife? And if neither were tied, why did he cut the cords at all? 
Being pleased with his skill, he then sat down and quietly ate some 
waybread! That at least is enough to show that he was a hobbit, 
without the mallorn-leaf. After that, I suppose, he turned his arms 
into wings and flew away singing into the trees. It should be easy to 
find him: we only need wings ourselves!"

The sarcastic tone in his voice, surprised even him, and Aragorn 
looked at him with concern. Legolas looked away and stared at the 
mallorn-leaf instead.

"What have you to say, Aragorn, to the reading of Legolas. Can you 
better it?" Gimli said and the ranger looked his way.

"Maybe, I could," said Aragorn, smiling, trying to make it light. 
Worried, beyond his words, for he had seen his mask being replaced 
just after the elf spoke. "There are some other signs near at hand 
that you have not considered…"

Aragorn spoke, and Legolas did not listen. 

{Why I cannot hear well anymore? Why must I struggle to even see 
straight, now? Not grief, I am told…then what?}

{Guilt}

{I will have only more guilt if I fail them once more, and these 
limitations shall make me fail}

{You were failing well before this, little Prince}

Aragorn and Gimli moved closer to Fangorn and Legolas followed, 
silently. He heard the song of the words and found it not to be evil 
as the tales went.

Talking quietly with Gimli, he looked at the sad trees with longing.

"It is old, very old," said the Elf. "So old that almost I feel young 
again, as I have not felt since I journeyed with you children." 
Legolas saw Aragorn smile at that, and he wanted to join him…but could 
not. "It is old and full of memory. I could have been happy here, if I 
had come in days of peace."

{Had I come when I was still sane…}

"I dare say you could," snorted Gimli. "You are a Wood-elf, anyway, 
though Elves of any kind are strange folk. Yet you comfort me. Where 
you go, I will go…"

{Not a good model to follow, dear friend}

They came at length to the steep abrupt end of Treebeard's Hill and 
looked up at the rock-wall with its rough steps leading to the high 
shelf. Gleams of sun were striking through the hurrying clouds, and 
the forest now looked less grey and drear.

{Suffocating forest…beautiful forest that will kill me} {Not yet, 
princeling}

"Let us go up and look about us!" said Legolas, angry inside when he 
knew he had not thought those words, but were still being spoken by 
him. "I will feel my breath short. I should like to taste a freer air 
for a while."

They climbed and Legolas looked around, answering when spoken to, and 
unknowingly voicing his thoughts. "Yet here we are-and nicely caught 
in the net," said Legolas. "Look!"

{I feel dread…anticipation… who is it that draws closer?}

"Look at what?" said Gimli. "There in the trees." "Where? I have not 
elf-eyes." "Hush! Speak more softly! Look!" said Legolas pointing. 
"Down in the wood, back in the Way that we have just come. It is he. 
Cannot you see him, passing from tree to tree?" "I see, I see now!" 
hissed Gimli. "Look, Aragorn! Did I not warn you? There is the old 
man. All in dirty grey rags: that is why I could not see him at 
first."

{My heart is speeding, what is this?} {You shall see} {Nay! Not 
again!} {Just wait little prince} {Nay…who is it?} {Just wait}

At that moment the old man quickened his pace and came with surprising 
speed to the foot of the rock-wall. Then suddenly he looked up, while 
they stood motionless looking down. There was no sound.

{Who…who…please…I need answers…}

They could not see his face: he was hooded, and above the hood he wore 
a wide-brimmed hat, so that all his features were over-shadowed, 
except for the end of his nose and his grey beard. Yet it seemed to 
Aragorn that he caught the gleam of eyes keen and bright from within 
the shadow of the hooded brows. At last the old man broke the silence. 
"Well met indeed, my friends," he said in a soft voice.

And Legolas froze.

"Well met indeed, my friends," he said in a soft voice. "I wish to 
speak to you. Will you come down or shall I come up?" Without waiting 
for an answer he began to climb.

The elf with wide blue eyes stared at the old man, without moving a 
muscle. Apparently frozen on the spot.

"Now!" said Gimli. "Stop him, Legolas"

{Cannot…this is…who is…my bow?}

"Did I not say that I wished to speak to you?" said the old man. "Put 
away that bow, Master Elf!"

{Nay…why did I dropped my weapons…I need them…defense…I must defend 
them…old man…who is…what is happening?}

The man seemed to look at him for a moment, but Legolas could not see 
his eyes, shadowed by his hood, as they were. The ancient gaze, 
however, seemed to burn a hole right through him, burning him, making 
him dizzy…holding him still.

{Answers…please…answers…I will not fight, I will not…just…why am I 
alone, again?}

"And you, Master Dwarf, pray take your hand from your axe-haft, till I 
am up! You will not need such arguments."

Gimli started and then stood still as stone, close to Legolas. The elf 
barely noticed; his whole being focused on the form of the man in 
front them. His heart was speeding, his breathing was silent, yet too 
fast for an elf, and his every muscle seemed made of stone. He looked 
like a marble statue, touched barely by some inner light of his own, 
which was being shadowed by a larger form, looming over his frame.

It was an invisible form over him and it was drowning him. Yet the old 
man saw this, knowing more than the three friends in front of him, he 
knew there was even closer danger than the ones they awaited to face.

"Well met, I say again!" said the old man, coming towards them. When 
he was a few feet away, he stood, stooping over his staff, with his 
head thrust forward, peering at them from under his hood. "And what 
may you be doing in these parts? An Elf, a Man, and a Dwarf, all clad 
in elvish fashion. No doubt there is a tale worth hearing behind it 
all. Such things are not often seen here." His knowing gaze traveled 
into each of the faces before him, resting finally on Aragorn, when he 
spoke.

But Legolas heard nothing, his mind whirling while his body stood 
frozen.

{Answers} {Murderer} {Correct all your wrongs} {Boromir son of 
Denethor} {A threat in the wind} {Voice of the rings} {The pull of 
need} {The pull of power} {The ambition} {The necessity} {Whatever is 
the matter?} {Fire} {The gate} {Is coming} {Fly, you fools!} {Ai! Ai!} 
{A Balrog! A Balrog is come!} {You cannot pass} {Elendil! Gondor!} 
{Fly! Run! Must get out, must leave, a Balrog, fire, fire} {Anno i 
cunn, anno i cunn, anno i cunn, anno i cunn} (Give the prince) {i 
beleg pen} (The great one) {Anno i beleg pen, anno i callon, ae al i 
talt cunn} (Give the great one, give the hero, if not the insecure 
prince)

"Well, well, maybe I can give you some news about that. But why are we 
standing? Your errand, you see, is no longer as urgent as you thought. 
Let us sit down and be more at ease." The old man was saying, when 
focus returned into Legolas. He suddenly could move again while the 
ancient one sat down in low flat stone.

{Well, well} {What is this?} {Cannot be} {Not possible} {Elbereth…not 
possible…} {Anno i beleg pen} (Give the great one)

With a shout in the midst of his internal struggle, Legolas aimed and 
shot an arrow to the sky, with all his ability, willing his body to do 
something that he was capable of controlling. The arrow flew high into 
the air, vanishing in a flash of flame.

{Flame…} {A Balrog has come!}

"Mithrandir!" He cried, unbelieving voice, face a mask of unhidden 
shock and hidden fear "Mithrandir!"

"Well met, I say to you again. Legolas!" said the old man gently, 
seeing the obvious, as well as the hidden. Having seen on previous 
nights the effect that circumstances had had on the young elf.

Legolas, as well as the other stared openly at him. . Between wonder, 
joy, and fear they stood and found no words to say.

At last Aragorn stirred, his eyes shinning, his heart light as the 
shadow of the doubt finally left him.

Legolas did nothing the others did not. Now the ranger could be 
certain of it.

"Gandalf!" he said. "Beyond all hope you return to us in our need! 
What veil was over my sight? Gandalf!" Gimli said nothing, hut sank to 
his knees, shading his eyes.

"Gandalf," the old man repeated, as if recalling from old memory a 
long disused word. "Yes, that was the name. I was Gandalf."

"Yes, you may still call me Gandalf," he said, and the voice was the 
voice of their old friend and guide. "Get up, my good Gimli! No blame 
to you, and no harm done to me." Grey eyes turned to the blond elf, 
yet his gaze went unnoticed.

{Fly, you fools!} {Gone} {Returned} {Not the same} {Never the same} 
{Who is he?}

{What is this?}

"Indeed my friends, none of you have any weapon that could hurt me. Be 
merry! We meet again. At the turn of the tide. The great storm is 
coming, but the tide has turned."

{Meet again, after mortals have died and immortals have surrounded} 
{Mithrandir …estel gwannant taen io, henia, dae ned nîn muin meldir, 
ha car al cuinar ab gûr} (Gandalf… hope died long ago, understand, 
shadow of my dear friend, it does not live after death)

Past scenes flashed behind closed eyes as the words being spoken 
sounded blurred to him, and his body began working, once more, on its 
own accord.

**** 'Mithrandir fern' (Mithrandir is dead) Legolas managed to say, 
before his voice failed him and his tears fell faster. 

Haldir placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, whispering softly 'Ha 
thiai be caeda' (it seems like a lie). Legolas merely nodded

****

{It was a lie} {Liar} {Suffering} {Grief} {All false}

**** In darkness so intense, it drowned; he could discern a shape 
moving. He could see a shape fighting another figure…a much larger 
figure. And then he saw the shape take form, and the darkness part to 
let it shine through.

Mithrandir dressed in white stood there, smiling at him.

****

"Yes, I am white now," said Gandalf now, turning to look at Legolas 
for a fleeting moment…the elf felt…cornered…by that intense gaze 
"Indeed I…" 

{Murderer} {Right all your wrongs} {You murdered Mithrandir} {Never 
the same}

{Back from the darkness, returned from mortal death…never the same}

"The eagle!" Legolas heard himself saying, as he stared to the many 
images in his mind. "I have seen an eagle high and far off: the last 
time was three days ago, above the Emyn Muil." Legolas focused once 
more, when he saw Gandalf staring at him strangely, as if he noticed 
that Legolas had not spoken, even as he answered his words. "Yes," 
said Gandalf, "that was Gwaihir the Windlord, who rescued me from 
Orthanc. I sent him before me to watch the River and gather tidings. 
His sight is keen, but he cannot see all that passes under hill and 
tree. Some things he has seen, and others I have seen myself."

When ancient eyes searched the old blue ones that betrayed a youthful 
face, he found not his friend in there. But only a blank stare met 
his. 

"Not alone," said Legolas, interrupting Gandalf. "We think that Sam 
went with him." And this time, Aragorn turned to face his friend, for 
his voice sounded hollow, once more. 

"Did he!" said Gandalf, and there was a gleam in his eye and a smile 
on his face, even as he looked into endless pools of iced grief. "Did 
he indeed? It is news to me, yet it does not surprise me. Good! Very 
good! You lighten my heart. You must tell me more. Now sit by me and 
tell me the tale of your journey."

The companions sat on the ground at his feet, and Aragorn took up the 
tale. For a long while Gandalf said nothing, and he asked no 
questions. His hands were spread upon his knees, and his eyes were 
closed.

{Right all your wrongs} His elven voice rang clear in the midst of 
confusion.

{What wrongs?} Another voice suddenly came, and asked with a strong 
will that he no longer possessed.

{Death... upon you} His voice said, speaking on its own, for those 
were not his thoughts. 

{How can it be? Immortal beings do not fear death, nor does death 
chases after them, for Eru did not planned it this way} 

{Who speaks…?} His voice said again, but this was him, voice weaker, 
tired…almost lost.

{The truth. The one you need to hear} {Who speaks? Aragorn?} {Trusts 
you, is worried for you} {Gimli?} {Searches for your friendship} 
{Father?} {Is proud of his son, more than ever before} {Boromir?} 
{Thought of you as his brother in arms} {…Mithrandir?} {Lives}

{Pretty Lies} {Is all you've heard since Moria, my young friend} 
Mithrandir's voice kept whispering kept fighting with his own 
voice…the voice he had fighting until he could no more.

Struggling to escape it, his eyes focused, and he ignored confused 
lines of thought. 

"You have not said all that you know or guess, Aragorn my friend," he 
said quietly, giving the man a knowing look; that Legolas noticed 
uneasily. "Poor Boromir! I could not see what happened to him. It was 
a sore trial for such a man: a warrior, and a lord of men…"

{Poor Boromir, indeed, killed by his 'brother in arms'}

{Nay, young elf. Killed by dangers beyond anyone's control. Or do you 
believe yourself of such power?}

{I believe myself of such destruction}

"…And he does not know of the quarrel between his servants and the 
Orcs of Mordor; nor does he know of the Winged Messenger."

"The Winged Messenger!" cried Legolas suddenly, wide eyes once again 
focused. "I shot at him with the bow of Galadriel above Sarn Gebir, 
and I felled him from the sky. He filled us all with fear. What new 
terror is this?"

"One that you cannot slay with arrows," said Gandalf in a gentle tone. 
"You only slew his steed. It was a good deed;" he gave him a small 
smile and Legolas turned away from it, feeling unworthy of seeing his 
friend smile once more "…but the Rider was soon horsed again. For he 
was a Nazgûl, one of the Nine, who ride now upon winged steeds…"

{Not even archery can protect you, now, and what else can you do, 
little prince?} {He can save his friends} {Oh, can he, now? How, if he 
cannot help himself?} {Legolas can fight, as he was…} {…And no longer 
is, and no longer will}

{Speaks who? Who is so sure of it … that has been torturing me?}

{Yourself} {The shadow}

{Fight…it sounds like too much}

{For you} {'Tis not you}

{Mithrandir returns from a battle I did not fought to fight with me on 
a battle mine alone}

{Weak} {Not alone yours, you have made it so}

{Boromir…Boromir and Mithrandir and the...}

"But the hobbits!" Legolas broke in. "We have come far to seek them, 
and you seem to know where they are. Where are they now?"

"With Treebeard and the Ents," said Gandalf, still looking at the elf.

{Failed them} {Could do nothing more, young elf. What else, other than 
your best?} {Everything I had} {And fade yourself?} {Aye}

"…I thought they were only a memory of ancient days, if indeed they 
were ever more than a legend of Rohan." Aragorn was saying and Legolas 
startled back into the present.

"A legend of Rohan!" cried Legolas. "Nay, every Elf in Wilderland has 
sung songs of the old Onodrim and their long sorrow. Yet even among us 
they are only a memory. If I were to meet one still walking in this 
world, then indeed I should feel young again! But Treebeard: that is 
only a rendering of Fangorn into the Common Speech; yet you seem to 
speak of a person. Who is this Treebeard?"

{Who is this Treebeard?} {Where are the hobbits?} {Where did you go 
Mithrandir?} {Why am I the only one who heard Moria speak?} {Are you 
really my friend? Are you really back?}

{Never the same}

{Are you never going to be the same?}

"Ah! Now you are asking much," said Gandalf to him, and Legolas 
startled, looked into his eyes. "The little that I know of his long 
slow story would make a tale for which we have no time now. Treebeard 
is Fangorn, the guardian of the forest; he is the oldest of the Ents, 
the oldest living thing that still walks beneath the Sun upon this 
Middle-earth. I hope indeed, Legolas, that you may yet meet him…"

{Anything to make the shadow leave you, young elf}

{Shadow?}

"…A thing is about to happen which has not happened since the Elder 
Days: the Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong." 
"What will they do?" asked Legolas in astonishment. "I do not know," 
said Gandalf. "I do not think they know themselves. I wonder."

{Failure}

And Legolas fought, but with strength weakened by shock and weariness 
of earlier inner battles, he soon felt himself falling, and 
falling…'till something outside called his attention, and he regained 
sudden control.

"Then are we not to see the merry young hobbits again?" said Legolas, 
saddened beyond words at the mere thought of such a failure. "I did 
not say so," Gandalf calmly. "Who knows? Have patience. Go where you 
must go, and hope! To Edoras! I go thither also." 

{Where must I go?} {Back to Moria} {How is that, if my friend has 
returned?} {Has he?} {He stands before my very…} {Does he?}

"To Legolas she sent this word:

Legolas Greenleaf long under tree In joy thou hast 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."

{You are doomed} {You are dead} {You are useless, now} {You are to 
die} {Death has not given up on you} {In Mandos Halls the Valar shall 
wait for you, for punishment you shall receive}

{I wish to…to…}

{To die, for you wish has already been made}

"Then she sent me no message?" said Gimli and bent his head. "Dark are 
her words," said Legolas, "and little do they mean to those that 
receive them."

{Little more than confirm night terrors}

"That is no comfort," said Gimli.

"What then?" said Legolas "Would you have her speak openly to you of 
your death?"

{You would, little prince} {Nay! I…} {…You would have her speak of it, 
for your wish shall be granted. Death shall come}

And somehow, the idea did not sound as appealing as it did, once 
before. But it sounded much closer. 

"I see a great smoke," said Legolas. "What may that be?"

{Your own mind}

"Battle and war!" said Gandalf. "Ride on!"

And with those words, the company galloped towards the Gap of Rohan. 
They rode on through sunset, and slow dusk, and gathering night. When 
at last they halted and dismounted, even Aragorn was stiff and weary. 
Only a little time of rest was allowed, and the dwarf was quick to 
enjoy it fully, stretching on the floor and sleeping soundly, Aragorn 
lay down, looking up at the sky, and Legolas lay on his blankets, 
looking asleep to everyone.

But he was not.

{Mithrandir is watching over us} {He will kill you all, for he is not 
Gandalf. Do you honestly believe your dear friend shall rise from 
death to redeem you of the guilt?} {Why should I distrust? I am so 
tired of having to fight for everything…so tired…} {Then sleep, little 
Prince. Sleep, you shall be fine, and you shall rest} {Sleep? I have 
not done so in years, it seems} {And here is your chance} {Dangers…} 
{Sleep, Legolas, go to sleep} {I should not…}

Gandalf stood, leaning on his staff, gazing into the darkness, east 
and west. Then sharp eyes focused on his companions, resting finally 
on the seemingly resting form of the elf.

"Rest would do all of us good; yet, if sleep is not your friend on 
this night, then rise, dear Legolas, and see the moon you love" He 
whispered gently, startling the fair one, and making him turn to face 
the powerful Istari. 

{So tired…} {Sleep}

The elf glanced at his friend's face, and nodded mutely, standing from 
his position on the ground and glancing at the sky. His eyes going 
focused and unfocused as he looked into the beautiful night.

{Losta} (Sleep) {Rest} {Forget everything} {Just relax} {Nothing is 
going to happen} {Merely a little rest}

"Mithrandir?" His whisper broke the silence suddenly, and Gandalf 
turned to face him. "Who are you?" 

The wizard did not look surprised at the question, glancing around and 
spotting no living thing, he walked closer to the younger elf, and 
touched his shoulder. "I am Gandalf the Grey, now white," he said with 
a small smile "I am still your friend, that has gone through some 
serious trials, and has come out victorious. I am more powerful than I 
was. Power changes us all, Legolas. And to me, it did this" He 
signaled himself, and sat down in the ground. "Yet, I sense, you ask 
beyond your words, Prince of Mirkwood" The elf sat next to him and did 
nothing but stare blankly at him for some silent moments. 

'Im pedo atahan nîn pith pân i annan´(I speak beyond my words all the 
time)

{When I speak}

'Man car lye pedo ned si?' (What do you speak of now?)

{Of death}

'Ned lya' (Of you) Legolas whispered, not looking at Gandalf 'Lya thia 
delu, si. Al be Mithrandir carant' (You seem dangerous, now. Not like 
Mithrandir did)

{Not like the friend you murdered ever did}

'Ae Im lothron pedon hen, neth cunn' (If I may say this, young Prince) 
'Im thia fair, si…a o an breitho' (You seem mortal, now…and about to 
break)

{I am} {You are} {But how did he know?}

Surprised eyes turned to his, and his controlled emotions almost 
slipped…but they remained inside. 'Lya lothron' (You may) He answered 
finally, in a defeated voice. 'Im ingon lya ad' (I suppose you are 
back) He said softly, and Gandalf nodded his head, watching him with 
concern. 'An maer?' (For good?) Another nod.

Legolas then looked at him, and Mithrandir almost gasped out loud at 
the uncontrolled emotions suddenly free in those blue pools.

"All right Mithrandir." He said softly "When is Boromir going to be 
back? Is it soon? I am beginning to miss his company"

Ancient eyes softened and the old man moved closer to the elf, forcing 
him to look him in the eyes. "You know the answer to that, Legolas. Do 
not hide, in your mind"

"Is it soon?" "Legolas…" "He was teaching swordplay to Merry and to 
Pippin. The two little ones were doing very good; he said to me…you 
remember do you not? Those merry hobbits are great company for such a 
dark journey; I wonder where did they run off to, now? Did Boromir go 
with them? I believe you were with them…" "Prince Legolas, you already 
have all the answers to those questions, and they are hard to face, 
young one. But they are important ones, you must recall them, so that 
we may continue on this journey to save this land" Unfocused eyes went 
wide. "You are right Mithrandir" Legolas whispered, surprised. "How 
could I have forgotten?" "'Tis all right, Legolas, this is a hard 
journey to all involved. You are carrying extra weight, in this 
travel" The elf did not seem to hear his words "I have still not found 
the little ones! Frodo and Sam are incredible, I have not seen any 
sign of their presence…Pippin and Merry are great as well, but the 
trace they leave is like an orc trail…Pippin even dropped his Lórien 
leaf! Poor hobbit. Aragorn kept it, so we can give it back to him when 
we find his hiding place" He seemed to look around, as if waiting for 
the hobbits to giggle around some tree "Boromir has still not 
returned, I hope he has not gotten lost, for we have traveled a long 
way from the river on which he sails…I wonder if he has seen the 
hobbits…"

"Legolas!" Another voice interrupted the elf's speech and Gandalf's 
worried observation of the prince. "Come here, my friend" With 
graceful movement, Legolas moved to where he was being called to, and 
sat on the ground next to Aragorn. "Yes, Estel?" he said softly, 
looking into brown eyes with unfocused blue ones. "Tell me something, 
Legolas," the man whispered gently "Do you know where we are?" The 
prince frowned, and nodded. "Of course I know, Estel. Why do you ask 
that?" "Could you please tell me, Legolas?" His voice was gentle, and 
Mithrandir watched quietly, waiting for an answer from the elf. "What 
is this, Aragorn?" "Please, Legolas" "We are in…in Moria? Nay wait, 
'tis not Moria…it is dark though…Parth Galen…were we not there…Nay, 
nay, we traveled…" Wide eyes turned to Aragorn as the human sat up on 
the ground. "Where are we, Estel?"

Aragorn looked into dull eyes for the light of his friend, as he had 
done the other night.

And turned to face Gandalf in fear when he did not found it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Lyrics are from the unbelievably good song "And then there was 
silence" By Blind Guardian. Wish it were mine!! But 'tis not, 
so…*sigh* 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

{I am scared} {Poor little Prince} {This is not my mind} {Aye, it is} 
{The light's gone away} {That was a very long time ago. That you hide 
from reality does not make it go away} {I still had life, I still had 
hope} {And now, you have nothing. You wished for nothing, you wished 
for death, and it shall be granted…piece by piece}

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice seemed a little louder than necessary, yet 
the elf in front of him did not even flinch…and neither did the 
sleeping dwarf.

"Where are we, Estel?" His soft voice said softly, his eyes watching 
the man's every move. But the blue orbs were still unfocused. "Where 
are we?"

"Legolas Greenleaf" Gandalf called softly, and with a confused frown, 
the elf's face turned to face him. "You know where we are, as you well 
as you know your own name. You know what has happened, and you also 
know, that this is not the time to hide. Come prince of Mirkwood, 
fight this"

{Losta} (Sleep)

"Fight what, Mithrandir? Are there orcs around?" "Legolas, come out, 
'tis not you who speaks" Mithrandir commanded, as Aragorn sat next to 
his friend, trying to reach him with his gaze.

"Who else, can it be, Gandalf?" The prince suddenly snapped, hissing 
the words out with anger worth of Sauron, presenting them with the 
same peaceful face of everyday. "I, unlike you, have not died and 
returned. I have in fact, never left"

{Let go}

"Yes, you have, Legolas. You left your own body once before, and I 
pulled you back. And you almost left us in Lothlórien, almost 
abandoned us" Aragorn answered, trying to bring out a response from 
neutral features, or see some kind of light in foggy eyes.

Nothing came.

"Ask Boromir if that had not been for the best of us all"

Grey eyes widened in realization. "You do not think that you did 
something to kill…" "I do not think such things" the elf responded 
calmly "I am certain of them. I heard it all, a threat in the wind, 
the pull of power called, and Boromir answered, and I never told you 
this, did I Estel? Look at me, and tell me, did I tell you that?" His 
voice was colder than ice.

Aragorn flinched slightly, and got angered when he saw no light in his 
eyes or any expression on his face. 

"Nay, you did not"

{Estel, nay!} {Losta, cunn, losta si} (Sleep, Prince, sleep now)

"Because I am weak, because I was afraid; you would kill me, you would 
despise me. I should not have worried, for I know you already do. I 
know how much you wish to draw your sword right now, and slice my body 
with its sharp blade. For the Valar Aragorn, do it already, for I will 
kill you all"

{I do not wish to hurt you…not hurt my friends…} {Yet, you still do; 
you hurt them all, you kill your friends. You do} {And no matter what 
I do…I always hurt my friends}

Aragorn's body tensed, and Mithrandir's eyes hardened, turning his 
gaze away from Legolas. "Aragorn, he is being defeated. Shadow is 
starting to take over completely, he is beginning to fade, do not hear 
his words, and search for your friend" he paused, and placed a hand on 
Aragorn's shoulder "the one that sits in fronts of you, is your enemy, 
and he has your friend"

Aragorn's eyes roamed over the familiar features of the elf, and 
noticed the first edges of the mask start to fall, after only a few 
moments of observation, the prince's features had twisted into such a 
salvage expression, that Aragorn could not deny, that this was not 
Legolas.

"I refuse to hear you, Legolas of Mirkwood"

{Estel…}

"For I know who you are"

{So dark…is swallowing me whole, Estel I am drowning…}

'Daro, gûr' (Stop, death) 'Lya al Legolas' (You are not Legolas) The 
man said firmly.

{Nay…al enni} (Nay…not me)

A smile that twisted the beautiful elven features into 
something…horrible…touched his lips. "I was not" He placed a cold hand 
on the mortal shoulder "I am now"

In a haze of anger and helplessness, Aragorn nodded and stood up from 
the ground, unsheathing his sword slowly, and staring at the blade in 
the moonlight. "Then I shall free my friend"

{I do not wish to die…I do not wish to die} {You cannot go back now…} 
{I must correct my wrongs} {And in this, you shall, for your blood, or 
your friend's, shall stain this cursed land}

Legolas' face smiled, and he nodded as well, pulling his elven knifes 
with grace and certainty, he moved farther away from camp. "I warned 
you, Estel" his voice whispered, "I am slaughtering you all". Not a 
trace of remorse could be found in his stance. 

Gandalf went to talk with Aragorn, but a glance from the human stopped 
him from intervening.

Aragorn walked in front of Legolas, and turned on his heels, angered 
eyes meeting his. He drew his sword and prepared for the fight. 

Legolas did not hesitate, attacking first. Knifes drawn, he lurched 
forward and with a strength Aragorn did not thought him to posses, he 
avoided the sword with no more than one knife, slicing a minor wound 
on the human's arm with the other. Blood poured from the cut, and 
Legolas jumped backwards, easily, as Aragorn instinctively attacked 
with his sword, it had been aimed straight at his heart. 

The elf took on a defensive stance as Aragorn moved closer, and with 
both knifes; he avoided the attack that came his way. Dizzyingly fast, 
his legs carried him a step away from Aragorn. With both weapons, he 
attacked his friend, barely missing to stab him to his chest when the 
human moved quickly away.

Glancing around with an amused smile, as if he were playing, Legolas 
moved towards Aragorn, and the man was about to attack when suddenly 
Legolas was no longer visible. Quickly turning around, he did not see 
him, and a melodic voice sang from nowhere.

