I do not own any of these characters.

No slash, romance, humor, drama, horror, suspense, parody, or anything else of that nature purposely worked into this fic. It has not been betad, I wish to present it as I wrote it. This is simply my idea of a possible journal entry written by Legolas four days after the fellowship started out. All opinions in here are mine and mine alone.

I hope I put the right month, I got it from the appendices of RotK, elvish for December, I think.

And a special thanks to Jan and Yuna, who both caught the elvish death error. I thank you for saying something.

This is the revised version.

Ringarë 29

We have traveled far today. Our camp is set up far enough away from the road to not attract unwelcome travelers such as the dark Nazgul. Although they were washed away with Elrond's flood, we still fear their return.

The dwarf who travels in our company is speaking of me again. He talks to no one, only wishing to hear the sound of his voice. He sends snide comments my way, as he does every night. He finds me aloof. Actually, to be accurate, he actually finds me to be, "A stuck-up, snobbish, spoiled king's brat who is completely lost in a fantasy world where he is the hero, despite his lack of fighting know how." His words sting sharply, though I know not why. He is but a dwarf! A greedy creature of the deep caverns whose actions plunder and wound the world. His words should not wound me! I do not seek, nor even wish to have, his approval. I wish for none of their approval, save Mithrandir. He is the only one among us who I speak to willingly. As I glance up at him, I see his disapproving frown. That hurts me far worse then the dwarf's remarks. This quest is only four days old, and already I have earned his scorn! I know what he will tell me to do so I may regain his trust and approval. He will say this, "Open your heart and mind Legolas. Accept them into your life, for the nine of us are bound together now. We need to be completely united so our quest may succeed." Mithrandir does not seem to realize that I cannot! I cannot accept these-these mortals into my life! It is not that I am spoiled or snobbish…it is just that I am scared. Yes, me, Prince Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, am scared. This isn't the type of fear I felt when I fought my first spider or faced my first orc. Nay, it is more like the fear I felt when my brother was swept away by the river those many years ago. The fear of my heart breaking. Dwarves are mortal, hobbits are mortal, and humans are mortal. They will all die someday. If I allow myself to grow close to them, surely my heart will break when they die.

One heartbreak I believe I can tolerate, two maybe, but seven? My grief surely would be enough to kill me!

That is another of my fears. Death. I know that when elves die, they go to the Hall of Mandros. What they do there, I do not know, for I have never been, and never asked anyone who has been there. I fear the actual process of dying though. Does it hurt to die? What happens to mortals when they die? They do not go to the Hall of Mandros. Where do they go? What if I become mortal and die? Will I still go to the Hall of Mandros? These are things I should have asked of Elrond or Glorfindel before we left Rivendell. Mithrandir might know what I seek, but he is not elven, so I do not know if he will know or not.

He is watching me again. The littlest hobbit…Pippin, I believe his name is. He is asking me something, but I am pretending to ignore him.

Oh what a fool I am! His question was such that I looked up, startled that he could ask such a thing! Why did I hate them so? That was his question! Dear little hobbit, it is not hate I feel for you and our other companions. I merely fear losing you. I do not wish to face the heartache of the loss of a friend seven times over.

Now he asks me to tell of Mirkwood, to share my home the way I see it. The other hobbits have gathered around me, they wish to hear as well. Even the men and dwarves show interest, though they do try to hide it.

It seems this little group has managed to steal my heart despite my attempts to shield myself. Surely it cannot hurt to indulge them, can it?

I must end here then, for they will soon turn away disappointed if I do not begin my tale.

Until later, my friend.

Legolas