One shot assuming Legolas and Gimli had not gone to the Undying lands after The Return of the King
Legolas gazed towards the looming mountain, and imagined it full of life, instead of deserted and empty. He rode confidently, feeling content in the saddle with the comforting weight of a quiver of arrows strung across his back. Halting the grey stallion, he realised how strange it felt to ride alone, having grown so accustomed to travelling with the dwarf's bulky figure behind him. He remembered Gimli with a fond smile, the dwarf that had been not only a loyal friend, but a brother. They had fought side by side for a lifetime, and journeyed together for what seemed like eternity, but now the union had been shattered by the shadows of death, and Legolas faced the lands of Middle Earth alone. The last time he had seen Aragorn was a year past, his face as pale as the tree on his chest, lying motionless with Anduril clasped between his fingers.
A gentle tug at the leather reins turned Arod away from the Lonely Mountain, as Legolas turned away from his past, wiping the battles fought and friends lost from his mind, focusing on the path leading towards the horizon.
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