"Don't you think it's time to stop the chase? Around the ring Just 
stop running, running 'Round the ring Don't you know that fate has 
been decided By the gods? Feel the distance, distance Out of reach" 

And there was Legolas again, smiling at him, standing straight and 
strong. Aragorn attacked and managed to touch his sword to the elf's 
shoulder, before Legolas jumped away and avoided any further injury.

"Kill me Aragorn, you wish to do it, you wish to attack me with all 
you have, to slaughter the one that has murdered Boromir, to punish me 
from making Mithrandir suffer" Legolas taunted as he avoided another 
blow, and delivered another quick cut to Aragorn's forearm. "You wish 
to kill the one that has murdered the fellowship, the same that shall 
bring you all down with him" His voice went softer then, and Aragorn's 
eyes stared Legolas down as the elf spoke "Just let me die"

Aragorn moved closer, and closer, Legolas did not move from his spot. 
A sudden movement caught the elf off guard, and he found Aragorn's 
sword to his throat. He smiled at him, and Aragorn hissed out the 
words he spoke. "No more light for you, no more trees, no more home, 
no more life…"

{Nay, Estel…Elbereth, please, Aragorn…Estel…kill me…}

The point of Aragorn's sword drew blood, and then Legolas reacted, 
ducking to avoid the sword, he went to stab with both knives. Aragorn 
almost received the wounds, but he managed to skip away.

"I have none of those things, now Estel"

Aragorn attacked, and Legolas held his weapons strong to avoid the 
sword. "You do not," Aragorn gasped out, trying to force the sword 
away from the knives that had it intertwined above the elf's head. 
"Legolas does"

{Not me, not me, not me, not me}

{Never you}

A quick stroke, and the blade dripped blood. Knives fell to the ground 
as the author of the attack looked on at what his actions caused.

Legolas looked up, and then sank to his knees, as the wound on his 
shoulder dripped with blood. He dropped his head, and started shaking 
it, as if to deny some unspoken words.

"Nay" He hissed out, and Aragorn looked at him warily "I do not think 
I have those things either"

Sword falling to the ground, Aragorn sank to his knees next to the 
elf, and took a hold of slim shoulders, as he had done before. 
"Legolas"

Clear blue eyes looked at him, and the mask started to fall back in 
place, slowly, concealing the anguish on his face, but never the one 
that still remained on his gaze. "I believe that is my name, Estel" he 
said softly.

Aragorn sighed in relief, and gently removed the elf's hand from his 
wound. It was not deep, and it should heal soon enough. He smiled at 
his friend and forcing the hesitant eyes to meet his, he spoke. 
"Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood. You are not a murderer…Boromir was 
murdered by orcs, and I do not see you as one of them. You have *not* 
murdered, or even betrayed anyone, as you so strongly seem to believe"

"Estel?"

"Aye?"

"'Tis so dark…"

"No, Legolas. 'Tis never dark…open your eyes, and pull yourself back. 
Look up, see the moon, watch the stars, there is light, and the 
stronger one is the one you carry"

"Aragorn?"

"Tell me?"

"I cannot see you"

Aragorn took a hold of his chin, and lifted his face, watching his 
eyes carefully. "Do you want to?"

"I'm afraid…"

"Do not be"

"Failure…"

"You have not failed us once, Legolas. You do not wish to start now, 
and let Gandalf down, do you?"

The elf shook his head silently.

"You have never failed me, prince of Mirkwood. Believe me, young one, 
you would know if you had" Mithrandir's voice whispered gently and 
Legolas lifted his face to see him. 

"I suppose you are back"

"To stay, young elf. I am here"

Legolas nodded again and stood up, walking to the camp with his back 
turned to his friends. He waited for them to catch up with him 
silently.

"Aragorn?"

"What is it, Legolas?"

"I can see you…but I know; it will not last" 

"What makes you say that? What do you feel, Legolas?" Aragorn asked 
worriedly, turning to face his friend. He sat down on the floor of the 
camp, and Legolas did the same, allowing the man to treat his wound. 

"Nothing. I feel nothing" was the whisper that answered him, as the 
mask was replaced finally. And the normalcy on his face was unnerving.

There was no more talk that night, and Aragorn had no more than one 
hour to rest, while both, the Istari and the elf had none. The night 
was barred with long clouds, fleeting on a chill wind, when they arose 
again. Under the cold moon they went on once more, as swift as by the 
light of day.

"Strange names you give indeed!" The guard at the gates of Edoras 
spoke "But I will report them as you bid and learn my master's will," 
he paused and gave the remaining fellowship a long glance. "Wait here 
a little while, and will bring you such answer as seems good to him. 
Do not hope too much! These are dark days." 

He went swiftly away, leaving the strangers in the watchful keeping of 
his comrades. 

{They look at you, as the rat you are} {They do not know who I am} {Do 
they need to know you? With a simple glance to your face, they can see 
the traitor inside of you. Do you wish to stop that?} {Nay…I will not 
surrender again. I am in control} {Or so you seem to think}

Legolas closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds, and focused his 
gaze on his friends. Aragorn glanced around silently, as if someone 
who has seen the place before now. Gandalf stood calmly, gently 
patting Shadowfax, as the proud horse remained still at his side, 
uncaring of the awe-filled gazes of those surrounding them.

He quickly averted his eyes from Gimli though, who he knew, was aware 
of more than what he let on. 

Gimli glared back at the men whose gazes seemed to pierce them, 
uncomfortable by the stone silence that had fallen over the company, 
and unhappy for being mistrusted like a mere thief, when their quest 
had cost them so dearly, all for the safety of the land…this men's 
land, as well as his own. It did not seem fair. With a quick glance 
around, the dwarf sighed to himself and just stood there, looking 
everywhere but to the faces of those men that had offended them with 
mistrust…even when he knew he could not blame them, for this were 
indeed dark times, the darkest of his life. 

His stony gaze fell on Legolas, and he forgot his train of thought. 
Since the events of the night before, when he had pretended to be 
asleep, he was greatly concerned for the elf that he had come to call 
a friend. The voice of the elf last night had not been Legolas. His 
words…had not sounded like him. And the tiniest of gazes he had of his 
face when he had been challenging Aragorn, believing the dwarf asleep, 
had most definitely not been his friend. When the ranger, elf and 
wizard had returned to the camp, obviously after some sort of battle, 
Legolas had answered the ranger with words that almost made Gimli send 
his sleeping act to the skies, and shake some sense into Legolas.

"What do you feel Legolas?" Aragorn had said "Nothing" Legolas had 
whispered.

And no other voice had followed that word. The ride towards this gate 
had been a mostly silent one, with Legolas speaking with both, Aragorn 
and Gandalf quietly, answering some things, and telling some others. 
He had not spoken to Gimli, though, and the dwarf was starting to 
think that the elf knew he had been awake the past evening.

It was then, that the guard returned, breaking into everyone's 
thoughts. "Follow me!" he said. "Théoden gives you leave to enter; but 
any weapon that you bear; be it only a staff, you must leave on the 
threshold. The door wardens will keep them."

The dark gates were swung open. The travelers entered, walking in file 
behind their guide. They found a broad path, paved with hewn stones, 
now winding upward, now climbing in short flights of well-laid steps. 

Legolas looked around as he walked, but saw no more than blurry shapes 
and fast moving shadows. The scenery was lost on his blue eyes that 
would have normally marveled at the beauty of such place.

{This is not right…I have heard this to be a beautiful place} {You 
have heard right} {Why I cannot see any of it? Only dark shapes move 
everywhere…} {Light hides from shadow} {Am I shadow?} {Since the 
moment you doomed the ones you called friends, you are}

Many houses built of wood and many dark doors they passed. Beside the 
way in a stone channel a stream of clear water flowed, sparkling and 
chattering. Legolas could hear it; the water, and he wanted to weep, 
for he was unable to see even the slightest drop of it. 

At length they came to the crown of the hill. There stood a high 
platform above a green terrace, which the elf was unable to see. He 
did see, however, Aragorn turning to see his reaction to what the elf 
assumed was a beautiful sight, and he took great care in looking as if 
he could not get enough of this view. The ranger seemed satisfied with 
what the mask showed him, and he grinned briefly in his direction, 
then turned around and walked ahead. The mask remained in place the 
whole walk.

Up the green terrace went a stair of stone, high and broad, and on 
either side of the topmost step were stone-hewn sea. There sat other 
guards, with drawn swords laid upon their knees. Their golden hair was 
braided on their shoulders the sun was blazoned upon their green 
shields, their long corslets were burnished bright, and when they rose 
taller they seemed than mortal men.

{At least I can see them…} {It's beauty you're denied…if you must 
continue to slaughter your friends, then you must not miss the other 
possible victims…} {I will not slaughter anybody…} {You already have. 
Or do you believe the hobbits safe? Do you see Boromir admiring the 
beauty of this place?} {…In Mordor…and dead…} {That is right}

"There are the doors before you," said the guide. "I must return now 
to my duty at the gate. Farewell! And may the Lord of the Mark be 
gracious to you!"

Legolas heard a murmur, and glanced at the retreating guard. 

{Did that man say something?} {Nay}

Gandalf stepped forward and Legolas looked at him. Another murmur, he 
realized, and saw how the guards turned the hilts of their swords 
towards the travelers in token of peace. A green blur was all he could 
see on them. Then one of the guards stepped forward and spoke.

Legolas frowned when he heard just a soft whisper, on which he could 
discern no words. 

"I am the Doorward of Théoden," he said, as Legolas struggled to hear. 
"Háma is my name. Here I must bid you lay aside your weapons before 
you enter."

{Why is the guard speaking so softly…I can barely hear him…weapons?} 
{Give him your bow, Legolas} {What is happening?} {It may be the 
custom of the Mark, to speak so low, little Prince. Remember what the 
other guard had said about your weapons? Hand your weapons to him}

Legolas gave into the guard's hand his silver-hafted knife, his quiver 
and his bow. "Keep these well," he said, "for they come from the 
Golden Wood and the Lady of Lothlórien gave them to me." His voice was 
steady, his face was normal and his hands did not shake. He did not 
know if it was happiness or grief what he felt when he realized he was 
getting better at this with each passing day.

Wonder came into the man's eyes, and he laid the weapons hastily by 
the wall, as if he feared to handle them. Then he murmured again, and 
Legolas stopped his face from frowning, and only nodded, for whatever 
the man had said, had not sounded ill. 

He saw Aragorn hesitate and say something, just as softly as the guard 
spoke.

{This must be some strange custom in these parts. These men have a 
keen hearing, indeed.} {You cannot hear their words, nor see well, can 
you now, princeling?} {Nay, for some reason…am I ill?} {You are far 
better than you deserve to be}

The guard, who had seemed far friendlier than the last ones, was 
suddenly blocking the way for them and seemed to be challenging 
Aragorn. Confused he turned to his friends, who were all very focused 
on what was transpiring.

{How can they hear and I cannot?}

Feeling returned back into him with a speed that made him weak. Fear, 
was the feeling he now could sense on his every bone...a fear he 
suppressed as best as he could.

{Are they murderers? Have they betrayed you?}

Gandalf spoke, and the tone of his voice sounded clear on his ears. 
What his words were he did not know. Legolas began to get alarmed at 
the defensive stance of Gandalf, and the determined faces that Aragorn 
and the guard of the gate, now wore. More murmurs of Aragorn and the 
guard, more things he did not understand. Then another tone broke into 
the apparent argument.

Legolas panicked. It was Gimli, and any day the elf would have heard 
his words had they had a mountain between them. Today, the dwarf's 
words were another of the many whispers, the many low voices, and the 
many blurry shapes that to him was this castle.

They were allowed to walk into a hall, than to the elven eyes was no 
more than a cloud of mist. Horrified he realized that one by one the 
clouds were darkening, and the murmurs slowly began to fade. He stood 
there, mask in place, eyes focused and back straight, as he was 
suddenly blind and deaf in the hall of a king he could not see, with 
friends he could no longer hear, and in a position that would require 
him to be able to do both.

{Let me out} his voice sounded deafening in the sudden silence

{You are outside} {I am blind…I am deaf…I am not outside} {'Tis you} 
{But the darkness…} {It is all that *you* are allowed to see}

Scared beyond his long years, Legolas stood there, and saw nothing, 
and heard nothing, did nothing… until he surrendered.

{I must keep up appearances…} {You must wear your mask, then} {I do 
not have it on?}

The mere thought of the fear he felt being reflected on his face was 
terrifying him. Aragorn would send him back…his father would despise 
him…

{I know not if you do} {You go out…I will stay inside} {Good, 
princeling…}

And the elven prince was not there, anymore. Not when the king stood 
and heard the words of wisdom, not when the food was served, not even 
when he, Legolas, spoke a few words.

And Gimli saw. And Aragorn saw. And Gandalf saw.

They had seen enough, for shadow could now be clearly seen on the blue 
orbs. It was time for war…extremely soon. Sooner than any orc they 
could battle against, of that they were certain.

Now men came bearing raiment of war from the king's hoard and they 
arrayed Aragorn and Legolas in shining mail. Helms too they chose, and 
round shields: their bosses were overlaid with gold and set with gems, 
green and red and white.

Legolas was vaguely aware of extra weight being added to his body. 
Sighing softly to himself, he recognized the weight of armor, and knew 
it was time for battle. A battle *he* had to be on, not the ghost that 
he knew was out there with his face right at this moment. 

{'Tis time I go outside, now} {You believe so, then?} {Nay, I know so, 
and I will not be swayed. War needs a warrior, and the not the façade 
of one} {Nay} {I will go} {You will...} {Si!} (Now!) {Impatient, are 
we not? Very well, princeling... Go to your war, face what you 
must…just remember one thing} {That I am weak?} {I do not need remind 
you of that. Just remember that the only mask you have now, is the one 
you are denying to use} {I shall not risk my friend's lives for an 
illusion of strength} {Not again, you mean?}

Gandalf took no armor, and Gimli was given a cap of iron and leather 
that fitted well upon his round head; and a small shield he also took. 
It bore the running horse, white upon green, which was the emblem of 
the House of Eorl.

"May it keep you well!" said Théoden. "It was made for me in Thengel's 
day, while still I was a boy"

Legolas fought his way back, just in time to hear those words, and in 
days long forgotten he knew he would have smiled at the king's words. 
Now, he could not even begin to try. Laughter was light, and light did 
not seem to touch him any longer.



The elf saw Aragorn staring into his face and lifted his fair head to 
meet grey eyes. But before anything could be seen by each of them, the 
ranger's attention was pulled from the elf towards a beautiful, and 
obviously interested, young woman, who was serving the wine and 
hailing each of them. Éowyn had paused with Aragorn and seemed to 
tremble slightly. Legolas sighed sadly for the disappointment he was 
sure she was going to feel later on. 



Éowyn reached him shortly after and with a small smile; she had 
welcomed the Prince of Mirkwood. He had attempted to smile back and 
nodded to her, as she passed on to another. When they had all drunk, 
the king went down the hall to the doors. There the guards awaited 
him, and heralds stood, and all the lords and chiefs were gathered 
together that remained in Edoras or dwelt nearby.

While it was decided who the new leader of the Rohan folk would be, 
Legolas turned his head away from business of a land that was not his 
own. As if he resurfacing from the strongest nightmare, he felt really 
awake for the first time since…Lothlórien it seemed. His eyes could 
stare into the beauty of the hall, and the scenery beyond the windows. 
He could see, he could hear, he felt like himself…

There was something wrong then…there just had to be…

"It shall be so," said Théoden, startling him. "Let the heralds 
announce to the folk that the Lady Éowyn will lead them!"

And once said so, Lady Éowyn was handed a sword and named as the Lady 
of the house, until the king's return…or the new king's return. She 
took it to the doors with her, when the company followed the king, to 
leave the castle on their way to the East. 

Aragorn looked back as they passed towards the gate. Alone Éowyn stood 
before the doors of the house at the stair's head; the sword was set 
upright before her, and her hands were laid upon the hilt. She was 
clad now in mail and shone like silver in the sun. To Legolas, she 
seemed like some Elven Queen of old, ready for battle. Perhaps, more 
ready for the upcoming battle than most of them.

Gimli, having noticed the change in the elf, now walked with Legolas, 
testing his observations while walking with his axe on his shoulder. 
"Well, at last we set off!" he said. "Men need many words before 
deeds. My axe is restless in my hands. Though I doubt not that these 
Rohirrim are fell-handed when they come to it. Nonetheless this is not 
the warfare that suits me. How shall I come to the battle? I wish I 
could walk and not bump like a sack at Gandalf's saddlebow."

Legolas turned his face towards his friend, and Gimli saw for himself 
that the now familiar fog in cerulean eyes was gone. "A safer seat 
than many, I guess," said Legolas. "Yet doubtless Gandalf will gladly 
put you down on your feet when blows begin; or Shadowfax himself. An 
axe is no weapon for a rider."

The elven voice was calm, and held the smallest hint of amusement in 
it, while he looked at his friend for a reaction. Gimli was surprised 
to find that without this…sort of façade Legolas had always shown him, 
he seemed…different…much younger, to start.

"And a Dwarf is no horseman. It is orc-necks I would hew, not shave 
the scalps of Men," said Gimli, patting the haft of his axe, stealing 
a glance at the elf. Yes, he seemed younger, and much less protected 
that he had before. He seemed much less…Legolas.

At the gate they found a great host of men, old and young, all ready 
in the saddle. More than a thousand were there mustered. Their spears 
were like a springing wood. Loudly and joyously they shouted as 
Théoden came forth. Some held in readiness the king's horse, Snowmane, 
and others held the horses of Aragorn and Legolas. 

Legolas noticed sadly that there were many young boys between the men, 
who seemed to have left their houses ready for battle no more than an 
hour or so ago. Éomer stood beside Gimli now, speaking with the dwarf 
and trying to make peace. Legolas turned away from the conversation as 
he neared his horse. The animal seemed glad to see him, and gently 
nuzzled his neck. He smiled sadly at the mane, patting the strong body 
gently. The horse suddenly was staring at him, and he almost laughed. 
Even this sweet horse could see something was wrong.

'Sîdh, mellon nîn' (Peace, my friend) He whispered gently and the 
horse nuzzled his neck again in response.

When finally reaching an agreement with Éomer, Gimli noticed Legolas' 
sad gaze as he caressed the four-footed nightmare that he called a 
horse…maybe not so bad, but the horse was no place for a dwarf…

"I thank you indeed," said Gimli to Éomer, greatly pleased. "I will 
gladly go with you, if Legolas, my comrade, may ride beside us."

"It shall he so," answered Éomer. "Legolas upon my left, and Aragorn 
upon my right, and none will dare to stand before us!"

The elf looked up at the mention of his name, and focusing on the 
words that had been said, he nodded, almost to himself. "Very well, my 
friends" His voice whispered, but none heard him. He mounted his 
gentle horse swiftly, moving to the left of Éomer's horse, where Gimli 
was riding, as he had heard that he should do.

"Behold the White Rider!" cried Aragorn, startling Legolas, and all 
took up the words.

"Our King and the White Rider!" they shouted. "Forth Eorlingas!"

The trumpets sounded. The horses reared and neighed. Spear clashed on 
shield. Then the king raised his hand, and with a rush like the sudden 
onset of a great wind the last host of Rohan rode thundering into the 
West. 

{You should have been left behind} {You are no warrior} {Shell of an 
elf} {Useless} {Weak} {You shall die} {You shall kill them all} {You 
shall slaughter innocent men} {You will be the doom of all who ride 
with you}

Far over the plain Éowyn saw the glitter of their spears, as she stood 
still, alone before the doors of the silent house. Her keen eyes 
focused on the fading figures, before she looked to the sky and hoped 
for strength.

Strength for the men, for the young, for the heir to Gondor, for her 
own king, for herself…and for the elf that she knew, would probably 
die in battle. To her gaze, he had seemed to be dying all ready.

****

The host rode on. Need drove them. Fearing to come too late, they rode 
with all the speed they could, pausing seldom. Swift and enduring were 
the steeds of Rohan, but there were many leagues to go. Forty leagues 
and more it was, as a bird flies, from Edoras to the fords of the 
Isen, where they hoped to find the king's men that held back the hosts 
of Saruman.

Night closed about them. At last they halted to make their camp. 
Wearily the men mounted down their horses, in a great circle, under 
the starry sky and the waxing moon, they now made their bivouac. They 
lit no fires, for they were uncertain of events; but they set a ring 
of mounted guards about them, and scouts rode out far ahead, passing 
like shadows in the folds of the land. It was quiet all around; just a 
few whispers between comrades could be detected. 

Legolas looked to his right when he jumped off Arod, and saw one of 
the youngest of the company looking sadly towards the dark sky. Silent 
steps took the elf next to the boy who looked no older than fifteen 
winters. Focusing dimmed senses on the silent figure he noticed the 
air of complete loneliness that the kid seemed to radiate, and the 
Prince just knew that someone close to this soul had been lost to the 
unknown fate that waits for mortals once they go beyond the body. 
Making sure the boy noticed his presence; he stood beside him for a 
moment. 

"Eru gave your kind a gift that no elf will receive, young one, do not 
believe it to be a curse. Whoever is gone, will be with you once 
again… if that is to be" the melodic voice of the elf traveled in the 
silence, and some men turned their heads towards the conversation.

The boy turned shocked eyes to the elf standing next to him, and after 
a few tries, his voice finally whispered. "How did you…do you…how?"

{A dead one, can sense death}

A sad smile gazed the immortal lips. "I saw you" he whispered "looking 
at the stars…a sign of hope, are they not?"

The boy nodded silently, and turned his gaze back to the sky. "You 
believe him to be all right?"

{Better than here}

"'Tis a gift, young one, a gift many of my kind hope for, and shall 
never know"

{And should know}

The kid's eyes turned to look at the elf, but Legolas was gone to tend 
to his horse. With a small smile the kid nodded to himself, and with a 
last gaze to the stars his father had loved, he went to rest for the 
night.

Legolas lay down on the hard ground, after making sure that Arod was 
all right, and focused his own gaze on the sky. The stars blinked back 
at him from their dark home. He felt someone lay down next to him, and 
turned to look at the new arrival. Aragorn sat on the ground, looking 
at him with a small smile on his lips. "That was very noble of you, my 
friend" the man whispered, "How you knew that, I know not, but you did 
exactly what that young man needed" 

Legolas looked back towards the sky, and answered after a moment of 
silence "It is a gift, Aragorn" he spoke softly, without glancing at 
the ranger "Indeed…one that should not be given to those who still 
have ties to this lands. What that young one needs, 'tis the one he 
lost…so many important mortals gone, Aragorn…and too many immortal 
ones, that should leave the land"

{Nay, 'tis just me who should leave the land} {You should have left it 
long ago, and many of the mortal ones would still be among this earth} 
{I cannot leave it} {Aye, you can} {I am immortal…I would still live} 
{Do you wish to leave the land?} {With each passing instant…} {Let me 
help you, my princeling}

Grey eyes studied the face of his elven friend with worry, and the 
unguarded features caught him by surprise. Never had he seen the 
Prince like this: his face alive with emotion, and his blue eyes…dead.

"Legolas" He whispered, and the dying gaze regarded him "Is this 
really you?"

{You can help me?} {Aye}

A small smile crossed the lips of the elf, and the penetrating blue 
eyes burned deep into Aragorn's grey ones. "Is it not horrible, when 
your true face is the unrecognizable mask?"

Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, and he placed a hand on the slim 
shoulder of the archer. "You shall beat this, Legolas, you are 
strong…'tis the shadow…"

Silence answered the ranger, and he noticed the small tears that 
wanted to escape Legolas' eyes as he turned his face away from him. 
The elf shook his head wordlessly, and his eyes went unfocused in 
sleep. The slow night passed without tidings or alarm. At dawn the 
horns sounded, and within an hour they took the road again.

Gandalf departed the company after a few nights, moving swiftly with 
Shadowfax ahead of the large group of armed men. After days of endless 
riding, the Riders were still in the low valley before the mouth of 
the Coomb, when cries and hornblasts were heard from their scouts that 
went in front. Out of the darkness arrows whistled. Swiftly a scout 
rode back towards them.

The scout had been overjoyed when he had seen the King of the Mark 
marching towards the battlefield, but still his news had been grim. 
Enemies were spreading everywhere, and Helm seemed to be extremely 
close to a massive attack. Legolas felt the weight of every waking day 
on his shoulders, every moment, the temptation of giving up control 
was stronger…yet he showed no signs of weariness as he focused keen 
eyes ahead and attempted to see what he knew was there. He had seen it 
but once before, and though far from his own land, he had learned 
enough of these fields while dwelling in Rivendell:

At Helm's Gate, before the mouth of the Deep, there was a heel of rock 
thrust outward by the northern cliff. There upon its spur stood high 
walls of ancient stone, and within them was a lofty tower. The 
Hornburg it was called, for a trumpet sounded upon the tower echoed in 
the Deep behind, as if armies long-forgotten were issuing to war from 
caves beneath the hills. There in the Hornburg at Helm's Gate 
Erkenbrand, master of Westfold on the borders of the Mark, now dwelt. 
As the days darkened with threat of war, being wise, he had repaired 
the wall and made the fastness strong. 

That was what Legolas knew. Luckily for him, all was correct. 

"Then let us be swift," Éomer was saying when Legolas focused back on 
the present. "Let us drive through such foes as are already between us 
and the fastness. There are caves in Helm's Deep where hundreds may 
lie hid; and secret ways lead thence up on to the hills."

"Trust not to secret ways," said the king. "Saruman has long spied out 
this land. Still in that place our defense may last long. Let us go!"

Aragorn and Legolas went now with Éomer in the van. The proud ranger, 
whose gaze seemed fearless and strong, was concerned of so much at 
once, than a lesser human would have been driven to insanity. His 
land, his future, his best friend…

{Look what you have done to Estel} {I have seen…} {You are murdering 
him, slowly…} {I do not…} {You torture him}

On through the dark night they rode, ever slower as the darkness 
deepened and their way climbed southward, higher and higher into the 
dim folds about the mountains' feet. They found few of the enemy 
before them. Here and there they came upon roving bands of Orcs; but 
they fled ere the Riders could take or slay them.

{And none of them touched me} {You wish them to} {Aye} {You wish to 
leave the land} {Aye} {You wish to leave the light} {Aye} {Do you wish 
then, to accept my help, little Prince?} {If I knew who you were…with 
my voice you speak…yet 'tis not me} {You shall know}

"It will not be long I fear," said Éomer, "'ere the coming of the 
king's host will be known to the leader of our enemies, Saruman or 
whatever captain he has sent forth."

The rumour of war grew behind them. Now they could hear, borne over 
the dark, the sound of harsh singing.

{My doom awaits me…}

There was neither star nor moon when the Riders came to the breach in 
the Dike of Helm, where the stream from above passed out, and the road 
beside it ran down from the Hornburg. The rampart loomed suddenly 
before them, a high shadow beyond a dark pit. As they rode up a 
sentinel challenged them.

"The Lord of the Mark rides to Helm's Gate," Éomer answered. "I, Éomer 
son of Éomund, speak."

{Battle…war…}

"This is good tidings beyond hope," said the sentinel. "Hasten! The 
enemy is on your heels."

{I can feel them, they carry death, and they carry destruction…} {Do 
you truly wish to leave this life?} {Aye, I do} {Then you shall, 
princeling} {How so? By whom?} {Feel the war, young Prince of 
Mirkwood, feel the destruction} {I feel the shadow} {That is right. 
You feel your fate} {What do you speak of?}

The king and his Riders passed on. Before the causeway that crossed 
the stream they dismounted. In a long file they led their horses up 
the ramp and passed within the gates of the Hornburg. There they were 
welcomed again with joy and renewed hope; for now there were men 
enough to man both the burg and the barrier wall. Relief could be felt 
on the very air they breathed; yet all of the soldiers knew it was not 
a time for celebration. Orcs came by thousands and with their arrival 
the future of the very land would be decided, battle after battle, 
until the war's end. 

Quickly Éomer set his men in readiness. The king and the men of his 
household were in the Hornburg, and there also were many of the 
Westfold-men. But on the Deeping Wall and its tower, and behind it, 
Éomer arrayed most of the strength that he had, for here the defense 
seemed more doubtful, if the assault were in great force. The horses 
were led far up the Deep under such guard as could be spared. Legolas 
reassured his mount gently, before walking away. He sat above on a 
parapet, fingering his bow, and peering out into the gloom in silent 
thought. After some time, he looked up to the approaching sound of 
heavy steps. 

