p>Disclaimer: I own NOTHING of middle-earth. All characters and places are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkein, save for the characters of Trelan and Reniean, which belong to Cassia and Sio (I obtained permssion to use them when I submitted this snippet to the Mellon Chronicles website).

Departures, Part One

Twilight bathed Imladris in hues of blue and violet. December snow clung to the crevices among the stone stairways and weathered statues as still gold and red leaves fluttered and fell. The elves were in their autum, preparing to leave middle-earth for the gray havens. But on this evening, an unlikely aliance of men, elves, dwarves, wizards and hobbits made other preparations. Upon the dawn, the Nine Walkers would depart Imladris for Mordor and the mountain of doom. It was December twenty-fourth, and their lives were about to change forever.

Legolas of Mirkwood, son of King Thranduil, stood beneath this last twilight in Rivendell with his friends Trelan and Raniean beneath a pair of statues at the foot of a stone staircase. Trelan's soft features were sullen, and his posture revealed his disagrement with his Prince's decision to aid in the One Ring's destruction. He leaned back against the statue to Legolas' right, his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in a soft tunic of gold and brown, with leggings of soft brown velvet. His feet were bare, having just followed Legolas from the Hall of Fire. The December chill did not touch Trelan. It did not touch any of the elven kin.

"...other elves that could be going." Trelan's soft voice in the gray tongue carried in the night air. "Glorfindel is more than qualified to accompany them."

Legolas nodded. He was dressed in a silver-blue tunic, one loaned to him by Elrohir, one of Elrond's twin sons. They were of similar build and height. Legolas' golden hair gleamed beneath the half-light, as did Raniean's and Trelan's. "We have gone over this for a month, Trelan. Yes, Glorfindel is more than qualified to go in my stead. I did not make this decision lightly. I promised Estel that I would follow him - a promise made the night before the council meeting. I am happy to do this, Trelan." He crossed his arms over his chest as the corners of his mouth turned up. "If Elrond had not had faith in me as a contributing member to this quest, and had thought Glorfindel a better choice, I would not be going."

Raniean, the taller of the two friends, gave a soft laugh. Dressed in a dark blue, velvet tunic and black leggings, the Mirkwood elf opened his arms in a gesture of appeasement. "Oh not very likely," he nodded his head toward his friend and prince. "Where Estel goes, you seem to follow. You would go whether you were wanted or not."

Trelan straightened up and put his hands to his sides. "Raniean's right. When you and Estel are together..." he did not finish, his meaning well understood between the three of them. Legolas and Estel's adventures together had usually ended in pain and torment - much to Lord Elrond's and King Thranduil's dismay. Legolas shot Raniean a hard look, but continued with his entrities.

"Please, both of you. If there is one thing we all have to worry about, tis not my safety, but the destruction of the ring." Legolas thought again of the deep, graveling voice in his mind that came from the ring as he had gazed at it while at Elrond's concil. The pain that accompanied Mithrandir's recital of the Black Speech still echoed behind his eyes and he shuddered inwardly. The physical power of the ring had been exhibited when Gimli, Son of Gloin, had attempted to bash the simple gold band. The axe had disentegrated.

A dwarf's axe...utterly destroyed.

Ah, but leave it to a dwarf to act so brashly.

Raniean nodded. "You are right. The Ring's destruction is where our prayers to the Valar should be." He turned and reached a hand out to Legolas' shoulder with a firm grip. "I will tell your father, but I will not leave tonight as you have asked. Trelan and I will remain here until the dawn. I will see you off safely, my Prince."

Legolas shook his head. "You both are the most frustrating of elves."

A smile finally broke Trelan's scowl. "Isn't that a dead argument as well?"

Legolas, after leaving Trelan and Raniean for the night, wandered back into the Hall of Fire. He was looking for Estel, but was told his friend was with Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond's twin sons. Legolas laughed at this - he could only imagine the sage advice those two were filling Estel's head with. He knew his closest friend was now years beyond holding to any tricks the twins attempted - but still it brought back old memories.

Looking for the trio, the elf Prince stepped back out into the night and slowly descended the stone stairs to where he, Reniean and Trelan had spoken. As he passed beneath the statues and starry wreath, a soft sigh break the night. He paused and looked around him for the source. A figure stepped out from an archway before him and his heart caught for a second.

"Undomiel," Legolas gave a slight bow, "you startled me."

Elrond's daughter gave him a half smile with her full, pouty lips. Her expression was somber, and she kept her hands clasped before her. Her gown of shiny gold and burgundy weave glimmered beneath the lamps addorning the stairs. Someone must have come and set their flames when Legolas stepped inside. "Mae govannen, Legolas."

He raised his eyebrows in concern. "Was it your sigh that I heard? It was quite a heavy exclamation."

She focused her soft blue gaze on him and nodded. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I have been looking for Estel."

"I have heard he is with your brothers," Legolas smiled. "I was looking for him myself. I feel he might be in need of rescuing."

