Last chapter: So many thanks to everyone who reviewed and encouraged. There is a sequel possible to Sons of Thunder but I'm not sure when I will write it, and of course I have yet to tell you what happened at Phellanthir with Elladan. So Narmofinion coming soon!

Especial thanks to my wonderful beta, Anarithilien who is so generous, and such an inspiration. Thank you.

Chapter 31: Many Partings

Tindómion's news that the Fellowship was to leave this very day made Legolas nervous and excited at the same time and he knew that he would not sleep again once Tindómion had left. Thin winter daylight came through the open window and a cold wind swept down from the Hithaeglir, laden with snow and cold rain. He went to the latrine that was in a small room off his chamber, wondering anew at where all the waste went. Then he went to the basin, pulled the levers that still astonished him and let cold water pour into the porcelain basin and splashed cold water on his face. He stood, leaning on the basin, watching the water swirl into the hole in the basin and disappear.

He thought upon what Tindómion had said about his leaving to distract the spies of Sauron. However valiant, however glorious those warriors might be, if there were a large enough force sent against them, surely they could not prevail? A heaviness settled in his heart and he imagined Tindómion's muscular, sleek body that he had just enjoyed so thoroughly, ripped apart in the frenzies of Orcs and wargs … Glorfindel…and Elrohir. His heart wrenched in his chest at the thought… but it was Elrohir's possible death that broke him…Unexpectedly, he found a cry tearing itself from his chest and his hands clenched, fingers digging into his palms.

'What is happening to me?' he asked himself remembering his dream and the vision that Lathron had shown him all those years ago. 'I sleep with Tindómion yet I dream of Elrohir, and now the thought of his death fills me with despair?'

He bent his head and pressed his hands down over the edge of the cold porcelain basin. Then he turned the levers again so that cold water gushed from the taps and doused his head and body thoroughly until his head cleared and he stayed leaning over the basin, blinking as droplets of water dripped from his eyelashes.

It is my debt to him, he told himself at last. And we parted badly.

He padded back into the bed chamber, still naked and gleaming wet. He hauled his shirt and breeches from where they had been shoved and got stuck beneath the cushion of the chair, shook them out with a sigh for it was too late now to clean them, and threw them on the bed. He leaned down and searched for his boots under the bed.…Tindómion had thought the torment Elrohir inflicted upon the Orc was righteous…Legolas paused.

Thoughtfully, he propped his boots up against a chair leg.

Perhaps he had not behaved as well as he thought he had? Perhaps in releasing the Orc, he had indeed surpassed the boundary for Imladris? Their lady, Elrohir's mother, had been tortured by Orcs. Raped. It was not said but everything pointed to that. And Elrohir, it was said, had been the one to find her, to bring her out still living.

He knew that Elrohir would have poured himself into healing her, as he had Legolas. He would never have left her. And Legolas wondered why it was not Elrond himself who had found his wife. He could not imagine Thranduil not riding out to rescue even the least of his folk, even Nauriel in spite of her dreadful curse that she wished that Thranduil would know what it was to lose a son…He felt goosebumps on his neck and a chill crawled down his back then. What if there was Power in her words? What if he were taken to Barad-dûr?

He padded barefoot and naked to the window and stood for a moment. Snow had fallen on the peaks of the Hithaeglir and high up an eagle spiralled upwards climbing beyond sight.

He heard a shout of laughter somewhere in the gardens below and saw Pippin ad Merry bundled up against the cold and laughing, flapping their hands to keep warm. They were on their way to the dining hall, he thought, for they were always the first to arrive. Suddenly Pippin looked up and caught sight of Legolas and waved wildly. Merry followed his gaze and stared for a moment, then he grinned and waved too. Slowly Legolas raised his hand; Merry and Pippin were going to Mordor too, with no idea what they truly faced…No, he thought. That is not true. They had faced the Nazgûl on Weathertop, and the Barrow-Wights. Yet they were undaunted. And here was he thinking such gloomy thoughts, an archer of the Wood who had braved Dol Guldur more times than he could remember and not once had he baulked.

He waved back more cheerfully, deciding that if he were taken, he would slay a hundred Orcs in the attempt and he would at least thin out Sauron's army a little first. And he would make sure he killed more Orcs than the Dwarf could dream of. That cheered him up no end and he decided in the same breath that he owed Elrohir his thanks at least for saving his life. Not an apology though. He was unrepentant about the Orc whatever Tindómion thought.

Now that he had settled on his action, he began purposefully to pull together his meagre possessions, pulling out drawers to check he had left nothing there, although there was little enough to meet such care; his possessions were few, mainly weapons and those were all were honed constantly to a hair's breadth. He had carefully stocked his quiver and restrung his bow as soon as he was well enough, out of habit. Even so, he thought, it would be worth visiting the armoury just to check his knives once again, and Gimli would be there somewhere, near the forges.

He knew too that he should write the letters he had been putting off; he could entrust them to Erestor in case of any travellers crossing the Hithaeglir in the next few months. At least his father would have the comfort of knowing he was safe, he thought…Well, not exactly safe but that everything was of his own accord.

He pulled on his breeches for it felt odd to be writing to his father stark naked. Then he dragged a chair over to the small writing desk in the corner of the room. It seemed that Elrond, or someone, had thought that he would need a lot of paper for there was a plentiful supply in one of the thin drawers of the desk and quills and pens and sealing wax in another. Concealed artfully beneath the lid to the desk was a delicate and beautifully carved rack containing small pots of different coloured inks, green and gold and blue and red. After trying different pens and quills and scribbling with blue then green, then gold ink, he sighed and dipped the thickest pen in plain black ink and began to write in his rather untidy hand.

It was as difficult as he thought it would be. He crossed out many many times and wasted a sinful amount of paper and parchment. After half an hour, he was no closer to writing what he really wanted.

He remembered his father's study when Thranduil had bid him farewell:

He lifted his gaze to meet his father's bright fire and felt a sudden lance of the Elvenking's own determined hope that kept him standing strong and resolute against the Shadow whatever may come, and excited pride surged through him for Thranduil smiled gently then and Legolas knew he would be going after all.

Smoke spiralled thinly from the candles and Thranduil lifted his hands to his own neck and took something from it. He approached Legolas now and lifted his chin like he was still a child.

'I want you to wear this, Legolas.' He pressed something small and hard into his palm and Legolas looked down.

A thin mithril chain looped over his fingers and a tiny oak leaf pendant, beautifully wrought in gold was strung upon it. Legolas' lips parted as he looked down. It was always worn around Thranduil's neck, closest to his skin, closest to his heart.

'You know then that I am always with you. And I am always proud of you...' He swallowed as if he could not speak the next words easily. 'Your mother would be as well. She is always with you too.'

'Come back to me, Legolas. Swiftly and safe.'

His hand closed over the same mithril pendant now and tears stung his eyes. It had been such a long, long time since he had last seen his mother.

But it was his father who was suffering now and would be anxious; indeed Legolas half expected to see his father careering into Imladris at any moment, Galion swearing and cursing at his heels

In then end, he wrote simply:

Dearest Ada,

I love you. I am crossing the Hithaeglir with Mithrandir and then will choose my path. You know I will listen to my heart and do what is right for the Wood. I will be careful, I promise.

Please take care of Gwilileth as I think she will have gone home by now.

Love

Legolas.