Gimli had followed the silent elf as he gracefully moved between the 
men reading for battle. He had been struggling to catch up with 
Legolas, when he had been delayed by a few short words with Éomer; 
after which, the dwarf had lost sight of his friend. Wandering in the 
general direction the elf had been heading, he almost gave up. But 
when he looked up to the castle, he could see a silent figure sitting 
on a parapet of the rock structure. No man of Rohan that he knew 
possessed the dim golden glow of an elf. That was Legolas. 

His sturdy legs carried him to where the silent figure sat, and twin 
pools of blue were turned in his direction when he emerged upstairs. 
Legolas nodded to him, to then stare towards the distance once more. 
Standing below the parapet, the dwarf maintained the companionable 
silence for a few minutes, staring ahead as Legolas did. The sight was 
not a beautiful one. Darkness, and fire in the distance, men reading 
for battle underneath them…Gimli could feel the battle approaching, 
and he could not say that he wanted to wait for it. The threat was 
growing stronger by the minute, and it was about time they start 
fighting it!

Finally tiring of the silence, as was his custom, the dwarf spoke his 
mind "This is more to my liking," said he, stamping on the stones. 
"Ever my heart rises as we draw near the mountains. There is good rock 
here. This country has tough bones. I felt them in my feet as we came 
up from the dike. Give me a year and a hundred of my kin and I would 
make this a place that armies would break upon like water."

{Give me one year… and there would not be a life left on this place} 
{There are no more years for you}

As if considering his words, the elf paused, and finally without 
turning to face his friend, he spoke softly

"I do not doubt it," answered Legolas. "But you are a dwarf, and 
dwarves are strange folk; I do not like this place, and I shall like 
it no more by the light of day. But you comfort me, Gimli, and I am 
glad to have you standing nigh with your stout legs and your hard axe. 
I wish there were more of your kin among us. But even more would I 
give for a hundred good archers of Mirkwood. We shall need them. The 
Rohirrim have good bowmen after their fashion, but there are too few 
here, too few."

{Is that true, princeling?} {What is?} {A hundred good archers of 
Mirkwood?} {Aye…they could kill these foul orcs in the blink of an 
eye} {Leaving you where?} {Falling down endless walls of 
stone…'pushed' by some orc off this place, sent to my death} {And 
after that you would face elven heroes in the halls of Mandos, little 
one, how would you do that? How to inform to the holy Valar of your 
failure…you would be seen unworthy, you would be sent back…as a silent 
shadow…less than even the ghost of the past} {There is no hope for me 
then} {There might be one; little one…there might be one} {What do you 
speak of?} {Better focus on what Gimli speaks of, now…} {Nay, what are 
these words, and who voices them?} {You shall know}

"It is dark for archery," the dwarf was saying, having noticed in 
silence how the elven voice dripped with exhaustion…as if having faced 
a war that no other knew of. Thinking fast, his next words were 
planned. 

Rest would do his friend good…or a good battle as any warrior needed. 
Any choice would have to chase the shadow away from the blue orbs of 
the elf.

"Indeed it is time for sleep. Sleep! I feel the need of it, as never I 
thought any dwarf could. Riding is tiring work. Yet my axe is restless 
in my hand. Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all 
weariness will fall from me!"

No answer came, and Gimli sighed to himself. Opening his mouth to 
speak once more, the dwarf never got the chance. For it was then that 
suddenly from the Dike yells and screams, and the fierce battle-cries 
of men broke out.

War had reached them, and there was no more time for words. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
Part 1 of Helms Deep 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Thunder rolled in the valley. Rain came lashing down. Arrows thick as 
the rain came whistling over the battlements, and fell clinking and 
glancing on the stones. Some found a mark. The assault on Helm's Deep 
had begun, but no sound or challenge was heard within; no answering 
arrows came.

The assailing hosts halted, foiled by the silent menace of rock and 
wall.

{At last…} {You shall not die}

But soon, perhaps too soon, they moved forward, some against the 
Deeping Wall, other towards the causeway and the ramp that led up to 
the Hornburg-gates. 

{How do you say such things?} {You shall not die} {Stop…} {You. Shall. 
Not. Die} {Please…nay…you said I should}

There the hugest Orcs were mustered, and the wild men of the Dunland 
fells. A moment they hesitated and then on they came. A black cloud of 
death that froze the hearts of the men that looked out to see it come. 

Time for battle had arrived.

{It was told to you, that you would leave the land, leave the light, 
and leave this…existence} {I must die} {And face the Valar, how? And 
spend the rest of your days as something lesser than a ghost…like you 
scarcely deserve?} {Nay…I cannot remain…}

The broods of shadow came easily, advancing like ants towards food. 
They reached the summit of the rock; they drove towards the gates.

{Nay, you cannot} The voice was serene; mocking…cold…it was his voice…

{Why…} Nothing more than a mere whisper of despair, the echo of too 
many battles against enemies that were quickly gaining strength…so 
much strength…

{Tell me Princeling, do you live?}

Legolas jumped off the parapet on which he was sitting, and faster 
than any mortal eye could follow, his bow was on his hand, and an 
arrow securely notched on his hand. Automatic movements then took 
careful aim as the elf barely sensed Gimli gripping his axe, and 
muttering on his own tongue, words that dripped with thirst for 
battle. 

{Nay, not any longer, not for a long time…yet neither am I dead…I seem 
to have long ago become that shadow of the past you speak about} {Do 
you suffer? Like you deserve?} {Not nearly as I deserve} {How shall 
you die then? Thee that live, yet claims to die, thee that suffers, 
yet cries that it will never be enough. You know naught of suffering, 
little one, nothing! And you shall…you shall know its every syllable, 
and you shall suffer its every torment…Only then, young one, perhaps 
only then…you can die}

Legolas' arrow flew though the night, through the rain and through the 
field; before the lightening had ceased, it had slain a foul creature 
by piercing its throat. It was the first of a storm of arrows, and a 
hail of stones that met the orcs in a sudden flash. They wavered, 
broke, and fled back; and then charged again, broke and charged again; 
and each time, like the incoming sea, they halted at a higher point. 
It was a terrifying sight. 

Yet the pale hand never wavered, always hitting the intended target, 
always causing the death of the corrupted soul that those hideous 
creatures hid inside. 

{Are you better than them?}

They were assaulting the doors, the corpse of a tree between foul 
limbs that they used as hands. The screams of the nature around this 
place were deafening, the cries of death, the screams for blood. The 
agony of the dying, the thirst of the warriors, the very drowning air 
that smelled of death…

It was so much…

It was so…

{Perfect}

Dead eyes regarded the scene and a small grin grazed dry lips. It made 
the ethereal-being look feral. Had he not been observing ahead, he 
might have noticed that Gimli could barely recognize him. 

There was no time for words.

Below at the Deeping Wall, Éomer and Aragorn stood, waiting, and 
Legolas could see them. He could see everything. Normally keen senses 
seemed to have multiplied their ability, seemed to overwhelm him in 
the midst of the blood shed that went on as arrows flew. Legolas saw 
them, heard them, and observed in silence as they ran together and as 
the men that followed them were engulfed in war. The thirst grew…his 
eyes looked for more; his voice whispered the lines of ancient elvish 
tales of great battles. 

This was a men's war.

He did not even fit on this scene.

And the familiarity of this feeling made him laugh to himself. When 
the dwarf uttered his name in surprise, the thunder swallowed it, and 
Legolas never heard it. He never heard the retreat of the stout figure 
either, never cared to notice, as he killed a foul creature after 
another, murdering the ones that were breaking the door, the one that 
were most likely to kill Aragorn, to kill Éomer…the ones that he now 
knew could not kill him. 

{You shall not die, yet you shall murder them all, Princeling} 
{Nay…not this time. I shall save them} {Now you are strong? This is 
you, now? This orc with an elven façade?} {Admire your handiwork…} 
{'Tis your own fault, little one…weak one} {Weak how?! Tell me now! 
Weak how, if I can kill the shadow?!} {Can you?} {Do you not see me?} 
{I see an archer's body; I see a warrior's movements. Yet…that is not 
you} {How can it not be…how?} {You, little one…are here…with Me. You 
have been for a long time} {Help me…} {I shall, little Prince…I shall 
very soon…}

Startled, he shot another arrow, killed another one, even as his view 
was focused on Éomer's fall, as orcs launched on the human.

'Nay! Éomer hûl*!' He cried loudly. A breath later another voice rang 
out.

''Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!'' An axe swung and swept back. Two 
Orcs fell headless. The rest fled. Éomer was safe and Legolas sighed a 
sigh of relief, short lived as he was forced to murder another orc 
that seemed to aim for Aragorn. The black creature fell before the 
dark arrow could be aimed. 

{Without Gimli…} {I know} {Another would have fallen} {I saw} {And you 
did nothing. You call yourself strong? Worthy?} {Never}

A feverish glint entered dead eyes that suddenly seemed to glow 
beneath the rain. Another arrow was aimed, and the final arrow of his 
lot went through an enemy's skull. The orc fell without a noise 
uttered. 

{It is over…over…I must breath…} {Never over, princeling} {They've 
locked the door, the orcs are outside, and my arrows are spent…} 
{Unworthy…coward… weak…} {When shall you help me…} {There is more 
battle to come, is there not, little one? Wait for it, for aid shall 
come, I shall aid you}

Quick steps took the dwarf towards the wall he had left before. Where 
he had seen a side of the elf that never before had he witnessed…that 
he did not thought existed…looking back of it, Gimli did not think it 
existed within the elf. It had seemed…evil.

His friend was staring ahead when he reached his place, and the calm 
he radiated, as if waiting for something to happen, was a stark 
contrast to the barely maintained sanity he had displayed earlier. 

"Two!" said Gimli, patting his axe. "Two?" asked Legolas softly, 
before turning in his direction. "I have done better, though now I 
must grope for spent arrows; all mine are gone. Yet I make my tale 
twenty at the least. But that is only a few leaves in a forest."

A pause, silence between them…

Then, the assault on the gates was redoubled. Against the Deeping Wall 
the hosts of Isengard roared like a sea. Orcs and hillmen swarmed 
about its feet from end to end. Ropes with grappling hooks were hurled 
over the parapet faster than men could cut them or fling them back. 

{Battle is far from over, little one}

The men of Rohan grew weary. All their arrows were spent, and every 
shaft was shot; their swords were notched, and their shields were 
riven. Three times Aragorn and Éomer rallied them; and three times 
Andúril flamed in a desperate charge that drove the enemy from the 
wall. Legolas could see it all, the black hordes attempting entrances, 
and he soon heard the Black Speech floating through the whole fort. It 
sounded like the orcs were just arriving…like they were…

'Na Elbereth…' (By Elbereth) he whispered with a cry of dismay. 

In the Deep behind Orcs had crept like rats through the culvert 
through which the stream flowed out. There they had gathered in the 
shadow of the cliffs, until the assault above was hottest. Then they 
sprang out. Already some had passed into the jaws of the Deep and were 
among the horses, fighting with the guards.

Gimli leapt with a fierce cry that echoed in the cliffs. 'Khazâd! 
Khazâd!' He soon had work enough. "Ai-oi!" the dwarf shouted. "The 
Orcs are behind the wall. Ai-oi! Come, Legolas! There are enough for 
us both. Khazâd ai-mênu"

'An agarwaen cuil!' (For bloodstained life!) Legolas screamed as he 
went forward, and nobody took notice of another battle cry amongst so 
many. Aragorn, below, heard these words, and paused in battle for a 
mere second, before the orc on front of him almost made him pay for 
it. Then he could no longer think of the words he knew, had been 
screamed by his elven friend. Legolas went to follow Gimli, but was 
soon detained on his way, and the dwarf went ahead of him. 

Gamling the Old, important man at the fort of Helm, looked down from 
the Hornburg, hearing the great voice of the dwarf above all the 
tumult. "The Orcs are in the Deep!" he cried. "Helm! Helm! Forth 
Helmingas." He shouted as he leaped down the stair from the Rock with 
many men of Westfold at his back.

Legolas saw this out of the corner of his eye. He had faced one 
foolish orc that had been going for the wall, and was now collecting a 
few precious arrows from wherever he could. He lost sight of his 
friend, and having descended a few steps, could not see Aragorn or 
Éomer. Only darkness, creatures of Isengard, and unknown men…

Not that he felt any more alone than he did when surrounded by 
friends.

Going back up worried over his comrades he peered out to the gloom 
below. "Legolas!" a familiar voice cried, and he recognized it as 
Aragorn's. "Be wary! Orcs are going up!"

In one swift motion his elven knives were pulled out of their sheaths, 
even as he heard for himself the sound of heavy feet. Soon, a group of 
some five orcs appeared, and he was ready for them. Knives flashing, 
one of them lost its head, and another its right arm. He saw Aragorn 
come to his aid with Éomer not far behind. 

{They are here to make sure you do not slaughter them all} {I am a 
warrior…} {Show them…show them, princeling}

In a deathly dance of lightening speed, Legolas killed the orc that 
had lost its arm, as well as another that lunged at him. Stab, blood, 
a scream, and such a feel of satisfaction…

There were two left. Legolas moved fast, and in the blink of an eye, 
he buried his knife deep into the gut of the orc fighting with 
Aragorn. Éomer beheaded another in the corner of his eye.

He had killed four out of five.

Aragorn gazed at him in silence, as if seeing something new in him, 
but Legolas paid him no mind, as he turned away and cleaned his knife 
off the gore of battle. He felt satisfied. He never had felt it before 
in battle…it felt good…

Gimli climbed up and found Legolas beside Aragorn and Éomer. The elf 
was whetting his long knife. "Twenty-one!" said Gimli.

"Good!" Legolas answered. "But my count is now two dozen. It has been 
knife-work up here."

And it felt so good to say that…

Aragorn stared in silence; Éomer frowned to himself at a strange note 
he had caught in the musical voice of the blond archer. Gimli looked 
at Legolas, attempting to discover what was bringing this strange 
behavior from his friend…but Legolas did not even glance at them. He, 
instead, glanced at the battlefield below.

"This is a night as long as years," he heard the ranger say. And he 
smiled to himself.

{This night has lasted for years, already}

"'How long will the day tarry?'"

{Never will it come again, Princeling. Did you know that? Tell me, 
little one…do you feel it?}

A whimper was swallowed by the night, by the battle, by the 
conversation between Aragorn and Gamling…

{Aye…I fear so}

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 
*hûl: Elvish cry of encouragement in battle means something close to 
"strength!" 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Devilry of Saruman!" cried Aragorn, and the satisfaction that Legolas 
was feeling was swept away like dust by the wind. "They have crept in 
the culvert again, while we talked, and they have lit the fire of 
Orthanc beneath our feet. Elendil, Elendil!" he shouted, as he leaped 
down into the breach; but even as he did so a hundred ladders were 
raised against the battlements. Orcs screamed in glee as the men 
attempted to drive them away.

{You were not paying attention} {Nay…I was…I…} {You must pay attention 
when in battle, little one, or did you believe yourself to be more 
than these armies…more than the men who are dying down there?} {Never, 
but I…} {If not for Aragorn you would not have noticed the very fire 
burning beneath you}

Over the wall and under the wall the last assault came sweeping like a 
dark wave upon a hill of sand. The hordes of Isengard seemed to have 
lost neither blood-thirst nor strength. 

{So many…} {Prove them} {I do not need to do so} {Do you not? Show 
them you are warrior; prove to Aragorn you can do more than slaughter 
his friends}

The defense was swept away. Some of the Riders were driven back, 
further and further into the Deep, falling and fighting as they gave 
way, step by step, towards the caves. Others cut their way back 
towards the citadel.

Screams of agony, screams for revenge, screams of pure rage and 
adrenaline…screams of the earth, and the screams of the very stars 
seemed to assault Legolas. In every battle he had ever fought it had 
saddened his heart, it made him suffer to see it, to feel it…now it 
felt…rewarding. 

{Does it not feel better? Does it not, Legolas? Tell me, little one, 
does it not feel exquisite?} {…It does…so much better, what is this 
sorcery?} {'Tis my help, Princeling, feel it, enjoy it to its fullest, 
feel it all} {I did not thought to deserve it} {Feel it, Prince of 
Mirkwood} {I feel it}

With a cold grin he ran easily between the battle, going after Aragorn 
with all his grace and all his speed. A flash of blond hair was all 
that could discern him from the shadows of this seemingly never-ending 
night.

{You shall not die} {Nay…not with this feeling…} {Every thing has its 
price, Princeling never forget it}

His heart racing, his gaze traveled quickly through the scene with his 
blue eyes taking in every detail, but none registering. 

{What does that mean?}

Silence.

Dread filled him. 

There was a broad stairway, climbed from the Deep up to the Rock and 
the rear-gate of the Hornburg. Close to the bottom of it, stood 
Aragorn, his friend, his gleaming sword Andúril gleamed dangerously on 
his hand, and the terror of the sword for a while held back the enemy, 
as one by one all who could gain the stair passed up towards the gate. 
The elf was behind him, frightened beyond his millenniums of age. His 
keen gaze could discern every tense muscle in Aragorn's back as the 
man stilled the enemies' advance. 

{What does that mean?! What price?}

Nothing came. He was shaking all over.

Slowly, Legolas knelt; taking an arrow that had been engraved unto the 
wood of a window-frame near his stance. It was his very last gleaned 
arrow. His bow was bent, and the arrow ready. He peered out now, 
forcing the shaking of his limbs to recede, forcing control over his 
body. He swallowed hard, as he watched Aragorn stand there …

{Nay…nay, no price, there will be no damned price!}

"All who can have now got safe within, Aragorn," he called towards his 
friend. "Come back!"

Aragorn turned and sped up the stair; but as he ran he stumbled in his 
weariness. At once his enemies leapt forward. Up came the Orcs, 
yelling, with their long arms stretched out to seize him. 

Legolas' heart froze. His eyes widened, his breathing quickened like 
never before. Barely thinking enough to aim, his hands let the arrow 
fly, and the foremost fell with Legolas' last arrow in its throat. But 
the rest sprang over him. Then a great boulder, cast from the outer 
wall above, crashed down upon the stair, and hurled them back into the 
Deep.

He gasped for breath, as he quickly grabbed Aragorn's arm and led him 
up towards the wall once more. His heart racing, his eyes wide, to the 
ranger the elf had never seemed more mortal. 

{No price, no price…I do not feel good any longer, no price…} 

"Things go ill, my friends," Aragorn said, wiping the sweat from his 
brow with his arm.

"Ill enough," answered Legolas, 

{Aragorn…me…safe, we are safe…Elbereth no!}

"But not yet hopeless, while we have you with us. Where is Gimli?" his 
last question lost its calm tone, his words rushed, and Aragorn 
frowned.

"I do not know." The ranger said finally, and Legolas felt his heart 
freeze again. "I last saw him fighting on the ground behind the wall, 
but the enemy swept us apart."

{Nay, nay, nay, nay, no price, by the stars Elbereth, no price…}

"Alas! That is evil news," said Legolas in a whisper. "He is stout and 
strong," Aragorn, troubled over the panicked expression on his 
friend's face, reassured him. "Let us hope that he will escape back to 
the caves. There he would be safe for a while. Safer than we. Such a 
refuge would be to the liking of a dwarf."

{Caves…there are caves. Gimli shall find them, he must…}

"That must be my hope'' said Legolas, forcing his breathing to slow 
down. Noticing Aragorn's worried glance, he thought fast. "But I wish 
that he had come this way. I desired to tell Master Gimli that my tale 
is now thirty-nine."

{My voice was normal…all is fine, there are caves. There will be no 
price for two seconds of satisfaction…} {There will not?}

"If he wins back to the caves, he will pass your count again," laughed 
Aragorn, relieved. "Never did I see an axe so wielded." The ranger 
searched the blue gaze with his, but the elf quickly turned away. At 
Aragorn's puzzled frown Legolas began to panic.

{Think, fool of an elf…}

"I must go and seek some arrows," Legolas finally explained. "Would 
that this night would end, and I could have better light for 
shooting."

With a nod, he walked away, and Aragorn stared after him for a minute. 
The ranger sighed and passed into the citadel. 

{That was close, was it not, Princeling?} {You left me…} {'Tis your 
own mind. One would think you would like to be left alone} {Too long 
without being alone…} {You shall miss me if I leave then, little one?} 
The voice was mocking him…but he felt so small right now…so weak.

{Aye, I think I shall}

He reached a spot that had surely been a battlefield minutes before. 
Three men lay dead, and some four orcs were scattered on the ground. 
Two of them had arrows all over their backs. Glancing up he saw the 
wall where the archers had surely been standing, and saw no one there. 
With a distracted shrug of his shoulders he collected four arrows from 
the place. His light, silent steps took him around the perimeter 
easily, and he managed to collect a good share of arrows to use in 
whatever battle they next faced. 

{There is always a price, little one}

With the only help of his keen hearing, he caught the familiar sound 
of an arrow bristling through the air. Out of reflex he jumped aside, 
and glanced at the arrow that had nearly pierced his chest. It was one 
from an ally. Lifting his head, he loudly called. "I am no orc, halt 
your attack!" He saw the face of the human archer form the distance. 
He seemed young, and horribly surprised. Legolas bowed to him, hoping 
the kid saw it. Then collected the arrow that almost killed him, and 
added it to his stock. 

{There will be no price. I do not know what sorcery was, that made me 
draw satisfaction from bloodshed, but I do not feel it any longer…I 
feel nothing any longer}

{Tell me something, Prince of Mirkwood}

He walked away from the place, and went back the way he had come, 
hoping to find Aragorn somewhere around the wall. For the first time 
in extremely long years, he needed the reassurance of someone's 
company…

{Do you not feel the weakness?}

He saw a figure walking ahead of him, and he went up to meet his 
friend. In silence, Legolas joined the human and walked with him as he 
passed round all their circuit, enheartening the men, and lending aid 
wherever the assault was hot. 

{I feel the strength leaving my body; I feel my dependence on a voice 
that sounds like mine. I feel like I am being buried alive…and I 
cannot stop it}

Blasts of fire leaped up from below shaking the stones. 
Grappling-hooks were hurled, and ladders raised. Again and again the 
Orcs gained the summit of the outer wall, and again the defenders cast 
them down.

{You wish my help then?} {What of your price?} {'Tis your risk}

At last Aragorn stood above the great gates, heedless of the darts of 
the enemy. As he looked forth he saw the eastern sky grow pale. Then 
he raised his empty hand, palm outward in token of parley.

Legolas watched him in silence, his heart racing at the possibility of 
an arrow piercing his friend's heart. He wanted to stop him, to yell 
at him to get down from that place…and his voice would not come.

{No price for them…nothing to them. Not my friends…}

{I believe I said *your* risk, Princeling}

The Orcs yelled and jeered. "Come down! Come down!" they cried. "If 
you wish to speak to us, come down! Bring out your king! We are the 
fighting Uruk-hai. We will fetch him from his hole, if he does not 
come. Bring out your skulking king!" 

{What if I went down there?}

Legolas' eyes widened at the thought.

{What am I thinking? 'Tis ridiculous!}

The laughs of the foul creatures made him shiver, as he glanced at the 
glory his friend seemed to radiate, by just standing there. 

{And 'tis so tempting…}

A few short breaths, and then he saw Aragorn leap down from the 
archway of the gate where he had stood. The place came crumbling down 
in a cloud of smoke and dust. Aragorn sighed and ran towards the 
king's tower. Legolas closed his eyes tightly and in that split 
second, nodded, with no one to see it.

{I shall take the risk}

With his heart suddenly feeling lighter, he ran after Aragorn. But his 
mind would not stop wondering what his price would be.

{Whom do I pay to, then?}

{You shall see, little one}

{There had been no price…}

It was under the light of that fair morning when King Théoden and 
Gandalf the White Rider met again upon the green grass beside the 
Deeping-stream. There was also Aragorn son of Arathorn, who observed 
the scene with his usual calm, his eyes discretely drinking in the 
sight of his friend, Legolas the Elf…smiling. The ranger's eyes 
attempted to meet the blue gaze of his friend, but the fair Prince was 
happily staring in the direction of the trees. It warmed Aragorn's 
heart to see his elven friend enjoying the trees, even if they were 
wizardry, like he did when they were both younger, in Rivendell or in 
Mirkwood. The ranger could remember several occasions when he had 
teased the elf for ignoring him in favor of a tree. With the smallest 
of smiles, Aragorn turned his own gaze to the strange trees that had 
helped them in battle.

{Perhaps, Princeling, you must not trust on your luck any longer. The 
price shall come} {There was no price. I can feel not the pain…my 
heart feels lighter than under any moon we have passed on this quest. 
Something happened up there…} {Yes, little one. Something did happen. 
And you should know by now that nothing comes for free}

There was also Erkenbrand of Westfold, and the lords of the Golden 
House. About them were gathered the Rohirrim, the Riders of the Mark: 
wonder overcame their joy in victory, and their eyes were also turned 
towards the wood.

Legolas' ears twitched when he caught the familiar sound. His smile 
brightened as another slight weight was lifted completely off his 
shoulders.

There was a great shout, and down from the Dike came those who had 
been driven back into the Deep. There came Gamling the Old, and Éomer 
son of Éomund, and beside them walked Gimli the dwarf, the owner of 
the heavy steps Legolas had easily heard coming. The dwarf had no 
helm, and about his head was a linen band stained with blood; but his 
voice was loud and strong.

{Do you see? It almost reached your friend. But it is you who must pay 
it, Princeling of Mirkwood. For you are the one who got the prize…does 
your heart feel good now, little one? Do your soul feels lighter?}

"Forty-two, Master Legolas!" Gimli cried. "Alas! My axe is notched: 
the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?"

{Aye, it feels better, I feel lighter. And I have agreed to pay for 
it} {You will feel it when it is time to pay}

"You have passed my score by one," answered Legolas. "But I do not 
grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!"

{So glad to see your life was not my price} {Selfish} {Uncaring} 
{Heart of Ice} {Nay…nay, I wish to pay now} {Do you?} {Aye, I cannot 
bear this. I wish to pay…whoever you are, my will is to pay you now} 
{Since when, pray tell me, does your will matters to me? Since when 
does it matter to you for that matter? Selfish little one, you shall 
pay when 'tis time}

He heard the warm welcome the new arrivals received by everyone in the 
field, and he forced his body to react to the situation. Acting 
normal, hailing the soldiers that passed by him, and welcoming his 
friends as warmly as his thoughts permitted him. Luckily for him, it 
was enough, for the moment. 

{Do you hear it?}

"Once more you come in the hour of need, unlooked-for," said Éomer. 
"Unlooked-for?" said Gandalf. "I said that I would return and meet you 
here."

{All around this group, can you hear the voices?} {Whispers…} {Aye, 
whispers, do you hear their voices?} {They…they cry} {Can you hear 
why?}

"But you did not name the hour, nor foretell the manner of your 
coming. Strange help you bring. You are mighty in wizardry, Gandalf 
the White!" "That may be. But if so, I have not shown it yet. I have 
but given good counsel in peril, and made use of the speed of 
Shadowfax. Your own valour has done more, and the stout legs of the 
Westfold-men marching through the night." Answered Gandalf easily, 
with a smile of amusement gracing his lips.

{They cry in agony…it does not reach me…what is this sorcery? The 
cries of the trees, they are, yet their pain does not reach me! Why 
does it not?} {You shall know, little one, but I know you can hear 
their cries, if not feel their pain. What do they say?} {They cry over 
the darkness, the shadow that is overcoming this place…that is 
overcoming the light…} {You know there is more} {…That is overcoming 
me…} {You cause their agony, Princeling. Greenleaf…is that not your 
name?} {What shadow?}

Then all the men gazed at Gandalf with still greater wonder. Some 
glanced at the wood, and passed their hands over their brows, 
wondering if their eyes deceived them, and they saw what the wizard 
did not.

Gandalf laughed long and merrily. "The trees?" he said. "Nay, I see 
the wood as plainly as do you. But that is no deed of mine. It is a 
thing beyond the counsel of the wise. Better than my design, and 
better even than my hope the event has proved." "Then if not yours, 
whose is the wizardry?" said Théoden. "Not Saruman's, that is plain. 
Is there some mightier sage, of whom we have yet to learn?"