"Indeed, he might. I need to talk to him -" Arwen paused. Then, with a determined look, she said, "Legolas, he is pulling away from me."

"Estel?" The elven Prince took a step closer to Arwen. "Perhaps he is only thinking of tomorrow and what lies beyond. As long as I have known him, Strider has often kept his emotions to himself when he believed there was danger. He does this even more so since our travels together. Perhaps he is concentrating on what dangers lay ahead for all of us at dawn."

She shook her head slowly. "I wish I could believe that," she smiled at him, but the smile did not touch her eyes. "I feel something has changed between us. It frightens me."

"Frighten? You?" Legolas stepped forward and took her hands in his. Her slender fingers were cold and he clasped them tighter. He held her gaze in his. "Arwen Undomiel - I have never known you to be frightened of anything. Put the fear away - I can assure you that Estel loves you and that he desires you."

The wind rustled the trees around them and more autum leaves fell. A chill played along Legolas' spine and he shivered. As did Arwen. He did not believe it was the cold, but the approaching doom that hung above middle-earth if their quest failed. His race was so sensitive to the earth - here in Imladris, where spiders did not web the wood and darkness from the Necromancer had not tainted the very air, he could feel the world holding its breath. Her eyes grew wider and she stepped toward Legolas.

"I could not live in this world without him. Yet..." she lowered her gaze. "I fear he will not want me to stay."

"What has he spoken to leave you with such a fear?"

She looked looked into Legolas' eyes and he was struck as always at their deep blue color. "That is where my fear comes from - he has said nothing to me in two days."

Legolas pursed his lips in thought. If indeed Aragorn had chosen not to remain with Arwen once the ring is destroyed, there was nothing Legolas could do save berate him endlessly. Only Estel's heart could change his mind. Through their long years together as friends and traveling companions, Legolas knew that sometimes Strider protected those he loved by pushing them away, always thinking of their own health and happiness before his own. The elf prince had been the subject of that devotion many times in the years since their first meeting.

Legolas took Arwen by the shoulders. "Arwen, no matter what he says, he feels only love. Whatever he does, don't back down. Don't add burden to his shoulders - for tomorrow will be heavy enough. But in the end, know that Estel loves you. He loves you with every fiber inside of him. Be firm. Be strong. Be Undómiel."

She searched his face with her gaze. "Oh Legolas...if I could be as confident as you. If I could go with you and protect him..."

"Remain here, Arwen," he shook his head. "I will watch over him. I give you this promise. But you must promise to watch over yourself. Estel is full of thoughts, many of which will be fear of his own future. He has not given form to your fears."

"Promise me again, Legolas, that you will watch over him. You will protect him."

Legolas took both her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes. "I promise you, Undómiel. I will protect him with my life."

With a soft touch of her hand on his cheek, Arwen turned and moved into the darkening night.

Legolas felt dizzy for an instant, the place on his cheek where Arwen touched him tingled. He moved back to one of the statues and put a bracing hand against the ice-cold stone. Whatever power he had just issued in that oath, the Valar had seen fit to embody it. And Arwen would accept nothing less.

The night wore much later before Legolas found his old friend. The Ranger was seated in the room where Narsil, the broken sword of his forefathers, rested. Just beyond the statue was the platform where two months before, Elrond had held his council and the Nine had been chosen. Behind Legolas, on the wall, was the painting depicting the cutting of the one ring from Sauron's hand.

"Estel?"

"Legolas," Aragorn's voice was gruff, firm, no-nonsense. It appeared the Ranger had not heard his friend's approach.

"I believed you were with Elrohir and Elladan?" He gave a half smile. "I wondered if you were in need of salvation."

"They have retired to bed." Estel stood. "Are you packed and ready? I would advise getting some sleep. It will be the last you orI will enjoy in a soft bed."

Legolas strolled toward Estel, the night's chill rustling the leaves that blew into the open room. "And this has never happened to us before? Sleeping on rock and stone? Cowering in stables of hay or beneath trees or perhaps in them?"

Estel's stern look melted and he smiled. Though Legolas noted it was a sad one. "True, mellon nin. You and I are accustomed to so many hardships. But the hobbits..." he shook his head and glanced behind him to the building over the river where they slept. "Times will be hard. The weather cruel. And the Nazgul will be at our heels."

"And Saruman." Legolas stood before the statue that bore the broken sword. He looked up into the serene face of the cold stone. "We can't forget he who once guided The White Council."

Estel nodded. "Elrond seemed very shaken by Gandalf's news of his betrayal." The Ranger moved away from Legolas, his arms crossed over his chest. He moved to the farthest edge of the room and looked out over the moonlit night.

Neither spoke for an instant. Legolas was compelled to address Arwen's concerns with his old friend. Yet, he hesitated, sensing a distance between he and Estel. This was a seperation he had not noticed before. Indeed - Estel seemed different. Aloof. More the Ranger now than ever before.

