Someday

Rating: PG

Summary: The snow has an effect on a young, restless, Legolas (pre-FoTR).

Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and his genius mind.

A/N: This was a really short idea that popped into my head while listening to the LoTR soundtrack, which is amazing, btw, so I had to write it down. I know there's not much to it, but I may write more depending on what people thought of it. I really hope you enjoy, please read and review!

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The trees were gorgeous in the winter. That was one of the first things that registered into Legolas Greenleaf's mind as his lithe elvish body made its way through the snow-covered trees. He marveled in their beauty, even in their ash colored state. He normally preferred the fresh green color everything usually had in most of the places the young elf had ever been to, but this place was exceptionally beautiful, much to his surprise. It was so full of nature, and such raw emotions coursed through the scenery, causing Legolas to shudder in delight. He had rarely seen snow , even in the thousand or so years he had been alive.

He was still considered relatively young, and that was one of the thoughts that had brought the young prince to the woods before sunrise. So much had he to learn and yet it seemed as though time were standing still in Mirkwood. He learned little in all the years he had lived here, only the bare essentials, in his opinion, and he grew less each year. There was naught here to please him anymore, and he tired of everything. He had memorized each tree, he knew every elven face, and even some other creatures. What else was keeping him here?

Picking up a fistful of snow from the ground, Legolas crushed it into a ball and threw it against a tree with perfect aim. It relieved little frustration.

"What, indeed, is the point?" he sighed, stopping in his tracks. His green and brown tunic served as poor protection against the icy winds that thrust as the elf, yet he shivered not. "I must leave Mirkwood, or I fear I shall not survive much longer."

He looked down to find everything blanketed in white. With another small sigh, he closed his frost blue eyes and threw his arms out to his sides. Without hesitation, he let himself fall backwards and was immediately drawn into the millions of soft flakes, amazed at how deep it was.

The sun would be coming up soon, Legolas knew, and he would need to be home by then. There were guests coming, and Thranduil expected his youngest son to be there, though Legolas himself saw no point in attending. He wanted, or rather needed, to stay in this moment for as long as possible, needed to be away from everything for a small instant. He found his fingers curling around the snow, and they found something. Pulling the object out of the snow, Legolas saw it was a leaf, still a bit green, with frosty tips. He sat up and frowned.

"What are you doing out here," he spoke softly, as though he expected the leaf to understand him, and perhaps it did. But he waited for no response. "Mayhap you have been abandoned by your friends. I understand."

He held the tiny leaf towards the now rising sun. It slowly obtained an orange hue to it from the sun's reflection, and he twirled the little thing in his fingers. He saw something glistening and he looked past the leaf to the snow. Legolas sat in awe as he watched the sunlight dance across the mounds of snow piled all around him.

"This is truly a sight. If only I could awake each morning to such beauty, I would be happy for the rest of my life. Alas, I fear naught so beautiful shall ever come to me." Legolas looked down, and long blonde hair covered his eyes. He looked back to the leaf in his hand. "One of us will fly away and never return, and I have a feeling it is not I."

He stood up and brushed the snow from his clothing with his free hand. "Aa' i'sul nora lanne'lle, mellonamin."*

With that, he held it up high and let go. The wind carried the tiny leaf up, let it hover for a moment in the same spot, the dragged it in circles away from the only one watching it.

"Someday," he said firmly, "I will leave this place, letting the wind take me where it will." He paused for only a moment to take in the sight of the white forest, and the turned the other way. "Until then I must stay far from places like this or I shall become even more restless and far to whistful."

As he turned away and headed towards his home, he thought he could hear the trees speaking about him in their own language. He could not catch it all, but distantly heard one word repeated many times among many trees.

"Someday."

*~fin~*

*May the wind fill your sails, my friend