A/N: Thanks for sticking with this! Hope you enjoy (:

Dramatis Personae

Legolas/princeling - son of King Thranduil (86 yo)

Hurin/aew - daughter of Methedras, singer of the trees (83 yo)

King Thranduil - Ruler of Eryn Galen (age unknown)

Mithrandir/Olorin - One of the 5 Maiar sent by the Ainur (sent in the TA)

Glorfindel - Reincarnated elf with great (unknown) powers, was a great warrior in the FA, sent by the Ainur in 1600 SA

Elladan - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Elrohir - son of Elrond, on loan to King Thranduil (970 yo)

Arwen Undomiel - daughter of Lord Elrond (658 yo)

Finglas - member of the Woodland guard (126 yo)

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-Robert Frost

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00

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1100 of the Third Age

Outside the Palace of the Elven King (Eryn Galen)

"I do not accept it!" Húrin huffed storming out of the council chamber. "I can not believe this!"

Legolas ran after her, close on her heels.

Spinning suddenly to face him, fire in her eyes, she bore down on him. "Are you going to stand for this Legolas Thranduilion?! You know of the threat. How can we stand here and do nothing.?"

Legolas put up his hands, in a calming motion and replied in a soothing tone, "Húrin, no one is suggesting that we do nothing."

"It is nothing and you know it Legolas! We did a reconnaissance mission, we know what resides in that cursed hill!" Húrin's voice almost breaking..

Coming closer, Legolas took ahold of both of her arms. "We are not doing nothing, Mithrandir is as outraged as you are, probably more so. You know he will not rest until he has assuaged his fears of what lies in the heart of Dol Guldur."

Setting her chin, she fixed him with a firm gaze. "You know that this is merely a pretense. They do not believe my report. I spoke the black language in those very halls and they brush it aside. You know very well that would it have been Elrohir or Elladan who spoke it, Lord Elrond would have sprung into action!"

Legolas opened his mouth to protest but she shoved his arms off of her and continued her tirade.

"They all believe in the council that my heart is weak, and my mind untrustworthy. That is the only way I can account for how they have voted. Only you, Glorfindel, and Mithrandir stand with me because you can see into my mind and have no reason for distrust."

Legolas, still trying to gently reason with her closed the space that she had imposed between them. "They have no reason to believe that you have changed in your resolution, that you have grown greatly in heart and mind."

Húrin huffed in frustration. "Your ada [father] would have the rest of the lands of all Middle Earth burn and be swallowed by Melkor and for what?! He means for you and I to hunt down the pack that killed your mother and cares for naught else. Dumb beasts who have been reduced of care or remorse." She shot a knowing glance at Legolas.

Stilled by the mention of his mother, and her speaking so freely and coarsely of his father, Legolas fixed Húrin with a cold gaze of his own. "Can you blame him? For not trusting you? For feeling betrayed? For feeling anger in his every breath since her death?" His eyes narrowed with every question, challenging Húrin's gaze. He did not regret his vote, though he knew he would pay for it later with his father.

She looked back through narrowed eyes of her own before spinning away angrily.

"No!" She shouted into the sky, "I cannot! And that is why I must make this right!" clenching her fists in frustration at her sides. Her breathing was heavy, but her tantrum short as she her anger quickly gave way to shame.

"And they will not let me." She said dejectedly at the ground.

"Perhaps you now understand better the urgency I felt when I first asked you to help me all those years ago." Legolas continued to level at her, coldness still tainting his demeanor.

Húrin shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Do not make this about you, Legolas. I know my faults of the past and I have owned to them. This is entirely different than the time you wished to lay waste to foul creatures for the satisfaction of a bloody revenge."

Legolas flinched a little, and realizing he had gone too far, softened his demeanor, taking a step towards her.

She stayed out of reach, however, not coldly but deliberately, looking out at the trees that bordered the palace. "This is about the fate of Middle Earth. If Sauron is truly rising, then there is need to fear in every creature and forest. I am of the woods, one of the Galadhrim, and I must do my part in ending this before it has begun."

Looking back at him grimly, she gave a small nod in salute. "I must go and speak with Mithrandir."

Legolas watched her go, torn for not the first time. He burned with the desire to go and evict Sauron from Dol Guldur. This was his home, his forest, he was named for the trees and beauty that was here. To think of Sauron residing in the home of his grandfather, slaughtering whoever came through almost made him see red again. But he had seen his father during the council. In all his years of brooding and ill temper, he had never crossed his father, not once. Not even when he had demanded that Legolas defeat one of the twins before he was allowed on patrols, keeping him from what he desired most.