Dúnadain.

Estel turned his back to Legolas and gripped the stone railing. The night was dark and obscured much of the gardens below. "You have something you need to ask me?"

"I -" the prince gave a sigh. "It is Undómiel. She is worried you are pulling away from her."

"Mine and Arwen's relationship is none of your concern, Legolas Greenleaf. Please do not tread where you do not understand."

If Legolas were anyone else - perhaps another man or even a hobbit - he might have taken offense to Aragorn's strong words and much stronger tone. But the elf had known this Ranger far too long. He heard worry and self doubt in the human's voice. "I understand that you love each other."

Estel lowered his head. His shoulders sagged. "You are the only one, Legolas. But what I do, I do now for the future of middle-earth. My decisions - those I choose - are just those." He turned to face the elf. "They are mine. And whatever Arwen and I - whatever the future holds for me - I tread that path. Alone."

There was nothing Legolas could say. No clever words came to him. He could see the grief in his friend's eyes, see the sadness in his face. The decision was there. And he would not allow any intervention - not even from old friends. Legolas nodded. "I see."

Estel turned away, again looking out over the dark night.

Estel shiver slightly.

Legolas broke the silence. "Let us go inside, so that you can warm yourself by the fire." He moved from the sword to stand directly behind Estel.

"No," the Ranger shook his head. "There is no warmth for me - nor will there be for many nights. I know what must be done, and I understand the sacrificies we will all have to make." He turned his head to his right, but did not face Legolas. "Mellon - I need peace for a while." He looked up into the sky.

Legolas looked up as well and saw Eárendïl shining brightly. "Peace could be achieved easier if one is warm and comfortable."

To the elf's surprise, the Ranger laughed softly. He then turned and faced Legolas. His arms unfolded and he clasped one to each of Legolas' shoulders. "You have always been a brighter spot in this world." His smile faded, a little. "I have made peace with my Father - and with the object of his concern. I must now make peace with myself, before I set upon this quest. I need time to think - time that is not full of questions that I am not prepared to answer."

Estel removed his hands and stepped back. Legolas felt as if his friend had taken a much larger step away, more than just the physical one.

"Go and rest. I will see you in the dawn." The tone was dismissive. The prince did not feel slighted, having known Estel for so very long. Soon he would come into his birthright, and the worries of the world weigh heavier on him than they did at this very moment. The best Legolas could do was support the future King as best he could.

With a sigh, Legolas turned to leave.

"I am glad you will be with me, mellon nin." Estel's voice was low, quiet, and only heard by Legolas' ears.

The Prince did not turn, but smiled and continued inside the house of Elrond.

Legolas' rooms at Imladris were beautiful, and luxurious, decorated in the colors of autumn, so very different from his home in Mirkwood. Legolas allowed himself a deep sleep, after having searched the grounds for Arwen and not finding her. He knew sleep would benefit them all - Legolas would need to be alert to all dangers from now until the Ring was destroyed. Whatever path that may lead him on.

Awake well before the fellowship's departure, Legolas dressed in the clothes he'd arrived in, on that day two months passed. A simple layering of blue, brown and green. The sun had not yet crested the tops of the mountains surrounding Imladris. He checked his quiver for the seventh time and double-checked his arrows and their fletchings. He was as ready as he would ever be to begin the long road.

Someone knocked on his door and before he could cross the room, Arwen stepped inside. She wore a gown of shimmering blue and silver, her hair pulled back above her brow and held there by a silver crown. Her eyes were red and the corners of her mouth pulled down in sorrow. He stopped in the center of his room before the crackling fire. He knew then what Estel had done.

Arwen came to him quickly as he opened his arms wide and held her. Her shoulders shook with sobs. He too felt her rolling emotions but held himself firm. Kissing the top of her head, the prince said, "He did not mean it."

"Yes, he did," her voice was muffled as she spoke into his thick tunic. "I saw it in his eyes."

Legolas pulled her to a small couch beside the fire. Arwen sat beside him and laid her head against his shoulder. "No, Aragorn did not mean what it was he said."

" 'Edra le men, men na guil edwen... haer o auth a nir a naeth.' Those were his words." She sniffed. "He said it was a dream, he and I. Nothing more."

Legolas closed his eyes. Even in the common tongue, the words were sad yet poignant. ~You have a chance for another life ...away from war... grief... despair ~ for this was what his friend had spoken in the grey tongue. He remembered Estel's words from their earlier conversation - that he had made peace with his Father.

Elrond.

Legolas was well aware of the Elven Lord's disapproval of Arwen's choice of remaining in middle-earth. To do so meant choosing a mortal life, forfeiting the undying lands and the chance to see her mother again.

"Arwen, I do not believe this is what he feels."

She sniffed. "He tried to give the evenstar back."

Legolas raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I told him to keep it."

"Then you did well," he gently moved her away from his shoulder. She sat up and faced him. "You did as I suggested. I have no doubt that his words to you were those spoken because someone else worries over your future."

