The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed or added me to their favourites/alerts lists or who are just reading this story on the quiet. Enjoy the next chapter.

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Chapter 21 – The Last Homely House

Sense returned slowly to Aragorn from the wonderfully blissful depths of sleep. A warm tingling feeling all throughout his body made him frown, for it did not resemble the freezing cold air he'd become used to waking up to on the exposed road in the past couple of winter months but neither did it remind him of the stifling heat that summer mornings sometimes brought out in the wilds. If anything, it brought back memories of evenings spent with the Rangers and his father huddled before a campfire after a meal and prolonged exposure to good company; positively cosy.

But he quickly realised that he was not laid on the hard ground as he'd grown accustomed to doing whilst travelling with Legolas, but rather on a soft, unfamiliar surface. Through the haze of sleep, confusion urged him to open his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes and found himself in a dimly lit room, the majority of the light coming from the fire burning in the hearth. It was no wonder he was so warm, Aragorn mused idly as he glanced with fascination at the flames lapping at exquisitely decorated tile.

Sitting up slowly, Aragorn looked around himself, remembering now that he was in Rivendell, that he'd come here with Legolas during the night, having followed the beacon of light in the window of the House Legolas proclaimed to know so well. He then searched the room with his eyes for his guardian and could only assume that the blanket-shrouded lump on the short sofa on the far side of the room was his travelling companion. He could see no sign of the odd dark-haired Elf who'd met them upon their arrival and brought them to this room to rest. Perhaps that was for the best though. Aragorn still wasn't entirely certain what to make of Erestor.

Once he'd ascertained that he and Legolas were not being observed by their unusual host, Aragorn swung his legs out from under the blankets that had covered him, threw the warm covers aside and stood up. He made his way to the warm bathroom to relieve his full bladder. Obviously, he'd been asleep for longer than he'd first thought although he had no idea what time of day or night it was.

When he went back into the other room, instead of immediately returning to the bed to sleep of the remainder of his grogginess, Aragorn stretched his aching muscles then flopped gracelessly down into the plush armchair that Legolas had sat in earlier as he spoke in quiet tones with Erestor. In front of the fire, the man was warm and cosy and he found himself dozing for a while.

Aragorn startled awake then, not having realised he had fallen asleep again. He sat up straight and rubbed his heavy eyes. Daylight now partially lit the room, leeching through the gaps in the shutters covering the windows.

Stretching again, wincing at the stiffness of his aching muscles, Aragorn yawned widely.

Then the young man got to his feet and looked over to Legolas, who had, it seemed, snuggled even further down into the blankets covering him sometime during the night. Aragorn heard his mentor mumble something in his sleep, although he couldn't figure out what was being said, and tip-toed across the flagstones to lean over and peer down at the sleeping Elf. He couldn't see Legolas' face buried beneath the covers but hoped that he was peaceful. Seldom did he see his tightly-wound guardian sleep in this manner. It warmed him to think that the Elf was resting with some tranquillity.

"Legolas?" Aragorn whispered softly. "Are you awake?" He laid his hand on Legolas' arm but his mentor didn't even stir. "Legolas?" He tried to determine whether his guardian was restless in his repose.

"Aragorn," Erestor's voice startled the boy and he shot up straight, instinctively backing away from the sofa and his guardian as though caught doing something wrong. The tall, dark Elf was stood in the doorway, cold grey eyes staring at his human guest critically. Erestor took a sweeping step into the room then and also peered down at his old friend, saying with almost painful tenderness, "He sleeps still."

"Yes," Aragorn replied simply, unsure of what else Erestor was expecting him to say as he stated the obvious. As before, he was not entirely certain how to take this Elf that although Legolas trusted he couldn't bring himself to do likewise.

"Hm, then let us leave him to rest whilst he is peaceful," Erestor said, lowering his voice to a whisper so as not to disturb the sleeping Legolas as the blonde Elf shifted in his bed. Aragorn looked reluctant to leave the side of his guardian so the dark Elf gently took his elbow and prompted in the manner of a determined parent, "Come with me, child and I'll get you some breakfast. He will be well after some rest."