His father was adamant that ridding the immediate area, keeping the forests nearer to their home now was more important. What did he care about a fool's errand fighting the world's battles when his own home had already suffered such loss. Perhaps he could be reasoned with, but not now. Legolas had noticed that seeing Húrin always put his father in a foul mood, and a life would spring to his eyes that would make the most hardened of the Woodland Guard quake in their boots.

Sighing, he went off to train on the archery field to help quiet his mind and turmoil of emotions.

Grasping his bow, he began to fire downfield, wishing not for the first time that he had begun his training much earlier in life. He shot until his quiver was empty. Most of the shots had landed within the first three rings and he tore out the ones that had gone astray with evident frustration.

Out of habit, he glanced up at the sparring grounds, expecting to see it empty. To his surprise, he saw Húrin, practicing stances against a wooden dummy. From her movements, he could also tell she was working out some frustration as her punches were hard, and her balance nearly off.

Stowing his bow, he jogged up the hill. Sweat covered her brow and though her hair was back in a braid, loose strands created a halo from which beads sprayed off in every direction.

Have you come to correct my form? Húrin's voice appeared in his mind, bitterness in its every note as she continued to punch and kick away at the wooden man.

No, Legolas thought back gently, merely to provide a better partner than one made of wood.

Húrin looked at him, an expression of amusement and surprise in her face. You have never offered to spar with me before.

I take it that Mithrandir was not forthcoming with his plans. Changing the subject, as he selected some wooden knives for himself.

Húrin's face became serious again. He says I am ill trained and not ready.

She paused for a moment in her fervor and stared vehemently at the wooden man. He's not wrong.

Beginning her assault once again, she continued. I believe even he has his doubts about what I truly heard. And even if I am correct, he pointed out that it's no guarantee that it was Sauron who spoke the words. Saruman has denied it to be a possibility.

Legolas selected some wooden knives from the rack and threw them towards her which she caught deftly mid punch.

Looking down at the knives, she looked up at him blankly. I have never used these before.

Then I shall teach you. He said patiently.

"Let's put aside the formal learning forms for a moment. You have taught yourself many things naturally. I am going to come at you slowly, and we'll just see how you react to my approach." Legolas instructed, readying himself.

Húrin nodded and crouched herself, ready for him to strike.

Legolas moved towards her. She could tell that his movements were restrained and his footsteps seemed slow and deliberate. Instinctively, she moved to block one of his knives and twisted to dodge the other.

He smiled. "That was good! There is a great advantage in dual knives. While one defends, another may attack. If you are able to defend one knife and dodge the other, that will leave you free to attack with the other knife. Look for an opening."

Húrin nodded and crouched down again.

They went on in this way for many hours. Almost all of the attempts left Húrin sprawled on the ground, but she was making real progress, she could feel it. Legolas was still moving at what he considered to be his slowest pace, but she had to start somewhere, and this method seemed to be effective.

"Care to switch up the partners?" A voice called.

Both Húrin and Legolas looked over. So engrossed they had been in sparring that they had failed to notice that they were no longer alone.

Elrohir, as well as several maidens and members of the Woodland Guard had gathered to watch.

Húrin looked around at the elves gathered and then gave Legolas an incredulous look. How has a crowd ensued when it is merely the defeating of a truly unworthy opponent over and over again?

Legolas also looked confused, and then concerned. I do not know.

Realizing that neither of them had answered, Legolas gave a small bow, and addressed the small crowd. "To whom will I be issued a challenge? I will gladly spar with any number of you."

A female member of the guard with golden blonde hair and striking features stepped forward. "I am Finglas, and though I have never had the honor of traveling in your party, I have heard tell of your great prowess in battle."

Legolas bowed and moved so that he was in a different sparring ring than Húrin. Húrin, still confused, tried to scan for the glir of this new elf. She didn't recognize her, though there did seem to be something familiar about her.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, breaking Húrin's concentration on the glir of Finglas. She looked up to see Elrohir, looking at her in a kindly way.

"I saw that the council was trying for you young Húrin. How are you faring?" He said quietly. His voice was always like a gentle caress to her emotions, smoothing them.

Húrin, not wanting to divulge everything all at once heaved a sigh. "My feelings are...complicated… on the matter."

Elrohir nodded with understanding, squeezing her shoulder and then resting his attention on the challenge that was about to take place in front of them.

"Why are there so many elves here?" Húrin whispered to Elorohir, motioning with her eyes toward the crowd.

Elrohir smiled knowingly, "Not every kingdom has a young prince who is so fair in his features."