Arwen frowned, then her dark, delicate eyebrows arched up. "My father?"

With a sigh Legolas nodded. "Elrond has only a father's love for you. He wants you with him, safe, and alive. If you remain here," the elven prince stopped, the unspoken meaning clear to both of them.

"It is my choice to make." Her voice was low, her eyes red-rimmed with tears.

"Arwen, Estel loves you. He has loved you from the moment he saw you. Believe me in this if you believe nothing else in your life. I have heard of you and your beauty for years," a grin broke his face and Arwen gave a shy smile. "Yes, I have. I have heard of his love until I am sick of it. For him to tell you such a thing - it is because he is worried. This fellowship is setting out to the very fires of Mount Doom itself, Arwen. There is no guarantee any of us will return. He does not want you to wait for him, if he does not survive. He cannot lead this quest if part of him remains here."

Her smile remained, and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her left hand. "You would think I were a babe in my mother's arms the way I cry." Arwen blinked several times. "I understand what you tell me, Legolas. I do. I agreed to do as he asked, but I will not travel with the ships to Valinor. Not even if my Father begs it of me."

"Arwen..." Legolas could not keep the warning from his voice.

"No, hear me out. I will stay here, and I will watch him from afar. This I can do. But I will need another promise from you, Prince of Mirkwood."

"I already pledged to keep him safe, my Lady." Legolas remembered the tingle in his cheek and the slight dizziness he'd experienced earlier. "You do not need another."

"And the Valar will hold you to this," she gave him a softer smile. "But there is another danger - though I belive him strong enough to overcome it. He is descedant of Isuldir, Legolas. He is a man. You must promise me, that if the Ring takes him -"

Legolas put up a hand, unwilling to believe such a thing. There is no possible way the ring's evil could touch Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He would not accept it.

"Legolas," Arwen took his hand in hers. Her voice lowered incredibly so, and he saw the depths of her age in her eyes. "There is always the possibility. If it happens, don't let it take him. Promise me the Dark Lord will not destroy the one man who can rise against him. I do not ask this of you lightly, nor do I ask it of myself - for I am not a babe, not truly in this world. I understand the importance of what he must do. He is not like those before him. He is strong. But..." she let her words trail away, but the elven prince understood where her thoughts traveled.

Without hesitation, Legolas rose. He placed his hand over his heart, then opened it outward. "I promise you this, Undomiel. I will stay loyal to him, and I will not let the ring take him. Whatever gifts the Valar have given me, I will pledge them to keeping him out of the hands of darkness." Again came the dizziness and Arwen stood and placed both hands on his shoulders. He smiled at her as he placed his on her shoulders to steady himself. "I must watch my oaths, dear Lady. I'm afraid there will be nothing left of me if I continue in this manner."

Arwen smiled at him. She put a hand to each side of his head and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him on the forehead. "You are indeed a prince, Legolas Greenleaf. The Valar favor you." She released him and moved to his bed. There she gathered up his quiver and turned to him."If I cannot help my heart's desire, then let me aid my elven kin." She buckled the quiver in place, then sheathed his two white handled elven blades. With practiced ease Legolas fastened his bow to the quiver behind him. Arwen moved to stand by the fireplace, her gaze fastened on the prince as he strode toward her. "It is a great honor to represent our people, Legolas Greenleaf. You look formidable."

"And you look terrible." He took in her full appearance now that he was ready to proceed with the dawn departing. "You have not slept."

"I will sleep when you depart." She looked back into the fire. "But for now, please, let me remain here. I fear I am not done weeping."

Legolas gave Arwen a final embrace. "May the Valar protect you," she said in the grey tongue.

"And you as well, Undomiel." He moved away from her, gave a small bow, then strode out of the room and into the hall.

Legolas was stopped by Elladan and Elrohir before he walked past the front doors.

"Legolas!" Elrohir called.

The prince turned as the two dark-haired sons of Elrond hurried toward him. They were dressed as opposites, in formal wear of blue and dark purple. Their hair, usually combed up into braids, lay softly along their broad shoulders.

Elladan said, his voice low. "I fear what Estel has done is wrong."

Legolas frowned, but a smile traced his lips. "Is it the entire house's business what happens between your sister and Estel?"

"It is when they both suffer," Elrohir said. "I do not like this. He is making a mistake."

"Then you know what it is he said to her," Legolas looked from one to the other. "May I ask how? Because I am almost positive Arwen did not confide in you."

The Twins looked at each other. Elladan was the first to face Legolas. His grey eyes were dark and full of storms. "We listened - just now. Elrohir heard her weeping during the night, and we followed her to your room." The elder elf gave a slight bow toward Legolas. "What you told her - it is such a great responsibility for one so young."

"Who are you calling young?" Legolas raised a dark eyebrow at the twin.

