My dear Adar,

Legolas hesitated, unsure of how to phrase the inevitable confession. Common courtesy dictated that he let his father know about his proposed excursion, especially given the potentially deadly nature of the quest. He was, frankly, terrified of what his father would have to say about it.

I have informed Lord Elrond of the creature Gollum's escape, as my task demanded. I learned that this news is more evil than we had been led to believe, as the One Ring has once again appeared, and Sauron seeks to dominate all life through it. Many councils were held, and it was concluded that the only way to safeguard all of Arda against the might of Sauron is to destroy the evil which holds Sauron's life and his power - the Ring.

A Hobbit from the Shire, cousin to the esteemed Bilbo Baggins, has volunteered to take the Ring to Mordor, where it may be destroyed once and for all. With him go his cousins, two brave young Hobbits, and his gardener - a most charming Hobbit whose determination to see to his friend's safety and health is admirable.

Mithrandir the Wizard plans to lend his aid and protection to the Ringbearer, as do a small number of representatives from each free race. A Man of Gondor, Boromir, son of the Steward Denethor, is travelling back to Minas Tirith and will protect the hobbits until they reach Gondor and perhaps further. A Ranger of the North, Aragorn, also travels to Gondor and will protect the Hobbits.

The Dwarvish representative is a fierce Dwarf named Gimli, the son of Gloin whom ventured into Mirkwood sixty years ago. He is very fond of the Hobbits and will protect them well.

I have volunteered my aid as a representative of the Elves. I believe that I will be of more help to the Ringbearer than I would be to you at home, defending your Kingdom. This I say because the other Elves willing to travel with Frodo are old, tired, hopeless beings who have fought Darkness for time uncounted, but yearn for a happier time they once knew, while they have been changed irrefutably by war. I believe that were one of these Elves from Imladris to attempt the Quest, the way may become too dark for him to see any hope of overcoming this evil.

I, on the other hand, have never known a life protected from the Dark. I have fought the nameless creatures since the day I first learnt to wield a knife, and all the happiness I have ever known has been tainted by the fear of tomorrow, so I do not lose hope as easily as might an older Elf who remembers true safety.

I am much like any number of young Elves raised in Mirkwood. I do not believe that I am indispensable to the defence of our home.

I am sorry Adar, I know that you will not wish me to take on the responsibility of this Quest, but I believe that I am the most able Elf to serve and protect all the peoples of Middle Earth by keeping Frodo safe.

I will return to you one day, but I cannot promise that this war will not change me. I am no longer the wide-eyed child who stabbed his first Spider, and when I come home I hope to be something more than a Woodland Elf. These may be my last words to you, if fortune does not smile upon us, and so I say to you now: I love you, Adar, and I love our home and our people. I go on this Quest not for myself, not for Aragorn, not for Frodo, not even for you, but for every one of the Free People who walk this good earth under threat of the Shadow.

Farewell, Adar.

Legolas of the Woodland Realm.

P.S. please tell Lothlomë, Gilloth, Melloth, Aldanna, Brethildíl, Brethilríl, Nímlos, Coirellach and especially Nana that I love them too. Enclosed are some leaves of athelas, a healing herb we do not find at home. Tell Nana to crush a leaf in a bowl of hot water, and breathe the fumes. It helps to fight the despair and darkness. She will know when to use it.

Placing his quill on the desk, Legolas heaved a sigh. He began the arduous task of checking and double-checking his Silvan writing, for the information contained in the letter was more than enough to doom them all, if it fell into the wrong hands.

All Elves and a good number of Men and even Dwarves knew Sindarin, and most Elves of Imladris and Lorien knew Quenya, while most Elves and Dwarves and nearly all other Free Folk besides spoke the Common Tongue, so Legolas penned his letter in the quaint language of the native wood-elves, a language spoken exclusively by residents of the Greenwood, and even then only the Silvan folk and some few of the Sindar (including the Royal family) spoke it fluently. Legolas was quite sure that even if the messenger was tortured and forced to read aloud he would only be able to make out names of people and perhaps places, for the messenger was an elf of Imladris.

Secure in the thought that his letter was both accurate and coded, Legolas sealed the parchment scroll with a few drops of wax, and set it aside to be delivered to the messengers leaving for Mirkwood and Erebor in the morning.

.

Two months later, Legolas sat outside the shut West-Door to the Mines of Moria. Black Pit, he thought, is a fitting name for the place. No living Dwarf is inside, I'd wager, for if there were, we would have been greeted long ago.

