Summery:Pippin has done something, Legolas is blamed. What happens? You'll just have to read my first short story.

Disclaimer:I Never owned the characters, I never can own them so why do I need to make a disclaimer? Oh yeah, coz it's da law.

~I AM NO ELF~

It seems like a funny thing, to know that you have done everything to prevent something horrific from happening, and yet still feel guilty for it when it happens anyway. You never did anything to start it either, so why the guilt? Why the overwhelming hurt that mixes in with the grief you are feeling? Oh yes, you yelled at him, you told him it was all his fault, and had too much pride to take it back. You nearly killed him.

Legolas stared blankly out of the window, just about eye level with the tops of some of the trees surrounding the talan. Behind him, warmly secure beneath a mountain of feather-down blankets lay a sound asleep hobbit, his little curly head just poking out and his face caked with dried tears. Another one sat by him, holding the small hand that lay above the coverlet with a possessiveness that scared everyone who came near him.

Legolas knew about that little hand, it was the one that held the knife that nearly ended his young life; the other, even though unseen, was a frightening reminder of what could of happened had the dwarf not stopped him. He would carry the scar for the remainder of his years, if he lived that long.

The elf couldn't feel anything, his guilt and grief had swallowed up anything else and now, not even the Lady herself could get through to him. He had shut himself off, he was not worthy. As he stared out over the city of Caras Galadhon his thoughts returned ever to the times he had unconsciously blamed poor Pippin for Mithrandir's fall.

***"Pippin, get up!" he snapped, literally dragging the sobbing hobbit from his prostrate position on the stony ground. "Estel says we cannot linger, the crying must wait until we are far from the mountain. We don't want the orcs to catch us after what has already been sacrificed." Legolas made a movement that was just short of pushing the young hobbit into his older cousin, it made him stumble but the elf ignored it and stalked away, ignorant of whatever damage he may have inflicted on his mind.

Merry looked on in slight shock, hugging the shaking form of Pippin close to him. "Legolas, you needn't be so hard on him, it is not his fault after all."

The elf swivelled around on his heel, grief and anger lighting his eyes with flame.

"Isn't it, dear Meriadoc? Isn't it?" He stormed off again, passing a mortified Aragorn and making it look as though he was merely surveying the area to check for anymore danger. He willed the tears of anger and grief from his eyes before turning back to the company and waving them on.

"It is ok! There is nothing out there!" He ignored the looks of shock directing at him for his treatment of Pippin and stormed off again, the same anger clouding his senses. He needed to blame something, he needed something physically to direct this awful feeling at, so he chose the hobbit, not realizing the mortal damage the treatment would do to him.***

There was a slight noise behind him and the elf jumped up, looking at the stirring hobbit with hope in his eyes; he hadn't woken up since he…since the healers had fixed him.

Large green eyes met deep blue and they shut again, tears welling up from the corners and spilling down the old rivulets made by countless others. Legolas felt his heart clench and he smiled, if a little unwillingly.

"Pippin, it is ok. I do not blame you, I never did. My own grief simply clouded any sense I had and I am eternally sorry for it. Please forgive me, I meant no harm."

The green depths opened once more, but ignored his hopeful look. Instead they moved over to Merry who squeezed his hand with reassurance.

"Pippin, it is great that you are awake. You had us all worried for a bit there." He smiled softly down at his friend. But when the elf moved to wipe some stray strands of hair from the little hobbit's brow, Merry stilled him with an icy cold glare.

"He doesn't need your pity now, elf." He spat, making Legolas step back from the bed in shock. "He needs the comfort and companionship of his REAL friends. Last time you gave him any attention, he did this." Merry pulled back the covers and revealed the injured arm, the bandage wound a fair way up, showing that the hobbit had known exactly what he was doing when he tried to take his own life.

Pippin looked down at it and wailed, gripping Merry's shirt with his good hand. The older hobbit hugged him to his breast, talking in soothing tones while at the same time throwing Legolas dagger looks to get out, now.

He walked backwards, his eyes ever on little Pippin and the guilt welling up until he thought his heart would burst with it, it hurt so much. He felt around for the latch that would open the door and found that it had already been opened; there was the familier creak and he turned around to come face to face with Boromir. Both stood in slight surprise before Legolas saw what he dreaded would come, the grey eyes hardened at him before the man swept past to check on Pippin.

"Ah, you are awake my fine little friend." He pointedly ignored the elf from then on and he slipped silently out the door, grief tearing him apart. They hated him, they all probably did and he had no one to blame but himself, what he did to Pippin was cruel, nothing could excuse that.