Elrohir put up his right hand. "You know what we mean. Let us carry some of the burden. Know that when we are needed, you have but to call, and the sons of Elrond will be at your side. Though he would not hear it from us, make sure Estel knows this."

He looked from one twin to the other. "I will accept that. But one condition."

"Anything," the twins said in unison.

Legolas crossed his arms over his chest. The quiver and bow shifted against his back. "Estel will survive and he will return for the Undomiel - of this I hold fast to believing. But, she has to stand steadfast to the decision he has forced upon her. For now at least. Estel must believe that she is safe - gone on to the grey havens. If he fears she is in danger, he will not be able to act upon his destiny. I hope that she understands this as well."

The twins nodded.

"She will need your support," Legolas looked to each of them in turn. "Both of you. Don't let her fall into despair. That is my only worry."

"We will not travel to the gray havens until the ring is destroyed, even if beyond that," Elladan said. "We make a promise to you, and to Arwen," he put his right hand on Legolas' left shoulder.

"We will not let despair take her." Elrohir placed his left hand on Legolas' right shoulder. The prince of Mirkwood placed his hands on their outstretched arms. "Hope is what we have. Hope is what will lead us to protect middle-earth. And, in essence, hope leads us," he referred to the elven name Elrond had given Aragorn. Estel. "If we fail in our mission, Sauron will cover the lands in darkness. There will be no more Imladris, no more Lorien, no Mirkwood," he took a deep breath. "No more Undomiel."

Elladan removed his hand from the prince, placed it over his heart and held it out in a traditional elven fairwell. "Deriband, Legolas Thrandulion."

Legolas returned the gesture. But Elrohir broke with tradition as he stepped forward and took Legolas into a warm embrace. "Keep our little brother safe, Greenleaf," he whispered in the prince's ear.

Legolas chuckled to himself. With all the promises of keeping Estel safe, when would he have time to keep Frodo from harm? With a final nod to each of them, the Prince of Mirkwood moved past them to the doors of Elrond's home and the courtyard beyond.

"Legolas."

The prince turned to his right before descending the stairs down to the front gates of Imladris. Who could be calling to him now? Estel stood several feet away. He was dressed in a simple dark shirt and dark trousers. He did not wear his coat, nor his bedroll and short-bow. His sword hung at his side. "Estel."

"You are rested?"

Legolas eyed his friend warily. "Yes - very much. Have you and Gandalf discussed our path to Mordor?"

Estel nodded. "At great length, I'm afraid. I have just left him."

"Then you are ready?"

"I am..." he paused. "I have a few things I need to attend to." He glanced behind him to a shaded path that led to the woods.

To Gilrean's memorial.

The prince nodded. "Then I will leave you to your thoughts." As he turned to go, Estel called his name again.

Legolas looked back at him, turning at the waist, his dark eyebrows arched in question.

Aragorn's expression was passive, unreadable. "What I did..." he shook his head. "I did because I love her. Don't think ill of me."

"It is not to me you owe an explanation, Strider." Legolas purposefully used the nickname he'd given to Estel upon their first meeting. He was not Estel now, but the ranger, the Dunadan that would lead them all to the Mountain of Doom. For now, on their journey, the time of formality and duty had begun. "You are right in believing she came to me. She did. I comforted her as best I could." Legolas fixed his brow in a straight line, knowing it gave him a stern countenance. "You have much changed since I last saw you, Strider. You have become much the hardened Ranger. In your face I see lines, weighed down with pain and responsibility. You rarely smile, old friend. You will not allow yourself happiness, not even its promise. But in your eyes I still see the human I befriended - the human your father named --hope- - the human that will lead this quest - the human that will one day take his rightful place." He gave a slight smile. "You do what you feel is right. And I will do what I feel is right. And though our paths in this manner be different, our ultimate end is the same."

"What does that mean?"

But Legolas was done talking. He knew his words to Estel were vague - but the elf understood them. Aragorn believed he must distance himself from Arwen for her protection and his own. Legolas would keep himself near, to protect the both of them.

He turned and moved quickly down the stairs to where Boromir and two of the hobbits waited in the courtyard.

Eight of the Nine stood near the gates. Arwen stood flanked by Trelan and Raniean. They were packed and ready to depart once the Nine had left.Arwen's expression was firm, yet Legolas could see the sadness and hurt in her blue eyes.

As Elrond and Estel approached from the direction of Gilraen's memorial, Legolas stepped forward to Arwen. She smiled at him, her left hand at her breast. Legolas placed his right hand at his. In unison they held their opposing hands out, then touched one another's cheeks in a parting farewell.

"Namarie," she said softly. "May the peace of the Valar protect you."

"And you, Undomiel," Legolas turned and kissed her hand as it remained on his cheek. "I will watch him, Arwen. I have promised."

"I know, dear prince. I know."

He bowed to her and lowered his hand. She lowered hers, and then her gaze was drawn away from Legolas to something behind him. He turned and saw Aragorn had joined the others, though the ranger's gaze was focused on the fair maiden beside Legolas. Legolas took his place to the right of Boromir as Elrond stepped up and bade the Fellowship farewell.