Legolas remembered writing to his father about how he'd volunteered for this mission, believing himself more able to hope in the face of darkness. Now, the Dark was all too quickly becoming all too real. He had no wish to enter Moria, and was only too happy to volunteer to scout the other side of the mountain by crossing the Pass of Caradhras and meet the Fellowship on the other side. All he needed was a way to present the idea to Mithrandir and Aragorn.

Too soon for Legolas' liking, and unfortunately before he'd come up with a way to word his idea, the doors were open, and the Watcher in the Water attacked Frodo, and then, before Legolas could comprehend it, he was in the dark, inside the tomb-like Mines, and all light from outside was cut off by the cascade of falling rock blocking the space where the open door had stood moments earlier.

That was when Legolas clung to Hope, and if that hope was more the Man who had once gone by that name than the promise of a happy ending, it was enough.

Almost.

.

Legolas could count. He'd never been particularly attentive during maths lessons, especially not when half of them had been interrupted by the charming tree growing just outside the window, but he did know when to avoid a losing battle. His tutor had once told him to never enter a battle he could avoid, unless he outnumbered the enemy three to one. Now, at Helm's Deep in the mountains bordering Rohan, he was part of a host of three hundred elderly men and young boys, waiting to be attacked by what could well be ten thousand Uruk-Hai.

Even Legolas at his coming of age hadn't been confident enough to take those chances.

They were outnumbered more than thirty to one, and one Uruk-Hai was likely more than enough to finish off each of these defenders.

As Legolas sat on the Deeping Wall, stewing over his fight with Aragorn, he realised something deep inside his heart: he hadn't lost hope. Not really, not yet.

After all, there was still a Sun in the sky, and still Stars lighting the night, and maybe, just maybe, Erkenbrand and his two thousand Riders of Rohan would arrive before it was too late.

After all, one Rider of Rohan outmatched ten Uruk-Hai. And there were two thousand Riders of Rohan somewhere on the north-western plains of Rohan.

.

The day the Sun did not rise was the day Legolas nearly lost Hope. He sat on the prow of the commandeered ship, rowing upriver far faster than he'd thought a ship could travel, and the day was dark.

Legolas spent the dark day making arrows, and sharpening his knives. Gimli joined him, and Legolas nearly smiled as he counted the Dwarf's many axes - far more than Legolas would ever have expected to be comfortable around. That one moment of light-hearted amusement was all it took to tip the scales back in favour of Hope, as Legolas remembered why he was here, and not some powerful old Elf-Lord.

Legolas knew how to keep hope against the Dark. He'd done it all his life.

After all, the dark in southern Mirkwood was as unnatural as the dark of this day, and as evil.

And Legolas had fought that Dark every day of his life.

.

Legolas held onto hope when the host of the West was surrounded by enemies on the plains before the Black Gate. He fought with honour and valour, and tried to keep close to both Peregrin and Aragorn, to help them if they had need of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw a huge troll, and another glance revealed Aragorn fighting it desperately. Legolas kept stabbing and slicing the orcs before him, but then Aragorn fell under the Troll's brutal strength. Desperately, Legolas tried to reach him, but it was for naught, and finally, Legolas' distraction nearly killed him when a blade flicked before his face. Legolas snapped back to reality, fighting with all he had left, but came to one terrible conclusion:

Legolas had finally lost Hope, here at the End of All Things.

When Orodruin erupted, and the rest of the host cheered as their enemies fled, Legolas desperately searched for Aragorn, and Peregrin, and Gimli, and did not trust to hope until he had Aragorn tired but alive in his arms. Soon Gimli's voice rang out, and Legolas helped to pull Peregrin out from under a goblin, alive but unconscious, and then Legolas wept in gladness, for they had defeated the Shadow, even when all hope had fled at the last.

This came from some mulling over the idea that perhaps the Ring affects people differently - for example, Boromir wanted to use it as a weapon, while Bilbo didn't want to let it go, and Frodo wanted to protect it (while under the Ring's influence, of course). I like the idea that the Ring worked on Merry, Pippin and Sam (unsuccessfully) as they journeyed from the Shire to Rivendell, and tried to affect Aragorn (unsuccessfully) between Bree and Rivendell. It already tried Gandalf in Hobbiton. So, logic dictates that between Rivendell and Parth Galen (where it was physically separated from the rest of the Fellowship), that the Ring exerted its effort on Legolas, Gimli and Boromir, having already discovered that the others would take longer to be affected. Perhaps the Ring tried to take away Legolas' hope, something which still haunts him later (Helm's Deep and the Morannon especially). Perhaps the Ring was part of why Gimli was so sure they would find Dwarves in Moria - it wanted him to take it to Moria, where Gimli could either take the Ring for himself or give it to a Dwarf-Lord such as Balin.