PS: Bilbo Baggins sends his best regards and hopes very much you and he will meet again someday.

PPS: I hope you haven't killed Galadhon and Alagos. It was not their fault.

And to Thalos and Laersul he wrote:

Dear Laersul and Lackwit,

I wish you were here. I keep thinking that. I have met Glorfindel and he says that I am one of the best archers he has ever seen. I fought with him and we killed so many Orcs. I have also ridden with the Sons of Thunder and the Heir of Isildur who healed me from a nasty poisonous wound- don't tell Ada. The poison is called Lhach-Rhaw and I do not think we have anything like it at home but there is a drug called Crystôl that fights it. Ask Ilarion if he has heard of it but do not say why and don't tell Ada I have heard of it. There are Hobbits here too- five including Bilbo Baggins. You remember him- he brought Ada the Arkenstone. Do you remember? I have tea with them in the afternoon. I have never seen anyone eat as much as a Hobbit but the food here is very very good and I have had to put an extra hole in my belt. I have met Tindómion too who is the son of Maglor! He is a very great warrior and was a friend of Gil-Galad so I have not sung THAT song here. Arwen Undomiel is very lovely but I have not spoken much to her. I think you would like her more than I, Thalos- she is your type in that she breathes. Fortunately for her she is unlikely to ever meet you so her life is not entirely wasted. Anyway she is already madly in love with Aragorn. I can call him friend now as we saved each other's lives once or twice although I think he saved mine more fully than I saved his. I have made friends with a Dwarf too - Gimli Gloinsson who was also at Dagor Erebor. Do not tell Ada that either. And there are also four Hobbits as well as Bilbo Baggins. There is a Man too, Boromir who is from Minas Tirith which is beset.

Thalos you would love it here. I am told the libraries are enormous.

Laersul, I hope you have told Theliel what you told me. But don't tell Thalos- you know how indiscrete he is. (He smiled, imagining how Thalos would be outraged and badger Laersul until he confessed. Suddenly it hurt not to be with them.)

Look after father and remember that I love you all and am thinking of you. As I often do. I have run out of time if I want to go and eat in the Hall before I leave. The food here is really good. I am meeting the Hobbits, Gimli and Boromir there.

Love,

Legolas.

PS: Please tell father to let Galadhon and Alagos out of the dungeons.

PPS: Laersul- be extra careful in the South. Mithrandir told me to say that to you. The Nazgûl are abroad, all Nine, but I do not know if that is what he meant. Thalos- take care of everyone for me.

And finally he wrote to Galion.

Dear Galion

I miss your lembas oddly enough. And you. I don't know what to say to Ada so please say it for me and tell him I will be careful and that I have been in the South, I am not a child and he must have faith in me. As I do in him, and in you to take care of all of them for me.

Love

Legolas.

PS: Your book is wrong about Imladris and its Laws. Some of them here do not keep to those customs at all. It has been highly educational in many respects.

He blew on the ink to dry it and then brushed sand over each letter and dripped sealing wax on the edge of each one and sealed it closed. Then he carefully wrote the names on the outside of each sealed letter. He almost did not bother for Galion would read all of them first. He pressed his mithril pendant onto the wax before it hardened and leant back in his chair looking out over the lovely gardens of Imladris.

He had nothing left to pack and no one to bid farewell.

He folded his letters carefully and bound them together with thin green ribbon that he found wrapped around a wooden bobbin in the desk and stood looking at them for a moment wondering if his family would ever receive them when there was a light knock on the door.

'Legolas? It is Aragorn.'

He looked up surprised and then padded over, still shirtless and barefoot, to the door. Aragorn was leaning against the door jamb, arms folded and when Legolas threw open the door, he glanced down at Legolas. 'Forgive me for intruding, Legolas, shall I come back later?' Aragorn asked, and Legolas thought with an almost exaggerated politeness. Aragorn glanced past Legolas to within.

'But you are here. Why would you go and come back?' Legolas asked bemused. There were some very odd ideas in Imladris and he thought to himself that even now he did not understand completely the customs of Imladris. 'Come,' he said, stepping back and inviting the Man to enter.

Aragorn shuffled his feet slightly and then almost resigned, followed him in.

'Are you not cold?' Aragorn asked looking round and noticing the wide open windows

The air had a light, brittle chill but Legolas actually found it bracing. He shook his head slightly. Perhaps Aragorn was cold so he snagged a warm robe that had been left for him, carefully folded on a chair. He shook it out and held it out to Aragorn. 'Perhaps it is you who are cold, my friend? I am not and can easily tolerate the slight chill whereas you seem very uncomfortable.' He looked at Aragorn's heavy cloak that was swathed around him like a blanket and Aragorn laughed.

'I am not cold, Legolas. But it makes me feel cold looking at you'

'I have my breeches on,' he said in surprise.

'You do, but you look like you have thrown them on in haste and that only moments ago you were wearing nothing but what you were born with.' Aragorn was smiling as he said it. 'I will feel better if you have something on too.'

Legolas did not quite understand but he wished to put Aragorn at ease for he liked him so he shrugged and pulled his thin shirt over his head and gestured to one of the chairs that had been put near the empty hearth. Aragorn was still smiling but he said nothing more and sank into the comfortable chair.

'Forgive me for such an early call, my friend,' Aragorn began. 'I thought you would be up at the crack of dawn as is your habit. You must have been carousing until late last night.' He grinned. 'I heard that you wiped out young Arelas.' Aragorn continued. 'It will have done him good. He is arrogant and foolish and you have saved him from a beating from his mother.'

'Ah, that news was early abroad,' Legolas said with a trace of irony for he was still secretly shocked at how late Imladris rose. Even now Aragorn thought it was early and the grey dawn was long past. The sun had struggled weakly above the mountains and thin winter daylight made the lamps unnecessary now. Legolas supposed Imladris thought this was early.

'Tindómion said he would give you a message from Elrond that we are to leave today.' His voice held a question. Legolas gave a quick look but there was no guile in Aragorn's open face and he clearly did not know that Legolas had spent a pleasurable night in Tindómion's company. 'He and Glorfindel will ride out today. They go to Mithlond to take messages from Elrond. Galdor, Elrohir and Saeldir will go with them and a few others.'

Legolas leaned forwards, elbows on his knees and said, 'There is more purpose in your being here than just to tell me this.'

Aragorn pushed himself to his feet and paced restlessly, paused by the open window and looked out towards the Mountains which stretched away southwards. 'Last night, Elrond was assailed. '

Legolas gasped. 'What? He was attacked here in Imladris? How did they get in?'

Aragorn shook his head. 'It was not Nazgûl or Orcs. It was the Ring. It tried to …seduce him to evil.' He stood by the wide open window. 'Have you not felt it at all. Legolas? Have you not heard it whispering into your mind, offering you what you cannot have, what you did not even know you wanted?'

Legolas leaned back in the chair and considered the Man. If Legolas himself had been a target for the insidious whisper of the Ring as Tindómion suggested last night, how much more it would want Aragorn, he thought. He paused and then said, 'No. I have wanted what I could have.' He did not say that he had had it as well, his limbs still soft and his body sated, for the moment at least. 'But I am only an archer in the Wood and do not wish for Power or glory. I only serve my King and People as best I can. The rest of my needs and desires are very simple,' he said sincerely and he did not see the Man's mouth curl at the corners in amusement for his needs and desires were known to Aragorn from their time in the Wild.