*Permission was granted by Cassia and Sio to reference events in the Mellon Chronicles.*

Crebain, Part Two

The sun was setting on the Fellowship's third day out from Imladris. The December air warmed slightly as the party traveled South, past many ruins of days gone by. Some of the crumbling monuments Aragorn recognized, and many he'd intended on exploring during his years as a Ranger. But time and duty had intervened, and now his life seemed to have culminated to this one quest. A sense of urgency pushed him harder, as well as his need to keep pace with Gandalf, who traveled as if the very winds of Mordor pulled at him.

Taking the rear of their group, the ranger kept a close eye on the hobbits, Frodo in particular. The wound from the Morgul blade had not completely healed. Gandalf claimed it never would. Frodo would carry it for the rest of his life. Aragorn's larger concern delt with whether or not the wound would fester later on, or if the poison still residing in the hobbit would act as a beacon should the Nazgûl draw near.

Such musings kept his mind off of other things that troubled him, one of them being a sullen face with beautiful blue eyes that watched over him in his dreams. He knew his decision to break away from the Undomiel was the right one; and his father was happy with that choice as well, but Aragorn's heart was torn, bruised, and ached deep inside his soul. Leaving her felt as if he'd left a part of himself behind; a part that he could never replace.

Ahead of him, in front, Legolas walked tall beside Gandalf, elf and wizard speaking in the grey tongue at times. They kept just ahead of the fellowship, stopping from time to time, discussing their road, one or the other pointing off in one direction. Before their departure, Gandalf had conferred with Aragorn on the best road to the Mountain of Doom, but it was on the elf's keen senses the wizard depended now. Aragorn's skills at tracking were unmatched, but he could not see the beak of a crebain a league away nor hear the drum of goblins miles before their arrival.

Brisk wind blew down from the Caradhras as the party turned south-east. The hobbits Merry and Pippin talked quietly amongst themselves. Sam had remained silent for the last hour, his gaze shifting to Frodo continuously. The ring bearer had also remained quiet, almost pensive. Aragorn could only guess the thoughts that ran through the hobbit's mind. So much responsibility rested on Frodo's shoulders. Aragorn could understand, for his own future was wrought with innuendo and uncertainty. Some said he was to be a King, others believed he was simply a coward who ran from his responsibility. The later he saw in Boromir's eyes during those brief glimpses when he caught the Gondorian staring at him.

The ranger's thoughts returned again and again to Arwen and the emptiness in his heart. His attention was focused so much on his memory of the look in her eye upon their parting as he left the gates of the only home he'd ever known, that he came up short behind Boromir as the company came to a stop. Gandalf suggested a nearby rock outcropping as a place to camp for the night. Aragorn had not noticed the time of day, and was surprised to see the sun sinking below the mountain range.

As Sam cooked an evening meal, and the hobbits settled in with light talk and laughter, Aragorn noticed Legolas was no longer sitting among them in the circle. Boromir had also left. Nodding to Gandalf seated beside Frodo, the two of them smoking steadily on pipe-weed, the ranger moved out of the comforting light and heat of the fire.

He listened to the night, cold wind moving his dark brown hair about his face. He heard conversation to his right near a cropping of rocks. He recognized Boromir's voice immediately - the Gondorian's tone urgent but low. Aragorn moved quietly toward the rocks and was surprised to see his friend standing in what he recognized as a fight-ready stance. Legolas' back was against the largest of the rocks. Boromir stood in front of him, blocking any easy way around the human. The elf's quiver and arrows lay on one of the knee high rocks, and Aragorn believed the elf had been checking his fletchings when the Gondorian had approached him.

Legolas' bow lay propped on the other side of the smaller rocks, inaccessible to the elf. He held an arrow down low in his right hand, its tip pointing toward Boromir, who was gesturing emphatically as he spoke.

The elf's voice was just as low and insistant. "We travel west of the Misty Mountains. That is Gandalf's course. We will reach the Gap of Rohan - but then we turn west."

"If we travel to Rohan, then why not on to Minas Tirith? We could pick up re-enforcements, men who can protect the ring. Then we can march straight into Mordor and do what must be done."

It seemed to Aragorn that Boromir had trouble actually vocalizing the destruction of the ring. Perhaps the thought of its destruction was indeed to painful for the Gondorian to withstand? The Ranger knew the extend to which Boromir desired to use the Ring to destroy Gondor's enemies, but the man did not - or perhaps could not - understand the enormity of the Ring's evil. For if Gandalf the Grey feared it turning his own good nature to that of evil and darkness, what hope could simple men have?

The ranger started to take a step toward the two. Perhaps Boromir believed he could persuade the wizard to head into Gondor by convincing the elf. Boromir had the right to wish to protect the White City, but he had no business harassing Legolas, not that Aragorn had said three words to his old friend since their departure from Imladris. There was a tension between them Aragorn did not understand, but he knew it wasn't placed there by the elf, but by his own fears and doubts.

