Author's Note: Well, I encountered some writer's block with A New Dawn and I watched the Fellowship to try and motivate me. Honestly, it didn't work, but I did decide to write what Legolas thought when Gandalf fell, which I had wondered about the first time that I saw the Fellowship a year ago. Well, hope ya like it!

Oh, and just in case you don't know, Gandalf's elvish name is Mithrandir.

Gandalf's Fate

How can it be that a person of such power could simply be beaten by a foe? I know that Mithrandir has been around since Illuvatar first began the song that created Arda…that created Middle-earth. It seems impossible that a person of such age and wisdom could ever be defeated.

I glance back at the entrance to Moria. That was where he fell, finally beaten by a Balrog, the spawn of Morgoth.

I can no longer bear to look at the mines. My gaze falls to the ground before me as I blink back tears. No, I cannot give in to the urge to grieve. For the Hobbits to see one they view as a calm, in-control, and, perhaps, ethereal elf break down would do no good at all. We have to move on.

I make no move to do anything, however. I am, as far as I can tell, in shock. My mind is numb and overwhelmed by grief, though somewhere in back is the rational part of myself that urges me to push my grief back.

"Legolas, get them up."

I nod at Aragorn's words and pull myself back from the grief that is still threatening to overwhelm me. I turn to Merry and Pippin, since they are the hobbits that are grieving closest to me.

I begin to bend down to pull the two of them to their feet.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"

I straightened at Boromir's words, looking toward Aragorn, knowing that he would be the one to respond. I half hoped that he would let them grieve for a few minutes, for I can feel the grief radiating from them as clearly as I feel my own.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlorien."

I look to where Aragorn pointed. Sure enough, Lorien glistens like a diamond, it's deep green leaves swaying in a gentle breeze. A soft smile must have crossed my lips at this, for Pippin spoke.

"What is it about this place that makes you smile, Legolas?"

I look down at him with an encouraging half-smile on my face, but with grief still evident in my eyes.

"Lorien is a fair forest. When I was a young elfling, my father would often tell me stories of the beauty of fair Lothlorien."

Pippin smiled at my words, and the smile was genuine, momentarily blocking the grief on the Hobbit's youthful face.

Yes, they would move on. They would prove that neither Gandalf's death nor this quest would be in vain.

I reached down, offering my hand first to Pippin, then Merry. Then we left the eastern door to Moria. The Golden Wood, and the peace that we would find there, was waiting.

Well, it's only a page, but it looks a lot longer when you write it out in your History notebook when you are supposed to be working. Well, please review! Constructive Criticism and Flames are fine with me!