***The trees towered over the company of 8, making them crane their neck to try to see where they ended, if they did at all. Legolas was still in a stalking mood, he did little to hide his steps and his light boots made an obvious thumping noise wherever he went, everyone was wary of him, especially Merry.

"What are you looking at!" he snapped, making the hobbit quickly move back to his ministrations of comforting Pippin. The young one had become withdrawn and now stared blankly ahead, Merry's arm around his shoulders, soothing his internal hurt. How dare he, how dare he think that he must feel the grief harder than the rest of them, when he could have been the one to cause it. Legolas sneered a little as a single tear dropped from Pippin's eye, he felt as though he could hit him.

"Oh would you just stop it," he hissed, making sure only the little one could hear it. "Do you see anyone else crying? We got over it long ago; you should stop that snivelling and start growing up if you want to survive the next leg. Crying doesn't get anyone anywhere."

"Legolas." The elf started and looked away from the now trembling hobbit, straight into the concerned eyes of their leader.

"What is it Estel?" He sighed, wishing the Dúnadan would just leave him alone.

"What were you saying that makes Pippin so frightened?" Aragorn creased his eyes, trying to look deeper into the mind of the elf.

"I was simply…"

"You were simply blaming him for something he never did." The man finished for him and Legolas gaped in shock.

"I was not, I was just…he needs to be strong Aragorn." Legolas snapped with defiance. The rest of the group stopped and stared, and Merry moved Pippin away so he wouldn't have to listen.

"He needs the comfort of friends, Legolas. He feels more guilty than the rest of us and you know that." The man laid a firm hand on the bristling elf's shoulder, but removed it sharply when the elf spoke the following words.

"He should, Estel. He should feel it." He spun away and stalked off ahead, pointedly ignoring the sounds of indignation from the hobbits and the calls of Aragorn to come back.

He should feel guilty, he deserved it.***

Legolas relived the memories and the guilt became almost unbearable. How could he have even thought such things, it was not usually in his nature, or in any elf's for that matter. What had come over him?

He loped slowly down the spiralling stairs and watched with detached interest, the other elves of the wood going about their daily business and chores down below and on parallel flets. He didn't feel a part of that world anymore, like he thought he had been his entire life. If he were a true elf, he would never have let such dark things seep into his mind, poisoning all reason and clouding any bit of a conscience he might have.

He was no elf.

With that thought in mind, he made a resolve to set things right with his own feelings, and the others of his company. He would show them how wrong he was, about elves being strong in body, and in mind.

He was no elf.

Legolas sped up his decent and skipped the last few steps, leaping through the air and landing lightly on the crisscrossed paving beneath.

"Hello Legolas." The soft drawn out voice nearly made him leap out of his skin, and he turned and saw Haldir leaning against the huge tree he had just descended from, a strange smile on his lips.

"Hello Haldir." Legolas replied, frowning. He was curious as to why the Galadhrim elf should want to talk to him, of all people, when nearly everyone knew what he had done.

"I hear that the little one has awoken." Haldir straightened up and walked slowly towards him, the same fixed smile on his face.

"How did you…I have just come from there, how…?"

"News travels fast here, dear brethren. Or should I call you simply Lanter." Legolas hissed through his teeth, the name was an obvious endorsement of his exclusion; no one wanted him around anymore, no one. He was no one.

"Just remember Lanter," The smile had gone and was now replaced with a cold sneer, his eyes glittering dangerously and his face pushed right up against Legolas'. "You are being watched, you will always be watched. Your own guilt will keep you in its sight for eternity, even into the Halls of Mandos. You are no elf."

He then spat on the ground and ran lightly up the stairs to Pippin's room, leaving Legolas in the lurch.

Hadn't he already been saying that to himself? The Guard was merely reinforcing that fact, and Legolas could double it; he wasn't even good enough to live.

***Aragorn had tried to calm the fuming elf to a gentle simmer, and it had worked, for a time. Until Legolas had got it into his head that maybe climbing a tree could make it even better, and he grabbed hold of a low branch, pulling himself up until he could reach the next one.

His anger towards Pippin had died down, he had even murmured an apology once when they had stopped to camp and Frodo had told him about Pippin's tears. They hadn't stopped falling since he had overheard the accusing words of the elf when they had first entered the wood; it had brought the first different feeling he'd felt since Moria, guilt.

"The trees may be marvellous for a bird, but I doubt I can sleep on a perch tonight." Everyone but Legolas looked to Pippin in wonder, he hadn't spoken for ages and many were hoping this was because their companion elf had let up him. It was not to last.

"Then dig a hole in the ground," Legolas called and leaped lightly from the branch, landing directly in front of the hobbit. "If that is more after the fashion of your kind."

