Rating: PG for a bit of violence

Warnings: Controversy between two different views of elves

Summary: Most of the Fellowship almost meet. Pre Quest

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns most of it (recognizable characters), I own a bit of it (the plot), and all that folklore owns some too (all that folklore stuff).

Chapter 1

The song drifted across the grass, enticing, entreating, someone, anyone, to come. But no one came. Too many frightful tales had been told of this place, enough to even stop the bravest warriors from coming, not that there were many left. Most folk doubted there were any. In fact, there were some, but they were busy romping around killing various evil things. So, the song and the singer were lonely, in this lonely land.

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"Peregrin Took!" came the voice ringing across the meadow. "You come back here or I'll – " The voice abruptly stopped as the hobbit in question turned around and tackled him. He immediately started tickling him. Laughter rang out across the open grass.

"You'll what, Merry?" Pippin said, straddling the other hobbit. "Hmm?"

Merry wriggled out from under Pippin and got up, hands on hips. "You evil little hobbit! You can't just leave like that!"

"Yes I can! I did, didn't I?"

"You shouldn't! I had to clean all those dishes, and from the amount you eat, I'm surprised I'm done!"

"Oliphaunt ears and autumn skullcaps! Merry, I'm sorry, but – "

"But nothing! Either at supper you do all of them and most of them next dinner, or we go on that walk!"

"Why do you want to go on that walk?"

"I just do!"

"And at night too – are you all right?"

"Yes! I just want to go on a night walk – "

" – and you don't want to do it alone."

"I'll do it alone, I just want you to come."

"No, you're scared."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Spider!"

"Orc!"

"Warg!"

Having exhausted their slim repertoire of evil creatures, Pippin scramble about for another insult. "Um, um, um, oh, poisonous puffballs! Merry, you're scared, and you know it!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Fine!" Merry yelled. "Fine! I'll go alone, that'll show you I'm not scared!"

"Fine!" Pippin turned around, decided he didn't want to go that way, turned around again, and stomped off.

"Oh, by the way, you have to do the dishes today and tomorrow then."

But Pippin was already gone.

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Gimli son of Gloin sighed. His father had taken him along to meet this hobbit, who no doubt was great burglar and everything – they just happened to talk about the most boring stuff together. He had politely as possible excused himself and was now lounging outside the hobbit's door, fingering his axe. All the hobbits were so happy and carefree, unlike a few other folk he had seen or heard of. Like the elves, and the rangers, and people like that. And he couldn't say his people were carefree – the mark of the dragon still remained, though it had been years. And there were reports of returning orcs in the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood.

He shifted around and sighed again. The sun would soon set, and his father and Baggins were still at it. Baggins had come out several times and asked if the dwarf would like any food, but Gimli had declined. Maybe he would go for a walk in a while, if they were still talking, just for a change.

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Estel the adopted son of Lord Elrond paused. Mithrandir had asked him to check up on the hobbit that he suspected had an item of terrible power. He had obliged, but now he wasn't sure which one Mithrandir was talking about. There were so many – and they were so carefree, getting into arguments about petty things.

That was the mark of happy people, who didn't have bigger things to argue about. Like deciding whether they should attack a certain person they believed to be a dark lord, or whether they should put additional troops here or there. In that he pitied Legolas, one of his best friends, who unfortunately was getting less and less time to spend with him because of the increasing attacks on the elven realm in Mirkwood, despite the fact that the Necromancer was gone. Legolas had to attend court quite often as the new Crown Prince of Mirkwood, or Eryn Galen, as the elves that lived there persisted in calling it. He secretly felt that that was a little bit – well, it was like they were clinging to the memory of Greenwood. But of course that was what he probably would do if his home were being steadily corrupted.

He continued scanning the bright green meadows of the Shire, noticing two hobbits talking to each other. He carefully moved closer, striving to hear them.

"Yes! I just want to go on a night walk – "

Mithrandir had said that this hobbit might be a bit more adventurous than the rest. Maybe he had found him. He carefully memorized the details of the face from what he could see, and decided to follow this hobbit at night, just out of curiosity.

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The small party of wood-elves stopped for the night, in a little forest outside of the lands of the perian. Every elf was silent and pensive, especially one golden haired archer.

Legolas leaned against a tree and thought about the events leading up to – this. His naneth had decided to sail across the Sea; there wasn't really any doubt she would not have.

Gilnar had been the pride of her life, her firstborn child and Legolas' older brother. He had been killed in the Battle of the Five Armies, and the whole family had mourned, but none so much as his mother, sweet Linelaew. But that was not the only loss that his mother had taken.

Next came her brother, along with her father, in a raid by orcs. Her mother had escaped the raid, only to be caught in a landslide in the Mountains of Mirkwood. Linelaew had not taken this well, but she would have stayed, would have survived, would have still kept faith in a rapidly failing land and race. But then she lost her voice.

Elves do not get sick naturally, and this was obviously not a natural sickness. It had come suddenly, a racking cough that had kept her up all night. Mirkwood's – Eryn Galen's, Legolas stubbornly told himself, though he knew it wasn' t true, not anymore – healers could do nothing about it. They had sent for Lord Elrond, and he had ridden as fast as he could, but then he had found that the mountain passes were blocked. He had tried to come – Elrond was as stubborn as Thranduil, making their relationship somewhat strained – but had had to turn back.

A few weeks after she first contracted the sickness, Linelaew lost her voice. It had been beautiful; it had been a way for her to hold the grief back. By singing she could forget everything else.

And now she couldn't. So she had, while slowly fading, decided to sail. The whole family – which was soon to be just Legolas, ten-year-old Celebglin, and their father and King of the Mirkwood Realm, Thranduil, were not quite shocked – it was as if they were expecting it but they couldn't quite get used to the fact that she was indeed sailing to The Blessed Land.

Legolas and several of the finest warriors in Mirkwood were accompanying her. Thranduil had wanted to go, but Legolas had pointed out that he would only serve as a target to the orcs whose numbers were steadily approaching and surpassing what they had been before the Five Armies, and Linelaew agreed and told them that as well as she could. They could not send many guards either, for they needed troops to guard the realm. Thranduil had pointed out that Legolas would be a target as well, and Legolas had pointed out that he would not be as big of a target. Thranduil had pointed out that he was important enough, and Legolas had pointed out that Linelaew needed someone in her family to accompany her and that Celebglin was too young. Thranduil had reluctantly conceded on that point, and so Legolas had gone.

Legolas decided he needed some time alone, and slipped out of the camp to walk under the stars.

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Linelaew – singing star bird

Gilnar – echo of fire

Celebglin silver gleam