Aragorn paused when he heard Legolas speak. The elf's voice was low, and his tone was not one the ranger believed the Gondorian should toy with. "The whole purpose of the Nine is safety in invisibility, Boromir of Gondor. Marching into Minas Tirith with the ring? Marching into Mordor with flags waving? That is suicide. It is with the cloak of secrecy that we can tiptoe into Mordor, beneath the noses of the Dark Lord's spies and destroy the ring."

"And who are you to say where we go?" Boromir took a single step closer. "Who are you to lead us? Who are you that Gandalf Greyhem takes council from?"

Aragorn was behind Boromir in three steps. "He is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, son of King Thranduil. You would do wise to listen to him."

Boromir whirled, his hand on his sword hilt. At the sight of Aragorn behind him, he did not draw his weapon. His eyes grew darker beneath the moonlight and his brows knitted together. "A prince?"

"Aye," Aragorn nodded. There was symmetry in him coming to Legolas' defense, just as the elf had come to his defense in the council meeting. "He lived during the Battle of the Five Armies. He has the experience of generations of lifetimes of men, long before your ancestors rose to the stewardship of Gondor. His keen senses are what Mithrandir depends upon, not his leadership skills." Aragorn looked past Boromir to his friend. A half smile pulled at the elf's lips. The ranger looked back to the Gondorian. "Though I know from experience he can lead. His father is a good King, and teacher."

Boromir's eyes searched Aragorn's face. "I only wish to protect Frodo and the ring." He cast his glance away. "I worry for my people, Aragorn." He looked back to the Ranger with a fierce gaze. "I worry for our people."

"I'm sure you do," Aragorn said, a bit more patronizingly than he intended. There was much to Boromir that he did not know; what drove him, what dreams haunted him at night that caused him to toss and turn upon his bedroll. Aragorn knew he was wrong in judging the man, and wished he did not suspect the man so.

Quicker than Aragorn had seen in many years, Legolas lept over the rock, retrieved his bow, and with the arrow he'd clutched in his hand, sent the deadly shaft off into the darkness with an audible "thwang".

Boromir turned again, and the two humans watched as the elf nimbly ran off into the darkness. Boromir drew his blade, and crouched. "Did his keen senses detect enemies?"

Aragorn laughed softly when he saw Legolas jogging back, a rabbit held in his hand. The elf offered the prize to Boromir. "You did not eat earlier."

Aragorn believed the man would refuse the gift. Instead the Gondorian resheathed his sword and took the rabbit. "So, we are not enemies?"

Legolas shook his head. "We wish the same thing - the safety of Middle-Earth. I am not your enemy, Boromir of Gondor. None of us are."

Boromir nodded slowly, his gaze studying the elf in the moonlight. He held the rabbit up so as to see it clearer. "A fine catch. I'll see if Sam would like to add another meat to the pan." He nodded to the elf, nodded to Aragorn, then moved away from them, back in the direction of the fire.

When Boromir was out of sight, Aragorn turned back to Legolas, but the elf was no longer standing before him. He was sitting relaxed upon the rock, carefully returning his arrows to his quiver. The distance the ranger had felt widening since their departure now threatened to become a chasm.

With a deep breath, he approached his old friend. "In Rivendell...I didn't mean to imply..."

Legolas set his quiver down and spoke at the same time. "With Undómiel, I didn't mean to imply..."

Both stopped and grinned at one another. The air filled with the nervous laughter of unspoken misunderstandings.

"I'm sorry about Boromir." Aragorn said.

"About Boromir?" Legolas looked to his right at the night as he spoke. "You needn't be. He can't help the way he feels. He is worried about his father and his home." The elf's pupils were wide, drinking in the moonlight, making his irises completely black. "As I worry about my own home and how the evil still spreads though the Necromancer has been long gone from Dol Guldur." He looked at Aragorn. "There is great darkness near us here, mellon-nin. And it is looking for us."

The ranger felt a shiver travel from his neck to his lower back as the elf turned that erie gaze on him. Legolas glowed softly in the dark, as all elves did. It was in that light that he saw his old friend smile at him. "Are you no longer angry at me?"

"Angry?" Aragorn shook his head quickly. "I have never been angry with you, mellon nin - only maybe..." he shrugged. "You could comfort her. I could only..."

"Break her heart," Legolas finished for him.

"No, no. I did not intend that. Arwen is strong - she understands what lies before us." He leaned his head to the left. "Are you angry with me? For what I did?"

The elf shook his head, though his attention was again drawn into the night. "I understand, Strider. She will be safe in the grey havens. And you will fullfill your destiny." He turned and fixed Aragorn with a willful stare. "And I will be beside you. Every step."

"Is that what you meant, when you said that our ends were the same, even if our paths were different?"