'What it may have done though, is to sow doubt in my mind and that is as destructive as anything else it might do.' Legolas paused and met the Man's gaze, an honesty and trust passed between them. 'This is the worst sort of enemy,' Legolas continued. 'If you need some thing shot or killed, I can do that. But this unseen enemy is not so easily defeated.'

'It is not the only enemy,' Aragorn said, turning back to the Elf. 'We will certainly need your bow and you knives before we are done,' he said. He sat in on of the chairs near the fire although only the embers glowed faintly and gave off no heat.

Legolas nodded seriously and sat in the opposite chair. 'Do the Hobbits know that we leave at dusk?'

Aragorn drew a breath. 'Not yet. Of the company, only Gandalf knows of course and now you. I thought to give time to eat one their breakfasts at least, and then I will tell them. I want them to have time then to say their farewells but little else or someone will say more than he should.' He meant Pippin of course, Legolas realised for Pippin would be unable to help himself. 'I wanted your help to ready everything else. Will you prepare Bill and the packs?'

Legolas nodded again. 'I will be ready. Do you wish me to come with you now? I can tell Boromir and Gimli,' he offered, and leaned over and patted Aragorn on the arm reassuringly in the way that Gimli had begun doing to him; he realised this suddenly and his smile widened. 'I have an inventive way to wake the Dwarf and I want to try it out when he has the means of drying himself off.'

Aragorn looked alarmed and Legolas' smile positively dazzled. 'I jest, Aragorn. Trust me. I will wake him as gently as a spider wakes an orcling.'

Aragorn laughed softly. 'In spite of your threat, I do trust you, Legolas. I know you would not wish to start this quest with a grumpy Dwarf and an angry Wizard, for Gandalf will be angry, you know.'

'Ah. He will turn me into a frog. He has threatened that once before but I cannot remember why…' He pondered a little and then remembered Anglach's face when they had been so fascinated by Gandalf's beard that they had provoked the Wizard into that particular threat, and did not see the bemused expression on the Man's face. Ah, the pain struck him anew, every time he thought of his childhood, Anglach would be there, he thought.

Aragorn leaned forwards to stir the embers of the fire. It was almost useless but it gave him something to do. Legolas could see that the Man was anxious, nervous as he had not seen him before. But the momentousness of the occasion struck him; for Aragorn all would be resolved one way or the other with this quest.

'Will you go to Mordor with Frodo or to Minas Tirith with Boromir?' he asked suddenly and Aragorn looked away.

'I do not know,' he said quietly. 'I would do what I can to help Frodo but Gandalf believes that secrecy is the key and that not all of us will go into Mordor. He believes that my path is to Minas Tirith and that too will divert Sauron from Frodo and may help him to creep into Mordor undetected…' The embers glowed a little and for a moment, looked as if they might catch. Aragorn watched them and then straightened, leaned back in his chair.

'I will go where you go,' Legolas said loyally. 'I will not abandon you. My path lies with you wherever that may be.'

Aragorn smiled as if he had been anxious and that tension had gone. 'I will be glad of your bow and your knives, my friend. If you are at my back, I will feel greatly relieved.'

'I could not let a Dwarf of Erebor have the glory alone,' Legolas said. 'Has he finished whatever it is that he has been doing, closeted away in that forge?'

Aragorn shrugged. 'I have assumed that he has been sharpening his axe and making good the weapons he has. There are rituals too that the Dwarves have in the forges of Erebor although none has seen them.'

'Strange are the children of Aulë,' Legolas said amused. 'But I am glad that we have Gimli's axe as well as my bow. He cared for me you know, on the return from Phellanthir.'

The fire struggled and died. Legolas and Aragorn stared at the cooling embers and this time, neither moved to stir the fire to life.

'I see you have letters for your family,' Aragorn noted, glancing at the writing desk in the corner and the flat packet of letters that lay upon it. He stood up and was still for a moment. Then he clasped Legolas' shoulder and said, 'There will still be parties of travellers and messengers going over the Mountains. They will take them for you. Join me when you are done .For now I too have farewells to make.'

The importance of the hour for Aragorn fell upon Legolas then. He suspected it was Arwen he was going to see and his heart reached out to the Man who looked far more anxious than Legolas felt.

'Glorfindel leaves very soon' Aragorn said, turning towards the door. 'It is intended to be noisy and attract attention. That is where I am going now'

Legolas frowned and said, 'But Tindómion told me they leave at midday. Surely it is not yet that time?'

Aragorn shook his head and said, 'Glorfindel wanted to bring it forwards. He wishes to draw any spies and enemies a long way from here so that we can leave in secret.' He put his hand on the door handle.

'I did not realise it was so soon!' Legolas said, leaping to his feet and grabbing his tunic. He cast about for his belt and boots in some distress for the idea of parting from Tindómion without bidding farewell bothered him. But more, he needed to make his peace with Elrohir for he owed the Elf his life and he had said nothing even though he had had chances. Berating himself mentally, Legolas grabbed one boot and shoved it on over his foot, and then snagged his belt and buckled it with one hand. 'Go on,' he said to Aragorn. 'I will be there as soon as I can.'

'They are not yet mounted,' Aragorn smiled and said knowingly, 'Do not worry, Glorfindel will understand if you have not bid him farewell.'

'Maybe, but I will not forgive myself!' He nodded Aragorn to leave as he pulled his other boot on and dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling it back over his shoulder and thinking he did not have time to braid it but surely it would be disrespectful to leave it unbraided?

He ran after Aragorn and caught up with him as he strode along the wide, paved path that Tindómion had led Legolas the night before. Legolas glanced up at the terrace and the light and airy rooms which were inhabited by Elrond's captains and his sons. It was quiet along the balconies and terrace and the windows were all closed. It looked empty and he saw a maid coming out of one with a pile of laundry.

In the near distance there was the sound of a horn and horses' hooves clattering, voices shouting at each other in high good humour as if a hunt were about to begin. They rounded a corner that was screened by shrubs and trees and found themselves in the square before the main doors of the House. There were many people there.

The doors stood open and on the steps were Elrond and Arwen, and some of their household. Legolas recognised many of the Elves though he did not know all their names. He saw that Berensul stood amongst them, and Amron and his wife were there. The young warrior, Arelas was talking to a woman and scowling. She was clearly telling him off so she must be his doughty mother, thought Legolas. Arwen caught sight of Aragorn and quickly made her way through the crowd and smiled up at the Man as if he were the only person in the whole world and Legolas felt a small pang for the hardship they were both to endure for the the sake of their love.

Behind Elrond was Erestor. Erestor did not look like himself. His eyes were heavy for lack of sleep and there were dark circles beneath them like bruises. With a start, Legolas thought he looked like he had been beaten. His mouth was a thin line pressed by impatience and his cheeks were drawn. Legolas could hardly recognise him; he looked ill, sunken, drawn as Men who have aged and whose hair had gone to silver or even white. Legolas stared and could not look away until the counsellor's amber eyes cracked across him and Legolas flinched and looked away, for there was pain and hunger and shame in them.