With no small amount of reluctance, Aragorn nodded in agreement so Erestor led him from the room, closing the door noiselessly behind him and leaving Legolas to sleep in peace.

Aragorn followed Erestor slowly through the corridors of Rivendell, noticing for the first time now that it was daylight the sheer beauty of the place. Mostly left open to the elements, even the simple corridors were more splendid than anything Aragorn had ever seen before, even in the other fantastical Elven realm he had visited in his life. Everything he'd seen prior to the Elven realms of Lothlorien and now Rivendell had been bleakly simple and purely functional, as the new world dictated they must be in order to endure. Beauty and art had no place in Sauron's world and the lands of the Dark Lord, and those of his disloyal subjects, belayed that. But in the lands of the Elves, even though evil and barrenness still obviously seeped into the land around them, the ancient structures remained as beautiful as Aragorn imagined them to have been before war devastated the world around them.

Overawed by the splendour of his surroundings, Aragorn's attention wandered so that he ended up walking straight past the door Erestor had stepped through on their way.

Erestor cleared his throat in amusement, making the human stop short then retrace his steps with a sheepish smile. "Wait in here and I'll bring you in some food."

Aragorn nodded in acquiescence so the Elf left him alone again, silently slipping through another thick door. For a minute, Aragorn stood stiffly in the doorway where he had been left, a little unsure of what he should do in this foreign place. Erestor had not specifically told him to remain in one place though, so he turned on the spot to face the room in which he'd been left.

This room was nothing short of spectacular to his young eyes. It may have been comparatively simple considering the intricacy displayed in what other parts of the house Aragorn had seen fleetingly so far but the sheer volume of treasures lining the walls was in itself breath-taking.

Lit only by the daylight shining in through the ceiling-high windows, the room was obviously used regularly although it was by no means tidy. In fact, even given the seeming Elven propensity towards disorganised clutter, it was exceptionally messy. A smile passed over Aragorn's lips when he imagined the impeccable, formal Elf frantically searching frantically through the towering piles that filled the room for whatever particular treasure he sought.

Aragorn walked over to one of the high stacks of books, careful to avoid knocking over any of the many piles of similar tomes towering all around him on the fine richly decorated carpet, and carefully ran his finger over the dusty leather spines in interest.

"Quite an amazing space, is it not?"

Erestor's return once again startled Aragorn and he span around suddenly, knocking the top few books from the pile on his right to fall to the carpeted floor with a heavy thud. He wondered why on earth the Rivendell Elf felt the need to be quite so stealthy in his appearances. It couldn't possibly be simply because he was an Elf. Legolas was never quite so sneaky.

Bending down to pick up the books he had dropped, Aragorn immediately defended himself, "I didn't mean to pry."

As the boy carefully restacked the books he'd knocked over back onto the precariously balanced pile, Erestor waved away his concerns, laying the tray of food he was carrying on the large desk by the windows. "If I hadn't wanted you to pry then I wouldn't have left you here alone."

"What is this place?"

"This," Erestor explained, "is Lord Elrond's private study and Imladris' main library, although it was never meant to be. But necessity has made it so…" He shrugged indifferently, sent a despairing look around the disorganised room crammed with books and papers, then looked back to his guest with a wearisome smile. "Please help yourself." He pointed to the bowl of steaming food on the desk. "So many books ended up here over the years that no one bothered to return them to their true place of keeping. I'm not sure I have the inclination to do so now."

Picking up the bowl of white gloop that Erestor had passed off as 'breakfast', Aragorn commented, "It's a little…muddled."

At this, the Elf openly laughed but at the same time nodded in complete agreement. "Yes, that is indeed an apt description of it."

Upon eating a spoonful of the unquantifiable white food provided for him, Aragorn found it to be actually rather pleasant to the taste. It didn't take long for him to scrape every last scrap of the food away and then look back to Erestor, who had now perched himself elegantly on the sill of the tall window to watch his guest.