"It is not wizardry, but a power far older," said Gandalf: "a power 
that walked the earth, ere elf sang or hammer rang."

{This cursed nature! Those things are moving again, what business is 
this of theirs? Shepherds of the trees, so long asleep, they should 
have long ago disappeared this earth. Why do they meddle in business 
that is not their own. A men's war, no one else's, no other cursed 
creature should meddle in such a thing. They will not win this, they 
shall not beat two armies, not at once, and they cannot…} 

Legolas froze. His thoughts blurred, and his muscles tensed. In the 
midst of explanations, no one noticed. It was not his voice speaking 
any longer, and they were words not meant for him. Those words were 
musings of a mind that was not his. The voice…so dark…

{What in the Valar's name are you? Whose thoughts were those?!}

Silence.

Deafening silence.

{What were those words?}

Nothing

{Answer me!}

Then a whisper came. And he recognized his own voice. He almost could 
not catch the slurred words running through his thoughts. 

{Your price, 'tis your price, you felt good? Well you must pay for 
that, who are you to feel good? Nobody, you are nothing yet your soul 
feels lighter. Murderer! You would sell your very soul for seconds of 
well being, for mere wizardry? You would do that to your friends…they 
trust a traitor!} Yet that was not he.

{That was not my price! That was a mistake, your mistake! You are 
something, you are alive and you have…} his voice was desperate in his 
mind, and in the field his presence melted into the background. 

Gandalf speaking, Théoden speaking…nobody noticed the elf with wide 
eyes staring at nothing. 

{You have done everything, weakling! Not me! Do not attempt to relieve 
yourself of the guilt, relieve your being of the blame you have for 
every wrong that has befallen this company!}

{'Tis was a mistake of yours to let me hear that…}

{'Tis was a mistake of Middle-Earth to let you live! You do not 
deserve the light, you do not deserve the trees or the nature or the 
family you have or the abilities you were given. You deserve none. You 
have none. You have no power, no self-control. }

{Those thoughts were not mine…}

{You have not the strength that is needed to handle the truth. You 
hide behind the pretty lies you chose to hear. You are but a child, 
little one. You are a child that should not be amongst heroes and not 
even among the living. You are not an elf any longer, you are dead, 
and you are nothing}

{Lies, lies, and lies…you are alive, you are something, you try to 
fool me…}

{Lies is what you hear, what you chose to hear! I tried to save you, I 
allowed you to see yourself. But you are too weak; you cannot even 
handle your own reflection}

{'Twas a twisted reflection}

{The only twisted thing, is that you deny the truth behind my words. 
Can you not feel it, prince of Mirkwood? Can you not feel the strength 
abandoning you, the shadow luring you? You have sold your very 
existence in order to relieve yourself of the weight of your own 
actions, and you must pay, little one. You must pay with your 
existence, with your life, and with your light}

{Nay…}

{Do you not feel weaker?}

{Will not answer you…}

{I am you, little one. You have allowed me to become you, to become 
such a part of your being that you will not live without me, that you 
will not survive without me. Feel it, Princeling, the strength is 
leaving you, your burden is returning, is that what you wish?}

{Nay, nay, nay, you are not me…cannot be me…who are you?}

{Answer me, young one, do you wish the burden to return?

{Nay, but neither do I wish the help of shadow}

{What makes you think you are being helped by shadow? By some trick of 
the mind that has betrayed you since Moria?}

{'Tis was no trick…}

{Says you?} {Stop this} {You cannot handle it? You cannot even focus 
on what is happening in the real world, now} {I know what has 
happened. I have heard, I can handle myself like I have done for 
millenniums past} {Have you handled yourself? Or has everyone else 
done it for you, Princeling?}

The King sent messengers to Edoras. There the Lord of the Mark would 
hold an assembly of all that could bear arms, on the second day after 
the full moon. To ride with him to Isengard the King chose Éomer and 
twenty men of his household. With Gandalf would go Aragorn, and 
Legolas, and Gimli. In spite of his hurt the dwarf would not stay 
behind.

"It was only a feeble blow and the cap turned it;" Gimli said. "It 
would take more than such an orc-scratch to keep me back."

{And it shall take more than your lies for me to acknowledge you once 
more} {You resign your strength, then Princeling? You resign to 
everything but yourself?} {Aye} {You do know I will not leave} {Aye, 
but do not celebrate the fact. I shall know who you are, and I shall 
destroy you}

{You cannot even face yourself…how do you expect to handle, much less 
destroy, the unknown?}

It was then that this false strength left him, and without it, Legolas 
was barely able to stumble and lay down on the ground, next to the men 
that were resting now for the journey towards Isengard. Aragorn was 
startled, when he saw what he had not seen before: his elven friend 
closed his eyes. 

But the elven prince did not see him…he just allowed a healing trance 
to overcome him, dulling the voice that still called to him. 

{You shall come back to me}



Blood. It was all over him…and it was not his. Blood. It was on his 
hands, on his clothing…on his daggers…on his very soul. He was forever 
stained with the red, upon the once bright light of his existence…and 
his eyes were to be forever marked with the image that lay in front of 
him.

Aragorn was being buried among the fallen ones of the battle, his body 
mutilated, almost beyond recognition…his face frozen in such surprise, 
such betrayal, that it was unbearable to glance at it without looking 
away. He had been stabbed…by a dagger…multiple times…and not in 
battle. 

Gimli was being covered with earth when Legolas looked away towards 
the other side of the field. The dwarf fallen, by two arrows in the 
back. Arrows made by an orc…but never shot by one. 

Legolas felt like an orc as he watched, for his body was numb…and he 
felt nothing. His hands were stained with his best friend's blood, and 
they still shook from having shot the arrows that murdered Gimli. 
Legolas barely discerned the weight of heavy chains on his wrists, on 
his gore-stained limbs. 

And he cared not. For the waiting had been too much, the horrible 
uncertainty had come to an end. Legolas had made it end. 

He had known he would murder them all…he had made it happen at long 
last. No more waiting, no more anguish of seeing them live when he 
knew that by his fault they were soon to die. They were dead now…it 
had come to pass. No more anguish…just the torture of living forever 
with the knowledge that he had murdered his friends, with the shame 
put upon him by everyone…even himself.

And there was no more voice…

Legolas, confused by his own thoughts, frightened by his very mind, 
had finally been able to break the healing trance the following 
morning, to see that he was the last of them to wake, the others 
already working in giving burial to the deceased.

{There is no place to escape, little one}

In a panic he had looked around, only to see Aragorn and Gimli helping 
with the same work. And the both of them were very much alive as he 
watched them. Forcing his legs to move, he had walked to their side in 
silence, reassured that it had all been a bad image brought on by too 
much stress…

Nay, he knew it to be a lie.

Elves do not sleep as mortals do. If even their resting place was 
haunted by horrible visions, there had to be something seriously 
wrong. But Legolas shook his head, and stubbornly repeated over and 
over that it was possible for him to have human nightmares, and that 
had just seen the proof of it.

{Not even your own thoughts are safe any longer princeling}

After tiring work, when the sun was almost upon the hills, the whole 
company had finally departed. Now surrounded by the trees that the 
humans seemed to fear so much, Legolas found a small amount of 
peace…along with a very small amount of sanity. 

{You cannot ignore me forever, little one. I am here…even if you 
choose not to listen. Concentrate on your beloved surroundings then, 
for believe me, you will not enjoy them for much}

Awareness had returned to his senses on this day, and after so much 
time without total control over his own body, to have it back seemed 
like too much. He still felt that it was overwhelming. He went in the 
same horse with Gimli, and they followed Gandalf closely, for Gimli 
feared the wood. But Legolas did not. This nature reminded him of his 
beloved Mirkwood, and the trees around them, however mysterious they 
seemed, sang in joy when among times of war they sensed a Wood elf 
between them. 

{You are pathetic child. Looking at the trees as if they would save 
you from what you have done to yourself}

Legolas would have sung to them, had he been able. He would have 
smiled and climbed one, and sung to them the songs of this home, to 
help them visualize forests beyond this dark lands. He would have sat 
with them for hours, just singing and relaxing…and smiling… but he 
could not. He could not smile, nor could he sing…and heading towards 
war, it was very unlikely that he would be allowed to stop his 
advance. Still, he needed these trees. They gave him the strength that 
he no longer felt. Their song with mixed themes of joy and sorrow made 
him feel needed, something that he had not felt since…since Moria? The 
elf sighed, and attempted to focus on the task at hand. They were 
headed to save the land, to fight the Dark Lord, and here he was 
thinking of the trees…

{Pathetic}

But he wanted to be with the trees…

Stealing side-glances to them, Legolas felt frustration building up, 
among with the strange desire to burst out laughing. He felt like a 
child. He felt like an exhausted child that carried two lines of 
thoughts instead of one, a child that carried another presence on his 
mind. A desperate child trying to cling into whatever small light 
there was among so much darkness. 

Choosing to distract his thoughts, and hopefully the taunting voice 
inside his thoughts, Legolas rode his horse closer to Mithrandir's. 

"It is hot in here," said Legolas to Gandalf. "I feel a great wrath 
about me. Do you not feel the air throb in your ears?" "Yes," answered 
Gandalf, his glance towards the blue eyes of the elf, told Legolas 
that he knew what he was trying to do. "What has become of the 
miserable Orcs?" Legolas asked, refusing to give up his hope to 
distract himself.

"That, I think, no one will ever know," Gandalf responded, with a 
touch of finality to his voice.

{Not even your friends will help you any longer}

Disappointed, Legolas gave up his attempt at conversation with the 
wizard, and concentrated back on the trees. They were his only hope 
then…the only thing that would keep him from listening to the foul 
voice. The company rode in silence for a while; but Legolas was ever 
glancing from side to side, and would often have halted to listen to 
the sounds of the wood, if Gimli had allowed it.

"These are the strangest trees that ever I saw," Legolas tried to 
explain to the stubborn dwarf "and I have seen many an oak grow from 
acorn to ruinous age. I wish that there were leisure now to walk among 
them: they have voices, and in time I might come to understand their 
thought."

{Please…let me stop for a second…I need something, and the trees 
provide it}

{Child}

"No, no!" said Gimli. "Let us leave them! I guess their thought 
already: hatred of all that go on two legs; and their speech is of 
crushing and strangling."

Legolas frowned, displeased with the assumption. He vaguely realized 
that this was working; he was not listening to anything but his 
friend's voice.

"Not of all that go on two legs," said Legolas. "There I think you are 
wrong. It is Orcs that they hate. For they do not belong here and know 
little of Elves and Men. Far away are the valleys where they sprang. 
From the deep dales of Fangorn, Gimli, that is whence they come, I 
guess."

"Then that is the most perilous wood in Middle-earth," said Gimli. "I 
should be grateful for the part they have played, but I do not love 
them. You may think them wonderful, but I have seen a greater wonder 
in this land…" The dwarf started to tell him about the caves of Helm's 
Deep, and Legolas sighed. No cave would ever breath, and no stonewall 
would ever sing to him the song of endless years. 

"…Dwarves, merely to gaze at them, if such things were known to be. 
Aye indeed, they would pay pure gold for a brief glance!" Gimli said 
then.

Seeing his chance to tease the dwarf, he spoke "And I would give gold 
to be excused," said Legolas dryly; "and double to be let out, if I 
strayed in!" Mithrandir glanced back at him with the barest of grins, 
and Legolas allowed his face to break into the slightest smile. This 
felt good. 

{You do not deserve good}

Seeing the elf's expression, Gimli controlled his urge to laugh, "You 
have not seen, so I forgive your jest," said he. "But you speak like a 
fool. Do you think those halls are fair, where your King dwells under 
the hill in Mirkwood…"

And *then* he really started to ramble. Legolas smiled at him, 
listening to the tales that spoke of real beauty hidden beneath the 
work of art that was nature. 

{Neither do you deserve that smile; erase it from your face. Boromir 
no longer smiles because of you. Neither does Frodo, nor Merry, nor 
Pippin…}

"…The Caverns of Helm's Deep! Happy was the chance that drove me 
there! It makes me weep to leave them." Gimli concluded, with a sigh 
that made Legolas grin.

He had not smiled this way in months.

"Then I will wish you this fortune for your comfort, Gimli," said the 
Elf, extending as long as he was able the most pleasing talk he had 
had with anyone since this burden had been added to his shoulders.

{The burden of your deeds, little one?}

"That you may come safe from war and return to see them again. But do 
not tell all your kindred! There seems little left for them to do, 
from your account. Maybe the men of this land are wise to say little: 
one family of busy dwarves with hammer and chisel might mar more than 
they made." 

Gimli answered with such eloquence, that he just knew his father would 
be on the floor laughing now. He had not believed dwarf to be capable 
of such moving words. But Legolas was not laughing…for in his words, 
he saw hope.

{Hope with a dwarf? Your father would be so proud, princeling…}

"You move me, Gimli," said Legolas. "I have never heard you speak like 
this before. Almost you make me regret that I have not seen these 
caves. Come! Let us make this bargain-if we both return safe out of 
the perils that await us, we will journey for a while together. You 
shall visit Fangorn with me, and then I will come with you to see 
Helm's Deep."

"That would not be the way of return that I should choose," said Gimli 
carefully, noticing the new light entering pools of blue. "But I will 
endure Fangorn, if I have your promise to come back to the caves and 
share their wonder with me."

"You have my promise," said Legolas, as a weight was lifted from his 
shoulders. "But alas! Now we must leave behind both cave and wood for 
a while: See! We are coming to the end of the trees. How far is it to 
Isengard, Gandalf?"

"About fifteen leagues, as the crows of Saruman make it" said Gandalf. 
The wizard, not having missed one detail of the conversation that had 
just transpired, was able to see some light at the end of the 
tunnel…yet it seemed dim: "five from the mouth of Deeping-coomb to the 
Fords: and ten more from there to the gates of Isengard. But we shall 
not ride all the way this night."

"And when we come there, what shall we see?" asked Gimli. "You may 
know, but I cannot guess."

{I tell what you will see, little prince. You will see your future, 
your doom…}

"I do not know myself for certain," answered the wizard calmly. "I was 
there at nightfall yesterday, but much may have happened since." He 
paused and inwardly smiled, glancing at the smiling elf "Yet I think 
that you will not say that the journey was in vain - not though the 
Glittering Caves of Aglarond be left behind." 

Finally, they reached the end of trees. Legolas looked back to them 
with regret, knowing he would not be listening to their song in a long 
time to come. Suddenly, his keen gaze detected something so 
surprising; he was unable to retain his cry. "There are eyes!" he 
said. "Eyes looking out from the shadows of the boughs! I never saw 
such eyes before."

{Delusional}

The others, surprised by his cry, halted and turned; but Legolas 
started to ride back.

{If I hear real voices, then I see real eyes} he thought angrily, 
finally answering the taunting voice that had mocked him for the 
entire ride.

"No, no!" Cried Gimli. "Do as you please in your madness, but let me 
first get down from this horse! I wish to see no eyes!" 

Aragorn was biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Now that 
was the elf he knew. That was his dear friend.

"Stay, Legolas Greenleaf!" said Gandalf. "Do not go back into the 
wood, not yet! Now is not your time." Even as he spoke, there came 
forward out of the trees three strange shapes.

With wide eyes the elf halted and watched, even as he felt Gimli get 
impossible tense behind him. The shapes were enormous with long limbs 
and many fingers. They gazed towards the north, ignoring the riders 
that stood gaping at them. Suddenly they lifted their long hands to 
their mouths, and sent forth ringing calls, clear as notes of a horn, 
but more musical and various. The calls were answered; and turning 
again, the riders saw other creatures of the same kind approaching, 
striding through the grass from the North. The riders cried out, and 
some even attempted to draw their swords, but Gandalf advised them 
against it.

Legolas stared in wonder and glee, for he believed to know what these 
creatures were, and ever since his childhood, all those centuries ago, 
he had desired to see them. Now he could barely believe his eyes. 

{You are still a child}

The Ents paid them no mind as they strode into the wood and vanished 
from their sight. Gimli let out a sigh of relief at his back, and 
Legolas laughed. If he did not have Aragorn's eyes on him he would 
have rode after them, with or without the dwarf at his back. Fighting 
his impulse to ride towards the wood, Legolas nodded to Aragorn and 
listened half-heartedly to the conversation going on between Gandalf 
and Théoden. 

The company turned then away from the Coomb and from the wood and took 
the road towards the Fords. Legolas followed reluctantly, while Gimli 
patted his shoulder in mock comfort. Legolas glared at him over his 
shoulder. The sun had set, already it had sunk behind the rim of the 
world; but as they rode out from the shadow of the hills and looked 
west to the Gap of Rohan the sky was still red, and a burning light 
was under the floating clouds. The company rode at an easy pace, as 
the moon ascended the skies and dark fell around them. 

They had ridden for some four hours from the branching of the roads 
when they drew near to the Fords. Grief along with the sense of losses 
and death weighted heavily on this land, as Legolas looked around in 
silence: This had been a battlefield that was for certain. Théoden's 
words later confirmed it. Following Gandalf's lead the riders passed 
through the sorrow filled fields, and Legolas ignored as best as he 
could the cries of the grieving nature. 

{You hide from the battle that you know you must fight, little one. 
You ignore my presence as if I did not exist…but I do, princeling, I 
exist. And I shall be with you beyond the day in which you receive 
your punishment…for you shall receive it soon}

"…That wolf-riders and plunderers might ride nonetheless to Meduseld, 
while it was undefended. But now I think you need not fear: you will 
find your house to welcome your return." Gandalf was saying "And glad 
shall I be to see it again," answered King Théoden, "though brief now, 
I doubt not, shall be my abiding there."

{Keep your silence, foul one; I am tired to listen to your ramblings. 
I shall hear thy words no longer} {Brave words for such a coward, 
little one}

With that the company said farewell to the island and the mound, and 
passed over the river, and climbed the further bank. Then they rode 
on, glad to have left the mournful Fords. As they went the howling of 
the wolves broke out anew. It brought a strange kind of calm to 
Legolas' mind. They rode now more swiftly, and by midnight the Fords 
were nearly five leagues behind. Then they halted, ending their 
night's journey, for the King was weary. They were come to the feet of 
the Misty Mountains, and the long arms of Nan Curunír stretched down 
to meet them. Dark was the scenery, and darker Legolas' thoughts 
became. 

{You cannot send me to be quiet, Prince of Mirkwood. I am more than 
you are…I am stronger than you are. And I am the one in real control 
of you. You cannot send your mind to be quiet, for you mind is what I 
have become}

Ignoring the conversation going on about the seemingly burning 
Wizard's Vale, Legolas focused his mind in only one task. The camp. 
They camped beside the bed of the Isen River; it was still silent and 
empty. Some of them slept a little. But late in the night the watchmen 
cried out, and all awoke. 

Legolas jumped up from the ground and looked around them in alarm. His 
blood froze at the sight. . The moon was gone. Stars were shining 
above; but over the ground there crept a darkness blacker than the 
night. On both sides of the river it rolled towards them, going 
northward.

"Stay where you are!" cried Gandalf. "Draw no weapons! Wait! And it 
will pass you by!"

But Legolas saw beyond the mist that gathered about them. He saw the 
shapes, the bodies and the faces…

{Here is your future little one}

Voices they all heard, whisperings and groanings and an endless 
rustling sigh; the earth shook under them. But Legolas heard beyond 
that.

"Death" "Blood" "My blood" "My soul" "My light" "My life" "They are 
gone" "My daughter…" "My brother…" "What have I done?" "Betrayed" 
"Tortured" "A shadow I have become" "Your fault…" "My fault…" "Murder" 
"Cruelty" "Unfair" "Injustice" "Traitor" "My price…"

The agonized cries went on around him; in a gloom so intense he could 
not see his own two feet. But he could see their blood; he could see 
their faces…

{You see it, then?}

Wait… Nay… It was an illusion! 

Shaking his head in anger, fright and confusion. Legolas closed his 
eyes tightly, and focused his mind on the tales of his childhood, of 
the gentle voices of the shepherds of the trees. The sweet song that 
they called their language…he could feel nature now. Not death, not 
grief…

When he reopened his eyes the shadows were slowly getting past them, 
and he no longer heard their cries nor did he see their faces. For 
they had never been there. At last, when the last wall of shadow 
passed him by, he could hear the tired sigh of a long life that had 
revenged the unfairness. That had slain the orcs. 

His face pale beyond what was normal. His eyes wide like one who has 
faced a Balrog, Legolas sat in the ground. 

{My future?}



His eyes were dying.

That was the first thing Aragorn noticed at the first light of dawn, 
when he looked over to his elven friend, who sat in the ground looking 
terribly pale. He seemed to be thinking about something very 
important…

But lately 'thinking' had become very dangerous for this particular 
elf.

Images of death and terror had attacked Legolas, wave after wave, each 
getting more horrific than the previous. The terrifying cries that had 
at first seemed to come from the shapes of the night before, now came 
from his mind…and they sounded nothing like a hallucination. Yet, his 
face had remained impassive with such terrible thoughts, for only two 
words kept repeating themselves over and over inside the Prince's 
thoughts, mingled with his scenes brought up by his betraying mind.

{My future}

Blood 

{My future} 

His friends lay slain on the ground 

{My future}

Eternal torture 

{My future}

Betrayal 

{My future}

Terribly true images of Boromir's murder 

{My future}

Gandalf's grief filled eyes 

{My future}

The disapproving gaze of his father

{My future}

The terribly clear image of the dark face of an orc

{My future}

The hobbits were slain at the feet of the strangest of beings…an orc 
with a blue gaze…

Legolas could do nothing to hide his dying gaze, just as he could not 
avoid Aragorn's worried looks for much longer. It was a matter of 
time… that much was obvious. 

At the call at down, the elf had risen silently and moved towards his 
horse to depart. He mounted and helped Gimli to mount at his back, 
refusing the dwarf's offering of a red apple with a shake of his 
golden head. Not even the dreaded voice had spoken to him that 
morning, seemingly content with Legolas' thoughts. After several 
futile attempts at conversation, Gimli and Gandalf had given up, as 
Aragorn observed his friend from a distance while they passed through 
the now destroyed Ring of Isengard. But neither that sight nor the 
very Orthanc, the citadel of Saruman, had caused any reaction from 
stormy elven eyes. 

At the moment, the company stood before the destroyed entrance. Doors 
lay hurled and twisted on the ground. And all about, stone, cracked 
and splintered into countless jagged shards, was scattered far and 
wide, or piled in ruinous heaps. With shock they all gazed around 
themselves, but their eyes did not fool them. 

The power of Saruman seemed to have been overthrown. 

Aragorn sighed in a strange combination of worry for his friend, and 
excitement brought by this now ruined place. The tower of Orthanc was 
the only thing intact.

Legolas looked around in disinterest. He should be staring with wide 
eyes. He should be glancing towards underneath the archway, where 
among the ruins, two small figures could be seen. But he looked 
around, and nothing but two words registered.

{My future}

The words did not made sense on his mind; they brought no light of 
understanding with them. They simply, for some unknown reason, shone 
with finality and truth in the elf's thoughts. Whatever he saw could 
be applied to those words.

This destroyed place could very well be his future.

Gimli tensed on his seat on the horse when he felt the elf do so.

"What is it, Legolas? Have you felt some danger? Is this some wizardry 
of Saruman?" Gimli hissed lowly, and for the first time in that day, 
Legolas grinned. But it held none of the hope it had held on the 
previous day.

"Nay, my friend, I sense no danger" said Legolas 'I sense my future' 
he added silently

It was then that the two small figures registered in Legolas' muddled 
brain, and the few lines of coherent thought left in him, froze. His 
entire body froze, in fact, as his eyes came to rest on the figures. 
One lay asleep as the other lazily blew smoke rings into the air. 

{My past} {You deeds} The terrible whisper of his 'other' voice among 
the earlier silence chilled his bones. 

The one who seemed to be a young man suddenly became aware of their 
presence on this place, and stood up to bow low before them. Legolas' 
eyes widened, and his heart sped up, as his thought began confusing 
him again.

{Were they not hiding?} {They should be playing…} {Did they grew weary 
of this game? It has been too long…} {Did Boromir found them?} {Why 
did no one told me?} {I should do something…I missed them…}

{They did not miss you}

Indeed, it seemed that way, for the "young man" was addressing the 
King of the Mark, and Éomer, without even sparing a glance in their 
direction. 

{Perhaps they…perhaps they despise me now}

Hollow eyes looked on as elven ears barely registered the sound of the 
"young man's" voice, as Aragorn kept glancing from the one who spoke, 
back to the elf.

"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" the young one was saying. "We are 
the door wardens. Meriadoc, son of Saradoc is my name; and my 
companion, who, alas! Is overcome with weariness" - he gave his 
companion a dig with his foot - "is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the 
house of Took. Far in the North is our home. The Lord Saruman is 
within; but at the moment he is closeted with one Wormtongue, or 
doubtless he would be here to welcome such honourable guests."

{I have found them! By the Valar, I have found my dear friends! The 
game is over and it is time to return…} {Did they wished to be 
found…by you? Why if they can leave this place, they stayed? Do you 
think the game is over, little Prince? It is far from it}

Grey human eyes detected the slight cringe in the elf's features, in 
what should be a joyous occasion.

"Doubtless he would!" laughed Gandalf at the hobbit's words. 

His wise voice was barely heard once more, as dulled elven senses gave 
way slowly to a stronger force; Legolas had let his mind wander, had 
let his eyes go unfocussed for he was weary of pretending to be his 
normal self. Now the elf panicked when he suddenly felt his own 
mind…no…this 'presence' growing stronger by the minute on his own 
thoughts, making him weaker, feeding on his weakness, feeding on his 
fear as he was slowly but surely moved to the background. He was 
losing ground…he was literally loosing his mind…

Merry answered gravely to Gandalf's inquiry of Saruman, and spoke of 
an Ent. Legolas held on with all his remaining will, with every ounce 
of strength left in his body. The elf fought to grab onto any word, 
any thought that would give him control. He begged silently for anyone 
to call for him, anyone to bring him back. He saw Aragorn open his 
mouth to speak at the corner of his eye, and he prayed whatever he 
would say would save him. Dark his vision was becoming, when finally 
there was a voice.

"And what about your companions? What about Legolas and me?" it was 
Gimli who spoke first, unable to contain himself longer. Legolas, 
hearing his name through the fog dulling his senses, fought the most 
staining battle of his existence. Gaining inch by inch a small part of 
his thoughts back. His relief was immense when he realized he could 
hear Gimli's words clearly.

"You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool-pated truants! A fine hunt 
you have led us! Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle 
and death, to rescue you! And here we find you feasting and idling-and 
smoking! Smoking! Where did you come by the weed, you villains? Hammer 
and tongs! I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst. 
It will be a marvel!"

A smile of triumph gazed Legolas' face when he could hear every single 
word spoken, and the sudden force that had attacked him was dimmed. He 
could still feel it however…merely resting.

"You speak for me, Gimli," laughed Legolas then. "Though I would 
sooner learn how they came by the wine."

{Not that I can drink it without loosing my thin grasp on control…} 
{Control? When have you ever had control Princeling?} {Now I have it} 
{You believe so}

Gandalf and Théoden were soon to go and speak with Treebeard, the very 
Fangorn. Left behind by them, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and 
Pippin went for food into the destroyed place that was once Saruman's. 
They eat hungrily and even Legolas managed to get a few things down, 
for he had not eaten since the previous day. Had the hobbits known 
that, they would be horrified, the elf mused as he looked into the 
little one's faces.

{They are alive…} {Not because of you} {They are here} {While they do 
not wish to be}

The attack on his mind, which had nearly thrown him aside with no 
fight, had left him fearful, for he did not know where it had come 
from. Was it the voice that tormented him…or something else 
altogether? It could be nothing…it could be exhaustion…Legolas sighed, 
he was lying to himself once more. He tried to go outside of this 
stone place, to be on his own, but Aragorn followed him outside, as 
did everyone else. Legolas sat in silence for a few minutes as the 
others smoked, but soon grew restless and began to sing softly under 
his breath.

Songs of strength and forgotten elven battles that his father had some 
day sung to him came from his lips, yet the memories that came with 
them soon overwhelmed him and at last he sat up. "Come now!" he said. 
"Time wears on, and the mists are blowing away, or would if you 
strange folk did not wreathe yourselves in smoke. What of the tale?"

