“Sit and tell me about your family, Legolas. Though we have spent much time together, I hardly feel I know you.”

Legolas sat, pushing at the burning logs with his stick. He looked up at the sky for a moment, then turned towards Aragorn. “Look! There!” He pointed his stick. “There is Eärendil.” Aragorn could see a shiver pass through the Elf’s body.

“And what is Eärendil to you, my friend?”

“A sign.” Legolas’ face fell. “He was the father of Elrond.” He blushed furiously. “Of course you know that.”

Aragorn smiled. “I do.”

“According to Denethor’s books, his people threw us out of our land. The land Amdir had settled them in after the fall of Doriath.”

“Hollin?”

“Aye. Or Eregion as some call it.”

“I did not know your people inhabited that land.”

“We did not spring from the waters of Cuiviénen. Our ancestors did, but my people moved west and dwelt in Doriath. When it fell, Amdir led our people, my grandfather, Oropher included, to Eriador. Eventually, they settled in Eregion.” He stood and strode from the fire, looking towards the sky, his hands clenched. “They forced us from that fair land. After passing over the Hithaeglir, Amdir took us to Laurelindórenan.”

“I had not heard that anyone was forced,” Aragorn said gently. “The land, according to Elrond, was deserted when they arrived.”

Legolas scoffed. “Deserted! Did you not feel my people’s fëa when we were there?” He calmed himself. “Denethor’s books speak of a different side of my history, different than what I was told.” He walked back to the fire and threw the stick into it, sparks flying everywhere.

Aragorn leaned back to avoid being set on fire. He drew in a quick breath as the thought of Denethor flitted across his brain. ‘How hideous to die in flames and despair,’ he thought.

Legolas sat. “It is not the telling that riles my blood, but the deceit of my father. He hated Elrond, but I thought it was… I am young and naïve, Aragorn. I thought it had to do with power or some such. Now, I find it was true hate, born out of numerous kinslayings. Do not think me foolish, but I had only known of the first – when the Noldor left Valinor and crossed the sea.” He bowed his head. “Gimli’s Lady was part of that. I wonder if he knows?” A shiver passed over him. “I will not be the one to tell him of her role. He is smitten beyond words and I would do nothing to hurt him.”

"Elrond's people fell under the kinslaying also, Legolas. At the mouth of the Sirion. Do you not think he knows what your people suffered in Doriath?"

Legolas remained sullen.

“Faramir is still grieving, Legolas.”

The Elf looked up in surprise. “Faramir?”

“Aye. I brought you here to discuss his well being. He is my steward, Legolas, and I need him whole. As your people need you whole. Would you take him with you?”

“And where am I to go?”

It was Aragorn’s turn to stand. This is not what he had planned when they crossed the Anduin today. In fact, he had not thought of sending Faramir off. The man was needed in Minas Tirith. Aragorn did not have the people’s wholehearted support; that he received because Faramir honoured him. Of course, Imrahil was still in the city. His presence would have to do until Faramir returned. He laughed out loud. Mithrandir always said things happened for a purpose. Aragorn had come to Ithilien to help heal his friend; now he would be sending him away. Something had to be done, for both men.

“Would you take Faramir to Amon Hen? Would you show him the place his brother died? Would you tell him the story of the Fellowship and the place Boromir had in it, the place he had in our hearts?”

Legolas shivered. “It is too terrible a thing to think upon.”

“He must know that Boromir died a warrior. When he sees the carnage of the battlefield, he will know. His heart dwells on the treachery. He must see the courage and selflessness. He will be away from Minas Tirith and his duties. They pull at him and he has no time for healing. I need him whole, Legolas!” Aragorn took Legolas’ shoulders in his hands. “Will you do that for me?”

“Of course. When do we leave?”

“Would the first of the week be agreeable?”

“We will leave at first light of the first day of the week.”

“Thank you.” Aragorn disturbed the fire, pushing the logs apart so that it would quickly die. He turned towards his bedroll and laid down.

Legolas stood, surprised at the turn of events, shrugged, and laid himself down.