"The elves were the first to charge. Their hatred for the goblins is cold and bitter. Their spears and swords shone in the gloom with a gleam of chill flame, so deadly was the wrath of the hands that held them." ~ The Hobbit.

Legolas sat in stunned silence. All he had said was that perhaps if Dwarves and Hobbits had joined in the Last Battle that the outcome would have been different. The hall had grown deathly quiet. Elrond's face had turned a sickly ashen colour. Haldir was being held back by Glorfindel.

Legolas swallowed and continued. "Though Isildur did not throw the… thing into Mt. Doom, still, the losses were so heavy. How did Elves and Men think they were capable of winning such a battle?"

He took another breath. "And for that matter, why were not allegiances strengthened before battle commenced. Mayhap my grandfather would be alive today if he had known the forces of Imladris and Lorien were behind him."

He shook in anger and frustration. Elrond knew the strength of Mordor. So many of Mirkwood's Elves had been slaughtered during the battle. Running towards the foe with none to guard their back. He almost lost everyone he loved and all because Elrond and Celeborn were too stubborn to make peace with the 'lesser' Wood-Elves.

Elrond stood. His face shone from the attempt to keep his emotions in check. Estel stood and walked to his father. Putting an arm on his shoulder, he whispered something in the Elf Lord's ear. Elrond's face fell. Estel guided him out of Merethrond. Others rose and left also. Gimli stood next to his friend. "A fine attempt to exonerate Dwarves, lad, but foolish." He grabbed his flagon of ale and walked out the door. Legolas turned around – the hall was empty, except for Pippin and Merry.

"If we had known of the Battle, Legolas," Merry said quietly, "we would have been there. My grandfather said we had battled Morgoth even and his dragons in the North a long time ago. Thank you for trying to defend us."

"I don't see why he was so upset, though," Pippin frowned. "Nobody asked us – as far as I know. Come and sit. It doesn't matter anyhow. Things are well now. And we are all friends."

"No we're not, Pip. Can't you see that Lord Elrond was quite upset by it all?

"Legolas. What did Lord Elrond do that made you so angry?"

Sitting down, Legolas grabbed the nearest flagon and quaffed its contents in one gulp. "I… Ever since I was a young one, my father has told me that the Elves of Mirkwood have been scorned by those of 'higher' blood. Noldor and Sindar. I thought my grandfather died because he hated Yrch. I found out, just recently reading through Denethor's library, that he died in a suicide ride against Mordor. And all his men. Where was the… This is nothing that concerns Hobbits, my friends. Forgive me. I am going to ride to Ithilien. Mayhap my mind will settle once I am near trees."

He walked out the door, but Merry and Pippin followed. "We'd love to come with you?" Merry asked hesitantly.

"I do not think it wise. My bow arm is weakened after these past weeks with nothing to do. I will spend time practicing. I might miss and hit a wayward Hobbit."

Pippin's face fell. "You wouldn't… "

Legolas relented. "I would never… I must be away, by myself. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course!" Merry said. "We will walk you to your mount?"

"Please, no."

"Farewell then, Legolas Greenleaf," Merry said formally bowing to his friend. "We will wait upon your return."

Estel stood by the Great Gate and waited. He knew Legolas' mind, knew the Elf would leave the city after the confrontation. The grooms were preparing both their horses. A commotion brought his eyes towards where the street met the Courtyard of Isildur. The people of Gondor were still not accustomed to Elves walking about. Their presence always created a stir. He was correct. Legolas walked into view – then stopped when he saw Estel. His lips tightened and his hands clenched. Estel stepped forward.

"I need a breath of fresh air, my friend. Would you join me in a ride to Ithilien? I plan to spend the night."