Pippin began the tale, Merry then continued, and between both hobbits 
they spoke for what to them seemed like hours, relating stories worthy 
of songs. From the orcs, to Treebeard, to Quickbeam, to the water of 
the Ents, then to how both hobbits had grown taller which exposed 
Gimli's amazement and Legolas' slight amusement. Then came the council 
of the Ents, the march towards Isengard, and how the people of 
Isengard had marched away, towards another war, before the Ents and 
the newly arrived 'Huorns', as the Ents called the dark silent ones of 
their kind, could attack them. The Huorns had gone after the orcs, 
while the Ents brought down Saruman's citadel in less time that was 
thought possible. Then the hobbits spoke of Saruman's escape into 
Orthanc, and Gandalf's previous meeting with both hobbits, and with 
Treebeard. 

Legolas listened to all of it, and he concentrated on every word, for 
he knew that if he let his guard down, he would be paying too high of 
a price…his body, and his life…his mind and his sanity.

Hours later, the tale ended, and with their share of questions 
answered, and some new ones raised, the hobbits, man, dwarf and elf, 
changed the subject of their talk into other matters, rather than the 
past.

"Ah well, whatever evil was afoot is over now, I hope; or else it is 
beyond our reach at present," said Aragorn. "Yet I think I shall 
mention it to Gandalf, small matter though it may seem among his great 
affairs."

"I wonder what he is doing," said Merry. "The afternoon is getting on. 
Let us go and look round! You can enter Isengard now at any rate, 
Strider, if you want to. But it is not a very cheerful sight." 

Legolas sighed and stood up from his seat, following his friends in 
silence. The hobbits had not really spoken to him while on their tale, 
and Aragorn and Gimli had not glanced at him during the whole of the 
conversation, so engrossed had they been. Shaking his head, he tried 
to vanish the dreadful voice as it whispered an anger filled mantra 
into his blurred thoughts.

{They hate you.} {They despise you.} {They blame you.} {They know 
you.} {They are right.}

Walking through the ruined tunnel they stood upon a heap of stones, 
gazing at the dark rock of Orthanc, and its many windows, a menace 
still in the desolation that lay all about it. While they stood there, 
Legolas began to feel something new…and nothing pleasant…a new kind of 
attack it seemed to the elven warrior.

{What is happening to me?}

Before, his thoughts had been blurred and confusing, but now…now as he 
stood glancing ahead in silence, his thoughts were too many and too 
fast for him to understand. His always quick mind was now a resting 
place for too many thoughts, too many ideas, and not one thing to 
focus on. Even feelings were in him battling, for he could feel fear 
bubbling up within him, at the same time he felt euphoria. 

{Is this truly I?}

He wanted to jump; as much he wanted to weep, and he wanted nothing 
more than to be back at home, for the trees of his home would be the 
best place that he could die on. Fighting back the urge to laugh at 
nothing, Legolas looked ahead and noticed the approaching familiar 
figures. 

"There is Gandalf, and Théoden and his men!" said Legolas. "Let us go 
and meet them!" He jumped from his place, and with graceful step he 
went ahead, but a voice slowed his pace. "Walk warily!" said Merry. 
"There are loose slabs that may tilt up and throw you down into a pit, 
if you don't take care."

Forcing his legs to stop, Legolas nodded and walked warily with the 
rest of them. But the elf wished to run, and to jump, and to lie down 
to rest at the same time. He wished to laugh at himself, while he 
wished he could cry for what he had become. 

{You see, Princeling? I could still help you…I could still save you 
from yourself little one…}

The riders, seeing them approach, halted under the shadow of the rock 
and waited for them. Gandalf rode forward to meet them, with a short 
sympathetic glance towards the oblivious elf. The wizard told them all 
of his plans to speak with Saruman and he sighed when they all 
followed him towards Orthanc. When the silent company reached the foot 
of the tower, Gandalf descended from his horse.

{I wish to ride…} {When was the last time I eat?}{What is Gandalf 
doing here?}{Is it over?} {Father? I am tired. May I go to bed?}{I 
think I should not be here…}{What is here?}{Her hair was long, her 
limbs were white, and fair she was and free; and in the wind she went 
as light as leaf of linden-tree…}

"I will go up," said Gandalf. "I have been in Orthanc and I know my 
peril." "And I too will go up," said the king. "I am old, and fear no 
peril any more. I wish to speak with the enemy who has done me so much 
wrong. Éomer shall come with me, and see that my aged feet do not 
falter." "As you will," said Gandalf. He rested his eyes on Legolas' 
for the shortest of seconds, and realized with a start how 
unbelievably young and lost the elf seemed "Aragorn shall come with 
me." the wizard went on "Let the others await at the foot of the 
stairs. They will hear and see enough, if there is anything to hear or 
see."

"Nay!" Said Gimli. "Legolas and I wish for a closer view. We alone 
here represent our kindred. We also will come behind."

{We do?}{We will?}{We?}{Who are we?}

Gandalf sighed, and after looking at the stubborn dwarf, nodded. "Come 
then!" said Gandalf, and with that he climbed the steps, and Théoden 
went beside him. 

Legolas followed their lead, confused and amused. He thought among 
another ten thousand things, that the hobbits looked rather funny 
among all of them… they were so small…but now taller…hmm had they 
grown up? Were they children?

{I can help you Princeling} {You can?} {Aye} {And who is 'you?'} {You} 
{And who am I? Am I a prince?}{I like the forest; I do not like this 
place}{I wish to be a prince of the forest!}{Where am I even 
going?}{Who is the man ahead?}{Who is the one in white?}{Who is the 
one with the funny ears…wait…that is me…what am I doing out there?}

Laughter rang on his mind, and like a child Legolas looked around, 
expecting to see someone laughing. But no, many people were talking to 
an old man who was above, in a window. The man seemed strange to 
Legolas, and he decided not to like him. But then he forgot his 
decision, and found himself staring at the one everyone was calling 
'Saruman'. The man was speaking in a sweet voice, only to then hiss 
like a serpent. Time and time again Legolas decided not to like him, 
to then forget and keep staring. This 'Saruman' looked at him during a 
moment of silence, and his sneer made Legolas shiver. But then, this 
man in white…he knew him…yes! Gandalf, Gandalf…Gandalf said something 
and the other old man went away. Legolas shrugged to himself, not 
having heard a word of what had been spoken. Suddenly, a crystal ball 
was thrown from a high window, and almost fell on the head of the man 
in white…his name…Gandalf! Yes, Gandalf, almost fell on him. Legolas 
decided he rather liked Gandalf, so he felt angry when he was almost 
hit with that ball. But then, he also felt like laughing. The aim of 
whoever threw that ball was terrible…

{Come little one let me help you…} {Father?} His inner voice sounded 
as childish as his thoughts and actions were beginning to be, Legolas 
vaguely realized. {Nay, little one…} his other voice sounded mocking… 
{Mother?} {Nay…} {Then nay!} {What is wrong with you, Princeling?} 
{You! You are wrong with me} And then his voice was normal as he 
managed to fight down the 'presence' he could once more feel fighting 
against him. 

He accompanied the rest of the company down the stairs, and when they 
reached the bottom, Legolas froze and stared in awe, for there was 
Ents there. 

{Ents?}

His surroundings and his present crashed back down on the Wood elf 
with staggering force. Legolas blinked slowly as Gandalf introduced 
them, and the Ent spoke with Aragorn, then Gimli, then turned to him. 

"So you have come all the way from Mirkwood, my good Elf? A very great 
forest it used to be!"

Images assaulted him with the Ent's words: Trees and the golden light 
of the sun…its delicious rays warming him as he played in his home 
when he had been younger. Silver elven laughter rang clear on his 
memory, even as this time he felt two ancient eyes observing his 
games. 

"And still is," answered Legolas, surprised; yet pleased that his 
voice was his usual. "But not so great that we who dwell there ever 
tire of seeing new trees. I should dearly love to journey in Fangorn's 
Wood. I scarcely passed beyond the eaves of it, and I did not wish to 
turn back." Treebeard's eyes gleamed with pleasure, and Legolas felt 
like laughing…or screaming…whichever came. "I hope you may have your 
wish, ere the hills be much older," the Ent said. "I will come, if I 
have the fortune," said Legolas. "I have made a bargain with my friend 
that, if all goes well, we will visit Fangorn together - by your 
leave." "Any Elf that comes with you will be welcome," said Treebeard.

Laughter attempted to escape Legolas as useless images of foolishness 
came to his thoughts. Legolas could never see Gimli as an elf…with a 
soft sigh Legolas closed his eyes for a moment… he was loosing his 
mind…

"The friend I speak of is not an Elf," said Legolas; "I mean Gimli, 
Glóin's son here." Gimli bowed low, and the axe slipped from his belt 
and clattered on the ground.

He almost lost it then, and a smile appeared on Legolas' face. He 
wished to laugh so badly…but then he also wished to cry for the bad 
fortune…and then he also wished to scream for the heck of it…and he 
wished he could be himself once more…

"Hoom, hm! Ah now," said Treebeard, looking dark-eyed at the dwarf. "A 
dwarf and an axe-bearer! Hoom! I have good will to Elves; but you ask 
much. This is a strange friendship!" "Strange it may seem," said 
Legolas; "'but while Gimli lives I shall not come to Fangorn alone. 
His axe is not for trees, but for orc-necks, O Fangorn, Master of 
Fangorn's Wood. Forty-two he hewed in the battle." "Hoo! Come now!" 
said Treebeard. "That is a better story! Well, well, things will go as 
they will; and there is no need to hurry to meet them. But now we must 
part for a while. Day is drawing to an end, yet Gandalf says you must 
go ere nightfall, and the Lord of the Mark is eager for his own 
house." "Yes, we must go, and go now," said Gandalf, throwing a 
concerned look over to the elf. A soft laugh escaped Legolas then, and 
only one heard it. Aragorn. The man looked at Legolas and the elf 
looked away, still grinning…almost feverishly. Legolas spoke no more 
until they marched forward once more. But his thoughts were never 
quiet.

{Gimli dropped his axe}{Forty-two orcs? I killed more, never told, 
never told anyone…}{did I kill more orcs?}{Never told, never 
told}{Where are we going?}{Who is his cursed voice?} 

Laughter rang in his thoughts once more, as a mocking whisper silenced 
the rest of his confused ideas for a few moments.

{I am you; Princeling, and you shall be hearing more of me}

Legolas closed his eyes in defeat when the company halted their 
advance on the land. They halted in a green-footed dale, beneath the 
Thorn bushes that grew thick upon the low banks. The sweet-scented 
earth brought to the hearts of all, the feeling of the approaching 
spring. But Legolas did not realize how the nature around them 
welcomed the company. 

The fight was becoming too much for his overloaded senses. 

He could not think straight, he half listened to the things being 
said, and his feelings were battling inside of his chest at every 
second. He tried to force his mind away from distraction, force it to 
focus upon the task at hand, to focus upon the increasing number of 
worried looks Aragorn was sending him, to focus upon the day, the 
sky…anything…but the second he managed to focus on one thing, his 
thoughts flew to another direction. This was a curse…it was the 
cruelest of torments for one who had always managed to keep some shred 
of control, and had fought for it every step of the way.

{This is what feels like to loose, then} he thought sadly, but soon 
another thousand incoherent thoughts formed, erasing the previous one.

They had rode away from Isengard when the sun was sinking behind the 
long western arm of the mountains. Gandalf had taken Merry behind him, 
and Aragorn had taken Pippin. While the wizard and the young hobbit 
spoke quietly, Legolas had rode in silence; barely aware that his eyes 
betrayed the inner chaos he was living. Aragorn had made a decision on 
this day; he was going to confront Legolas once more. From the 
determined look on Gimli's face he had reached the same decision. This 
had been going on for far too long, and now the elf barely spoke or 
barely seemed to even be aware of his surroundings. So it was when the 
company halted and everyone wearily descended from their mounts that 
the ranger approached his friend, followed closely by a very annoyed 
dwarf. 

Legolas dismounted gracefully and tried to loose himself on the 
preparations of this eve's camp. Walking swiftly and blindly between 
the men he sought out a silent corner and sat there when he found it. 
The song of nature reached his ears and he sighed trying desperately 
to control his wayward thoughts. Maybe if he just accepted the help of 
nature and embraced the quiet of this small corner he could…

But the calming silence did not last long. "Legolas?" a familiar voice 
asked, and his blue eyes opened slowly. He was afraid to answer the 
man that stood in front of him, afraid of what he would say. If he 
could not control his thoughts, could he control his words? "Aye?" he 
answered neutrally, as his mortal friend sat next to him. Only then 
did he see Gimli standing a few paces ahead, and the dwarf too sat on 
the ground. 

"Tell me what is haunting you, my friend. Your eyes betray you on each 
day, and for too much time has this been going on. Your thoughts are 
troubled and we would like to help you" Aragorn said quietly, staring 
into the elven gaze that met his hesitantly. The elf shook his head 
and closed his eyes. With a sigh he opened his mouth to speak, and 
closed it once more. His thoughts were more than merely troubled. They 
were insane!

{What am I doing here? What is here? Mirkwood Greenwood Rivendell 
Lothlórien Gondor…} {Legolas Lasgalen Laeglass Aragorn Estel Hope 
Greenleaf Gimli Théoden Gandalf Merry Pippin Meriadoc Peregrin Elrond 
Glorfindel Arwen Sauron Mithrandir Galadriel Haldir Orophin Rúmil 
Boromir…who am I?} {Maybe if I jump I will fall, perhaps if I hide I 
will be found, then if I cry I would be comforted, maybe if I talk 
they would worry and if I scream I would be noticed…}

"Crazy elf!" Gimli growled, "Stop your staring into nothingness and 
answer our questions! What is it that has been haunting you for all 
this time? What is it that has made you retreat into yourself?"

Legolas looked up in confusion, and his rational said just knew he was 
about so say something incoherent. His eyes stared into Gimli's and 
then stared into Aragorn's to then frown towards the ground. "But I 
did not say!" he exclaimed in surprise.

Aragorn stared at him in silence, as did Gimli. Their twin expressions 
of confusion made the elf laugh quietly. 

"I did not say, I did not fall, I did not scream, I did not cry, I did 
not reach you, I did nothing, I am fighting alone and I am loosing but 
I did nothing to make you worry or to make you notice me or to make 
you comfort me. It makes no sense," Legolas said with a small smile. 
"That you would try to do all of those"

"What are you talking about, Legolas?" Aragorn said slowly, as if 
speaking with a child, and Legolas laughed again at his tone. 

"I am much older than you Aragorn, do not treat me as a child. Even if 
by elven standards I am not exactly 'ancient' I am indeed your 
elder…but wait I am Sindar not an Eldar…ah, do not mind that. Do not 
speak as if I was a child…you did speak right?"

Gimli stared at Legolas with a startled expression. Had the elf lost 
his mind? "Legolas, stop rambling so, you are making no sense…" 
"Neither are you" the elf supplied "Legolas…" The ranger began only to 
be interrupted by another laugh "Aragorn…" "Look, Prince of Mirkwood…" 
"What must I look at, heir to the throne of Gondor?" "What has 
happened to you?" "I think I might have lost" Legolas laughed, "You 
see, I was trying to win, but I was so tired…and now I lost…or maybe I 
won? I forgot what I was trying to win"

"Legolas, look into my eyes" Aragorn said hurriedly and the elf rolled 
his eyes

"Yes, oh King of men" He said with a sigh and met the ranger's gaze. 
Aragorn's eyes widened when he saw the storm playing in those blue 
orbs. The familiar glint of his friend ever present there, yet dimmed 
as if by a fog…as if by…magic?

Legolas tilted his head to the side, staring at Aragorn, and then he 
tilted it to the other side, his golden hair following his movements 
over his shoulder blades. Then Legolas began to laugh, closing his 
right eye to then open it and close the left one. "You know, Aragorn, 
your eyes change color!" he announced with a smile. 

"Legolas focus. Just try to focus on me, all right? Try to focus on 
something…" 

There was a moment of silence and then Legolas sighed sadly "You think 
I have not tried this? All day I have been fighting for control and 
yet, my thoughts stray so easily that…" for a second his voice sounded 
sorrowful, yet his normal tone was calming to his friends. Legolas was 
still there. But then the elf laughed again "I see your eyes turn 
blue, then gray, then blue again, and then if I keep staring my sight 
blurs" 

Gimli, coming out of his silent stupor, and encouraged by the moment 
of normalcy the elf had just shown met the elf's gaze. Coming up with 
a plan he spoke deliberately slowly. "Legolas Thranduilion you have 
indeed lost your mind. What good can a lunatic elf like you do on this 
quest? It is not like you will be able to battle or anything else…much 
as a child you seem to me now" 

Aragorn cringed at the words. He knew that was a tender spot on his 
friend. He hated to be treated as incapable of handling himself, just 
as he hated being compared to a child. His father had done enough of 
that when the elf had been younger. 

Legolas' gaze went cold as ice, and his eyes could have frozen Mordor 
when he turned them on the dwarf. "What have you just said?" his voice 
hissed "you think me so dependant now? You think me weak? Very well, 
my *friend* I shall prove you that my knives and bow still work as 
they should…" "Legolas, do not…" but a shake of the dwarf's head made 
Aragorn stop. The ranger was worried, in this state of mind; Legolas 
could be very dangerous, indeed… "I have no intention of battling 
against a weakling such as you are now. Forget it, master elf, you 
better head towards your home now" With those parting words, Gimli 
turned away from the elf and began walking away. With a sound of alarm 
Aragorn warned him, and he was only vaguely shocked when two arrows 
landed directly at his feet. He looked up to meet Legolas' gaze, who 
now stood a few paces ahead. Damned be the speed of the elves…

"Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood?" he said solemnly, meeting the cold eyes 
that were normally filled with laughter and song. 

"What?" the elf hissed back at him, even his voice betraying the anger 
he now held.

"Welcome back" Gimli said with a grin. Legolas glared and moved 
towards him. Gimli began to fear he had merely trigged a crueler side 
to the gentle elf but when he approached, the dwarf could see the 
mischievous twinkle on the once again warm eyes. "Indeed" Legolas 
said, bending as if to pick up his arrows, only to kick Gimli's feet 
from beneath him, and then walk to settle once more on the spot he had 
vacated earlier, next to the now grinning Aragorn.

Gimli growled, and stood up from the floor. Only to chuckle to himself 
when he saw the smile on Legolas' face. "I thank you, friend Gimli," 
the elf said after a moment, his face once again serious "emotion 
seems to be the key to this…curse…that plagues me"

"Do you know what is it, Legolas? What has happened?"

{If I told you it was the voice inside my head, Estel, you would 
probably behead me with your sword on the spot} {Aye, he most probably 
would, princeling} {Get away…you were not here…} {You were doing such 
a fine job yourself, but now I have indeed come back to help you} {To 
HELP me, you say?} {Aye…to help you, little one}



Legolas' met his friend's gaze and shook his head solemnly. "Nay, 
Aragorn, I know not what plagues me" The ranger nodded and after a 
moment of silence, sighed. "Perhaps Gandalf would know how to help 
you…"

"NAY!"

The shout surprised both human and dwarf, who stared in silence at 
their elven comrade. Legolas seemed surprised himself, for his eyes 
were wide.

{Nay, not again, let me out!}

"Do not trouble Mithrandir with such things, Aragorn, I shall be able 
to figure this one out. Do not worry…it cannot be too serious" The elf 
said firmly, and the determined glint on his gaze hid the missing 
spark of life in them. Aragorn looked at him hard, and then sighed. 
"As you wish, Legolas, but if this shall happen again, I will tell 
him. You were lucky Gimli's plan had a good result…you could have 
killed him if it had not" The elf nodded in silence and both mortals 
stood up from the ground to seek rest. It was not possible to do so 
for Legolas…

{Aye, Princeling, you could have killed him!} {Let me out, let me out, 
do not leave me in the dark, I do not wish to be in the dark…} 
{Weakling, and you call yourself a Prince. Afraid of the dark are you? 
Afraid of being alone, are you? Afraid of life… are you not, 
princeling? Afraid to live and be hurt?}

Beyond any shield, any mask and any presence, the dying spark of life 
in elven eyes shuddered, as said eyes widened on a stoic face. 
Legolas' breathing quickened, as his senses grew suddenly sharp.

{Well, you must face your fears, little one. Why do you not live a 
little, now? Feel the life and tell me if you fear it…tell me if you 
wish to be alive, to be outside. Really live on this night…and then 
let me know}

"Nay…" Legolas whispered softly. The whisper was swallowed by the 
thousand sounds around him.

The rustling of clothing as the men in the camp moved, their 
breathing, their heartbeat, their whispers, their conversations, their 
every detectable sound…the horses, the nature, the trees, the sky, the 
voices…so many voices at once…

"Do you think we shall come back alive…what if…?" "Good night my 
father" "Eru give us victory in battle…" "Do you want some food? I 
have some bread left" "Everyone, rest! We have a long day on the 
morrow" "We will defeat the army, you shall see" "Those orcs good for 
nothing, they have no more brains than they have good looks" "What is 
it with that guy? He never approaches us…"

He knew none of those voices… they were overwhelming him…and those 
were just the sounds. He could feel the smell of the earth, of the 
sweat, of the road, of the trees…he could see until the last of the 
leaves on the last tree on his eyesight, and he could discern the drop 
of sweat that traveled down the forehead of the soldier that stood at 
a fifteen-foot distance. 

He was scared, to put it mildly. 

{What is going on…what is this…} {Life!}

He made a conscious effort to recognize the familiar sounds, to 
identify the known voices, the known sounds and the known patters of 
breathing. Slowly he managed to calm himself down, to enjoy the now 
louder sound of the song of nature…

…And it was then that he heard him…and it was then that he saw him

Pippin had walked softly to where Gandalf lay. At first Legolas saw 
him back down a bit, but then draw forward once more, as if against 
his will, the hobbit crept up again from behind the wizard's head. 
Mithrandir was rolled in a blanket, with his cloak spread over the 
top; and close beside him, between his right side and his bent arm, 
there was a hummock, something round…

{Ah, yes} Legolas thought {The Stone…By Elbereth!}

He tried to get to Pippin, to stop him, but his overloaded senses made 
of getting up quite a task. His surroundings blurred suddenly and he 
swayed on his feet. He reached out a hand towards where the hobbit now 
sat with the stone on his knees and his cloak around him but no sound 
came from his mouth. Pippin's increasing breathing reached his senses, 
and even as he fell on the ground once more, he tried to get up and 
stop him. Taking a deep breath, Legolas tried once more, and managed 
it, moving towards the hobbit that sat paralyzed by what was most 
likely fear. Taking one step towards the small form, he froze.

Legolas was held captive by what he saw on the stone.

Then Pippin cried out and the camp was alerted to his crime. Legolas, 
his eyes open wide, sat once more on the ground.

What he had seen was not what he now could hear Pippin relating to 
Mithrandir. He had seen Sauron…he had seen the flaming eye…and it had 
been calling for him in a familiar voice he could not place.

Without thinking he stood up and walked towards where the rest of the 
company was staring in silence at the talk between Gandalf and Pippin. 
Legolas looked into the now covered form of the Seeing Stone. And the 
haunting voice he had heard would not leave his thoughts

{Legolas Son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood. Come now, come closer, 
nothing to fear on this side. Nothing to fear on the ever-present 
darkness, come now, come closer…}

Legolas shook his head, and with effort, controlled his ragged 
breathing. Schooling his features neutral as he saw Mithrandir 
approaching Aragorn. The wizard gave him a passing glance, which 
seemed suspicious to the keen eyes of Legolas. Gandalf asked Aragorn 
to guard the Stone, and to the surprise of all, uncovered it to 
present it to the heir of the throne. Legolas was not prepared. The 
eye was there and it was staring at him, it was fixed on him, looking 
inside of him, stripping him bare…it was calling him…

{Legolas Thranduilion, teli…} (Legolas son of Thranduil, come)

His senses slowly dimmed, slowly turned off until they were back to 
normal. He felt deaf and blind and mute and numb for a few seconds as 
his body got used to the change, and during those seconds his thoughts 
raced…

{It is impossible, it is my imagination…. That had been elvish, Sauron 
would not speak elvish, he despises elves, and he hates our light, our 
language the very sight of us. That was elvish, and I am an elf, what 
could Sauron wish of me, what is this treachery, this foolishness…I am 
just loosing my mind, nothing real. This is not real…}

With a start he realized the air of evil that surrounded them, as a 
winged shape of darkness passed above them, blocking to his eyes the 
glittering light of the stars. 

"Nazgûl!" Gandalf cried. "The messenger of Mordor. The storm is 
coming. The Nazgûl have crossed the River! Ride, ride! Wait not for 
the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow! Ride!"

And then in a blur of movement, Gandalf was on top of Shadowfax; 
Aragorn lifted Pippin and set him in Gandalf's arms, wrapped in cloak 
and blanket. "Farewell! Follow fast!" cried Gandalf. "Away, 
Shadowfax!"

The great horse tossed his head. His flowing tail flicked in the 
moonlight. Then he leapt forward, spurning the earth, and was gone 
like the north wind from the mountains.

Legolas stared at the disappearing shadow in silence, and with a 
mournful tear he whispered to the night air, his whisper swallowed by 
the sounds of the camp being lifted.

"Mithrandir…Im baurle si…Im baur gûr…Mithrandir?" (Mithrandir…I need 
thee now…I need counsel…Mithrandir?)

 ----------



Chapter 25


Here we go into The Return of the King…(WHAT?!?!?!)

And now, Chapter 25, written with love to everyone who
has read & reviewed, with a special dedication to
Kaeva and to Bill the Pony (My nice reviewer, not the
actual pony *Grin*).

Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly

{I'm lost}
{You see it now?}
{Aye}
{Can you feel the void now, little one?}
{Aye}
{Will you let me help you?}
{Nay…}

Gandalf was gone, and the thudding hoofs of Shadowfax
were lost in the night, when Merry came back to
Aragorn. Legolas noticed that he carried no pack but
only a light bundle, and a memory of Parth Galen came
to mind. The little one had probably lost it there.
Hasufel was already saddled as Aragorn waited for
Merry. Legolas and Gimli with their horse stood close
by, as the elf's thoughts raced in numbing fear. He
disconnected himself from his thoughts, feeling the
dread on his heart but ignoring it, looking through
indifferent eyes as the night kept on advancing.

{You cannot run from the truth, little elf}
{Nay, I cannot, now will I try to…}
{Then what do you do? play hide and seek inside your
mind? face the truth …face it all…}
{I do not wish to! I cannot right now it is too much!}
{Ooh, is it now, you weakling? Face it! It cannot
overwhelm you unless you are truly the disgrace you
know you are. You wish to prove yourself? Then stop
running like a child…just stop and face everything}
{Why do you help me?}
{Face it all}
{It feels like too much, I feel dread when I think of
fighting against this darkness…against whatever I
really saw in the Palantir… I feel so tired, so thin
inside…}
{Face it…}

"So four of the Company still remain," said Aragorn;
breaking into the trance that Legolas had slipped
into. "We will ride on together. But we shall not go
alone, as I thought. The king is now determined to set
out at once. Since the coming of the winged shadow, he
desires to return to the hills under cover of night."

When Aragorn said the word 'shadow', Legolas shuddered
and visualized a battlefield in his mind's eye.
Thousand of armies of the dark creatures of Mordor
stood on one side, with the other side desolate, only
filled with the scattered corpses of familiar faces
and with a lone standing figure…him. Bloodied and
barely alive, he stood there among so many dead…

"And then whither?" said Legolas, an urgent tone
creeping into his voice as he tried to distract
himself from the images playing in his mind. 

"I cannot say yet," Aragorn answered softly, eyeing
his friend carefully. "As for the king, he will go to
the muster that he commanded at Edoras, four nights
from now. And there, I think, he will hear tidings of
war, and the Riders of Rohan will go down to Minas
Tirith. But for myself, and any that will go with me…
"

{Do not leave me alone!}

Panic made his voice work, and he interrupted Aragorn
in mid sentence "I for one!" cried the elf, who was
hardly surprised when he heard his friend's voice
speak then. 
"And Gimli with him!" said the Dwarf.