Everyone was staring at him in horror; he couldn't hear the icy tone his voice held, couldn't see his own fiery stare, couldn't feel the hate emanating from him, but they could. It wasn't meant to be so, he truly didn't mean for things to come out so wrong, but it was almost out of habit and the next words sealed both his own and Pippin's fate.

"But you must dig deep and swift, if you wish to hide from orcs." He sneered slightly. "I don't think they take too kindly to little ones." Oh it was not meant to be like that, and Legolas realized this the moment the words left his mouth. The only thing that stopped him from apologising then and there was his own stuck up pride. So he kept himself aloof and pulled himself back into the tree.

"Daro!"

He dropped back down, the fire gone from his eyes and genuine fear replacing it. The people that spoke those words were deadly if taken wrong.

"Do not move or speak." He hissed at the others. They hesitated, obviously not trusting him as much anymore, and he could see why.

Pippin hadn't broken down into tears like he had every other time Legolas had snapped at him, his fragile emotional state had ensured that. But now, he was simply vacant, staring straight ahead as though there was nothing else around him. It was scaring Merry so much that he hugged the younger one to himself hard, stuttering a question about elves and making Legolas even more icy than before.

Legolas was not making himself in very high esteem with anyone, especially with the elf that bid him to come up the rope ladder that had been let down. His voice was slightly betraying his own confusion as to why Legolas must be so testy, but he was silenced from asking the reason when Frodo popped his head up through the hole in the flet, Sam coming slowly behind.

The damage was done. All there was now, was time.***

Legolas felt his heart go cold as he watched Haldir disappear above him, he had spoken the truth, and his heart ripped in two. He gasped as the real pain flooded his body, the guilt, the grief, the self-hatred was becoming too much to bear. Lanter: Old One. That was all he was now. Old, nothing else, not an elf, not immortal, just plain old. It had to end.

Legolas ran now, not the light springy run that all elves shared, but a hard stumbling one that totally betrayed every feeling he felt at that moment. He tripped a little and a female elf caught him, dropping her basket of herbs as she did. But when she tried to get him to talk to her he pulled out of her grip, tears coursing down his face as wave after wave of fresh guilt washed over him with every new memory; him yelling at Pippin, pushing him, blaming him, letting him feel as though everything was his fault. It was becoming more horrific by the second, he knew that the hobbit would never be the same, he would always remember this and that little spark that made him Pippin, would be almost extinguished, forever.

He ran swifter now; things were becoming blurred in his vision, but becoming clear in his mind, he needed to do this. He was no elf; so he had to make it true, make it final and just. It was the only way.

The trees gave way and suddenly he found himself next to a lake, smooth and glasslike it reflected his distorted and tortured image back at him as he looked into it's mirror surface.

***"Legolas! Have you seen Pippin?

"No, I thought he was with Merry."

"Damn you Legolas, he's run off. We need to find him now!"

"But…I…"

"Merry isn't his keeper, he never needed one before anyway. Now he's probably gone and…"***

He saw the mirror distort a little and noticed something in the reflection. He looked up and spied the tall cliff that hung over the lake, the waterfall cascading down from it at the far end doing little to change the perfect images it portrayed in front of him. But it needed to change, his reflection was no longer what he was anymore. He was no elf.

Legolas ran again, this time around the lake till he came to the first rocks that led up to the top of the cliff, he didn't even slow down. Gripping the sharps rocks with his bare hands, he hoisted himself up, ignoring the scrapes and bruises he was getting from the climb. Suddenly he slipped and slid a short was back down, crying out in pain as the rocks shredded his clothes and skin, leaving rivulets of bloods coursing over his body and face.

*** "Gimli! What happened?"

"What do you think elf?"

"But his hand, his wrist…why…?"

"He tried to kill himself ok Legolas! Does that satisfy you? That he slit his wrist and did a pretty good job of it mind you!"

"It does not satisfy me. Why do you say such things?"

"Oh! So all these last few days of consistently hurting him…not physically, but emotionally, you never did it on deliberate!?"

"I never meant…"

"Whatever, master elf. It makes no difference now, if he dies, it is still your fault. Now get out of my way!"***

Legolas pulled himself up onto the ledge, sweat running into the wounds all over his body and making fresh pain sear through him. He deserved it, every bit of pain that he felt now, he deserved it all for what he had done to the little one.

The waterfall ran next to him, rushing over smoothed down stones to cascade down the impossibly high cliff for such a place as Lothlórien; at least 200 feet it seemed. The rocks he was standing on were slippery with moss and slime and he squatted down, not wishing to fall.

He gazed around, many trees were still too high to see over, but there were others that seemed to create another solid green floor in the sky, and he looked down on them now, smiling a little through the hurt that coursed through him. He was totally alone.