The Elf seemed to be lost in thought as he stared openly at the man. Aragorn recognised that faraway look in his eyes – he'd seen it often enough in Legolas in the past.

He placed the bowl down with a purposeful clatter to announce that he'd finished and went over to join his host. As he stepped towards the dark-haired being, Aragorn's footfalls echoed loudly around the big, tall room. He looked up as he walked to the high, vaulted ceiling, which was decorated with, admittedly dulling through the passage of time, but nevertheless beautifully coloured motifs. Wondrous images, the like of which he had never set eyes upon before, dazzled him.

He looked back down at the floor as a rustling sound joined that of his footsteps on the carpet and found that this part of the room was littered with the fallen leaves from many yellowing books.

Aragorn shuddered slightly, an unexpected reaction. Far from the cosy, homeliness of the room where he'd spent the night resting easily, this library felt more like a tomb than a home. The many volumes lining the walls and all the knowledge on a vast array of subjects many of which were no doubt beyond him contained within was, in the wake of the changing of the world, now rendered entirely irrelevant and felt somehow cold. Aragorn ran his fingers over the dusty leather bindings and even though he could not fathom the words that rested within, he felt a deep sense of sadness at their fate, the vast irrelevant knowledge seeped into every single useless yellowing page never again to serve its purpose.

"These are beautiful."

"Yes," Erestor mumbled absently.

Turning to the advisor, Aragorn asked in interest, "Have you read them all?" Erestor looked just studious enough to achieve such a feat.

At this, the Elf stirred from his reverie with a soft chuckle. "No. Even with an eternal life, I would never find the time."

"Maybe Lord Elrond has then?"

"Perhaps," Erestor conceded with a shrug. "And Legolas certainly tried to get through as many as he could whenever he came to visit."

"He did?"

"Oh yes. He loved the library above all else, he always spent as much time as he could in here."

His interest piqued, Aragorn asked, "Did he come to Rivendell often?"

"As often as his duties in Mirkwood would allow. He always found peace here, I believe. He valued the quiet Imladris offered."

"He couldn't find peace and quiet in Mirkwood?"

"Rarely, I fear. Mirkwood was a kingdom torn apart by war even before the reign of Shadow. There was scarce opportunity for him to get away from the fighting."

"It must have been very lonely for him," Aragorn mused sadly, thinking of Legolas being denied a place where he found genuine rest for perhaps years on end.

The boy was startled when this prompted loud laughter from the Elven advisor. "I don't think Legolas was ever lonely a day in his life," he exclaimed in amusement. "All those people looking up to him, seeking his love and approval; it was impossible for him to feel alone."

"Because he was a great warrior?" Aragorn asked, recalling the skill and bravery Legolas had always shown when in battle along with the sparse details about his past life he had chosen to divulge over the years.

"The greatest in Mirkwood. And the best archer on all Arda according to most."

This was the most Aragorn had ever learned about Legolas in all the years travelling with him. It was most definitely more than Legolas would ever speak of himself. And now Aragorn found that he wanted to know more about his enigmatic guardian from one who clearly knew him.

"What was Legolas like? Before the war, I mean."

Erestor moved from the windowsill to sit instead on the chair behind the huge wooden desk. "Well," he sighed, trying to decide where to start with his knowledge of the blonde Elf he had once gotten to know so well. "He was a formidable warrior, but I suppose you already know that." Aragorn smiled proudly in confirmation. "He was kind, steady and fair, even when those around him found it difficult to keep their composure."

Erestor restlessly got to his feet again and gestured for Aragorn to follow him across the room. He led the human to the far wall and nodded towards a large map pinned amongst many others, faded and wrinkled and written in a language that Aragorn could not read.

"A map of Mirkwood," Erestor explained then pointed to a few different positions amidst the mass of trees. "Dol Guldur, stronghold of the Shadow. The palace of Mirkwood. The Old Forest Road."

