A/N: O.K, I'm obsessed with Elves. Paricularly Legolas, Haldir and Celeborn. But for all you other elf-maniacs out there... hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Well, all I can say is that if Tolkien wrote fanfic, I'm sure he'd be able to think up a better pen-name than "HoVis".

Legolas smiled contentedly as he swung from branch and bough, completely at home among the leaves of Lorien. "Mae Govann, Legolas!" A voice called from beneath him, and he glanced down to see Haldir, March Warden of Lorien and one of his oldest friend's, standing at the base of the tree he was in. "Mae Govann, Haldir!" He replied cheerfully, as he lightly dropped to the forest floor. "What brings you here? I thought you were on duty?" Legolas chided his friend slightly mockingly. "I am. I was sent to find you. The Lord wishes to speak with you." Haldir delivered his message with the same air he did anything - with confidence and an incredibly annoying smugness which his friends, rather than allowing it to annoy them, simply took it as one of his more... endearing features. Legolas eyes widened with shock at this news. True, he was an elf, and a member of the fellowship, but why the Lord Celeborn would wish to speak to him, alone, was beyond him. "Very well. Lead on then!" Though mystified, he faced this confusion with the same way he faced much of his life - with a cheerful heart and a ready smile. * Celeborn rose, in greeting, as Legolas reached the top of the ladder leading to the royal flet. He wore his customary gown of simple grey fabric, yet still managed to look regal and wise, as was becoming of his age and experience. "Legolas. It is good to meet you at last, son of Thranduil." He smiled at the much younger wood elf, trying to put off the moment he would have to break his terrible news to the young archer. "Lord Celeborn." Legolas replied simply, deciding not to voice his confusion as to why he had been called before the Lord, hopeful that it would all be explained with time. "Please, sit down." Celeborn politely indicated the chair to his right. Legolas nodded, but was unable to hold back his curiosity any longer. "Lord Celeborn... why have you called me here?" Celeborn's sighed slightly - he had hoped he would be able to get to know the young Mirkwood elf before they had to move onto... graver matters. "It is about your father, King Thranduil." Legolas looked Celeborn in the eye, an unhappy suspicion already forming in his mind. "What?" he managed to force out, his heart quickening slightly. "He is dead." Celeborn said simply, unable to think of any words which could soften the blow, or ease Legolas' surely terrible pain. "How?" Legolas' voice was small, and frightened. "Orcs attacked Mirkwood five days ago. Your father led the force which tried to repel them... they succeeded, but Thranduil was badly injured. He died the day after the attack." Legolas' looked lost, like a young child who's found himself in a world far to big and frightening for him. "And what has become of... of my people?" Celeborn knew what Legolas meant - he was taking the burden of the rule of Mirkwood upon himself voluntarily, rather than even attempting to fight in vain against his destiny. "The band of soldiers managed to repel the forces of Mordor, but many died. There are few soldiers left now to defend the borders of the city. If they are attacked again, those unable to fight will be at the mercy of Sauron." "And that is hardly a happy thought." Legolas sighed, hardly believing that only an hour ago he had been roaming the treetops, happy without a care in the world. "I've got to return, haven't I? I've got to take the throne?" Legolas asked rhetorically, seeking comfort from one who knew too well the pressures of ruling a kingdom. "I know it is difficult, Legolas. But for all the hardships... it is rewarding. More so than you can ever imagine." Celeborn said honestly, but Legolas simply turned away, his golden hair hiding his face and eyes. "How do you know of my father's death, anyway? Mirkwood is five hundred leagues from here." The younger elf asked eventually, as the silence became too much for him. "Messengers, obviously. They knew that you would probably be coming this way. Also... they sent this." Celeborn brought something out from his robes, and handed it to Legolas. "My father's crown." Legolas' voice was dripping with bitterness. It was a simple gold band, with three leaves, one silver, one gold, and one mithril, all inset with semi-precious green stone at the front. Legolas stared at it for a full minute, and Celeborn allowed him this time, knowing full well how daunting the burden of leadership could be when first faced with it. "Well, there seems little point putting off the inevitable." Legolas sighed, and slowly, hesitantly, lifted the crown to his head. Closing his eyes as though steeling himself, he placed it on his head, breathing heavily as he did so. "I've done the right thing, haven't I?" Legolas begged for reassurance as he opened his eyes. "Yes. Now comes the harder part - carrying out that which you just swore to do, to leave the fellowship and to protect your people." "I know." Legolas murmured, deep in thought. "I know." *