"Well, for myself," said Aragorn with a small half
smile, "it is dark before me. I must go down also to
Minas Tirith, but I do not yet see the road. An hour
long prepared approaches."

{Indeed it does, does it not little Prince? The hour
approaches…take your weapons, take your armor, and
walk into the battlefield…c'mon little elf, you do not
want your friends to be butchered without you, do you,
now?}

Trembling, the whisper of his own voice and the image
of blood on his friends and family, were enough to
make Legolas wish to step back, to almost crave for
the darkness he so rightly feared earlier. 

{I am losing without even fighting…}
{Face it now it is time!}
{Nay it is not! It cannot be, you hear me? It cannot
be time yet I am not ready…}
{Since when does war await one warrior?}
{Since the warrior started the war in question!}
{Now, little one…who says you started it?}
{What?}

Silence

{What? Who did then? What did you say?}

Silence, dimmed by Aragorn and Merry's conversation in
the background…in the real world…

Then true silence, and it frightened Legolas enough to
look for the voices and breathing of his friends on
the outside, shaking his head to clear it he turned
back to the people around him. He saw the riders
mounting their horses, and following the example, he
then helped Gimli to settle behind him. 

Looking around, he ached for the strong presence of
the wizard that had rode on earlier, with the young
unfortunate hobbit on his horse. The void was growing
inside of him, and the thought that soon all his
friends might leave him on the real world as well,
made his heart shudder inside his breast.  

{Onto war we all go…but whose war?!}

Soon all were ready to depart: twenty-four horses,
with Gimli behind Legolas, and Merry in front of
Aragorn. They rode now, in the night without
conversations between the men. It suited Legolas mood
just fine that there would be no talk. His mind was
not set upon the weather, and he needed no reminding
of the horrors yet to come.  They had not long passed
the mounds at the Fords of Isen, when a Rider galloped
up from the rear of their line.

"My lord," the man said to the king, "there are
horsemen behind us. As we crossed the fords I thought
that I heard them. Now we are sure. They are
overtaking us, riding hard."

Fear gripped at his heart, and for a delusional
second, Legolas thought the riders came for him. It
was then that the elf feared to loose the grasp on his
mind once more, knowing well that in battle he could
not afford such lunacies. 

{In no battle can you afford that, little one…}
{Leave me be! Leave me be at once, I can listen to
your riddles no longer}
{Who are you to command me, little one?}
{The owner of the mind you are tormenting}
{You mean 'helping'…}

Théoden at once called a halt. The Riders turned about
and seized their spears. Aragorn dismounted and set
Merry on the ground, and drawing his sword he stood by
the king's stirrup. Éomer and his esquire rode back to
the rear as the elf felt a hand on his shoulder.
Turning to see the dwarf's eyes, Legolas gave him a
questioning look. 

"Help me down, elf, I have no desire to try and wield
my axe while on this beast. I might still kill
whatever comes, yet I might also kill the elf in front
of me"

Legolas nodded and helped his friend to dismount,
grinning down at him when he was upon the ground. "And
you do *not* want to kill the elf in front of you?"

"Well, if you have a death wish, I suppose it would be
my duty to comply…" Gimli teased with mock
seriousness, missing the lightening quick flash of
longing that appeared on the elf's features at his
words. 

"I will be sure to let you know, when that happens
Master dwarf" Legolas answered softly with a
half-hearted wink. Gimli just shook his head and
turned to face the approaching shadows of the riders,
just visible on the path from the fords. The moonlight
glinted here and there on the points of spears. The
number of the pursuers could not be told, but they
seemed no fewer than the king's escort, at the least.

Each sound of the hoofs from the oncoming horses made
Legolas' heart beat a little faster, until he was
certain that it would explode from his chest in a
bloody scene. Trying to calm himself down, he tried
visualizing that scene, and the surprise on his
friend's faces if his heart were actually to blow out
of him…with a shake of his head at the stupid image,
Legolas focused back on the shadows. 

When they were some fifty paces off, Éomer cried in a
loud voice: "Halt! Halt! Who rides in Rohan?"
The pursuers brought their steeds to a sudden stand. A
silence followed, and Legolas wished he could shout,
just to break it. He could see what mortal eyes could
not. These were men, who were eyeing them with the
same distrust that the King's men were eyeing them. 

A man could be seen dismounting and walking slowly
forward. His hand showed white as he held it up, palm
outward, in token of peace; but the king's men gripped
their weapons. So did Legolas, taking aim with his bow
towards the man's heart. At ten paces away the man
stopped. And his clear voice broke the long silence.

"Rohan? Rohan did you say? That is a glad word. We
seek that land in haste from long afar." Legolas
relaxed his arm and strapped his bow on his back once
more, ignoring Gimli's bewildered look. He knew what
he was doing, for he had recognized the voice. 

"You have found it," said Éomer, still unaware if
these were foes they faced. "When you crossed the
fords yonder you entered it. But it is the realm of
Théoden the King. None ride here save by his leave.
Who are you? And what is your haste?"

"Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger of the North I am," cried
the man, confirming what Legolas already knew, the man
had gone to Mirkwood on a few occasions, and Legolas
had known well that it had been him. "We seek one
Aragorn son of Arathorn, and we heard that he was in
Rohan."

"And you have found him also!" cried Aragorn. Giving
his reins to Merry, the man ran forward and embraced
the newcomer. "Halbarad!" he said. "Of all joys this
is the least expected!"

Legolas searched the crowd of new arrivals, for he
believed he had seen two faces…or perhaps only one, if
you gave it thought, that had seemed pleasantly
familiar. 

"All is well," said Aragorn, turning back towards them
and making Legolas' eyes focus on his friend once
more. "Here are some of my own kin from the far land
where I dwelt. But why they come, and how many they
be, Halbarad shall tell us."

"I have thirty with me," answered Halbarad. "That is
all of our kindred that could be gathered in haste;
but the brethren Elladan and Elrohir have ridden with
us, desiring to go to the war. We rode as swiftly as
we might when your summons came."

Legolas smiled and turned his gaze back towards the
group, where he now could see the twins among the men.
Both half-elves had seen him and nodded in his
direction. He nodded back and saw the quick grins on
their now so serious faces. 

{More elves…}
{…What about it?}
{Nothing, little one, it is nothing more than another
distraction for you to hide from your battle}

"But I did not summon you," said Aragorn, his voice
surprised "save only in wish. My thoughts have often
turned to you, and seldom more than tonight; yet I
have sent no word. But come! All such matters must
wait. You find us riding in haste and danger. Ride
with us now, if the king will give his leave."

Théoden seemed indeed glad of the news. "It is well!"
he said. "If these kinsmen be in any way like to
yourself, my lord Aragorn, thirty such knights will be
a strength that cannot be counted by heads."

Aragorn had never been good with praise; Legolas
thought absentmindedly when he saw the man bow his
head away from sight, and turn towards the Dúnedain
again. The elf helped the dwarf to mount behind him
again, and then the Riders set out again, Aragorn for
a while rode with the Dúnedain, speaking of things
Legolas had no desire to overhear.  The night was old
when they rode up at last from Deeping-coomb and came
back to the Hornburg. There they were to lie and rest
for a brief while and take counsel.

Legolas looked around and shook his head. Only three
days had passed since he had been here, battling
against seemingly endless hordes of orcs. Now all was
silent, and more things troubled this mind than the
last time he had stood on this ground. With a sigh he
turned away from these thoughts and walked towards
where a group of people stood.

Two pair of familiar eyes stared at him, and although
he felt a great desire to be with friends of old, he
also feared whatever conversation he and the twins he
could see a few meters away might have. Keen were the
eyes pf the elves, and he had not been faced to them
up until now…

Would they see?

{Will they see the battle I fear…the inner turmoil I
attempt to hide?}
{Will you be capable of handling this lie once more,
Princeling?}
{I know not…}
{Little one, you must} The voice hissed suddenly, and
fear gripped Legolas' heart. {You must…you better…}



-------------



 Chapter 26…


  -----------------------------------------------------------
Author Notes: I…don't know what to say! I have over 250 reviews, which is more 
than I could have ever hoped for. Thank you every single one of you, and be 
assured that you shall get a personal thanks when this story is finished. My 
final author note shall be for all of you! 

 Please R&R, this story shall soon be over, and I wish to see just how many 
reviews I can get *Smile* 

Also, since I have something close to 4 chapters left, I wish to start the 
correction of each chapter. Is anyone out there willing to help me with the 
grammar?

Now, onto chapter 26…
-----------------------------------------------------------


{You must…you better}

Before he could think of the implications of the hiss inside his thoughts, he 
found himself in front of two identical faces, both of which were smiling at him 
pleasantly. He felt his stomach churn as he forced dark thoughts from his mind.

"Legolas of Mirkwood, long has it been since our last meeting" Elrohir said 
while he embraced the prince, stepping away to leave room for his brother. 
Elladan embraced Legolas as well, and the elf prince smiled at them both, hoping 
it would somehow reach his eyes. 

"Indeed it has, my friends. You have not graced Mirkwood with your presence in 
years, and duty has given me little time to visit Rivendell before the Council" 
Legolas answered, as he let Elrohir lead the way towards a corner away from the 
men.

Elladan gave the prince a curious look, and Legolas knew he was about to 
remember just how straight forward the other elf could be. "What troubles you, 
Legolas? The last time we saw you, your pose was not rigid as I see it now, and 
I see a pain in your eyes that had not tormented you then"
Elrohir gave his brother a look, which his twin ignored, as he focused calm eyes 
on the blond elf in front of him. Legolas sighed and glanced from one to the 
other, knowing now was the time to prove if he could lie.

{Lie, lie to them you weakling, you already admitted weakness to Haldir and to 
his brothers, Lady Galadriel has seen it as well. Aragorn and Gimli barely trust 
you now…do you wish to loose the twins' friendship as well? Just because you're 
too weak, too much of a coward?}
{Would it not be cowardly to lie and hide?}
{Not when your life is at stake, Princeling, not when you will feel grief upon 
your heart as soon as you see their disapproving gazes}
{I am still a coward}
{Aye, you are…}

"Nothing troubles me Elladan" Legolas said at last, meeting the eyes that 
studied him with as much honesty as he could muster "The war and the bloodshed, 
the pull of the ring on a friend and the hardships of the fellowship have given 
me pain, with no time for grieving for it all. It has been overwhelming…which I 
believe is the reason I must look different to your eyes"

"Nay, Legolas" Elrohir interrupted softly "If you do not wish to tell us, you 
can keep your thoughts to yourself, but you would offend us if you continue to 
lie to our faces. Pain and grief…and something else lurks in your eyes…"

Legolas looked down and sighed, "I wish I could tell you…" he murmured

"What stops you?" Elladan questioned softly, searching the blue gaze that 
refused to meet his. 

{The voice on my head} he thought mockingly

"Duty and a greater concern than my own troubled thoughts," Legolas said, 
meeting their eyes again "War comes now…I can grieve later"

Elrohir nodded and after a pause he spoke again "Just one question"

Legolas nodded his permission

"Are you alright?"

{Nay, nay I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!} His mind sobbed in vain, as his mouth 
curved in a gentle smile on the outside.

"Aye, my friends…nothing time will not heal"

{Is that so? You think with time your problems shall fade away? That if you wait 
long enough, the battle may never have to be fought?}
{Aye…nay…nay…I know not…}
{Do not dream, little one. One's problems do not fade away}

Elladan and Elrohir seemed unconvinced but the twins respected whatever reason 
Legolas had to keep silent, for they had no further reason to worry for his 
welfare in the time being. Legolas sighed in relief, and thanked Elbereth that 
the both of them had not arrived earlier in their travels, for they would have 
seen the madness that had threatened to consume him…that still was threatening 
him, to some extent. 

He quickly turned the conversation into more pleasant matters, and in the midst 
of the camp they spoke of what had come to pass during the time they had been 
separated. Without realizing it; they had switched back to elvish and several 
curious stares were directed their way, for most of these riders were not used 
to the musical language that flowed easily between the three.

Time flew by, and soon Legolas knew that it was time to go check on his mortal 
friends. With a smile and a mock bow, he walked away from the twins, looking for 
any of the other familiar faces. He soon spotted Gimli, sharpening his axe in 
silent concentration. Legolas went and sat next to him, without saying anything, 
content with merely resting his mind away from the voice and away from his 
conscience, the latter of which was begging him to talk with someone…anyone…be 
it the twins of the next rider or Rohan he spotted. 

When the noise from the axe stopped, Legolas turned to find Gimli's eyes trained 
upon him, searching for answers that not even Legolas had. The elf smiled at the 
dwarf, ignoring the unspoken questions hanging between them.

"I thought you would never notice me, Master dwarf, I was starting to consider 
throw an arrow at your head so you would know I was here"

Gimli shook his head, knowing full well what Legolas was doing. "Elf, why don't 
we go and find Merry? It shall soon be time for a meal, and I doubt the little 
one will be willing to miss that"

Glad that the dwarf did not voice any of the painfully obvious things to say, 
Legolas nodded as he gracefully leapt to his feet, training his eyes around the 
camp to spot the mop of curls that would belong a to a hobbit. Seeing it, he 
walked in its direction, hearing Gimli walk calmly beside him. The hobbit was 
asleep, and dead to the world, but the elf was unwilling to talk much with Gimli 
alone, afraid that he would have to face some of the things he had wanted to 
hide from, at least for some time…

{You see, little weakling? Running and hiding and lying, those seem like the 
only things you know well how to do}

Kneeling next to the sleeping form, Legolas woke him gently, shaking Merry's 
shoulder with a friendly grip. 

"The Sun is high," said Legolas. "All others are up and doing. Come, Master 
Sluggard, and look at this place while you may!"

{The time is coming, little elf, you cannot hide in games and jokes, you cannot 
hide in fear and lack of courage…you simply cannot hide}

"There was a battle here three nights ago," said Gimli to the hobbit that stared 
sleepily at him, "and here Legolas and I played a game that I won only by a 
single orc. Come and see how it was! And there are caves, Merry, caves of 
wonder! Shall we visit them, Legolas, do you think?"

{Caves? How appropriate, do you not think little elf? Caves make wonderful 
tombs} 

"Nay! There is no time," said the Elf with a calm voice that betrayed none of 
the terror the whisper brought in him. "Do not spoil the wonder with haste! I 
have given you my word to return hither with you, if a day of peace and freedom 
comes again. But it is now near to noon, and at that hour we eat, and then set 
out again, I hear."

Legolas watched as Merry got up slowly, getting dressed with no hurry. He could 
see as clearly as the day that Merry missed Pippin, but there was nothing to be 
done about it. He wished he could reassure the hobbit in someway, but how could 
he? If he was afraid that his friends might leave him behind, later, how could 
he tell Merry everything was fine, now that Pippin had gone ahead of him? He 
would feel the same, if not far worse than Merry if the positions were reversed, 
and he did not know how to appease the hurt that this had caused on the hobbit. 

"Where is Aragorn?" Merry asked.
"In a high chamber of the Burg," answered Legolas softly. "He has neither rested 
nor slept, I think. He went thither some hours ago, saying that he must take 
thought, and only his kinsman, Halbarad, went with him; but some dark doubt or 
care sits on him."

{I will tell you of his dark doubt, little one} The voice suddenly hissed 
roughly, making Legolas' breathing hitch, luckily or maybe unluckily for him, 
not loud enough for his companions to hear {He doubts he can trust his best 
friend, he doubts your sanity, your strength! He doubts your every move, and he 
watches you carefully, waiting for your fall; awaiting the moment that he will 
have to kill you, to finish the threat that you represent}
{Stop this…}
{You know it is true, little Prince…}
{I know nothing!}
{You know everything…} The voice laughed, and suddenly, it was his voice no 
longer {You know everything, and you shall know more…you shall be aware of the 
extent of damage you can cause…you shall come to be familiar with the bigger 
side of you, the side you have repressed…}

The hiss was familiar, terrifying and seductive all at once, sounding as an 
invitation to open doors never before seen…as the temptation he no longer 
thought he could fight… 

{What side?} His voice was no longer that of a warrior, but that of a child, and 
he could hear laughter ringing in his ears. Barely managing to do so, he 
followed the conversation going on in the outside, while forcing his mind to 
grasp his one opportunity for answers. 

He needed to know…but could he…?

{The side that came up the first time you slain an orc, even while you knew its 
brethren was once the same as yours. You remember, don't you little one? 
Remember your reaction? Your delight?}
{What…}
{Remember your laughter?}

And he could…he remembered it clearly. The orc lay slain before him, a pool of 
black blood spilling on the grass, and even with the knowledge that this 
creatures' ancestors had been elves, he had smiled…he had laughed softly, to 
himself, a cold empty laugh that now shook him to the bone. 

{That is no side of me…that was…I was…my first war party, my first kill…I was a 
warrior then…}
{And you are a warrior now, and still you enjoy it, don't you princeling? Enjoy 
the rush, the power and the strength that you undergo…you still laugh, don't 
you?}
{Nay! I do not!}
{You still smile don't you?}
{Nay, nay, nay! Do not say such things, they are nothing but deception!}
{Are they?}
{Stop this! These are times of war!}
{And don't you enjoy the prospect? Doesn't it enlighten your heart to know you 
shall feel the power once more?}
{Nay…nay…Mirkwood might be in danger, my people might suffer if we fail this. If 
we fail in this war of men…}
{Aye, princeling, 'tis a war of men. What do you do in here, then? Why do you 
fight if not by your own sardonic pleasure? You know Gimli fights out of duty, 
just as he knows that he enjoys a good battle…but you? You feel pleasure from 
it…}
{Nay!}
{Open your eyes, little one…see the truth…}
{Please…}
{Do not beg noting of me, little one…'tis only you…}

"…Word came to Rivendell, they say: 'Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the 
Dúnedain ride to him in Rohan!' But whence this message came they are now in 
doubt. Gandalf sent it, I would guess" Gimli was saying and Legolas found logic 
among his inner distractions.
"Nay, Galadriel," said the elf softly. "Did she not speak through Gandalf of the 
ride of the Grey Company from the North?"
"Yes, you have it," said Gimli. "The Lady of the Wood! She read many hearts and 
desires. Now why did not we wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?"

Legolas stood before the gate and turned his bright eyes away north and east, 
his thoughts filled with anxiety and desperation. A pang of guilt of realization 
made his heart shudder in his chest, and his fair face was now visibly troubled. 
"I do not think that any would come," he answered. "They have no need to ride to 
war; war already marches on their own lands."

The three companions marched onwards, after the discouraging words of the elf. 
Gimli did not contradict his words, for he knew his elven companion's thoughts 
were troubled, but now he felt distressed. Was it a shadow he had seen in 
Legolas' eyes as he spoke? Was it truly darkness what now was hidden behind deep 
blue eyes?

They went to the midday meal in the hall of the Burg, where the King was already 
seated. The man called Merry to his side, leaving Gimli and Legolas behind, 
sharing a silence loaded with emotions. Finally the dwarf gave up in trying to 
ignore his doubts and fears; opening his mouth to question the elf, he closed it 
once more when he noticed the far away look in his companion' countenance. 

{Acknowledge your true nature, little elf…}
{True nature…I do not know of what you speak…}
{You can fool them all, but me, little one, acknowledge your real thoughts, 
everything you feel behind the façade of nobility. You have not a righteous bone 
in your body!}
{Just leave me be…}
{Answer something, little one}
{I do not wish to!}
{But you shall}
{I…I shall…}
{Good, little one. Answer something for me now…Do you not like the sight of 
blood?}
{W-What?!…That…I…nay! Of course not! How could I-?}
{Answer truthfully…}
{That vile substance is foul! Of course I do not like it…so dark and thick…} 
{Not Orcan blood, little one…your own…your life force, deep red and so rich…}
{I…I…I do not wish to think of this, I do not wish to-}
{ANSWER ME!}

Gimli was flabbergasted when a small sound escaped the silent elf…a whimper…so 
soft it would have been his imagination, but the endless pools of blue on his 
friend's pale face spoke of grief beyond anyone's knowledge. 

{Aye}

The dwarf assumed the elf had been listening the King's conversation, when the 
man had told Merry he should ride with him. Sympathetic to the grief of 
separation, Gimli placed a hand gently on the elf's shoulder and Legolas was 
shaken away from his musings, loosing the concentration he needed to focus on 
his inner conflict. Placing a fake smile upon his lips, he turned to Gimli and 
nodded his head in silent thanks, for whatever had possessed the dwarf to try 
and comfort him. Legolas feared his thoughts would soon become too obvious to 
ignore, even on the outside…

Then, Éomer came out from the gate, and with him was Aragorn, and Halbarad 
bearing the great staff close-furled in black, and two tall men, neither young 
nor old. So much alike were they, the sons of Elrond, that few could tell them 
apart: dark-haired, grey-eyed, and their faces elven-fair, clad alike in bright 
mail beneath cloaks of silver-grey. Behind them walked Legolas and Gimli in grim 
silence, whose faces sobered even further when they saw the change in Aragorn. 
The man was exhausted and burdened beyond what was healthy…almost beyond what 
was possible. Legolas felt his heart constrict when he saw his friend in this 
state, and his guilt was immense when he thought in how much of that weariness 
might come from his friend's worry for his welfare. 

The man walked towards the King's horse and spoke with the royal man, as Merry 
looked and listened to the worrying words being spoken. The elf saw this happen 
yet he did not come close, content with being able to see what was transpiring. 
He needed no further burdens…he could not afford to concern himself with every 
detail any longer…he could barely handle anything on his current state of mind. 
Doubts, fears and horrible truths slapped him in the face, without anything new 
being added to the mix. There was enough inside of him to make him wish to stay 
away from further complications. 

Yet when Aragorn walked back to the table of the Hall in silent mourning, and 
Legolas could see that the King's men and the little Merry had departed, he 
could worry about himself no longer, choosing instead to focus his attentions on 
his dear friend, over his own crumbling thoughts. 

The silence stretched on until it was no longer bearable, and Legolas finally 
spoke "Come!" said Legolas at last. "Speak and be comforted, and shake off the 
shadow! What has happened since we came back to this grim place in the grey 
morning?"

"A struggle somewhat grimmer for my part than the battle of the Hornburg," 
answered Aragorn, looking up to meet his friend's gaze. "I have looked in the 
Stone of Orthanc, my friends."

The elf froze and the breath left him in a rush, blissfully covered by Gimli's 
voice as he exclaimed his weariness at the mention of the stone. Legolas looked 
down onto the table and blocked out the conversation between his friends' as he 
tried to collect his thoughts into some semblance of order and calm.

{The stone…}
{What did you see there, young one?}
{The…the…}
{Your doom, was it not?}
{My fate?}
{Aye}
{How-nay…why?}
{Do you not ride to face the Dark Lord…or do you ride to war and bloodshed?}
{I know not…I know nothing, any longer!}
{You know too well…that is your dilemma}

"The Paths of the Dead!" said Gimli loudly, startling Legolas out of his 
thought, once more. "It is a fell name; and little to the liking to the Men of 
Rohan, as I saw. Can the living use such a road and not perish? And even if you 
pass that way, what will so few avail to counter the strokes of Mordor?"

"The living have never used that road since the coming of the Rohirrim," said 
Aragorn gravely, studying the faces of his friends "for it is closed to them. 
But in this dark hour the heir of Isildur may use it, if he dare. Listen! This 
is the word that the sons of Elrond bring to me from their father in Rivendell, 
wisest in lore: Bid Aragorn remember the words of the seer, and the Paths of the 
Dead."
"And what may be the words of the seer?" asked Legolas evenly, unaffected unlike 
Gimli with the course they were to take.
"Thus spoke Malbeth the Seer, in the days of Arvedui, last king at Fornost,' 
said Aragorn:

Over the land there lies a long shadow,
Westward reaching wings of darkness.
The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kings
Doom approaches. The Dead awaken;
For the hour is come for the oathbreakers;
At the Stone of Erech they shall stand again
And hear there a horn in the hills ringing.
Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them
From the prey twilight, the forgotten people?
The heir of him to whom the oath they swore.
From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:
He shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.

"Dark ways doubtless," said Gimli, and Legolas nodded to himself "but no darker 
than these staves are to me."
"If you would understand them better, then I bid you come with me," said 
Aragorn, looking pointedly at each of them, lingering his grey gaze upon his 
elven friend; "for that way I now shall take. But I do not go gladly; only need 
drives me. Therefore, only of your free will would I have you come, for you will 
find both toil and great fear, and maybe worse."

This time there was no mistake on whom was Aragorn addressing his words to, for 
his gaze was fully concentrated on the troubled blue gaze of Legolas who seemed 
distant, and unaffected by this new turn of events. Aragorn wished to make his 
friend understand the perils they now stood against, yet Legolas remained 
passive, and answered his gaze with a subtle nod. 


"I will go with you even on the Paths of the Dead, and to whatever, end they may 
lead," said Gimli, watching the interchange with Legolas without interrupting.

"I also will come," said Legolas determinately, his voice betraying none of his 
doubts "for I do not fear the Dead."

Aragorn seemed pained by his answer, obviously wishing to protect the elf, and 
Legolas found himself angry with his friend. Shaking off his feelings as 
inappropriate he looked away from the eyes studying him, unwilling to let the 
rage inside of him grow into anything further, and force him to take out his 
frustration on the ranger. The heir of Gondor nodded, and began to explain the 
story behind the army of the dead, and their link with Isildur that had survived 
long centuries, Legolas barely listening as he forced his features into a calm 
he did not feel.

{You feel it growing inside, little one? The fury? The feelings you suppress 
every time…the feelings that shall soon wake…}
{Silence!}
{Do not dare to command me, little one…I am you, and you are…mine…}
{I am not…}
{Are you not, now? Do you not belong to yourself?}
{I…I…Do not confuse me, I am…}
{Do not command me, princeling…}
{I-I'm sorry…}
{Good little one…very good, indeed}

Aragorn stood up, and Legolas looked up at him with suddenly mild eyes. "Come!" 
the ranger cried, drawing his sword, and it flashed in the twilit hall of the 
Burg. "To the Stone of Erech! I seek the Paths of the Dead. Come with me who 
will!"

Legolas and Gimli made no answer, but they rose and followed Aragorn from the 
hall, Legolas focusing his eyes upon the ground. The voice did not lie…for if he 
was not the owner of his own thoughts…were his thoughts the owner of him?

On the green there waited, still and silent, the hooded Rangers. Legolas and 
Gimli mounted. Aragorn sprang upon Roheryn. Then Halbarad lifted a great horn, 
and the blast of it echoed in Helm's Deep; and with that they leapt away, riding 
down the Coomb like thunder, while all the men that were left on Dike or Burg 
stared in amaze.

-----------------------------------------------------------
Please R&R, I need to know if this was worth the wait…and mostly if this is 
making sense to someone that is not myself… 

  
Disclaimer: *Rolls on the floor laughing* …so…no, not mine…


IMPORTANT NOTE: This chapter will probably be the last update in a considerable 
amount of time, since after this, I found myself officially stuck! I'll try and 
work my best to get the next chapter up soon, but I guarantee nothing. I tried 
to have something of the next chapter written by the time I posted this, but it 
soon became obvious that I would keep you waiting for too long if I did. 

Also, in my hurry, I really had no time to double check this chapter for 
mistakes, so it must have a couple of extra ones…

A big thank you goes out to my newfound Beta who will start helping me to fix 
this whole thing soon! I will post the final and grammar-checked version of this 
story along with the last chapter of the aforementioned. 

Enjoy!
-----------------------------------------------------------
Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly

On this day, as the Grey Company kept on moving towards Edoras, Legolas seemed 
to have regained some shred of control. He was tranquil and focused upon the 
task at hand, unwilling to allow feeling to rule over his actions. Yet, as time 
moved forward, it was becoming extremely difficult to pretend everything was 
fine, and the exaggerated calm he irradiated at these times of war managed to be 
anything but convincing…most of all to the one whose eyes had never left the Elf 
and the source of the Prince's current predicament. 

Aragorn.

Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, who had been watching over Legolas like a hawk, with 
eyes filled with concern and some twisted sense of understanding that Legolas 
loathed to see. 

{He cannot understand}

What added to the burden the Elf carried, was the voice again. Not attacking him 
this time, not confusing him further, but doing something that frightened the 
Elf to the very core, more than anything else he had so far faced. 