He did not have time to wonder at that for there was a clattering of hooves that came from the stable yard and through the stone arch that led to the stables came Glorfindel, leading his white horse. It seemed that the sun shone on him and his face fearless, and full of a joy that came from within, intrinsic to his very existence. Legolas sighed. Glorfindel's white horse, Asfaloth, had those bells tied into his mane that Legolas privately thought ridiculous. But now, seeing Glorfindel lead him out like this, he decided they were absolutely right.

Behind him were two more horses, one chestnut and one bay. Tindómion led the chestnut horse, his head bent slightly towards the other rider, who was Elrohir who walked beside the bay and leaned his head slightly towards it as if listening to a conversation with the horse.

0o0o0

Elrohir followed Glorfindel as they emerged from the stone arch into this crowd of people. But whereas Glorfindel was at ease amongst this crowd, Elrohir felt an immediate tensing of his muscles and jaw. He disliked the clamour of many people, and their adulation and gratitude weighed upon him. It was not for them he did this, he told himself, it was his hatred of the Enemy, for the torment of his mother in the dens of the Orcs of the Mountains. He hoped they would meet Orcs, the Nazgûl, all of them. He wanted to kill, to bathe in Power and slake himself with blood. And he cared little if he died in the battle. Aícanaro pulsed and he felt it coil pleasurably within its scabbard. He stroked his hand along his sword like he would a restive horse.

Beside him was Tindómion who was unconcerned with the excitement and anticipation of the crowds. It was one of the things Elrohir liked about his friend, his complete unconcern at what anyone else thought or did; he was entirely himself in the way that Erestor was, and perhaps that was a Fëanorian trait. It extended beyond what many considered the 'normal' bounds of decency but none dared voice their disapproval; Tindómion was discrete enough but even he could not completely disguise the fierce marks of passion on his body that were clearly of a night very well spent. Elrohir did not ask for a name and even if he had, he knew Tindómion would not give it. Earlier in the barracks, whenTindómion dressed himself in the light leather undershirt before he slid the mail shirt over his head, there had been a few surreptitious glances but only Glorfindel himself raised an eyebrow, and no one else mentioned it for the respect they held for Tindómion was equal to that of Glorfindel.

Elrohir glanced behind to where Tindómion led his chestnut horse to see that Tindómion was smiling at someone in the crowd but Elrohir could not see who it was. Presumably it was whoever he had spent the night with. Elrohir did not try hard to see; it was likely one of the warriors who had come from Mithlond with Gildor where the Laws now were easier. He looked away again towards his father who stood on the steps of the House surrounded by his advisors and learned counsellors.

Erestor was there, standing in the background as if he wanted to melt away, but he was too imposing a presence to ever do that. Elrohir deliberately caught his amber gaze, holding it, daring him. But for once, Erestor dropped his gaze and looked away as if ashamed.

At that moment, someone clasped Elrohir's arm and as he was about to turn to glare at the presumption, Arwen, for it was she, reached up on tiptoe to kiss him.

'Elbereth go with you, Elrohir,' she said and a memory struck him with absolute clarity; A very little Arwen stepping gingerly into the stream, Elrohir holding her hand and Arwen looking up at her big brother with absolute trust. He blinked and looked down at her. 'Keep safe,' she said earnestly.

He stroked her cheek with the unaccustomed tenderness that he had always reserved for her. 'And you, little sister,' he said gently. 'Look after Elladan for me.' Her smile was a full of sadness and he suddenly thought how he would lose her forever for she had chosen mortality. He embraced her fiercely as if he could hold off death from all of them and she buried her face in his shoulder as she had always done, as she had done when first she told him of her love for Aragorn. Elrohir had always been their defender.

When he raised his head and Arwen stepped away, looking up and smiling at him through tears, he saw that Elrond was looking at them both. The devastation in his eyes suddenly moved Elrohir and he thought how much his father had lost over his long life. Compassion struck him suddenly and he lifted his hand to reach towards his father but at that moment someone came between them. A glint of pale gold hair. Legolas Thranduillion.

He had a smile on his lips and was walking towards Tindómion. Instantly Elrohir knew; it was Legolas who had burned those kisses and marked him in lust and desire. Tindómion leaned towards Legolas and his smile was knowing, possessive. An answering smile just touched Legolas' mouth, his hot, full mouth; his leaf-green eyes lingered on Tindómion, slowly looked him up an down as if imagining the strong body beneath the armour and mail.

'…please. Say farewell to father, Elrohir.' Arwen's voice pleaded and her hand was on his arm, but he was only half aware for at that moment Legolas' eyes flicked up as if he felt Elrohir watching. The green eyes widened and his lips parted. Elrohir felt a surge of …of something. Felt himself stiffen. Unaccountably.

It is anger, he told himself. I have not forgotten that he deprived me of my revenge. And it belittles me, diminishes my mother's torment.

He saw that Legolas' fingers tugged a thread loose from his sleeve and realised the Woodelf was nervous and he wondered why but briefly, for there was a stirring in his belly and a thrill in his blood that was like war, like sex. He felt power surge through him that he recognised; the desire to dominate and subdue. He felt himself fill and stiffen and his balls tightened.

Ruthlessly he suppressed it. Clenching his teeth he breathed hard and turned away, but Arwen stepped around, insistent and saying, 'Please Elrohir! Do not turn away from him now.'

She meant their father of course but Elrohir wanted to shake her off, to stride over to Legolas and strike him, hard so his head snapped to the side and then crush his mouth beneath Elrohir's, to shove him hard to the ground…He squeezed his eyes closed. No. I am not like that! I will not be. And he is with Tindómion.

Arwen's hand was still on his arm and when he opened his eyes he saw her lovely face looking up at him with concern and pleading. 'Elrohir, I beg you. Please bid him farewell.'

He breathed deeply, struggled with his own control like he would a bolting horse and wrenched himself from his anger and desire that disgusted him, that he had ruthlessly suppressed, that he did not acknowledge… He clamped down on the torrent of memories that unlocked now before him; the dark suffocating tunnels, a cry from ahead, panting, groans of lust, of rutting. No. Not that. Not that. Why do I think that now? It was perhaps the colour of his hair, he thought desperately. It was the same pale gold, like cornsilk, as his mother's. Would it be as soft, as silken in his hand? he wondered and hated himself for such a thought…blood on her hair, tangled and clotted with blood

'Not now,' he said trying hard to not shove Arwen away in reaction to his disgust at himself, his disgraceful thoughts, his unholy lust. 'Give me a moment and I will go.' He turned to his horse and fiddled with the buckle and the stirrups. He needed that time to control himself and let the practice of centuries bring such desires to heel. Oh Eru, he prayed, let me not think on this again. Let me be pure of heart and thought and deed. If only he could avoid Legolas Thranduillion who seemed to resurrect the memories, the dreadful lust and weakness.

He fiddled with the buckles of the the girth, checked the bridle and was grateful that the horse eyed him balefully and its nostrils flared and then wrinkled, for it gave him a reason to delay longer. This was not his own patient Barakhir, but instead Anguirel, named for the famous sword of legend and as mercurial. Anguirel shook his head and stamped his hoof impatiently and Elrohir was aware of other riders moving out his way for the horse was as uncertain of temper as he.

But it was a distraction, it gave him something else immediate and urgent so he could wrestle with the lust and bind it, crush it down into the dark. He breathed deeply, leashed himself tightly so he could be hard and strong and no one else would know.