"This," Aragorn whispered as he traced his fingers over the line representing the length of road – the road he had spent years wandering with Legolas. "We were so close. He never said." They had been so very close to Legolas' home all that time. No wonder the Elf had been so reluctant to leave what he knew to be close to that which he obviously loved. "Was Mirkwood like Rivendell?"

"A land ravaged by constant war, Mirkwood had no protective guardian as Imladris had in Lord Elrond or Lothlorien had in Lady Galadriel. King Thranduil was an undeniably formidable ruler but one more often associated with a commander than a steward of his lands. But Mirkwood had beauty beneath the darkness brought by Shadow. Beauty resounded throughout its great forests and rivers. Legolas was always exceptionally proud of what he had created, even in the times when peace was elusive."

"He helped shape Mirkwood?"

"Of course. Despite his position he always fought alongside the army he commanded."

"Was he very important, then?"

Erestor chuckled softly but still answered, "Son of the king; so pretty important I would say."

Aragorn looked up sharply at the dark-haired Elf, stunned by this new and unprecedented information. "Son of the king?" he whispered in amazement. "Legolas was Mirkwood's prince?"

"You didn't already know that?" Erestor asked, obviously surprised.

The boy shook his head softly. "No, he never told me."

"Ah," Erestor muttered regretfully, bowing his head. "It seems I have spoken out of turn."

"No, not at all. I just…I wonder why he never confided in me."

"I'm sure he had his reasons, Aragorn."

"What reasons could there be for such deception?" the man snapped irritably.

"That I don't know, I'm afraid."

"Was…was he a bad prince?"

Frowning deeply, Erestor said, "Why would you ask that?"

Slowly, Aragorn sat down on the edge of the desk taking a moment to gather his thoughts before saying softly, "He told me that when the armies of Shadow invaded the palace, he ran away and left the remainder of his people to die."

Erestor sighed heavily at this new troubling information and leaned back in his seat, which creaked ominously under even his slight weight. "If that is so then he must have had a fair reason for doing so. Legolas was no coward." At this, Aragorn had to nod in agreement. Cowardice had never been a trait he associated with his guardian; quite the opposite in fact, Legolas was staunchly courageous. "Anyway, this conversation, child, should be reserved for your guardian. It is not my place to speak of Legolas' past." Once more Aragorn nodded, lowering his eyes to the desk. "There are some things I have to take care of now. Feel free now to return to Legolas and take some more rest."

As Erestor rose gracefully from his chair, Aragorn also shot up and eagerly asked, "What kind of things?"

"Even abandoned, Imladris does not run itself."

"Can I help you then?"

"You wish to help me in my chores?" the major domo asked sceptically.

"Well, I don't feel like lying in bed all day and I don't want to disturb Legolas."

"No, he needs to rest," Erestor quickly agreed. "Very well then," he decided, "you may come along with me."

Aragorn followed Erestor around the enchanting House of Elrond for the rest of the morning. The Elf's duties were, Aragorn discovered as he shadowed him, exceptionally diverse. He did everything from preparing food in the kitchen to stoking the massive furnace, which Erestor explained was what heated the water rather than the magic Aragorn had suspected the night before as he took a hot bath, to chopping up fresh wood to fuel the fires.

Erestor actually found the boy to be quite useful. Despite his comparatively short stature and thin frame, he was hard-working and seemed fascinated and excited in equal measure by the medial tasks Erestor appointed him. Clearly, he had never had to perform any of these kinds of chores before and it excited him to learn. He asked questions constantly, drinking in all the information his knowledgeable Elven host could provide him with. The Elven house was simply vast, Aragorn discovered as they walked around. Hundreds of rooms lined the open hallways, most of them locked up and no doubt fallen into disrepair after decades of neglect.

It was the high ceilings that enchanted Aragorn the most though; the amount of obvious effort and detail that had been poured into something so rarely scrutinised was extraordinary. Beautiful murals, faded over time, graced both the vaulted ceilings and the walls and although Aragorn had no idea what the images represented he was nevertheless enthralled by the sheer splendour of them.

