"But where THE PATH WE WALKED BEGAN
To slant the fifth autumnal slope,
As we descended following Hope,
There sat the Shadow feared of man"
--Alfred Tennyson

Frodo was paralyzed. He hadn't moved a muscle since Legolas had told him of Sam's unfortunate condition. The elf didn't know how to handle this, and he didn't think he had the capacity to reach out to ascertain Frodo's emotions. He was drained and still in pain, and as was Sam, he gathered. How could he comfort the hobbit with that knowledge? He remained silent and continued to paddle. He had just a few more strokes until they reached the shore. He decided it was best to let Frodo break the silence when he felt ready. Now, he thought, looking forward, he needed to prepare himself. As soon as they reached the shore, they would be trailed and hunted by the hordes of Saruman's Uruk-kai, as well as the beasts of Mordor. He was now Frodo's guide and sole protector, and that was not a duty he could take lightly. He couldn't, one misstep or lapse in judgment and death was certain. Death for all. The Dark Lord would make all of Middle Earth his dominion and tens of thousands of innocent people, women and children included, would be brutally tortured, raped, slaughtered, and enslaved.

The territories of his remaining people would be overthrown and his people mutilated into creatures that were repelling and unnatural. He thought of his people, his father, his brothers and sister. His heart ached with the thoughts of his family. He missed them terribly. He had been separated from them before, and for longer expanses of time, but at the prospect of the danger ahead and possibly never seeing them again...and with the onus of Middle Earth's fate in the hands of himself and that of a small, unassuming, courageous young hobbit, he couldn't help but feel the gravity of his situation. This was the moment of fate, intervening and placing him as a vanguard of history and at the forefront of the future. He did not know what the future would bring, but he knew he would have to ready himself. He would have to be at his strongest and sharpest. There was no margin for error. Still a young elf by elven standards, Legolas felt wildly ill prepared for this current journey, but looking over at the little being in front of him in the small boat, the small hunched shoulders bearing so great a responsibility it was almost incomprehensible, he felt a great flood of respect and humility. He was nearly four millennia old, while Frodo barely had more than a half of a century of life experience. Legolas knew, as a prince, and with so many years of experience, he would have to place behind him any inkling of self-doubt. He would need to be Frodo's rock, loyal confidant, trusted advisor, and consummate protector. This was his purpose. This was his mission.

Dusk was falling as Legolas emerged out of his reflections and their boat touched ashore. He wanted to suspend waking the now sleeping hobbit as long as possible.

Legolas eased the boat upon the sand and gathered the minimal belongings that they had managed to carry with them. After this, he deemed it prudent to set up camp and find food for the emotionally and physically drained ring-bearer. After finding a sufficient cave not too far from their landing, Legolas softly treaded over to the comatose hobbit.

He lowered down to his knees in front of his companion and looked him over. His curly black hair was disheveled and held several dead leaves. His starkly pale skin contrasted deeply with the black shadows under the hobbits large eyes, eyes that were hidden by lids yet seemed nonetheless in frantic motion, obviously seeing frightening images in a dreamscape. Frodo was having a nightmare, no doubt caused by the ring hovering over the hobbit's beating heart. Breath was being released unevenly from the hobbit's nostrils. His small frame was shaking, shivering from the chill that had overtaken the day's sunlight and had been especially present on the surface of the river. Legolas thought it better to allow the hobbit to sleep and try to transfer him to their impromptu shelter as discreetly as possible. The little one was so tired, so worn and cold. Gently, Legolas hoisted the dangerously thin hobbit over his shoulder and lightly treaded the terrain leading to the shelter. The hobbit was still deeply asleep. Finally reaching the shelter, Legolas carefully laid down his charge on the previously prepared bedroll. He couldn't attest for it's comfort, but it was better than sleeping upright in a floating boat. With the care of a father, Legolas draped and secured their only blanket over the tiny frame and sat beside his friend. Softly, he placed his hand upon the curly head and fingered the soft dark curls, brushing them off the hobbit's crown. So much pressure on one so innocent and good. So much evil hunting him and preparing torturous ways to punish him. Tears alighted the elf's bright eyes and errantly dropped on the forehead of the sleeping Frodo.

This awoke the hobbit.

"Legolas? What...What happened, where are we?" Frodo was confused, urgently trying regain consciousness.

"Shhh, Sh, little one, you are safe. We have landed on the shore and I have prepared for us a shelter. We will stay as long as you need be to regain your strength. I thought you might appreciate a cave more than a tree branch, as you know is my preference"

The hobbit relaxed and gained cognizance enough to question his friend.

"Legolas, how are you feeling?" This was not a light inquiry, dread laced the soft voice of the questioning Frodo.

"Honestly, better. The burning has eased and now I just feel a slight chill. I believe there is hope yet for our brave Samwise."

"Thank you, Legolas. I am sorry for harassing you earlier."

"There is nothing to apologize for. I would endure that and more for this quest…and my friends. You have all grown quite dear to me. More so than I could have ever imagined. I hope you pardon my accompaniment on the journey ahead. I know you wished to proceed alone..." the hobbit was silent, his eyes resting on the hard ground.

"I fear our companions have been waylaid and led towards a path divergent from ours. They will not cross paths with us to 'till the very end." The elf changed the subject.

"We are alone, Legolas?" Frodo asked gravely after several long minutes of deep silence.

"Yes, quite, and let us hope it stays that way. I believe we have had quite enough excitement for a lifetime, even an elven one. And there is much toil ahead, a break would be encouraging, so--"

--"Legolas?" Frodo interrupted.

"I am glad you are here. In fact, I may have had the intention to continue on my own, but I did not wish it. I'm afraid I may have forced you to come instead of allowing you to choose. I'm sorry, Legolas. You do not have to continue with me if you don't want to. I know you have obligations as a prince to your people. Or if you would like to return to Aragorn, I know you two are close."

"As brothers. But Frodo, he does not need me as you do. I'm afraid you are not going to lose me just yet. I pledged my self to you and this quest, ring bearer. I intend to see it through…and I intend to make sure you live to see your home again, Frodo."

"Amin naa tualle, my young friend," the elf added quietly.

"Do you have any lingering effects because of your condition? Do you require rest? I could stand watch for the remainder of the night."

"Nay, that will not be necessary, I am fully recovered, thankfully."

"By all means, Quel esta. We have a long and treacherous journey in front of us. You need more rest than I and I would feel more secure with my senses on alert. The enemy is in our midst."

Frodo shivered at this last statement, unconsciously reaching for the golden band around his neck.

"Uuma dela, tonight you are safe. Lay back, I will watch over you till morning. Then we will confront the task in our charge. For now, may you dream of peace and the stars and your beloved Shire which you will one day see again.

The small hobbit smiled drowsily and then shuddered as sleep easily overtook him once again.

Legolas sighed gravely, murmuring into the crisp air: "Amin khiluva lle a' gurtha ar' thar, mellon nin."

(I will follow you to death and beyond, my friend") –roughly trans