Anguriel snapped at Asfaloth who put his ears back and he heard Glorfindel laugh so fearlessly that he wondered if he should not tell his mentor and friend. Perhaps it would chase away the darkness in him? But he thought it would not. Instead it would disgust his friend as much as he disgusted himself. He rubbed one hand over his face and with the other, leaned against the horse's rump for a moment.

A hand rested lightly on his shoulder and he steeled himself. It was Aragorn, his face was serious. 'Stay safe, Elrohir,' he said quietly. 'I do not think I could bear to lose you when we have come so close with Elladan.'

He pulled Elrohir into an embrace then and Elrohir's heart was wrenched. This might be the last time, he told himself, and remembered Arathorn, and all his foster brothers over the years, whom he and Elladan had trained and helped raise and loved, and one by one, they had fallen or withered. He suddenly could not bear it and clasped Aragorn back tightly; Aragorn departed not only for Mordor but his destiny and either way, he would never simply be Aragorn again. And neither he nor Elladan were being allowed to accompany their little brother on this, his greatest task. It hurt suddenly that their father had not chosen him.

'And you,' he said softly, pulling back and gazing at Aragorn, to imprint the moment in his memory. He did not want to forget one feature of his dear face. 'Aragorn,' he said suddenly. 'Have a care for yourself and those others who might be lured by the Ring. It knows the heart of everyone.' He did not speak of Galadriel. He had already spoken to Gandalf and it was he that Elrohir trusted the most to guard against her ambitions.

Aragorn leaned towards Elrohir and said with a smile that showed Elrohir only that he did not yet understand, 'I think it only whispers to Merry and Pippin of cake, and to Legolas not at all. They are immune to the Ring I think. The three of them want only what they have and are content. It is Boromir I fear for. And perhaps Gimli a little..'

Legolas Thranduillion again! It lashed him, always Legolas. It seemed that everywhere he looked, there was the Mirkwood Elf! The Orc, the poison, crystôl, Tindómion. Too much in Elrohir's mind, he tried to shove aside all thoughts of Legolas. 'Do not be fooled by Legolas Thranduillion,' he murmured out of his vicious resentment. 'He has desires as does everyone. Just you do not yet know them.'

'Of course he does,' Aragorn replied, seemingly unaware of the barely controlled anger in Elrohir. 'But he can have what he desires without the Ring…It can offer him nothing really. He has braved the South near Dol Guldur many, many times. He knew when the Nazgûl had passed and that is a skill I would have with me on this quest.' Aragorn looked at Elrohir and smiled slightly. 'I would rather have you than anyone else if that is what grieves you, but Elladan needs you and I would not take you from him. Legolas is a good second best. He is a superb archer and he will not abandon us.'

Elrohir cast him a glance. That was true at least. Even Elrohir had to admit that. There was no doubt that Legolas' skill with a bow was unsurpassed by any that Elrohir had ever seen, either there or in Lorien. And he fought with a passion and grace that made Elrohir want to stop and watch for he was ferocious and devastating… He looked down at the ground. It was true also that Legolas did not seek power, or reward, or honour for its own sake. And Elrohir had always admired and liked that in others. So why did it annoy him beyond control in Legolas?

'He is a skilful archer,' he said grudgingly. He did not want to think so but he could not deny it.

'He did not abandon Rhawion, and stood against the Nazgûl.' Aragorn sighed and wound his arm around Elrohir's shoulder. 'I wish you could see what others see in him.'

Elrohir said nothing. He did not want to acknowledge it but he did admire Legolas for staying with Rhawion; there were many who would have fled. And he had faced the Nazgûl not only in Phellanthir but in Dol Guldur. He shook himself suddenly giving in. 'Very well,' he admitted at last. 'Perhaps you are right in this. I will give you that he does not seek glory or power…Perhaps he is better suited to this quest than others.'

Aragorn smiled, a small triumph and clasped Elrohir's arm. 'Will you swear to me you will have a care for yourself? Do not ride recklessly into danger, guard yourself as you guard others?'

Elrohir grimaced but he gave in, as he always did to Aragorn. He smiled slightly and clasped Aragorn's shoulder. 'For you I will. And for Elladan. For we both have sworn to Arwen that we will see you crowned, Estel, though it take you from me. I wish only for your own heart's desire.' He did not pause to see the gratitude and love in Aragorn's eyes, he had seen it before when he had championed Aragorn and Arwen's love, though it hurt Elrond.

Perhaps because it hurts Elrond?

Be silent, Ash Nazg, he commanded, and it was.

Aragorn stepped back, his eyes lingering sadly upon his tall and strong brother. Elrohir swung up into the saddle for Glorfindel had already mounted, and Tindómion, seeing that both Glorfindel and Elrohir were mounted, did likewise. Saeldir and the other warriors followed and Elrohir gathered up his reins to move off.

Glorfindel's Asfaloth shook his mane and the silver bells sounded and the joy of it lifted all their hearts. Many of those watching lifted their hands and voices in farewell but there was too a desperation from those who knew this company was intended to be attacked, to draw the Eye towards them so the Fellowship could leave undetected. He caught sight briefly of his father's face, the distraught look and hand lifted half-hoping for acknowledgement and he suddenly remembered that he had promised Arwen he would give his father some crumb of comfort. Anguirel jostled and fidgeted beneath him and he half lifted his hand in reply. He met his father's look of astonished gratitude and it hurt unexpectedly that there was such a gulf between them, and that although Elrohir had given the very least gesture he could, it meant so very much to his father that he had even given that.

Arwen watched them both and smiled at Elrohir with softness that made him smile back for he loved his little sister and would have always done much to make her smile. That was the thing he shared with Elrond and like now, many a time it had forced them to be civil, to compromise, to acknowledge a love that Elrohir struggled with.

He heard Glorfindel call to Saeldir and he looked towards the commander, expecting that Glorfindel would lead them out. But it seemed there was some delay for Glorfindel had leaned down and was speaking earnestly to Saeldir, who was nodding and pointing East. And then Elrohir felt a hand brush his thigh lightly, but that sent a jolt through him, a spike of lust and shock of desire.

'My lord, please wait. I would speak to you before you leave!'

He looked slowly down, knowing who he would see, who had the temerity to touch him so personally, so intimately; the breeze lifted pale wintergrass hair, and long, green eyes met his, clear and full of light. Legolas had his hand on Elrohir's thigh to stay him and Elrohir wished that he would not. Anguirel pranced restlessly but Legolas turned his head and merely spoke a word and the horse quietened and stood patiently. Elrohir did not know what to say. He wanted Legolas to touch him again, but not like this, not this light brush on his thigh for mere reassurance, merely to gain his attention. He wanted a hard passionate embrace, wrestling each other to the ground, tearing into each other…He looked away, driving hard down on the unspeakable lust, shoving it away. What was wrong with him! It must be Ash Nazg that was putting these thoughts in his mind.

Legolas took his hand from Elrohir's thigh and stepped back but not aside. He looked up at Elrohir, full lips parted and his long green eyes were wide open and aware, surely, of that fire that ignited between them? Elrohir looked down, unable to speak.