"My lord Elrond long ago serving as herald to Lord Gil-Galad," Erestor explained when he caught Aragorn admiring one particularly large mural on a wooden panel affixed to the wall. "This is Gil-Galad here." He pointed to the faded image of a powerful-looking, dark-haired Elf in blue armour and a deep blue cloak, wielding an enormous, vicious spear, towering above all the other subjects in the painting, face set in grim determination. "And my lord, Elrond." Erestor next touched the painting of a slightly shorter figure bearing the same colouring and armour as his commander Gil-Galad. In his hand he held a banner, colours so faded they were impossible now to make out, flying proudly in the breeze. Despite the fact that he was obviously in Gil-Galad's service, Elrond seemed proud to be stood beside his formidable commander. The faded colours, Aragorn was certain, did neither Elf justice if the real-life Erestor was anything to go by. To see them in true life must have been quite something.

"Are they at war?" Aragorn asked after taking a while to examine the painting.

"Yes, but not the war you know."

"There were others?"

As they started walking again, Erestor chuckled, "Legolas did not teach you much by the way of Elven history, I see."

Bristling at the apparent slight regarding Legolas' raising and teaching of him, Aragorn replied distastefully, "He has taught me what I need to survive. What more is there to know?"

Erestor stopped in his tracks and appeared mortified that Aragorn had taken his words as an insult. He bowed slightly, saying, "I meant no offence to you or to Legolas. Of course survival is the most important lesson in these times and Legolas has clearly taught you well in that regard." Aragorn nodded in acceptance of the apology, even though to him Erestor still seemed a little insincere and not quite as contrite as his elegant words implied. However, the Elf started walking again and he followed, eager for yet more information. "King Gil-Galad ruled the Noldor Elves in the First Age of the Sun. He was a great king and general. He led the Elves during the War of the Last Alliance of Men and Elves."

This really caught Aragorn's attention. An alliance between Men and the Elves was an interesting concept to Aragorn and one that he had never even considered to be possible before and yet according to this obviously learned Elf, it had happened in the past. In all their time travelling together, Erestor was the only remotely friendly person that he and Legolas had met. Certainly, they had not encountered any humans who were even sane, let alone friendly and helpful enough to form an alliance with and Aragorn had certainly never come across another Elf before, nor had Legolas ever spoken of meeting another on his travels.

"An alliance?" Aragorn questioned before the Elf could continue any further with his story.

"Indeed. When the Dark Lord Sauron first rose to power during the First Age and waged war on the free world, the Elves aligned with the Humans of Gondor and Arnor, the ancient twin kingdoms, and marched with fury and strength on Mordor."

"Did they succeed?"

"Indeed they did," Erestor smiled grimly in response. "Many died, hundreds in that final battle alone, and the land remained ever cursed, steeped in the blood of the brave and the true. Through their sacrifices though, they drove back the army of the Shadow despite the odds and destroyed Sauron – or so they believed at the time."

"But he lived."

"Resurrected in the tower of Barad-Dur," the Elf confirmed darkly. "Gaining power over the years, he soon gathered to him his dark forces and…well, you have lived long enough in the wake of his rule to know the outcome of his second bid at domination."

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully, knowing fully well the horror that Sauron had brought upon the lands. "So I suppose there is no hope left." he said quietly.

"That, my young friend, is a question for more powerful and insightful beings than myself," Erestor said with a sharp, self-deprecating laugh.

"Like who?"

Erestor shook his head, smiling once again. "I'm afraid I know not."

Aragorn sighed in disappointment. Yet another person telling him that they had no idea of what was to come. Legolas had come to Rivendell with the intent of finding answers but Aragorn didn't believe, listening to Erestor, that he'd find them in the remaining Elf in the realm.

"Here we are," Erestor eventually told Aragorn, stopping before a set of tall, double doors. "You wait here for just a moment. This chore I must do alone."