The voice now sounded…pleased…

And the fact Legolas himself now found calm in this new turn of events was the 
hardest part of all. He hated himself for the knowledge that every event was 
intertwined, that every burden was the chain reaction that had begun for one 
reason only. Had begun for his own weakness. And with every breath he took and 
every step he moved this knowledge was enough to overwhelm whatever strength he 
tried to cling onto. 

Whatever the consequences of this, the voice was pleased, and although pained, 
Legolas was composed…and angry…increasingly angry. 

Angry at the voice for being a hidden part of himself he had never wanted to 
meet, angry at himself for being weak enough to let this happen, angry at his 
friends for they still didn't know what ailed and hence they could not help him, 
angry at himself again, for not being able to tell them of this…

Angry most of all, at Aragorn for giving him an overprotection that was not what 
he needed, that was only aggravating him…angry at Aragorn for…for…

{For dragging you into this, Princeling?} 
{Nay…}
{For him being the real cause behind all of this? Because these are Aragorn's 
lands and this is Aragorn's war? Because you're in the middle of all that is 
painful?}
{Nay…}
{Admit you need someone to blame}
{I never denied it}
{Then deny my allegations no further! For you know them to be true, do you not 
little one? You need someone, something that is not yourself to blame for all 
this pain?}
{I deny nothing, then}
{Then you finally do what's right, little one…you are finally seeing reason}
{Am I?}
{Aye, you are…you see what is true now…you shall soon feel as you should, as 
well}

The Grey Company continued with its course, not halting for the confusion 
lurking beneath the blue orbs of the only elf in the group, riding on for a day 
and more until they reached Edoras. Soft lips gone dry curved into the ghost of 
a sad smile as they descended upon they one they found in the Palace, for there 
stood Éowyn, Lady of the Mark, graced by great beauty and courage, whose gaze 
found its delight upon the Ranger; Aragorn son of Arathorn engaged to Evening 
Star of the Elves. 

When Legolas was sure he should feel sorrow for the Lady, he found her misplaced 
interest strangely amusing. Her heart was where it did not belong, and the ghost 
of her own hope was inviting her to approach the man she desired. But 
Hope…Estel…did not really call for her, even as her eyes betrayed her heart's 
desire and told the entire world where her interest lay. Even as Aragorn told 
her of Helm's Deep and a secret flame shone in her eyes, and Legolas could not 
bring himself to feel anything but…pleasure…at the sight

{I am impressed, Princeling}
{You are?}

Legolas' silent steps carried him away from the meal, after thanking the Lady 
Éowyn with a forced smile, accompanied by the loud ones of Gimli the dwarf who 
walked next to him. Refusing his friend's offer to go along with him on a short 
walk, Legolas then bid his friend goodbye and turned to walk towards his 
accommodations for the night. He was surprised then, when a rough hand grabbed 
his wrist. 

{Do not touch me!}

"What is it, Master Dwarf?"

Cool eyes regarded him, and were not for the flash of…something…in the pools of 
blue, Gimli would have reconsidered what he was about to say.

"I find my mind troubled, my friend" The dwarf said, looking straight to the 
eyes of the Elf "I find no comfort in the knowledge you are riding to war with 
us"

Fury blazed in Legolas' eyes as he ripped his hand away from the grasp of Gimli, 
who stood amazed at the amount of feeling those eyes now held. Turning his back 
on his friend, Legolas took a step towards his room without a word, and 
desperate for some kind of reassurance, Gimli hurried to stop the Elf taking a 
step forward of his own and placing a hand on the lithe shoulders.

{Don't you dare touch me…}

The gesture proved to be a mistake. 

Legolas' body tensed at the contact, and before Gimli could react, the Elf did. 
Fast as lightening Legolas' right arm went behind his back and took a bruising 
hold of Gimli's limb, the rest of the slim body whirling around with a speed 
that dazzled the Dwarf. His left arm joining the right in the hold on Gimli's 
extremity, Legolas used his strong grasp to yank the Dwarf to collide hard 
against the harsh stonewall of the hall they stood on. The surprised yelp of his 
friend and loud sound of the armor Gimli wore hitting against stone didn't 
disturb the Elf as the nimble being let go of the arm and went to grab the stout 
shoulders, turning his friend around so he was left facing Legolas. 

It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, but when they did, Gimli still 
wasn't sure whom he was facing.

Legolas eyes danced with fury and his breathing was labored with the effort of 
holding it back. To Gimli, that effort was still not enough. Legolas' body was 
pressed against his own, crushing him to the wall and a pale hand found the neck 
of the dwarf, turning into a fist and pushing against his windpipe.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me" Legolas hissed out, his face…frighteningly controlled. A 
mild flush of his cheeks the only thing betraying his feelings.

Gasps for air escaped Gimli's lips and the pressure just increased.

"Unfortunately for you all…I am going to War…and I am going with you"

Black spots danced in front of Gimli's eyes before the Elf relented, letting go 
and stepping back, his body loosing its tense demeanor. Walking away towards his 
room through the dark hallway, leaving behind his friend kneeling on the floor 
and gasping for much needed oxygen, Legolas' last words drifted to Gimli's ears 
just before the Elf turned the corner.

"Do not make me show you again that I am a capable warrior, Gimli" Legolas said 
softly, stopping for a moment on his walk, never turning back "The next time, I 
might give you a full demonstration of a battle"

His silent steps carrying him away, the only sounds left on the hallway were 
those of Gimli's labored breathing. 

****

{What did I do?}
{He thought you weak}
{Well, I proved him wrong…} 
{Aye that you did} The voice laughed 

It *Laughed*

It was frightening…and strangely reassuring. 

{How will I explain my actions later?} Legolas wondered as he entered the lodge, 
remembering suddenly that to his annoyance, he was to share this space with 
Gimli and Aragorn. 
{To whom must you explain them? You know why you did it, do you not?}
{Aye, of course I do, he touched me and accused me of being incapable of 
handling myself…}
{Then that is enough. You answer to yourself only, little one, not even your 
Father has a right to question anything from you…and not even your Father is 
here}

Nodding to the logic of his thoughts, he lay down on his blankets and slept.

Facing away from the window and the stars it showed and with his eyes closed. He 
didn't wake when Gimli entered, staring at him as though he were a stranger and 
neither did he wake when Aragorn entered and was told the story of what had 
transpired…not even with the argument that ensued… 

And he didn't wake when Aragorn stared at him sadly, his eyes resting upon 
Legolas' calm face well into the night. 

****

When the light of day was come into the sky but the sun was not yet risen above 
the high ridges in the East, Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all 
mounted, and he was about to leap into the saddle, when the Lady Éowyn came to 
bid them farewell.

Legolas observed coldly as she wept, the picture more grievous in one so proud, 
yet his heart offered her no comfort. His heart hardly offered anything. 

That morning he had awoken to find Gimli staring at him, Aragorn long gone to 
attend his various duties. He had risen from his blankets, folded them 
carefully, and pulling his face into a repentant expression, he turned to face 
the dwarf. Walking closer and looking straight into his eyes he had apologized 
and Gimli had nodded briskly, apparently looking for something he did not find 
in Legolas' gaze. Whatever he did not find seemed to please Gimli and although 
the silence between them was still tense, the distrust evaporated slowly from 
the dwarf's eyes. 

Legolas could live with the silence. Preferred it in fact. And he content with 
the fact Gimli had requested of him no explanations, and had required no further 
apology. There was only so much Legolas could pretend, after all. 

When Aragorn denied the Lady's request, and turned away her begs, he jumped onto 
the saddle, greatly troubled and rode away. Legolas went on Arod after him, 
sparing no further glance to Éowyn, and ignoring Gimli's yelp and the tighter 
hold he had placed on Legolas at the horse's sudden movement. 

The light was still grey as they rode, for the sun had not yet climbed over the 
black ridges of the Haunted Mountain before them. Legolas could see the great 
distress of the humans as they passed ancient rock walls, and had to admit to 
being slightly disturbed himself when they reached the shadow of black trees. A 
suffocating shadow that surrounded them, as the trees cried out in a pain that 
managed to move the Elf's unnaturally cold heart. Beneath this shadow, the 
company found a hollow place opening at the mountain's root, and right in their 
path stood a single mighty stone like a finger of doom.

"My blood runs chill," said Gimli, his voice breaking the silence like a shout. 
Legolas looked around him to the faces of all his gaze could reach, and found 
cold fear reflected back at him. He could sympathize with none, though, for his 
heart was only touched by the mournful and painful song of the trees that wept 
for the suffocating darkness around them. The voice of Dwarf went unanswered, as 
the men looked around the place, lacking the words to express their state of 
mind. 

The horses would not pass the threatening stone, until the riders dismounted and 
led them about. Legolas did so with Arod, offering a hand for Gimli to dismount. 
The dwarf accepted it warily, and Legolas had to struggle to hide his small 
smile from the stout being. And so they came at last deep into the glen; and 
there stood a sheer wall of rock, and in the wall the Dark Door gaped before 
them like the mouth of night. Signs and figures were carved above its wide arch 
too dim to read, and fear flowed from it like a grey vapour.

The company halted there, and Legolas could feel the terror eradiating from the 
humans around him. The ghost of men did not scare him; indeed they were nothing 
but thin air in his eyes. Memories of what was and was lost, tortured enough to 
leave an imprint upon the land. 

At least Aragorn went in, and the riders reluctantly followed, leading the 
terrified horses with them. Only the animal's love for their riders drove them 
to face the terror of the door, and Legolas soon had to struggle with this 
himself when Arod, the horse of Rohan, refused the way, and he stood sweating 
and trembling in a fear that was grievous to see. 

Sighing sadly for having to force the horse into anything, Legolas laid his hand 
over the horse's eyes and begun to sing a melody that went soft in the gloom, 
until the horse suffered himself to be led. Knowing Gimli was behind him, and 
having seen the fear in his stance, Legolas found himself smiling as he passed 
in. And there stood Gimli the Dwarf left all alone.

{He didn't think you worthy, little one} The voice laughed {but look at him}

Soon hearing the heavy steps behind him, hurrying to catch up with Elladan who 
carried a torch at the rear, Legolas forgot about him and focused on the 
whispering that could now be heard. They had no tongue and their voices carried 
a unique quality that seemed to unsettle them all. Legolas just murmured softly 
a blessing in his own tongue. Maybe he could not understand their words, but he 
could understand their pain. His bright blue eyes glittered in the gloom when he 
turned to look back and saw their shapes following them. He felt strangely 
comforted when some of the whispers lost a little of its despair. 

When he saw gold reflect the light of the torches the company carried, he turned 
his eyes in that direction as Aragorn went to investigate, Elladan not far 
behind. He even saw Gimli approach them.

{Probably for the torches' light} Legolas thought with a small smile that no one 
saw. He heard the voice laughing. 

Without wanting to distance himself from Arod, Legolas just looked from a 
distance, knowing already what lay there because the light had reached the form 
of the bones that were once a mighty man with belts of gold and garnets and a 
helmet rich with gold. 

It was then that Aragorn's voice broke the silence. 

"For that is not my errand!" the man cried, completing some early murmuring that 
Legolas had not been able to catch, turning back and speaking to the whispering 
darkness behind. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed 
Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone 
of Erech!"

There was no answer to Aragorn's voice, unless it were an utter silence more 
dreadful than the whispers before; and then a chill blast came in which the 
torches flickered and went out, and could not be rekindled.

Legolas murmured words of comfort to his horse, even as he smiled. Kept 
murmuring even as he had to suppress his laughter in fear of alerting the others 
of his strange amusement. He did not know why but this darkness did not frighten 
him or bothered him in any way. He felt good here, and his spirits were high. He 
didn't know why, but the voice seemed so content here as well. He almost 
regretted he had to leave…

{Why do I feel like this?}
{Perhaps you feel good among other tortured souls, little one}
{Perhaps}

Legolas nodded to himself, as he walked forward. An hour or more, he didn't 
know, wasn't paying attention as he advanced. Whispers started slowly again only 
to go quiet again. Legolas could almost hear the step of the large mass 
of…what…people…? Ghosts…that followed them…that followed Aragorn.

{Aragorn of course…who else would they follow?}
{Does that anger you little one?}
{Aragorn angers me}
{Has he done anything today to gain that anger?}
{Look upon me with distrust, he has, he has done it all day}
{I see then…do you hate him now?}
{I hate what he is doing}
{Do you blame him?}
{I have admitted it to be so}
{Do you hate yourself?}
{That has never been a question}
{All right, little one…all right…}

After hours of tireless walking they were out of the dark, guided by the sound 
of water that had reached his ears while still inside that place. Passing 
through another gate, this one less frightening, to be out into a place he did 
not recognize. His horse was relieved to be outside once more, and Legolas was 
thanked for his actions by the beast when it nuzzled Legolas chest gently. 
Legolas patted the animal tenderly as Gimli approached him to ride.

The Company now mounted again. They rode in file, and evening came on and a deep 
blue dusk; and still fear pursued the men. Legolas turned to speak to Gimli, 
instead looking back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's 
bright eyes. A different emotion than the anger he had witnessed last night lay 
in those blue depths; there was now…excitement? Shining proudly with no haze to 
cover it. Gimli wondered about what he saw in his friend. 

Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that 
took the downward road.

"The Dead are following," said Legolas, starling Gimli with the clear sound of 
his voice. "I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of 
cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are 
following."

"Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan, looking at 
the younger Prince with careful eyes, as if he had noticed something amiss. 
Perhaps he had…Legolas' voice was light and calm, not at all like any other of 
the company could sound like at this moment in time. Legolas just smiled at the 
other elf's inquisitive gaze and turned back to look ahead. 

He barely listened as Elladan explained to Gimli they were now in the place men 
called 'Blackroot' as he focused instead in what he saw ahead.

The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces 
of the mountains. Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that 
hour, for the sun had gone, and far below lights twinkled in the homes of Men. 
The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.

Suddenly, without turning, Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: "Friends, 
forget your weariness! Ride now, ride! We must come to the Stone of Erech ere 
this day passes, and long still is the way."

It was with a smile that Legolas urged his horse onwards, going faster and 
faster, enjoying the pace as with it, they seemed to fly over the fields. As 
they passed, doors closed and windows slammed shut, the cries of the people loud 
on his ears.

"The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is come upon us!"

Legolas laughed when he heard the shouts, ignoring Gimli's query at his 
behavior. He had felt like he should laugh. 'The King of the Dead', Aragorn was 
for them, and he was seen here as a part of a Dead army. To his eyes the title 
held honor, and where this thought came from he did not know. 

{Does that even make sense? Proud of being counted as a part of this army of 
dead and haunted souls?}
{It does seem appropriate do you not think so?}

He went even faster, urging Arod to the poor beast's limit, forcing Gimli to 
cling onto him tightly in order to prevent the dwarf's deathly fall. Without 
turning, he could visualize Gimli's wide eyes and panicked expression at the 
speed they were going at, and the thought brought another laugh out of him. 

Something strange was happening with him, and he felt it coming. But he didn't 
see why should he even try to stop it now…it felt…well…it made him feel alive…

{And it shall feel better, little one…soon…}


-------------------




27. Distressing Satisfaction 
 

On this day, as the Grey Company kept on moving towards Edoras, Legolas seemed 
to have regained some shred of control. He was tranquil and focused upon the 
task at hand, unwilling to allow feeling to rule over his actions. Yet, as time 
moved forward, it was becoming extremely difficult to pretend everything was 
fine, and the exaggerated calm he irradiated at these times of war managed to be 
anything but convincing…most of all to the one whose eyes had never left the Elf 
and the source of the Prince's current predicament. 

Aragorn.

Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, who had been watching over Legolas like a hawk, with 
eyes filled with concern and some twisted sense of understanding that Legolas 
loathed to see. 

{He cannot understand}

What added to the burden the Elf carried, was the voice again. Not attacking him 
this time, not confusing him further, but doing something that frightened the 
Elf to the very core, more than anything else he had so far faced. 

The voice now sounded…pleased…

And the fact Legolas himself now found calm in this new turn of events was the 
hardest part of all. He hated himself for the knowledge that every event was 
intertwined, that every burden was the chain reaction that had begun for one 
reason only. Had begun for his own weakness. And with every breath he took and 
every step he moved this knowledge was enough to overwhelm whatever strength he 
tried to cling onto. 

Whatever the consequences of this, the voice was pleased, and although pained, 
Legolas was composed…and angry…increasingly angry. 

Angry at the voice for being a hidden part of himself he had never wanted to 
meet, angry at himself for being weak enough to let this happen, angry at his 
friends for they still didn't know what ailed and hence they could not help him, 
angry at himself again, for not being able to tell them of this…

Angry most of all, at Aragorn for giving him an overprotection that was not what 
he needed, that was only aggravating him…angry at Aragorn for…for…

{For dragging you into this, Princeling?} 
{Nay…}
{For him being the real cause behind all of this? Because these are Aragorn's 
lands and this is Aragorn's war? Because you're in the middle of all that is 
painful?}
{Nay…}
{Admit you need someone to blame}
{I never denied it}
{Then deny my allegations no further! For you know them to be true, do you not 
little one? You need someone, something that is not yourself to blame for all 
this pain?}
{I deny nothing, then}
{Then you finally do what's right, little one…you are finally seeing reason}
{Am I?}
{Aye, you are…you see what is true now…you shall soon feel as you should, as 
well}

The Grey Company continued with its course, not halting for the confusion 
lurking beneath the blue orbs of the only elf in the group, riding on for a day 
and more until they reached Edoras. Soft lips gone dry curved into the ghost of 
a sad smile as they descended upon they one they found in the Palace, for there 
stood Éowyn, Lady of the Mark, graced by great beauty and courage, whose gaze 
found its delight upon the Ranger; Aragorn son of Arathorn engaged to Evening 
Star of the Elves. 

When Legolas was sure he should feel sorrow for the Lady, he found her misplaced 
interest strangely amusing. Her heart was where it did not belong, and the ghost 
of her own hope was inviting her to approach the man she desired. But 
Hope…Estel…did not really call for her, even as her eyes betrayed her heart's 
desire and told the entire world where her interest lay. Even as Aragorn told 
her of Helm's Deep and a secret flame shone in her eyes, and Legolas could not 
bring himself to feel anything but…pleasure…at the sight

{I am impressed, Princeling}
{You are?}

Legolas' silent steps carried him away from the meal, after thanking the Lady 
Éowyn with a forced smile, accompanied by the loud ones of Gimli the dwarf who 
walked next to him. Refusing his friend's offer to go along with him on a short 
walk, Legolas then bid his friend goodbye and turned to walk towards his 
accommodations for the night. He was surprised then, when a rough hand grabbed 
his wrist. 

{Do not touch me!}

"What is it, Master Dwarf?"

Cool eyes regarded him, and were not for the flash of…something…in the pools of 
blue, Gimli would have reconsidered what he was about to say.

"I find my mind troubled, my friend" The dwarf said, looking straight to the 
eyes of the Elf "I find no comfort in the knowledge you are riding to war with 
us"

Fury blazed in Legolas' eyes as he ripped his hand away from the grasp of Gimli, 
who stood amazed at the amount of feeling those eyes now held. Turning his back 
on his friend, Legolas took a step towards his room without a word, and 
desperate for some kind of reassurance, Gimli hurried to stop the Elf taking a 
step forward of his own and placing a hand on the lithe shoulders.

{Don't you dare touch me…}

The gesture proved to be a mistake. 

Legolas' body tensed at the contact, and before Gimli could react, the Elf did. 
Fast as lightening Legolas' right arm went behind his back and took a bruising 
hold of Gimli's limb, the rest of the slim body whirling around with a speed 
that dazzled the Dwarf. His left arm joining the right in the hold on Gimli's 
extremity, Legolas used his strong grasp to yank the Dwarf to collide hard 
against the harsh stonewall of the hall they stood on. The surprised yelp of his 
friend and loud sound of the armor Gimli wore hitting against stone didn't 
disturb the Elf as the nimble being let go of the arm and went to grab the stout 
shoulders, turning his friend around so he was left facing Legolas. 

It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, but when they did, Gimli still 
wasn't sure whom he was facing.

Legolas eyes danced with fury and his breathing was labored with the effort of 
holding it back. To Gimli, that effort was still not enough. Legolas' body was 
pressed against his own, crushing him to the wall and a pale hand found the neck 
of the dwarf, turning into a fist and pushing against his windpipe.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me" Legolas hissed out, his face…frighteningly controlled. A 
mild flush of his cheeks the only thing betraying his feelings.

Gasps for air escaped Gimli's lips and the pressure just increased.

"Unfortunately for you all…I am going to War…and I am going with you"

Black spots danced in front of Gimli's eyes before the Elf relented, letting go 
and stepping back, his body loosing its tense demeanor. Walking away towards his 
room through the dark hallway, leaving behind his friend kneeling on the floor 
and gasping for much needed oxygen, Legolas' last words drifted to Gimli's ears 
just before the Elf turned the corner.

"Do not make me show you again that I am a capable warrior, Gimli" Legolas said 
softly, stopping for a moment on his walk, never turning back "The next time, I 
might give you a full demonstration of a battle"

His silent steps carrying him away, the only sounds left on the hallway were 
those of Gimli's labored breathing. 

****

{What did I do?}
{He thought you weak}
{Well, I proved him wrong…} 
{Aye that you did} The voice laughed 

It *Laughed*

It was frightening…and strangely reassuring. 

{How will I explain my actions later?} Legolas wondered as he entered the lodge, 
remembering suddenly that to his annoyance, he was to share this space with 
Gimli and Aragorn. 
{To whom must you explain them? You know why you did it, do you not?}
{Aye, of course I do, he touched me and accused me of being incapable of 
handling myself…}
{Then that is enough. You answer to yourself only, little one, not even your 
Father has a right to question anything from you…and not even your Father is 
here}

Nodding to the logic of his thoughts, he lay down on his blankets and slept.

Facing away from the window and the stars it showed and with his eyes closed. He 
didn't wake when Gimli entered, staring at him as though he were a stranger and 
neither did he wake when Aragorn entered and was told the story of what had 
transpired…not even with the argument that ensued… 

And he didn't wake when Aragorn stared at him sadly, his eyes resting upon 
Legolas' calm face well into the night. 

****

When the light of day was come into the sky but the sun was not yet risen above 
the high ridges in the East, Aragorn made ready to depart. His company was all 
mounted, and he was about to leap into the saddle, when the Lady Éowyn came to 
bid them farewell.

Legolas observed coldly as she wept, the picture more grievous in one so proud, 
yet his heart offered her no comfort. His heart hardly offered anything. 

That morning he had awoken to find Gimli staring at him, Aragorn long gone to 
attend his various duties. He had risen from his blankets, folded them 
carefully, and pulling his face into a repentant expression, he turned to face 
the dwarf. Walking closer and looking straight into his eyes he had apologized 
and Gimli had nodded briskly, apparently looking for something he did not find 
in Legolas' gaze. Whatever he did not find seemed to please Gimli and although 
the silence between them was still tense, the distrust evaporated slowly from 
the dwarf's eyes. 

Legolas could live with the silence. Preferred it in fact. And he content with 
the fact Gimli had requested of him no explanations, and had required no further 
apology. There was only so much Legolas could pretend, after all. 

When Aragorn denied the Lady's request, and turned away her begs, he jumped onto 
the saddle, greatly troubled and rode away. Legolas went on Arod after him, 
sparing no further glance to Éowyn, and ignoring Gimli's yelp and the tighter 
hold he had placed on Legolas at the horse's sudden movement. 

The light was still grey as they rode, for the sun had not yet climbed over the 
black ridges of the Haunted Mountain before them. Legolas could see the great 
distress of the humans as they passed ancient rock walls, and had to admit to 
being slightly disturbed himself when they reached the shadow of black trees. A 
suffocating shadow that surrounded them, as the trees cried out in a pain that 
managed to move the Elf's unnaturally cold heart. Beneath this shadow, the 
company found a hollow place opening at the mountain's root, and right in their 
path stood a single mighty stone like a finger of doom.

"My blood runs chill," said Gimli, his voice breaking the silence like a shout. 
Legolas looked around him to the faces of all his gaze could reach, and found 
cold fear reflected back at him. He could sympathize with none, though, for his 
heart was only touched by the mournful and painful song of the trees that wept 
for the suffocating darkness around them. The voice of Dwarf went unanswered, as 
the men looked around the place, lacking the words to express their state of 
mind. 

The horses would not pass the threatening stone, until the riders dismounted and 
led them about. Legolas did so with Arod, offering a hand for Gimli to dismount. 
The dwarf accepted it warily, and Legolas had to struggle to hide his small 
smile from the stout being. And so they came at last deep into the glen; and 
there stood a sheer wall of rock, and in the wall the Dark Door gaped before 
them like the mouth of night. Signs and figures were carved above its wide arch 
too dim to read, and fear flowed from it like a grey vapour.

The company halted there, and Legolas could feel the terror eradiating from the 
humans around him. The ghost of men did not scare him; indeed they were nothing 
but thin air in his eyes. Memories of what was and was lost, tortured enough to 
leave an imprint upon the land. 

At least Aragorn went in, and the riders reluctantly followed, leading the 
terrified horses with them. Only the animal's love for their riders drove them 
to face the terror of the door, and Legolas soon had to struggle with this 
himself when Arod, the horse of Rohan, refused the way, and he stood sweating 
and trembling in a fear that was grievous to see. 

Sighing sadly for having to force the horse into anything, Legolas laid his hand 
over the horse's eyes and begun to sing a melody that went soft in the gloom, 
until the horse suffered himself to be led. Knowing Gimli was behind him, and 
having seen the fear in his stance, Legolas found himself smiling as he passed 
in. And there stood Gimli the Dwarf left all alone.

{He didn't think you worthy, little one} The voice laughed {but look at him}

Soon hearing the heavy steps behind him, hurrying to catch up with Elladan who 
carried a torch at the rear, Legolas forgot about him and focused on the 
whispering that could now be heard. They had no tongue and their voices carried 
a unique quality that seemed to unsettle them all. Legolas just murmured softly 
a blessing in his own tongue. Maybe he could not understand their words, but he 
could understand their pain. His bright blue eyes glittered in the gloom when he 
turned to look back and saw their shapes following them. He felt strangely 
comforted when some of the whispers lost a little of its despair. 

When he saw gold reflect the light of the torches the company carried, he turned 
his eyes in that direction as Aragorn went to investigate, Elladan not far 
behind. He even saw Gimli approach them.

{Probably for the torches' light} Legolas thought with a small smile that no one 
saw. He heard the voice laughing. 

Without wanting to distance himself from Arod, Legolas just looked from a 
distance, knowing already what lay there because the light had reached the form 
of the bones that were once a mighty man with belts of gold and garnets and a 
helmet rich with gold. 

It was then that Aragorn's voice broke the silence. 

"For that is not my errand!" the man cried, completing some early murmuring that 
Legolas had not been able to catch, turning back and speaking to the whispering 
darkness behind. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed 
Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone 
of Erech!"

There was no answer to Aragorn's voice, unless it were an utter silence more 
dreadful than the whispers before; and then a chill blast came in which the 
torches flickered and went out, and could not be rekindled.

Legolas murmured words of comfort to his horse, even as he smiled. Kept 
murmuring even as he had to suppress his laughter in fear of alerting the others 
of his strange amusement. He did not know why but this darkness did not frighten 
him or bothered him in any way. He felt good here, and his spirits were high. He 
didn't know why, but the voice seemed so content here as well. He almost 
regretted he had to leave…

{Why do I feel like this?}
{Perhaps you feel good among other tortured souls, little one}
{Perhaps}

Legolas nodded to himself, as he walked forward. An hour or more, he didn't 
know, wasn't paying attention as he advanced. Whispers started slowly again only 
to go quiet again. Legolas could almost hear the step of the large mass 
of…what…people…? Ghosts…that followed them…that followed Aragorn.

{Aragorn of course…who else would they follow?}
{Does that anger you little one?}
{Aragorn angers me}
{Has he done anything today to gain that anger?}
{Look upon me with distrust, he has, he has done it all day}
{I see then…do you hate him now?}
{I hate what he is doing}
{Do you blame him?}
{I have admitted it to be so}
{Do you hate yourself?}
{That has never been a question}
{All right, little one…all right…}

After hours of tireless walking they were out of the dark, guided by the sound 
of water that had reached his ears while still inside that place. Passing 
through another gate, this one less frightening, to be out into a place he did 
not recognize. His horse was relieved to be outside once more, and Legolas was 
thanked for his actions by the beast when it nuzzled Legolas chest gently. 
Legolas patted the animal tenderly as Gimli approached him to ride.