'My lord,' said Legolas again but hesitant and unsure. 'I wanted…I wanted to thank you. You saved my life and I did not say it…I was…not myself.' He paused uncomfortably as if he hoped Elrohir would fill the silence but Elrohir did not. He could not speak for he wanted to look at Legolas, to fill himself up with the sight of this beautiful Elf who stood so uncertain and nervous before him; he could have crushed Legolas to his chest, pressed his mouth upon the Woodelf's. Elrohir licked his dry lips, wanting to gaze and yet fearing the sight that sent a thrust of desire charging along his veins and sinews and nerves so he felt the churning in his balls and stiffening. His breath caught and he clenched his fists, dug his nails into the palms of his hands so he would not feel, would not think, would not lust….It was Ash Nazg that had him so easily moved! He made his face a mask of stone.

Almost unaware, Legolas moved closer, surely beginning to sense that others were turning to look, to wonder what it was that the Mirkwood Elf should have to say to him, he who had deprived Elrohir of his trophy. Tindómion too had glanced back and turned his horse.

'You were right about the crystô beg your forgiveness that I was neither grateful for the effort you took for me, nor gentle in my response.' Legolas looked up at the almost disappeared scar on Elrohir's cheekbone where he had lashed out in his feverish frenzy.

His eyes are like green glass, thought Elrohir, stiff and aching. He pulled his cloak around him to hide the evidence of his desire, for it was not mere lust, he knew. It was something deeper than that. He was pulled towards Legolas like a tide and he struggled against it…- for he knew he might never see him again until the Ending of the World. If Legolas should fall…

'You do not have to thank me,' he managed to say and thought how hoarse his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and said more strongly, 'You did not abandon Rhawion and I would not have abandoned anyone to the Shadow.'

Some of the company were beginning to leave through the gates of Imladris, and Elrohir saw that Tindómion had turned and stood waiting, alert; Elrohir knew that though Tindómion loved him, he was watching also on Legolas' behalf. He raised his hand to Tindómion to show there was no need for concern but the warrior did not move and now Glorfindel too was glancing behind. Elrohir felt a flash of irritation. Did they think he would strike Legolas?

And then he was ashamed for he had come close after Legolas slew the Orc, and he had been violent in the way he had forced the crystôl upon Legolas. Were they not right to feel concern? His reputation was violent and full of revenge, fury. No wonder they feared for Legolas who had dared to cross him as they did not…What they did not know was how that resistance and defiance stirred him. More dangerous indeed. That lust in Elrohir needed to sleep, needed to be kept silent and deep within him, and he did not dare stir it for fear of the obliterating darkness that overcame him.

'For what my opinion is worth, my father has chosen well in you,' he said tersely. 'And if any will resist the Ring, it is as Aragorn says; it will be you… May the blessing of your Wood be upon you, Legolas Thranduillion. Though we never meet again this side of the Sea…' He wanted to part on a blessing, to show Legolas that he was capable of generosity too, but he could not finish what he wanted to say for suddenly he could not think. The idea that Legolas might fall was beyond his imagining and he felt a crushing weight in his heart that overwhelmed him.

Suddenly the images he had seen in the Mirror thrust themselves upon him; Legolas lost in a rapture with the wind pulling back his long, long hair and a winged shadow falling over him. It had roused him then and it did now. Beyond reason.

So he said nothing more but turned his horse's head towards Tindómion and the road, and feeling his rider's anxious tension, his horse tossed his mane and lifted his tail high and cantered sideways down the paved road towards Tindómion, who lifted his hand in farewell to someone beyond Elrohir, and he knew it was Legolas.

He would not look back. He did not dare for he knew that he would turn and gallop back and throw himself from his horse to crush Legolas to him, to kiss him hard and passionately…No. He would not look back.

0o0o

Legolas watched Elrohir canter out of Imladris, stiff-backed and aloof. His sable cloak swirled around him and his long black hair streamed out behind him. Tindómion raised his hand to Legolas but he did not see…

'For what my opinion is worth, my father has chosen well in you. And if any will resist the Ring, it is as Aragorn says; it will be you. May the blessing of your Wood be upon you, Legolas Thranduillion. Though we never meet again this side of the Sea…'

That was what Elrohir had said to him as he left. Legolas heart thumped in his chest and he half-closed his eyes, oblivious to all around him until a hand pressed on his arm and he looked down to see Gimli's concerned eyes gazing up at him brightly.

'Legolas? What did he say to you?' Gimli asked aggressively. 'Are you alright?'

'Do not fear, my friend.' Legolas smiled his sweet smile. 'He said that Elrond had chosen well and that I would resist the Ring.' He laughed. 'Who would have imagined! Elrohir Elrondion gave me his approval.' Then he cast a mischievous look at the Dwarf. 'He did not say that of you.'

Gimli gave a shout of laughter that made those around them look at them and some smiled. 'Then he has less wisdom than I gave him credit for!' he said. Then he grew serious. 'Aragorn has said that we leave at dusk. You and I will leave with Boromir and Aragorn as if we travelled over the Misty Mountains together, and then you and I will go on together through Mir…the forest while Aragorn and Boromir go south.'

'Dusk seems a strange time to start a journey,' Legolas said softly.

Gimli said nothing but stared down the road after the Elven warriors who they could still see, the weak winter sun glinting on their armour. Then he turned to Legolas and said, 'I have written letters for my family. I will give them to that fellow Lindir to give to the next company who are travelling over the mountains. And I have something for you.' The Dwarf held something out to him, something small and round and gleaming. 'It has been made to suit your hand, and the curve you set in your throwing.'

It was a roulette.

'Look after this one. You were careless with the last one and left it with an Orc.' Gimli's earth-brown eyes watched Legolas carefully, maybe a little anxiously perhaps.

Legolas took the roulette and turned it in his hands admiringly. He had wondered what Gimli was doing watching him practice with his knives. The edge was perfectly smooth, steel chased with bronze and copper, etched upon it was an oak leaf, and ash and birch. Legolas looked at Gimli in delight. 'It is beautiful, Gimli. Thank you.' He held it up to the weak winter light and examined it, his long fingers finding the lever that clicked and released the tiny serrated blades that would tear through flesh and bone. He spun it in his hand admiringly.

'I am glad it has pleased you,' Gimli said in a satisfied voice. 'Now come, we have much to do if we are to take advantage of what has been done here. And I would ease any burden from Aragorn's shoulders today. Thus I am in charge of packing the Hobbits and preparing them for the road,' he announced.

'Then I shall take charge of Bill since you have everything else ordered,' Legolas declared and he put his arm around Gimli's shoulders companionably. 'I suppose we will eat before we leave. I cannot see even Mithrandir getting the Hobbits to leave before supper.'

0o0o

His room did not look any barer now that he had shoved all his meagre belongings onto the bed. He had fed and watered Bill and packed the load ready to hoist onto the pony's back, and now returned from the armoury having honed his knives once more but he had also wanted to admire the roulette and practice a throw. It had scissored into the straw dummy like a scythe and there were a few other worriers there who had looked at him enviously and then looked at him curiously when he told them it was a gift from his friend, Gimli Gloinsson. Now he heaped all his possessions, such as they were, in the middle of his bed and began shoving them into his pack. He had no farewells left to make now and simply waited to leave.

There was a soft tap on the door and he looked up as Berensul stuck his head round the door and grinned at him sheepishly.

Well maybe one more farewell, Legolas sighed to himself.

'I heard you were leaving.' Berensul gave a weak smile and stood hesitantly at the doorway. 'I wanted to bid you farewell and make sure we part on good terms.'