Then, whipping out a small knife from his belt, he held it to the light of the midday sun, it's shining steel edge glinting gracefully as he brought it back to his lap. Did he really want to do this? Did he really want to make things right? Yes, for Pippin, for them all. He was no elf.

He held the knife behind his ear, to one watching they might have thought he was going to slit his own throat in despair. But that was a coward's way out; this was to ensure it would be right.

His scream echoed for many miles around and he leaned over the running water in disbelief, the pain was something he had never felt before and he breathed heavily as he watched the blood drip down to be washed away by the falls. One down, one to go.

The pointed tip of his right ear was now missing as he staunched the bleeding wound with a torn strip from his own tunic, it felt strange and yet satisfying at the same time.

He took a deep breath, the next one would be harder and he stood up, steadying himself so he would not fall; the edge was decidedly near.

But as he held the knife to the other ear a scream cut through the air.

"Legolas, NO!!"

Aragorn? He spun around to see the man scrambling up the sharp rocks, trying to get to him.

"Legolas don't do it please!!" He called out again and the knife dropped from the elf's hand, he was stunned that there was one who still cared for him in some way. "Do let go, not like Pippin!"

Legolas was shocked, the man thought he was going to end his own life, like the little one had nearly done, because of him.

"Aragorn! I was not, I was just…" He was going to say that he was no longer an elf, and because of that, he must look the part of a mortal, but something stopped the words from coming. He stepped forward but misjudged his footing and slipped, the slime coating his hands and shoes as he hit the ground heavily, all breath being knocked out of him.

"LEGOLAS!" The scream cut through his mind and the elf was slightly confused as to why Aragorn was panicking so, then there was naught but air about him and he knew why. Flailing wildly he gripped the slippery edge of the cliff with his fingertips and held on for all he was worth. His feet dangled over nothing and he tried desperately to get a grip with his other hand, but was unable to as he felt his grasp onto life failing.

"Aragorn?" he whispered as his fingers slipped and he started to fall. The strong hand of his friend suddenly came over the edge and grabbed his own, holding it in the tightest grip possible. Aragorn's face appeared and the elf smiled sadly, he really did care.

"Give me your other hand." The man grunted and reached for the hand that would make sure the elf would be saved. But nature had other plans and as Legolas' arm rose to grasp Aragorn's, the slime and moss that had coated his hands before made both their grips fail, and he was falling once more.

For a moment in time, their eyes met, elf and man in a moment of understanding and a glimmer of truth shone through for both of them. The man saw that the elf truly had never intended to say anything to harm the little hobbit; the dark powers had merely had their way with him in untold measures.

The elf saw that the man had never hated him, neither had anyone else, if there was anyone to blame, it would be the Dark Lord himself.

Legolas watched the world pass in slow motion, his eyes were ever locked on Aragorn's even as it became harder to see as the distance increased and he fell. It seemed to be such a long way and it was only when he heard a slap, then crack as he felt his back breaking, then splash as he felt himself being sucked under the freezing waters of the lake that he knew it was all over. He continued to look up, trying to spot the man through the ripples that closed over his head as he sank. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he was paralysed and it almost gave him a sense of peace as he sank deeper, and deeper.

He never drowned, merely fell asleep and had a dream. In that dream he had a choice, whether to go to be with his forefathers, his mother and other long gone members of his family, or try to do it again, do it right this time. He would have to start from the beginning, it would all have to happen again and it would be even harder if he knew that certain things could never be changed, no matter how much he wanted them to.

In the dream he thought for a while, the image of little Pippin's cheery face popped up and his made his choice. Choosing to do it all again, to do it the right way.

* * * *

"Pippin, get up." The elf's soothing voice broke through his barrier of grief and he opened his green eyes to see two kind deep blue ones staring back at him. They seemed to hold so much wisdom and power in them that he wondered if Legolas was maybe older than even Elrond.

"That's right, it wasn't your fault. It never was, you must never let yourself feel that it was." Pippin blinked, how did he know what he was thinking? The wise old eyes smiled back at him and he felt himself being taken into a deep and comforting hug.

"I will never let it happen to you again little one, or I will be no elf."

"Huh?" He pulled away a bit and looked at the elf kneeling before him with confusion. Legolas smiled and laughed softly.

"Never mind, I was merely speaking my thoughts out loud." He pulled the hobbit into another hug, and if one saw his face then, they would have noticed a sad but grateful tear drop from his eye and him mouthing one word.

'Thankyou'.

END

A/N: Now I know there are many Pippin suicide stories out there. What causes them though?

Please review, I'll be most grateful as I would love to get as many reviews as is possible. Hee hee. Muses are very happy