The Company now mounted again. They rode in file, and evening came on and a deep 
blue dusk; and still fear pursued the men. Legolas turned to speak to Gimli, 
instead looking back and the Dwarf saw before his face the glitter in the Elf's 
bright eyes. A different emotion than the anger he had witnessed last night lay 
in those blue depths; there was now…excitement? Shining proudly with no haze to 
cover it. Gimli wondered about what he saw in his friend. 

Behind them rode Elladan, last of the Company, but not the last of those that 
took the downward road.

"The Dead are following," said Legolas, starling Gimli with the clear sound of 
his voice. "I see shapes of Men and of horses, and pale banners like shreds of 
cloud, and spears like winter-thickets on a misty night. The Dead are 
following."

"Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned," said Elladan, looking at 
the younger Prince with careful eyes, as if he had noticed something amiss. 
Perhaps he had…Legolas' voice was light and calm, not at all like any other of 
the company could sound like at this moment in time. Legolas just smiled at the 
other elf's inquisitive gaze and turned back to look ahead. 

He barely listened as Elladan explained to Gimli they were now in the place men 
called 'Blackroot' as he focused instead in what he saw ahead.

The Morthond Vale made a great bay that beat up against the sheer southern faces 
of the mountains. Its steep slopes were grass-grown; but all was grey in that 
hour, for the sun had gone, and far below lights twinkled in the homes of Men. 
The vale was rich and many folk dwelt there.

Suddenly, without turning, Aragorn cried aloud so that all could hear: "Friends, 
forget your weariness! Ride now, ride! We must come to the Stone of Erech ere 
this day passes, and long still is the way."

It was with a smile that Legolas urged his horse onwards, going faster and 
faster, enjoying the pace as with it, they seemed to fly over the fields. As 
they passed, doors closed and windows slammed shut, the cries of the people loud 
on his ears.

"The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is come upon us!"

Legolas laughed when he heard the shouts, ignoring Gimli's query at his 
behavior. He had felt like he should laugh. 'The King of the Dead', Aragorn was 
for them, and he was seen here as a part of a Dead army. To his eyes the title 
held honor, and where this thought came from he did not know. 

{Does that even make sense? Proud of being counted as a part of this army of 
dead and haunted souls?}
{It does seem appropriate do you not think so?}

He went even faster, urging Arod to the poor beast's limit, forcing Gimli to 
cling onto him tightly in order to prevent the dwarf's deathly fall. Without 
turning, he could visualize Gimli's wide eyes and panicked expression at the 
speed they were going at, and the thought brought another laugh out of him. 

Something strange was happening with him, and he felt it coming. But he didn't 
see why should he even try to stop it now…it felt…well…it made him feel alive…

{And it shall feel better, little one…soon…}



28. Child of Obscurity


****

STRONG WARNINGS!!!: 

Beware of violence and graphic descriptions of death in this chapter, as well as 
some rather disturbing images created by my twisted brain. Hide the kids away- 
gore and much! Angst ahead. Chapter rated R or maybe higher.

****

This whole thing goes for Minka! My very good friend and constant support!


Chapter 28

Child of Obscurity

They rode; their pace harsh and unrelenting, and many mortals stumbled in 
weariness when their limited time of rest would come. They passed town after 
deserted town- an army of ghosts on their shadow- the oathbreakers- following 
Aragorn to find eternal peace in the fulfillment of their promise. Legolas did 
not tire, nor did he rest, as he found more and more of his thoughts being led 
to one common destination:

-Aragorn-

{The King of Men...} he mused, as he allowed his eyes to search for the familiar 
shape of his friend {So regal is he, that already he seems above all of 
us...impertinent, so far from Kingdom or Crown and already he leads these 
mortals...he dares to call himself 'my' leader...}

{You are no man...}

{And yet I follow him...}

{Why do you, little one?}

{I know not...}

{Are you obligated to?}

{Nay}

{Why follow?}

{He's my friend...?}

{Is that a question or a statement?}

{A...question}

{Do not follow him}

{What?}

{Why should you?}

On one day they passed Tarlang's Neck and came into Lamedon; and the Shadow Host 
pressed behind and fear went on before them. That is where they rode now, 
nearing a darkness that would threaten to swallow them whole. 

"The Storm of Mordor," Legolas whispered to himself "The air is stale and 
oppressive...dark times draw closer."

"You state the obvious," came a sudden voice behind Legolas, and the Elf turned 
to meet the eyes of Gimli who studied him in exchange. "What are you not 
stating?"

Legolas looked down at the dwarf, turning back around on the saddle without a 
second thought. "Are you implying something, master dwarf?" He asked politely- 
coldly- not really caring. 

{Why care for this creature's opinion? Why care about anything at all?}

{You learn fast, little one}

{Learn what?}

{Listen to the shadows of this places...they call to you...}

Indeed they seemed to call, and Legolas found the whispers were not unpleasant. 

"Aye, I believe I am," Gimli muttered, answering his earlier inquiry "You are 
not yourself."

"You claim to know who I am?" he said lightly, focusing his gaze ahead into the 
shadows, finding that his eyes were once again drawn towards Aragorn- anger 
arose in him, when the man didn't even turn, when he must surely feel his gaze, 
but he clenched it down. 

"Perhaps he can't make that claim," interrupted another voice, and Legolas 
turned mild eyes to Elladan, who now rode alongside them "But I can."

"Can you now?" Legolas smiled tightly, and shook his head "interesting..."

"Legolas?" Elladan said softer now- softly enough to almost be drowned out by 
the terrible noise of their host "What has befallen you?"

{I am not forced to explain anything}

Legolas did not answer him immediately- was not planning in answering at all- 
but words left his lips without permission- words that did not reflect his 
currents thoughts and that brought memories of a time when he had known true 
fear. "Shadow and flame." He said it clearly- both dwarf and half-Elf heard it- 
yet the voice was broken, beaten down- almost separated from the proud being 
that sat in front of them.

"Legolas, stop your horse-we need to talk." Elladan realized it was the wrong 
thing to say when Legolas' gaze focused on him - the blue crystals reflecting 
pure ice- screaming at him with no words...

{He ordered you- he thinks he's above you- he thinks he knows you...}

{I don't even know me}

"You shall never address me such again," the Prince said simply. Not a request 
but a simple statement of a fact, then he urged his horse onwards, speeding away 
from Elladan's wide eyes. The half-Elf's blood froze in his veins at the 
words...at the threat...at the promise.

{You have just sealed your fate, you realize?}

{I realize}

{You made a promise}

{I did}

{Will you break it?}

{I will not}

{Then Elrond shall grieve the loss of a son?}

Eyes straying forward again, ignoring Gimli's repeated attempts to get him to 
explain what had just transpired, his gaze once again landed on the familiar 
shape looming ahead

-Aragorn-

{Perhaps he shall have to grieve more than one}

Legolas paid no mind to the faint whisper of despair that came with his thoughts 
beneath the dark shadows of the Storm of Mordor as they entered the town of 
Calembel upon Ciril, where the sun went down like blood and refused to rise once 
more. No dawn came after their halt on this place- and the shadows, indeed, 
seemed to swallow them whole.

****

{I shall die a traitor...} Legolas thought calmly, hours later, as he sat by 
himself on top of a rock {I shall kill my friends...I must- how can I not? They 
are no friends! They dare rise above me- they see themselves above me! How dare 
they? How dare they overlook me? They are but mortals- below me even if they 
were not...}

{You believe this?} The voice asked calmly, and this time- the voice sounded 
exactly like his voice, no tone he could not recognize it...the voice was he 
now...he could admit it. 

{A Prince of my people I am- and yet they treat me like a child! A child! How 
dare they? How can I not kill them? I must prove it to them; to all of them- 
just whom they are mocking...a warrior they mock...they trust me not. Aragorn 
calls himself a King of man, sees himself above me- even Gimli does! They dare 
to show me distrust...}

A whisper outside his mind interrupted him, and his startled eyes opened to look 
around. 

{There are voices in the air...} Legolas thought, as the cold touch of fear 
threatened to reach him in the dark. The company was taking a break in the town, 
and he found himself some feet away from the group- resting, breathing in the 
loneliness and the peace that it brought him. But the shadows were growing heavy 
around him- and the silence became voices. His mind taken away from Elladan, 
from death and dishonor - Legolas was sure now he could 
hear...calls...whispers...screams!

"The Child has come" A cold hand touched him- touched his face- froze him under 
its hold. "The Lord has won!" 

Chants of screams and laughter surrounded him, and Legolas was helpless under 
the touch of an invisible hand "Look at him..." 

"The Child is here" 

"Pretty toy..." 

"Breaking!" 

"Cracking" 

"The Ring is ours" 

"It shall be mine..." 

"The Eye can see you" 

"The Child is afraid" 

"The Lord is joyful!" 

"Look into his eyes..." 

"Just scream..."

Legolas' breathing became ragged, as he tried to fight off the invisible hold- 
but it was hopeless. Cold fingers gripped his face, tore at him, touched his 
body, his face, his hair...invisible fingers danced on his skin as he felt panic 
setting in. Suddenly there was silence again, and Legolas fell to his knees, 
exhausted, looking around as if waking from a nightmare. 

{Was I asleep?}

"Feel the change, ..." a clear voice cooed in his ear suddenly, and he jumped- 
eyes wide. While he felt his heart rate's speed back up, he searched the 
darkness for the source of the whisper. Nothing again- but it had certainly not 
been his imagination. 

The group stood away from him- even the ghostly army could be seen with them. 
Away from him-far, far...further than he could reach, it seemed...

"Do you feel it, child of darkness?" The voice was soft spoken...and deathly. 
Legolas jumped up from his kneeling position, unconsciously grabbing one of his 
long knives from its scabbard as he observed the darkness warily. There was 
laughter, and suddenly he was not alone once more. The shadows seemed to form 
shapes- looming over him, around him- everywhere-

{What is this sorcery? Who speaks?} He wanted to scream, but his voice was 
frozen- there were no assailants to fight off, nor a presence to be felt...there 
was nothing but the voices and the shadows...

{Hush now, princeling} His own voice said calmly- speaking from some far away 
corner in his frightened mind {Hear them...listen to the shadows...}

"The Child is scared!" Screamed a different voice, and Legolas felt his hands 
turning numb- heard the fall of his knife to the ground as his eyes focused on 
one particular shadow- one that seemed to surround him- to try to crush him...he 
was helpless, defenseless...transfixed by the play of shadows...

"He hears us! He can hear us!"

"More than that...he listens!"

"The Lord has won!"

"An Elf to play with...an Elf for us!"

"Who is there?" His own voice came out faint- no strength left behind it...he 
felt a paralyzing fear- there was no room for rational thoughts...the voices 
were calling him, were speaking to him, shattering everything else...he had but 
to listen.

"He answers us!" They cried- and the sounds were joyful, and frightening. "He 
can hear us- at last! He denies us no further! He speaks to us! The Child of 
Darkness has awakened!"

"What is this?" he whispered to no one in particular- searching to see beyond 
the shadows. He no longer could see the group a few feet away- he could not see 
them! There was only darkness, only shadow...!

"Little one..." The voice was inside his head no longer- was his any longer- but 
the possessive hiss could be well recognized- could it have materialized in 
these nightmarish shadows? Could his own mind become another being- another 
enemy?

"By the Valar!" Legolas screamed, his eyes wide, his limbs shaking- brought back 
from his trance by the all too real feeling of a hand tilting his face up.

"Legolas?"

Blinking he stared, and saw just the shadows around him, felt his skin bruise 
beneath the gentle hold on his face. He was shaking, eyes wide- but he could not 
move away...

"Legolas?"

The hand ran over his face, bruising its path through his skin- it hurt! It hurt 
him badly! The whispers and the screams continued, as some twisted song to 
accompany the panic. His breathing was too fast, but it did nothing to muffle 
their voices...

"The Child is frightened!"

"The Child is helpless!"

"The Child belongs to darkness now..."

"Nay..." He choked out- but they heard him not

"The Child can fight no longer!"

"Nay!" he screamed out, and felt the hands on his face tighten, felt blood on 
his face- felt the burning pain.

"Legolas!" his captor called to him, and he blinked again- the shadows 
remaining...

Suddenly the knife was on his hand- never had it been dropped to the ground- and 
his paralyzed limbs could be moved again. With the hands still on him, he did 
the only thing he could do against the bruising hold that held him captive...

{Fight!}

The knife pierced through flesh, as Legolas watched, spellbound, the slow 
appearance of blood that followed the shocked cry from his captor. There were 
hands on him again, but he could not fight them anymore, as he watched blood 
welling from the wound he had just caused. The whispers of the shadows sounded 
gleeful as he listened. 

"He has fallen!"

"He is ours..."

The hands on him were bruising him- but he welcomed the pain. Welcome the 
feel...of anything...

"Legolas!"

{The knife...is...where is...?}

He looked down in a daze, and found the knife buried in his own shoulder, blood 
dripping down his body. The voices screamed in his ear as he succumbed slowly to 
a more profound darkness than the one that surrounded him already. 

****

Aragorn held the limp body of his friend in his grasp, as Elrohir gently cleaned 
the wound on the archer's shoulder. Confusion welled in the ranger's mind- and 
despair more profound than any he thought he could know.

His friend seemed long gone now- Legolas had seemingly succumbed, at last.

"Darkness has claimed him." A voice announced suddenly, voicing his thoughts, 
and the ranger looked up to meet the troubled gaze of Elladan "I believe he 
could fight it no longer- I see no other explanation for this."

The human sighed, not knowing how to come into the prince's defense. Indeed- the 
Elf apparently had loss his battle, and the Ranger didn't know what this could 
mean- didn't know what they were to do now.... 

Surely not...kill him...? The human shuddered at the thought, and held the 
unconscious body a little tighter to himself. 

An unlikely voice spoke up then, and broke the tense silence of the group. "You 
think very little of him," said Gimli "if you think this stubborn Elf would 
surrender so easily-without a fight..."

"You can hardly say he did not fight, Gimli," Aragorn interrupted sadly "But he 
has been struggling since Moria...the further we go, the further he falls...and 
now...you did not see him just now..."

Aragorn thought back to the empty look in those familiar blue eyes, to the cold, 
clammy skin of the Elf as he had stood there, as if paralyzed, staring into 
nothing with a knife on his hand. When Aragorn had found him like this he had 
been worried at the lack of response- at the empty look- but his calls were 
ignored by the Elf, or perhaps not even heard. 

Legolas had been somewhere else...had seemingly been unaware that Aragorn had 
taken his face in his hands, that Aragorn had been calling his name. The Ranger 
never saw it coming, when suddenly Legolas was yelling out denials and then 
lifted the knife in his hand- his eyes never clearing - pushed the man away 
violently with the wooden handle before burying the blade into his own shoulder. 
Legolas had looked down then, and his blue eyes had apparently focused briefly 
on the blood, before collapsing into the Ranger's arms. 

The blank expression had never changed- not even in pain when the knife was 
buried into his shoulder. No, Aragorn held no other explanation besides saying 
that Legolas had finally succumbed to the weight of the shadow that haunted him. 

"He has not given up," Gimli said confidently. The man's gaze lifted to meet the 
eyes of the dwarf as he spoke next "I know he has not."

Elladan and Elrohir remained in silence, but Aragorn could see their doubts 
showing on their troubled eyes. When the younger twin was done bandaging the 
Prince's shoulder he sat back, and searched Aragorn's gaze. 

"We have to move, Estel- War does not wait for anyone," He said gently, before 
his gaze lowered to the pale face of Legolas and his eyes softened "What do we 
do?"

There was a short silence, then Elladan crouched down next to Aragorn, and began 
to gently put Legolas' tunic back on. "We go forward," he said resolutely "and 
we take him with us- he is no threat."

Aragorn mechanically helped his foster brother with the tunic, nodding his head 
as he did, ignoring the slight hesitance his brother's voice had held. 

"Of course he is no threat!" the dwarf chuckled mirthlessly "He is just one 
skinny Elf,"

Aragorn grinned faintly, while the twins remained impassive. "Are you quite sure 
he won't harm us?" Elrohir spoke softly, and all eyes turned to him "can we 
control him? He has harmed himself already...could have killed himself even, had 
he but buried the knife lower."

Aragorn stood from his seat, lifting the slender frame of Legolas easily into 
his arms "He will wake soon and he will not wake alone in these shadows. I could 
never do that to him-and neither could any of you. Let us continue our path 
towards Pelargir-with him." His statement was final and firm. Nobody questioned 
the decision further- nobody dared to- as they moved towards their horses, 
ignoring the questioning looks the other men directed towards the unconscious 
Elf in Aragorn's arms.

****

One would think unconsciousness would be best for a worn out soul- and one would 
be wrong. How could Legolas escape the shadows while trapped inside his own 
fogged mind? The whispers were relentless as he lay there- unable to fight back 
and walk away- trapped in a nightmare that could well be reality...

"Legolas," The commanding voice of his father boomed, and he whirled around, 
watching the King of the Northern Elves staring at him with ice on his gaze 
"Look where your weak heart has led you...is this all you can contribute to the 
world- only shadow and grief? Look around! Look around and tell me- what good is 
this all for?"

Afraid. Legolas was afraid to look, to face the shadows- what would he find? He 
could not do as his father bid him, and yet the anger in those eyes was growing, 
as he stood there, unable to obey a direct command. 

"Father this is not of my making..." He tried to explain, but his words went 
unheard. His mouth moved he knew he had spoken the words...yet the world, the 
very air around him seemed to swallow them.

"Look around!" His father said softly, menacingly, in a tone Legolas had only 
heard him use when talking of the vile creatures of Mordor. "Can you bring 
yourself to do that, boy? To see what you have done?"

Was this even his father? Legolas wondered, as he stood rooted to the spot, 
unable to look away from his father's gaze. Suddenly those eyes were no longer 
blue, they swirled and changed, and all became confusing. What was blue became 
black and where his father was, stood nothing. Hands guided him, moved, him 
around, forced him to open his eyes and face the world without his consent.

"Look around..." A deathly whisper in his ear, a simple command that this 
time-he could not refuse. Like it held a life of its own, his gaze moved and 
took in the decay and destruction that surrounded him. 

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to scream, to cry out. Instead there 
was not a sound, and the shadows that danced around him came closer, moving like 
flying creatures until they were inside of him, inside his mouth, gagging him 
and forcing their will on his body. He felt possessed, as his head moved from 
one side to the other, taking in the grotesque scene. 

He stood on the front steps of the palace of Mirkwood-green plants and trees had 
seemingly melted, leaving pools of slime in the grounds of the town. The houses 
and surrounding trees burned in dark fire, and all around him the dead bodies of 
friends lay decomposing. Pools of blood surrounding the corpses gave them a 
touch of colour that contrasted horribly with their pale skin and dried hairs. 
Some were barely recognizable as Elves- some were mere skeletons. Others lay 
there, eyes open and unseeing, all turned in his direction as he stood there- 
the only one standing. A hand landed suddenly on his shoulder as he watched, 
heavy and cold, and he could not turn around to see to whom it belonged. 

"Do you like what you see?" A voice hissed in his ear, "What you have done?"

"I have done nothing..." To even get the words out took more effort than he 
expected, almost more than he could handle.

"Nay?" The voice laughed, and its sounds was chillingly familiar "Look 
closer..."

And in one of the bodies there was a knife buried to the hilt in its throat- the 
head almost completely separated from the body. The mouth was opened in a silent 
scream, as the grey eyes stared at him dully. No life in them-a glazed fear 
frozen for eternity. The face of that body was decomposed almost beyond 
recognition- but he could identify the features nonetheless, as he could say to 
what house the clothes the corpse wore belonged to. He recognized the carved 
knife the body held. 

"Elladan...!" He whispered brokenly, wanting to go to his friend and make sure 
this wasn't real "Elladan..."

"Aye, 'tis the oldest twin of Elrond...surely you remember slaughtering him?" 
the voice cooed, as Legolas' blood ran cold in his veins "Surely you remember 
your promise to him?" 

"Not a promise..." The prince choked out, and the hand on his shoulder squeezed 
tighter.

Abruptly he was staring at his own face- hard and unforgiving, and he was facing 
Elladan's incredulous eyes as an oath filled the air around them.

"You shall never address me such again," Legolas' voice declared loudly.

And then he was back- Elladan's corpse rooting in front of his eyes. "I would 
dare say you meant that as an oath...I bet Elladan believes that as well." 
Laughed the voice of his captor "now, would you look at that?"

Cold fingers gripped his chin, and he was turned away from one proud son of 
Elrond, only to be faced with the other one. Elrohir was not decomposing yet, 
his features pale and clearly frozen in a grimace of anguish. A gaping wound was 
where his chest should be, and Legolas felt his stomach churn. 

"He tried to defend his brother, ..." the low voice said disapprovingly "against 
his own best friend..."

"It was not me," Legolas sobbed, breath catching "I would never..."

"Oh, but you would...you did..." The prince looked down to find his clothes 
covered in fresh blood- red, bright, blood- "he never saw it coming..."

Legolas closed his eyes, only to quickly reopen them in shock when he felt a 
stabbing pain on his shoulder. "Aragorn gave a mighty fight," came the whisper, 
"even managed to injure your shoulder before you killed him..."

Legolas felt his body turning around, walking towards the inside of the palace. 
His steps echoed clearly in the empty hallways as he walked, with no will of his 
own, towards the throne room. The voice was a constant with every step he took 
"You punished him for it, though..."

The great door of the room burst open- and there was Aragorn. Legolas fell to 
his knees and retched, wide eyes filling with tears while his breath came in 
sobs of despair. The icy hand was on him again- lifting his face and forcing to 
look. The man sat at the throne, a golden crown well placed on his head, which 
was on the ground. The headless body was surrounded by a sea of blood, marked 
with sword wounds of enough depth to make the body seem separated- as if cut 
into pieces. Images danced in front of his eyes- distant memories of the hoarse 
screams of his friend as Legolas ran him through with a sword- over and over- 
never lethal wounds, never finishing him off, until the sword was placed at the 
neck of the man, and...

Legolas retched again, felt invisible arms lifting him from the ground, holding 
him steady. 

"Now, now...this is what you wanted, is it not? To be the last one standing- to 
be the strong one...you proved your superiority to all of them...Princeling..." 

His vision went white when a wave of agony ran through his body, making every 
muscle tremble beneath its wake. The Elf fell to the ground, barely able to hold 
his weight while the agony subsided- his gasps for breath muffled by a laugh 
from the figure behind him. While the pain became a dull ache, Legolas held his 
breath until his lungs burned for air- and let it out in a rush when he realized 
that he regained the control over his limbs...but where could he run to, in this 
destroyed place? Who would help him? - Crystalline tears ran down his face in 
burning rivers as he thought of all the corpses...Elladan, Elrohir, Aragorn- had 
that been Haldir ran through with a sword? Had the skeleton with the clothes of 
Rivendell been Elrond or Glorfindel? 

"Don't weep now, little one...you'll show them weakness? You never know if they 
may be watching you still..."

"Be Silent! Just...do not talk...shut up..." Legolas screamed- his voice 
breaking while horrible images ran through his head-he lifted his gaze slowly to 
meet his own eyes in the figure in front of him "What did you make me do...?"

"I made you open your eyes..." The voice answered softly- the same voice that 
was with him since Moria...the same voice that had become such a part of himself 
over time, that it was frightening. The tone was soothing now, and an alien hand 
that looked like his came down to touch his face gently- it was freezing cold. 
"I helped you to see what they did to you- to see just how alone you were..." 

"I am alone now, " Legolas hissed, fury and despair intertwining in him on a 
dangerous mixture "How is that helping me? How did you help me at all? You 
haunted me for months...tormented my mind, my body...drove away my friends...and 
look at them now..."

"They are at your feet now," His look-alike laughed, standing up and walking 
away from him "Just like you wanted."

"I did not-"

"Do not waste your breath on me, little one-," The other said "I know your 
thoughts, your feelings- I know you better than you have ever known yourself. I 
know you as the scared child you are beneath the layers, and the masks...I know 
you without any of them to protect you..." he pointed at the rooting corpse of 
his once-best friend, but Legolas refused to look "I know you, child...and you 
wish to know me- do you not? You wish to see who hides wearing your face?"

Legolas met the blue orbs that observed him, and shakily stood from the ground 
on legs that threatened not to support his weight- "You are not I," he whispered 
dangerously "just as I thought...yet you always denied..."

"And you believed me? Above yourself? Does that not show you how insecure you 
are- how easily manipulated? They all used you, little one-you know it well- 
that is why you slaughtered them all in cold blood,"

"You slaughtered them!" Legolas yelled, trying to lurch himself at the leering 
figure, but he was easily sidestepped, and the shock combined with the confusion 
and anguish made his body heavy.

"Oh, poor child..." The other whispered, "I did nothing but give you the 
strength you lacked! You remember their murders, do you not? You remember their 
screams of betrayal and pain? You remember the satisfaction?"



And he did! Oh Valar, he did remember all of that- remembered and relived it 
second after second- horrid scenes dancing in front of his gaze. This 
nightmarish world turned and whirled before his eyes, to find himself once again 
covered in fresh blood, standing above the bodies of so many familiar faces...

"Legolas?" He looked up and met blue eyes of ice that had somehow escaped from a 
mirror "Do you want your answers?"

The Elf looked around where he stood -eyes weary and filled with tears- friends 
and family slaughtered, home burned to ashes...his world shred to pieces- he had 
no strength left, and he sat on the floor, uncaring for the blood that seeped 
through his clothes, uncaring of the pain that came from his injured 
shoulder...just...uncaring...

And it was so that the Prince of the Elves made a decision. Lifting his gaze and 
meeting those of his tormentor, he smiled slowly- a twisted, deranged smile. 
"Nay," His voice echoed in this place- and slowly, one by one the horrible 
images began to fade into blackness "From you- I want nothing further."

****

Aragorn was exhausted to say the least. Even while his foster brothers had 
repeatedly offered to help, he had rode with Legolas' unconscious form for hours 
on end, continuously struggling with the distraught body that at times tried to 
escape his hold, and at times burrowed closer to his embrace. The Ranger sighed, 
careful not to disturb his friend as he brushed a strand of blond hair away from 
the closed eyes. He was not used to this- not used to having Legolas in his 
arms, helpless and unreachable- was not used to not knowing what he could do to 
help his friend. Now when the company was giving the horses some time to recover 
from their unrelenting pace he could feel the whole of the situation taking its 
toll on him. 

"Estel," came the voice to his right and he turned slowly to meet Elrohir's eyes 
"There are decisions to be made."

The man sighed; nodding his head while his eyes strayed back to the now still 
form of the Prince of Mirkwood. Face strikingly pale, features drawn and 
troubled- the Elf seemed beyond anyone's help. "I know," he said simply "but the 
decision does not become any easier." 

The younger twin nodded in silence, taking a seat next to his foster brother 
while looking at his prostrated friend with pained eyes "I could ride back-" the 
half-Elf announced suddenly "I could ride back towards Rivendell with him, 
perhaps bring him to my father..."

Aragorn was already shaking his head when his brother's voice faded away "The 
path is far too long and hazardous for you to ride it alone, much less caring 
for Legolas- who could still wake up in the ride and try to head back here. 
Besides...Elladan and I both need you here..." the human stated calmly, then 
hesitating upon the words he lowered his voice "I need Legolas here as well."

Elrohir didn't answer, seemingly lost in thought as he stared into the horizon- 
the look reminded Aragorn of the empty look in Legolas' eyes and the memory 
brought back the feeling of despair, the anger and the helplessness of the 
entire situation. He screwed his eyes shut, fist clenching with the urge to do 
*something*, to fight against whatever was haunting Legolas, to beat everything 
ahead of them and just be able to breath, to live in peace...just to finally be 
able to see hope for all of them. Yet the future was as dim as the very lights 
of Mordor from his point of view. 

Sudden movement made him snap his eyes back open and he stared, incredulous, 
into the open eyes of Legolas, who was staring back intently. 

To be continued... in chapter 29