Legolas looked down at his feet, a little unsure quite what to say for he was still annoyed that Berensul had lied to him. But he had a kind heart and hated the hurt that he could see in Berensul's eyes. 'We are on good terms,' he said and looked up with a smile.

Berensul took that as permission to come into Legolas' room and stood near the heap of Legolas' belongings. 'I hope your journey goes well and you have fairer weather than when you arrived…' Berensul said looking down at the meagre pile, a little sadly. 'Although Mandos only knows why you are leaving now. I heard that you travel with the Dwarf,' Berensul continued and looked at Legolas keenly. 'It is strange that you have become friends of a sort.' He fingered the cloak that Legolas had cast onto the bed beside his quiver and long white knives.

'Our path lies also with Aragorn for a while, over the mountains at least,' Legolas told him. 'And Boromir goes with him to Gondor. It is he who hastens us,' he said and shrugged. 'It matters not to me whether we travel in daylight or night.'

'That Boromir will be a grim companion!' Berensul trailed his hand over Legolas' bow, eyes cast downwards, and then he picked up the white knives that were set precisely on the bed next to his bow.

'Boromir? He is anxious about his city,' Legolas said, standing and carefully taking the knife from Berensul's hands and putting it back onto the bed. It was not that he did not want Berensul touching anything, but they were killing-sharp and he did not think Berensul understood. 'It is hard to believe that beyond the Valley the world is on the brink of war. Sauron assails Minas Tirith and it will fall if not for Boromir and his father. He returns at least with the Heir of Isildur.'

'Well that will be all he returns with,' said Berensul rather sadly. 'It seems that everyone is leaving today. The Hobbits leave with Mithrandir back to their home, it is said, although Bilbo stays. It seems they have had a long time visiting and would have left sooner had Bilbo's nephew not been waylaid and injured.' He shivered. "It is hardly to be believed that the Nazgûl would be interested in mere travellers. That they are abroad is unsettling. One wonders what has brought them this side of the Mountains.'

Legolas cast him a quick look but Berensul did not really look much concerned and sat on Legolas' bed and stretched out his legs. 'Did you know that Glorfindel has something with him of great import. It is supposed to be a secret mission, but I have heard they are going to the Havens with some great treasure. I hope the Enemy will not attack all our great captains as they ride together for that would leave us defenceless. Our poor Elladan still lies in the Healing rooms and has not awoken. So Aragorn will ride to Minas Tirith on his own I fear. Perhaps the Dunédain will ride with him for they are his folk.' Berensul sighed and looked up at Legolas through his eyelashes more than a little coyly. 'Elemé has told me she is tired of me and is seeing another,' he said sighing heavily and Legolas laughed and threw a cushion at him.

'Cease this!' he cried. 'It will do you no good. I saw you with Elemé the other night in the Hall of Fire and she was looking nowhere but at you.'

Berensul grinned irrepressibly. 'You cannot blame me for trying,' he said. He was about to lean back and stretch out on Legolas' bed but Legolas caught his arm and pulled him to his feet.

'We may never see each other again and that is very sad,' Berensul said, standing too close to Legolas and leaning in hopefully.

'I know. It is very sad.' Legolas said briskly and without a trace of sorrow or longing in his voice. 'You should visit the Woodland Realm one day,' he added quite seriously, 'I think you and Elemé would be much happier there. You would enjoy the festivals particularly.'

'Perhaps we will visit then,' Berensul said not at all seriously. 'If we can brave the goblins of the Hithaeglir and the wargs of the Wild and the terrifying Beornings and the spiders of Mirk… the Wood.' He leaned against Legolas and stroked one finger through the long, pale gold hair.

'You will be most welcome,' Legolas said, steeping back ever so slightly but smiling nonetheless. 'And you need not fear the spiders for I will come to meet you at the edge of the forest and be your guide. We will dine on spider pie and wrap Elemé in spider silk.'

'You know,' Berensul eyed Legolas speculatively, and leaned in again as if for a kiss 'Elemé is quite happy to join us.'

Legolas gave a shout of laughter and marched Berensul to the door. Berensul protested all the way and just as Legolas was about to push him firmly outside, he turned and said, 'I have also been told to take any letters you might have. My lord Erestor had inks and paper put in your room if you wish to write anything for your family although I cannot think why if you return there tomorrow. But I never question Erestor. He might turn into a wolf and eat me.'

So it was Erestor who had thought to put paper and ink in his room, thought Legolas and smiled; the counsellor was not as bad as his reputation. He remembered the kiss Erestor had given him on leaving for Phellanthir when Legolas was still a little adrift in the aftermath of the lhach-rhaw and crystôl. There had been nothing soft or kind in that. 'I have already written them.' Legolas picked up the packet of letters from the desk and held them towards Berensul. 'Tell my lord Erestor it was a kindness.'

Berensul looked at the packet curiously and then glanced up at Legolas. 'You have a firm, bold hand,' he said mischievously.

And at that Legolas pushed Berensul against the door and thoroughly kissed him because he did not know when he might be able to kiss anyone again, and it might be his last. Then he shut the door firmly in Berensul's gasping, flushed face before he gave into himself again and leaned against it laughing.

0o0o

The day had become cold and grey and the East wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees and seething in the dark pines on the hills. Ragged clouds were hurrying overhead, dark and low.** As the cheerless shadows of evening began to fall Legolas picked up his bow and strapped on his quiver and the light pack he had brought with him over the Mountains. He ran his hands quickly over his belt for the small knives and the precious roulette that Gimli had given him. He pressed his hands over this breeches feeling the hidden knives strapped to his thigh and calf and within his boot, and then reached back to check his white knives were safely in their sheath at his back. He took one last look around the luxurious room that he barely touched and quietly closed the door behind him.

He ran lightly down the wide steps and into the cold evening. He spared a glance upwards to the cold and empty chambers where the sons of Elrond and his great captains dwelt but there was no one there; already they were galloping down the Greenaway and into the wilds, towards Amon Sul where they hoped to meet the Nazgûl and Sauron's armies. Legolas sent a little prayer to Elbereth to keep them safe and he felt a sudden heaviness in his chest that had nothing to do with his own journey.

Imladris was quiet, most folk were inside the Hall of Fire or their own homes for it was cold and wintry and there was little cheer. He looked for Amron but did not see him and was disappointed for he thought the Imladrian Elf might have bid him farewell. There was no Berensul either and Legolas gave a wry smile. He had clearly made no impression on anyone at all. He shrugged it off and made his way to the stables for he was going to bring Bill.

As Legolas walked through the stables, horses put their heads over their doors and nickered welcomingly. He stroked the soft noses as he passed and spoke to each one and finally came to where Bill was happily tugging at hay and munching it contentedly. Bill swung his head round to regard Legolas warily, ears pricked and nostrils slightly flared. When he saw Legolas he huffed and returned to the hay for he had grown used to Legolas over the weeks since he had been asked to join the Fellowship.

Legolas stroked Bill's soft nose and let the pony nibble at his hand. He sighed. Though he was full of the nervous excitement that any journey brings, his heart felt leaden.

'I am sorry to do this to you, Bill,' he murmured and rubbed the pony on his forehead. 'Surely you are better off here in the warm than coming with us on this journey into the dark?' Sam had insisted that Bill would pine if he did not accompany the Fellowship though and Gandalf had agreed but Legolas thought perhaps Sam had still not quite understood what he was asking of this little pony.