Legolas smiled, and Aragorn was as always taken with how young the elf appeared to be. "Perhaps."

There was a pause before the night was filled with soft laughter between old friends. Aragorn held his right hand out to Legolas, and the elf clasped it with his own right hand. To Aragorn's surprise, the elf pulled him forward and took him into a warm embrace.

"Beware the Gondorian, Estel," Legolas whispered in his ear. "The Ring makes treachery there - and we cannot let him falter in this quest. It could be our undoing."

Aragorn stepped back and looped his thumbs upon the top of his leather belt. "I know," Aragorn's voice sounded heavy, even to his own ears.

Legolas nodded slowly. His gaze turned again to the night. The constant attention the elf turned to something he could not see or hear filled Aragorn with unease. "Mellon-nin, do you sense something?"

"Always," the elf's voice was soft, his attention focused on things beyond the ranger's mortal senses. "We have enemies everywhere. I can feel a great arm reaching out, over the mountains, searching for us."

"Saruman?" Aragorn's jaw tightened. Damn the old wizard for falling into darkness. An Istari of the white would be a valuable ally to have right now. "No more distance between us, Legolas. We need to focus on our quest - on saving middle earth from darkness."

"Aye..." Legolas nodded slowly. He narrowed his eyes as he looked into the night. The moon overhead only aided his ethereal elven glow. "The sky is watching."

Aragorn shivered. A wolf howled in the night.

For three days more Legolas and Gandalf lead the Fellowship over the outcroppings of rocks and stones, heading south. The elf kept a step or two in front of the wizard as the Istari checked on those behind them. A mile ahead Legolas caught site of a small flat area upon a hill. He suggested to Gandalf they stop, as Pippin had asked him that morning for a chance at "second breakfast".

Legolas had developed a fondness for the young hobbit, who often brought a smile to his face even if the dwarf could take it away. Gimli had done nothing but complain since their course turned south-east. In an odd moment, the small creature had suggested to Legolas that visiting his cousin Balin in Moria would remove weeks from their travels.

The elf had shivered at the thought of descending into Moria again. Bad things had happened to he and Aragorn there. On their first visit together, Legolas believed he'd nearly lost Aragorn to the orcs, his friend suffering pain and torture at their hands. He himself had been infected with a Morgul poison that had nearly ended his life. Another memorable instance had been when he and Aragorn were smuggled out in sacks - not an experience he wanted the dwarf to know about.

Legolas had immediately told the dwarf no. Mithrandir lead the Fellowship down the safest road. Gimli had muttered something in dwarvish and ambled off.

As the Fellowship settled themselves among the rocks, Legolas kept sentry - his senses detecting something present. Though he couldn't discern what. Every alarm he possessed, every gift the Valar had graced him with, was on full alert. He continued to peer into the distance, stepping lightly from one stone to the next.

Sam set up a small fire and began cooking. The elf overheard Boromir suggesting he and Merry and Pippin continue their sparing lesson from the day before. The Gondorian believed the hobbits needed to learn how to defend themselves. Legolas had noticed an interesting friendship developing between the two hobbits and the human. There was a bond forming - one that somehow he knew would be important, even if he didn't completely trust Boromir.

He heard Estel stepping over the bolders behind him, the pungent odor of pipe-weed accompanying him. "Legolas?"

The elf glanced back at his friend. "I'm not sure. The sky is watching..."

Estel's expression darkened. "Just signal if you see or hear anything. You are our eyes and ears, mellon-nin."

Legolas turned and gave his old friend a sly smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Go - relax and enjoy yourself."

With a smile, the human moved away and found a flat rock near where Boromir spared with the hobbits.

Gandalf sat up and to the right of Legolas as he looked into the north from where they traveled. Something called in his mind - a voice very far away. It spoke to the wind...

The elf turned slowly, his gaze sweeping the horizon.

He heard Gimli once again bring up the subject of Moria and his cousin, only this time it was to Gandalf. But Gandalf refused the dwarf's consideration just as Legolas had. The wizard's voice was low and the elf detected a bit of fear.

Again the scream in his mind.

Legolas turned to the east and nimbly ran along the stones to the edge of the out-cropping. He was vaguely aware of the scuffle of the hobbits and Boromir. All his senses were alive - and finally - there in the distance, he saw a disturbance in the air. He heard the screams this time, not in his mind, but with his ears. He felt the air move. He smelled the foul breath of Mordor - of brimstone and death.

The sky was watching them.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing. Just a whif of clouds," Gimli insisted.

"It's moving fast...against the wind," Boromir commented.

Legolas' eyes widened as the cloud came into sharp focus. This was no cloud, but the movements of hundreds of black wings and ebony feathers, harsh, sharp beaks and a group mind that listened to only one master. He had seen this enemy before during his travels with Aragorn. He knew what their presence meant - as would Gandalf.

The sky was watching. Sauron was watching them.

He sounded the alarm. "Crebain from Dunland!"