Leaving Aragorn standing rather bemused in the corridor, Erestor stepped up to the doors and tapped gently but did not pause for an answer before opening the door and stepping inside. Curious as to who or what lay beyond, Aragorn shuffled closer and tried to peer into the room Erestor had just disappeared into but from his current angle he could not see much at all. So, quietly so he didn't alert the keen-eared Erestor to his actions, he moved closer still, looking through the gap where the Elf had failed to close the door fully.

The room was dark, the heavy drapes drawn securely over the tall windows. Erestor was stood by a desk crammed with books and scrolls, laying out the food he had brought from the kitchens, but Aragorn could see another tray piled with plates of uneaten meals also laid on the table, so whoever Erestor was feeding obviously wasn't eating his offerings. Aragorn could see Erestor speaking, but the words were far too quiet for him to catch from this distance and he suspected that even if he had been standing next to the major domo at the time he would not have understood what was being said.

After a moment, Erestor crossed the room in long strides and Aragorn also moved so he could follow the Elf's movements with his eyes. Taking the tray, Erestor walked towards the fireplace, only embers glowing as the fire had burned down, and stopped by a large armchair. He knelt down and appeared to lay the tray gently on the lap of the chair's occupant.

Then Erestor spoke again and although Aragorn could now hear the words, as he'd predicted earlier, he couldn't understand their meaning; they were spoken in the same language the Elf had used with Legolas when they first met. He could discern from his tone of voice, however, that Erestor sounded concerned.

Another voice came then, this one softer, hoarse, as if little used. Once again it was spoken in the beautiful yet infuriating foreign language that Aragorn could not translate. A pale white, dreadfully frail hand was laid weakly on Erestor's shoulder as if to placate him and the Elf bowed his head respectfully at the touch. The second, new voice came again, followed by a weary sigh as the figure's hand was slowly withdrawn.

Erestor spoke again, sadly, then stood up with a much firmer command, a single word but impossible for Aragorn to understand.

After that, the boy quickly retreated back, away from the door as Erestor returned to the table then headed from the room. Once the door was closed on the strange person Erestor was looking after, the Elf smiled grimly at the boy, who stood uncomfortable at spying on that which the major domo obviously had not wanted him to see.

"I should take these back to the kitchens," Erestor said, nodding to the plates piled on the tray in his hands.

"And I think I should return to Legolas now," Aragorn said, already backing away, eager to tell his guardian all about this new development in Rivendell.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes; he'll be wondering where I am if he wakes and finds me missing. I would not alarm him."

"Very well. Can you find your way back on your own?"

"Of course," Aragorn answered with certainty.

"Alright then," Erestor muttered under his breath in confusion as the boy had already slid around the corner out of view and Erestor could now hear his hastily retreating footsteps. Increasingly baffled by the strange child Prince Legolas had aligned himself with, the major domo shook his head then turned away to finish off his chores alone.

Meanwhile, Aragorn raced through the deserted corridors until, panting for breath, he reached the room where he and Legolas were staying. He found that even though his guardian remained sound asleep, sprawled inelegantly out on the couch by the window, he was glad, relieved to be back in Legolas' comforting presence.

For a while, Aragorn paced before the fire, torn between waking Legolas and telling him everything he had learned during his morning spent with their host and leaving the Elf to sleep. Every so often he would cast an anxious glance towards the closed door, convinced that Erestor would return unexpectedly and rob him of his chance to air his disquiet before Legolas.

Fortunately, he never had to make the decision himself, as Legolas started to wake after a short while. Slowly, the Elf stretched out his seemingly cramped long limbs, feet dangling over the end of the too-short couch, and yawned widely as he emerged from sleep. When his eyes opened gradually, Legolas found himself looking directly up at a frowning Aragorn.

"What's wrong?" Legolas asked immediately, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Nothing is wrong," Aragorn assured right away, taking a step back.

Legolas, however, observed, "You are hovering."

Aragorn perched on the edge of the divan, shoving Legolas' legs aside a little so he could fit. "I have been with Erestor all morning."

"And?" Legolas asked around a yawn, running his hands down his face again in an attempt to clear the fuzzy disorientation from his head.