At last Bill was as ready as he possibly could be and the pony was placidly tugging at hay and crunching it happily, regardless of the load that Legolas was piling onto his back. There were pots and flint and a small box of salt that Sam had insisted he carefully stow. Pippin had brought down several blankets and insisted he did not want anyone to be cold but Legolas carefully put them to one side with an eye to Bill who he thought already would hardly be able to stand with all the luggage the Hobbits wanted him to carry.

'Now don't you be letting Master Merry and Master Pippin give Bill everything to carry,' Sam had warned Legolas earlier. 'If they want something they can carry it themselves. All Bill should carry is what's going to help everyone. '

Legolas gave Bill one last pat and a piece of apple he had saved and gently pulled the strap that secured the packs and pans to Bill's broad back. The pony gave a heavy sigh and chewed on the hay. When Legolas picked up the lead rein, Bill gave him a reproachful look and took a last huge mouthful of hay and then slowly plodded after Legolas so his guilt was complete.

The Hobbits were standing on the steps where Legolas had arrived in the rain those months ago, when he had pushed and pushed at the great door with such memorably little success. The Hobbits had thick cloaks lined with fur pulled around them but Pippin was already shivering. Bilbo was there too, huddled into his coat and his hands stuck deep into his pockets. Merry and Frodo were looking at Pippin in concern and Sam was just about to give Pippin his own cloak but was distracted from it by Bill's arrival. Immediately he went over to Bill and scratched him behind the ears and fished out a carrot from his pocket.

'Don't rightly know why you are so set to come with us, Bill,' he murmured quietly to the pony, taking the lead rein from Legolas in a proprietorial way. 'You should stay here in the warm and dry where there's hay and feed and grass.' * Legolas did not remind Sam that he was the one who had insisted it was Bill they took with them.

Bill said nothing but nudged Sam demandingly hoping for another carrot.

Gimli went to stand beside Pippin and looked at him kindly. 'It is quite normal to be over-excited when you start on a new adventure,' he said, clasping his great axe in his hand and slapping the haft against the palm of his hand. 'I need a few Orcs to swing this at but I am afraid I cleared this whole area when we went to the Angle.' He looked around at the company as if for confirmation but Aragorn was too busy holding Arwen's hand and kissing it and Boromir was fingering his horn restlessly. Legolas merely raised a quizzical eyebrow but he said nothing for he knew the Dwarf merely reassured Pippin. 'Did I not, Legolas?' he called over to Legolas who showed his white teeth.

'They ran from you screaming like little dwarven maids.'

'Dwarves never run and they never scream!' Gimli retorted and Legolas gave a wide smile to Pippin who grinned back more cheerfully.

'It will be a long way indeed before we meet anything worse than a jack rabbit!' Legolas agreed. 'I do not think there will be anything to fear between here and the Hithaeglir apart from a Dwarf's stray axe.'

'That is the Misty Mountains,' Merry whispered to Pippin knowledgeably.

'I know that, Merry. It's what happens when we get to the Misty Mountains that worries me.'

Bill stood swishing his tail and rested one hind hoof while Sam fussed around him anxiously and Legolas wished again that they were not taking this beast so precious to Sam, and so sweet in himself. He resolved to take special care of Bill and to make sure that if the worst came, he would not fall into the hands of goblins or Orcs. But he did not like the thought.

'What are we waiting for?' he whispered to Boromir.

'Hm? Oh, Gandalf. He is still within with Elrond.'

'What are they doing?' Legolas supposed they must have important things to discuss but he too wished to be gone. Boromir did not answer and Legolas glanced at the Man; he seemed drawn into himself and was silent.

Just then the doors swung back and Elrond emerged, closely followed by Gandalf. Elrond stood on the wide steps and looked down at the small group. 'This is my last word,' the Lord of Imladris said. 'The Ring-bearer is setting out on the quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid; neither to cast away the Ring nor deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it save members of the Company or the Council and only then in gravest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows.'

Legolas felt Gimli come up and stand beside him. The Dwarf gave him a wide grin and planted his feet squarely on the earth.

'For you do not know the strength of your hearts,' Elrond continued, looking at each one of them in turn. 'And you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road.' Elrond lifted his hands in a blessing.

''Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens!' Gimli's strong, deep voice interrupted Elrond who turned his head to look at the Dwarf.

'Maybe,' Elrond said and there was the mildest note of irritation in his voice. 'but let him not vow to walk in the dark who has not yet seen nightfall.'

Legolas listened with interest; that was one of his father's favourites when either he or Thalos had done something to annoy him. It was never something he said to Laersul, for nothing Laersul ever did was reckless or foolhardy or likely to cause anyone annoyance or inconvenience. Ever. Legolas felt Gimli shift and the Dwarf let his great war axe fall slowly so the head rested on the ground and the Dwarf leaned on it and looked at Elrond. Legolas caught Pippin's eye then which were round and the Hobbit's mouth had fallen open that Gimli was contradicting Elrond.

'Five pieces on Elrond.' Legolas heard a murmur and glanced around slightly shocked but more intrigued. Erestor was behind him, his vulpine eyes narrow and calculating

'Done,' he whispered back softly.

'Yet sworn word,' Gimli declared in a strong voice that was clear in its intention to have the last word, 'may strengthen quaking heart.' Legolas was impressed; that must be a Dwarvish one for he had not heard that. He tucked it away to throw at his father next time he used it…And hoped he would have the chance.

Elrond seemed to gather himself then, drawing himself up to his full height he said rather more loudly than necessary, 'Or break it!' And then quickly before Gimli had a chance to reply, the Lord of Imladris added, 'Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of the Elves and Men and all free folk go with you.''

Gandalf's blue eyes were twinkling but he said nothing, just nodded at Gimli and the Dwarf folded his arms over his chest and huffed into his beard.

Erestor coughed quietly and Legolas discretely fished about in the inner pocket of his tunic and his fingers clutched at some of the coins he had won at cards.

'May the stars shine upon your faces!' Elrond was saying and surely there was a trace of smugness there?

'May the stars indeed shine upon you,' Erestor said quietly and held out his hand. He smiled at Legolas as he slipped the coins into the counsellor's hand. 'Your faith in the Dwarf is very touching but I have known Elrond for a very long time. The only ones who ever beat him to the last word were Elros, and Maedhros. And no Dwarf is a match for either of those two.'

'Time to go I think,' murmured Gandalf who was clearly getting grumpy and wanted to start. He gave Frodo a little nudge. The Hobbit had been standing with Bilbo. Now he took a step forwards. Sam turned Bill's head towards the road and Pippin and Merry followed after, along with Boromir and Gimli. Aragorn lingered for a moment holding Arwen's hand.

Legolas looked back once and then turned and strode off in the footsteps of the Man who walked into his destiny. Those who had gathered to bid them farewell faded back now into the dusk and though the doors of Imladris stood open and the light fell from it onto the paved courtyard, only one figure stood against the light still watching until she could see them no more. But there were others who watched from the shadows and who knew this moment was immense and that none in this company would remain unchanged, that each of them walked into the tales of old, and their destiny.

The End.

* The Nazgûl say this to Legolas in Sons of Thunder when they have him. The full story of what happened to Erestor will be told in Narmofinion now that I have finished this fic.

** Direct extract from LOTR