Húrin winced and rolled her eyes. "That is distasteful."

Elrohir smirked, a rather unbecoming reaction, but he was glad to know that Húrin at least was not swayed by the prince's good looks.

In front of them, the two elves began to clash. Húrin quickly realized that this Finglas was a very adept at fighter, graceful and quick. It appeared that Legolas was having trouble pinning her down. It looked to be evenly matched from her perspective. Wooden blades whirled as what looked like an elaborate, yet deadly dance unfolded before her.

"She is quite skilled." Húrin whispered to Elrohir, not taking her eyes from the sparring match.

Elrohir nodded, whispering back. "It is customary in a challenge to test one another's defenses before really engaging. Finglas is indeed a skilled warrior, but Legolas is only toying with her at the moment."

Húrin looked at Legolas in awe. She had seen him fight in the halls of Dol Guldur but there had been so much else going on then, she had not really been paying attention. This was him merely toying with someone? She had such a long way to go she thought miserably.

She turned to Elrohir. "Would you spar with me? I know that I have little experience and even less skill, but I would be honored if you would teach me."

Smiling earnestly now, Elrohir nodded. "It would be my pleasure young Húrin."

He selected a long wooden blade from the row on the wall and moved to the opposite side of the ring.

"What have you learned thus far?" He asked, indicating the twin knives in her hands.

She shook her head. "I have learned very little. This is my first time even grasping the handle of such weapons."

"If you were to naturally hold the knives and ready yourself for attack, what would you do?" Elrohir questioned, examining her.

Húrin thought for a moment and adjusted her grips, now holding the knives so that the blade pointed down, running along her forearms, and then crouched low, nearly touching the ground.

Elrohir continued to examine her, walking over and circling her, a crease growing in between his brows.

"I am not sure that this is the weapon that is suited for you." He mused out loud. "A long handled sword may be better. You are a small, agile fighter, and judging from how you move the trees, extension and vision are your strong suits. Have you tried a sword?"

Húrin again shook her head, getting up from her crouch.

Elrohir went back to the weapons rack and sizing up Húrin, selected a long thin wooden saber. Moving back towards her, he took both the small knives that she held out for him, his fingers brushing her open palms. For a moment, she thought that she saw a slight hesitation before he gently placed the saber into her now empty hands. His eyes definitely lingered on hers for longer than necessary, unsettling her a bit, and yet she could not look anywhere else.

Turning away, he walked back to the other side of the ring.

"Feel its weight in one hand and then the other. Feel the air around the blade as you move it swiftly. This is an extension of you. The hum of this blade is to be an echo of the nerves in your fingers." He instructed, demonstrating by swinging his sword through the air, tossing it effortlessly from hand to hand, never losing momentum.

Húrin gave a few experimental swings with her right arm, and then her left. She did like the feel of this sword. It felt like a more natural extension than any weapons she had tried before. Switching hands was difficult though, and she often dropped the sword between exchanges.

Elrohir chuckled. "It is very difficult to learn both hands at once," he admitted, "But a swordsman who is a threat off of either side is a fierce thing. Particularly for you, I believe that one or other of your hands is often preoccupied with branches. Being able to defend off of either side is essential. Even when both hands are free, you have infinitely more possibilities and versatility when you are ambidextrous with the blade."

She gave a little frown but nodded regardless.

Elrohir began to come at her slowly and as they moved he corrected, telling her how to better parry and redirect energy instead of taking hits straight on. He instructed on how to use momentum to shift an opponent's movement and direct them where you wanted to, how and when to transfer blade hands for unexpected and useful maneuvers.

Húrin may not have been an experienced fighter, but she was very coordinated and had quick reactions from dancing and flying through trees at top speed. This was beginning to feel natural, even more natural than when she had been using the dual knives.

Elrohir was extremely patient and continued to move slowly, giving her chances to correct and at times stopping completely in order to physically correct her stances or grips.

"I yield." Finglas huffed from beneath Legolas. She had kept his attention for a whole 3 minutes, or at least that was what she thought. She had been so nervous to meet him that she thought it may be better to start with something she excelled at. Her friends had advised her that she would not even last 30 seconds, but 3 minutes of undivided attention had been taken from the prince, and for that she was immensely proud of herself.

She then realized that though he was crouched over her, a knife to her throat, his eyes were narrowed at the sparring ring over where one of the sons of Elrond was instructing that tree singer that everyone was talking about.

Worry creeping in where there had been a sense of accomplishment, she lifted her hand in an effort to get his attention and help her up.

It took him a moment to realize that she had extended her arm and he pulled her up, barely looking at her.

