Disclaimer: I'm female, so no.


The blistering winter wind whistled through bare branches, carrying freezing snow in its currents. The frost clung to Legolas, sticking to his thin cloak and catching on his long hair. The snowstorm did not bother him in the slightest, but the same could not be said of his companions.

The Fellowship of the Ring was not entirely composed of elves, much to said Fellowship's misfortune. Aside from the Prince, who walked lightly on top, the group plowed laboriously through masses of snow, huddled in their heavy cloaks. The hobbits and Gimli especially were having trouble inching forward. The periannath took turns being carried by the Men, but the dwarf's pride would not allow such a slight and he stumbled on stubbornly. Legolas, from his delicate place above the snow drifts, could not help but feel sorry for them (even Gimli). He had never felt real cold in his many years on Arda, but he had seen mortals perish from it. Death by cold, he realized, was a very real possibility for his companions. Frodo's lips were beginning to turn blue, and all of the hobbits shivered violently as they trailed behind the taller members. Though they were strong, Aragorn and Boromir were beginning to waver.

He was not freezing to death or trying to force his way through snow, but Legolas's strength was waning also. He often acted as the Fellowship's guide, thanks to his superior senses, so he was forced to be constantly awake and aware. As a being who did not need regular sleep, Legolas also frequently took a whole night's watch. Though he would not admit it to himself, the elf's lack of rest was taking its toll. He had not spoken for the entire day, not even to Estel or Mithrandir; he had been too focused on trying not to slip away from reality.

Legolas had known Estel since he was a small child, and they could read each other with just a glance. If Aragorn had noticed his silence, he had not said anything yet.

The Fellowship trudged on for hours, the air filled with heavy breathing and occasional whispers from the hobbits. Climbing Caradhras was most taxing on them- their bodies were not made for such hard journeys.

"Mithrandir," Aragorn finally said in the late afternoon. "Please, we must stop for today. The hobbits will not be able to go on any longer."

The wizard looked back at the hobbits with pity in his eyes, but Legolas could see that he would not give up so easily. "Aragorn, we need to get as far as we can. If we linger, we could be spotted. Saruman's eyes are everywhere."

"Please, Gandalf," he pleaded. "Look at the hobbits."

Glancing back again, Mithrandir finally seemed to give in. "I suppose we must," he muttered.

Gandalf waved the Fellowship to a halt at the next relatively sheltered landing. "We will rest here for tonight, and get an early start tomorrow morning," he decided. The entire Fellowship, Legolas included, sighed in relief. Immediately, Aragorn went to check on the hobbits. Their teeth were chattering loudly and they had turned worryingly pale.

Supper was a weary and subdued affair. Unable to light a fire, all the Fellowship could eat was dried meat and cold, hard bread (or, in Legolas's case, a small bite of lembas). Afterwards, they huddled together, simultaneously planning their next move and trying to retain body heat.

On the outer edge of the circle, arms encircling the hobbits to keep them warm, Legolas wasn't directly involved in Aragorn and Gandalf's discussion. They were debating on what to do next. Aragorn thought it would be wiser to give up and climb back down the mountain, but Gandalf was determined to press on, arguing that they were almost halfway there. Legolas could not bring himself to care, and let his mind wander away from the present. Soon enough, Legolas's eyes fogged over and he found himself on the path of Elvish dreams.

"Legolas…"

"Legolas."

"Legolas! Gwador!"

With a light slap on the cheek, Legolas was jerked out of sleep and came face-to-face with a worried-looking Aragorn. "Legolas," he said, "we will be sleeping soon. I set up your mat over there." He pointed to a spot next to the hobbits.

"Hannon le," Legolas muttered, still trying to shake off his drowsiness. "Who will take first watch?"

"I will take half the night, and Boromir will take the other," said Aragorn.

No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Legolas could see that Aragorn was exhausted. The rest of the Fellowship might have been fooled by his mask, but after so many years, Legolas was not.

"Estel, I will do it. You are in no condition to take any watches."

"And neither are you," he retaliated. "You have not had a single night's rest since we left Imladris."

"I am an Elf-"

"Elves are immortal, not immune," Estel interrupted. "Your senses will be needed greatly, mellon-nin, and your mind must be sharp. Rest."

"I will be fine," Legolas said obstinately. "I have gone without rest for weeks at a time, Estel. I can handle a few days."

"Legolas," Aragorn pleaded. "I cannot bear to see you like this. Please, gwador-nin, go to sleep. Saes."

Legolas went to argue again, but as he opened his mouth, he saw the genuine concern his friend had for him. From long nights in the healing wards of Imladris, Legolas knew that Estel hated to see him suffer, even it was from lack of sleep and not from a life-threatening wound. Unwilling to cause Estel pain, Legolas relented.

"Very well," he sighed reluctantly. "For your happiness."

As he stood up and made his way to his mat, Aragorn followed. For the first time in many days, Legolas laid down and allowed himself to relax. Aragorn sat by his head and began his watch, easing the elf to sleep with his very presence.

As Legolas prepared to enter his dreams, he saw Aragorn's lips curl into a contented smile. For once, Legolas was glad he'd agreed to sleep.


A/N: So... did you like it? (this may or may not be my first fanfic and I may or may not be a little bit scared). Hopefully I didn't butcher the characters or the Elvish too badly. Don't forget to tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is welcome.