"Good match, my prince. You are truly worthy of the words which are spoken of you." She called after his back, his whole attention turned toward the other ring.

"And what words are those Finglas?" He said distractedly, still facing away from her.

"That you are to be feared above all in battle. I have heard tell that your prowess is even spoken of in the halls of Elrond and Galadriel."

"Mmm" Was all the response that she received.

Not one to give up though she was growing more and more nervous, Finglas moved forward putting a hand on his shoulder from behind. "Come, teach me something I do not know."

Legolas, mentally sighing, but not one to brush off one of the guard turned towards her. "As you wish."

He turned back towards his own ring, and began to put her through the paces of a complicated pin.

I see that you have traded up. Came the joking tone of Húrin in his mind.

Legolas laughed darkly in response. I do not see it that way. Perhaps I could say the same to you.

Mmm. She paused. You may be a stronger warrior but Elrohir is a better teacher.

Legolas gritted his teeth, both an insult and a compliment, he did not know which affected him or his temper more strongly.

You are enjoying the use of a sword then? He asked.

It is the superior weapon for me I believe. She responded. It truly feels like an extension of myself.

He fought to keep from wrinkling his nose. He was not as adept with a sword and would not make a good teacher, regardless now.

From between the crowd, he noticed an elf approaching. It was Maeglin, the messenger of the King.

"Legolas, your father has sent for you. He wishes to speak with you in his chambers."

A little thankful and a little wary, Legolas quickly bowed to Finglas and ran to follow Maeglin.

Standing alone now in the ring, Finglas turned to watch him go. That did not go as it should have.

"I did not think I had to worry about the loyalties of my own son." hissed Thranduil, circling Legolas as they both stood in the throne room.

"I am loyal to you, ada. As I always have been." Legolas stated, chin in the air.

"Then why," His voice was dangerous and soft, like a coiled panther. "Did you vote with that useless Galadhrim (tree singer)? You know her to be a treacherous, cowardly excuse for an elf."

Legolas stiffened at that, but otherwise did not look affected. "I believe her. That is not taking a side, if she speaks the truth, we would be fools to not to act."

Thranduil turned away. "You call me a fool?" He asked calmly.

"No ada. I am merely paying heed to what I know to be true." Legolas said flatly. Do not portray emotion was something that he had learned very early on after his mother's death.

Changing tact, Thranduil again began pacing around Legolas. "You have a lot of faith in this tree singer. I have been watching you, my son." He paused as Legolas fought not to flinch. "You two are nearly inseparable. What can be the meaning of this friendship? I know you to have sworn her off many times."

"Have you not spoken to Glorfindel?"

"Oh, I have spoken to Glorfindel." He murmured softly, "I made sure to speak with him after you and Húrin created that monstrosity in our banquet hall."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at the word choice but stayed silent.

"He says that you two do not have affections for one another." Thranduil said slowly, watching Legolas intently.

"This is true, yes?" Thranduil asked when Legolas did not react.

"I cannot say for certain." He said, swallowing hard.

"Mmm," muttered Thranduil, examining his own fingers, "And why is that?"

"I do not know where her affections lie." Legolas stated truthfully.

"And yours?"

Legolas stayed silent.

"AND YOURS?!" Thranduil roared.

Legolas did not flinch, merely closing his eyes.

"I will not have you allied to your mother's murderer!" Thranduil continued to roar.

Breaking, Legolas spun towards him. "She is not her murderer! Even now she takes blame for actions that were not hers."

"You defend her?! When you know that your mother gave her life for this elleth who REFUSED to avenge her death?"

Coming closer to his face, Legolas yelled back, tears beginning to start in his eyes, "You know that mother CHOSE to give her life for Húrin! It was not asked for. And since then Húrin has thought of nothing but to make the debt good. Her whole life has not been her own since the day you brought her here!"

"Oh, I am to blame now?" Thranduil hissed dangerously.

"No!" Bellowed Legolas. "But neither is she. Ada, she is not even of age, and yet she is striving to take on her shoulders the problems of all Middle Earth!"

"If she is, it is about 80 years too late." The king replied darkly.

"What would you have her do?" Legolas retorted.

Thranduil looked straight back into Legolas's eyes, the piercing stare of a broken soul.

"Bring your mother back." He spat.

A tear fell from Legolas's eye. "You know that to be impossible."

Thranduil turned away, "Until it is, Húrin is no longer welcome in this kingdom."

Shocked, Legolas opened his mouth to protest.

Thranduil turned, his anger bubbling just below the surface in a way that made Legolas shiver. "I will not hear of any protest. This is your fault my son. Had you not become so close, I would not be pushed into doing this. But you have chosen poorly, so I must right your judgement. As we speak, she is escorted out of this kingdom. Do not speak of this again."

"Or what?" Legolas said hotly.

He gently stroked, Legolas's cheek, coming to rest, cupping his chin. For a moment, he almost felt as though his father was really looking at him, seeing the plea in his eyes, but then he saw Thranduil's eyes were far away. As though he was looking for something within Legolas, and he could not find it.

"You look so much like your mother." Thranduil murmured so softly that Legolas almost didn't hear it, his eyes still unfocused.

Legolas almost opened his mouth to ask his question again, but the expression on his father's face made it so that he could not find his voice. The question crumbled away as Thranduil's unfocused eyes stared past Legolas and then turned away.

"You are dismissed." Thranduil said absently waving his hand, his back already receding away from Legolas.

Hanging his head, Legolas let all the tears he had been trying to keep back fall of their own accord. Then, remembering what his father had said, he ran as fast as he could out of the throne room, winding his way back to the training grounds.

Húrin! His mind screamed. Húrin!

Panic rose as there was no response. He burst onto the training grounds, seeing Elrohir cleaning the wooden blades that he and Húrin had been using.

"Elrohir! Húrin! Where is she?" Legolas managed to say between deep breaths.

Elrohir, in his infuriating calm demeanor, clasped him on the shoulder, "She was taken the moment you left. She is now traveling back to Lothlorien with Arwen."

"I must go!" Legolas began to run in the general direction of the stables, but a firm hand grabbed his forearm.

He looked back to see Elrohir shaking his head gravely. "The King has forbidden that you leave."

"Forbidden?!" Legolas nearly screamed in frustration.

With sad eyes that made him loath Elrohir all the more, the son of Elrond took his shoulder in his other hand. No words were spoken, and yet they both knew the other to be in similar pain.

"I am not to leave either." Elrohir murmured softly. "Your father still claims his borders need protection, and my father wants to monitor Dol Guldur. Elladan and I are in the best position now to do so."

Legolas smiled bitterly. "Is your misery supposed to assuage mine?"

Elrohir chuckled. "Perhaps not, but it does love the company does it not?"

Legolas gave a scoff and then pulling himself free of Elrohir, began to walk away.

Elrohir took a step towards him, but Legolas held out his hand. "Do not concern yourself, I am merely going to my chambers."

Legolas wandered the halls for a little while, deeply indulging in self-pity, regretting every biting remark he had made towards Húrin during her short time back, before finally making back to his room. '

Opening the door, his despair was so great that he almost didn't notice that his whole apartments had been transformed. Looking up and around, he marveled at the intricate, silvery twistings of what used to be plain elm in his room. The patterns were reminiscent of his ceremonial braids and his mother's crest, and they gave a soft glow. In the middle of his bed lay a small piece of parchment with a bird sitting atop it patiently.

He ran over to the note, shooing away the bird, nearly ripping it open in his haste.

Dearest Legolas,

By now I have gone out of reach of our bond. I am sorry that this is the way that we have left things, but know that I harbor no ill will towards you or your father for this present circumstance. There is much real hurt and I know that I am responsible for a great portion of it.

I already miss your presence, and I shall always consider you my closest friend. I wanted to thank you for always pushing me. You have stepped up in ways I have faltered and not allowed me to sit in unrealistic ideals. You have made me grow in only ways that you could have. Thank you for speaking truth and not holding back, even though it often ended in argument.

I want you to know that I will never stop the fight against the darkness and I hope with the deepest part of my heart that you do as well. I know your mind. Please do not succumb that which plagues our most hated enemies. Please Legolas. Do not allow yourself to become lost. My heart could not take it should you become one with the rage we have fought so hard to keep from our loved ones.

I do not know if you desire it, but I left a little reminder of me in your room, the silver branches have starlight sung into them and they are able to heal nonfatal wounds. If they are too much, you may place your hand on them and think of them how they were and they should go back. Also, I asked this kindly lark to deliver this note for you, so if you could give it some seeds for its trouble, I would greatly appreciate it.

My heart shall weep until I see you again Legolas,

Húrin

He read over and over the letter, and then looked over at the bird. Lucky little creature, Húrin must have sung into him his instructions. If only he could send her some back. He flopped onto his back in frustration. Why couldn't he sing into things as easily as she could?

The bird hopped up onto Legolas's chest, and gave him a little peck, obviously hungry. He looked at it and chuckled.

"Well, I suppose you have done me a service little one. Let us find you some seeds."

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