"I was helping him with his chores around the house," Aragorn continued to quickly confide, his words so rushed that Legolas had a job to understand them, "and he went into this room and there was someone else in there with him. I think it was another Elf, like you, because he spoke the same kinds of words you and Erestor used with each other before." He felt immensely better now that he had shared this information with his mentor and Legolas could now decide what to make of it all.

"You met Lord Elrond?" The Elf suddenly seemed more interested.

"I don't know who it was; I was watching from the doorway."

"Spying?"

"No! Well, yes. But how else are we supposed to find out anything? Erestor is keeping quiet."

"Lord Elrond is still in Rivendell; I'm sure that must have been who you saw," Legolas placated.

"But I thought Erestor said that he was all alone here."

"Yes, he did."

"He lied to me but told you the truth."

Legolas smiled and laid his hand on Aragorn's arm before swinging his legs around the boy to get up. "He trusts me only because he knows me, Aragorn. Do not take offence."

Aragorn looked uncertainly down at the creased bedding his guardian had just vacated and said in a quiet voice, "He showed me Lord Elrond's study."

"Did he?"

The boy nodded then continued, "He also showed me a map of your home."

Legolas froze in the task of doing up the buttons that had popped open on his too-big shirt as he had slept and Aragorn saw his shoulders slump slightly in defeat. "I see." Suddenly, seeing the renewed sadness in his mentor, Aragorn wished he could retract his words but Legolas was not now going to allow him to pretend that nothing had been said. "What else did Erestor tell you?"

Aragorn, still annoyed, nevertheless answered calmly and truthfully. "He said that you were the son of the king; the Prince of Mirkwood." Legolas bowed his head and nodded thoughtfully but did not say anything in response. After a while of that much-despised silence, however, Aragorn again spoke in the same soft tone. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Legolas abruptly jumped to his feet, not looking back at Aragorn as he stalked to the fire to warm his chilled hands. "Because," he answered after a tense moment, "I didn't think it was important."

"Not important? You ruled over Mirkwood."

"Yes, 'ruled', past tense. There is no Mirkwood anymore and there wasn't any Mirkwood when I met you and your father that day, so my title didn't mean anything. It didn't matter," Legolas explained in an emotionlessly flat voice.

"Well, it matters to me."

Legolas turned to the boy sharply, something akin to anger flaring in his eyes. "Why?" he demanded harshly. "What difference should it make to you? I am exactly the same person to you that I was yesterday, am I not?"

Getting up himself, Aragorn angrily retorted, "It matters because you lied to me! All that talk about me being of royal blood, of being the one to reunite the scattered world of Men and you didn't think that your experience as a ruler would be of any importance to me?"

"No, it is not!" Legolas finally shouted back, losing his temper. "My past is mine alone to bear and it is utterly irrelevant to your current situation."

"Don't you think I deserved to know the truth?"

"No, Aragorn. You do not get to know every dark detail about me."

"Why not? You're my guardian."

"And you are my ward. I decide what is for the best," Legolas snapped back shortly.

"In case you have forgotten, you haven't always had the best track record when it comes to your decisions. Lothlorien, for instance."

"Aragorn…"

"Fine; you don't trust me then keep your secrets. I don't care!" With that, the boy strode to the door, shoved past a startled Erestor, and stormed away from his guardian.

"Excuse me," Erestor said softly as he stepped into the room, once more feeling guilty interrupting what seemed to be a private moment between the companions.

Legolas sighed heavily, moving back over to his sofa bed and sitting on the edge. "My apologies, Erestor," he said for Aragorn's behaviour as he ran his hands down his face, this time in despair.

"Please," the major domo shook off the apology. "I brought some food in the hope you would be awake."

"Thank you. That is very kind." Legolas took the bowl of porridge from Erestor gratefully. "I hope that our being here is not dramatically depleting your resources."

"Our stores have sustained us thus far. It is my honour to share all I have with you and your ward, Your Highness."

"Please…please, don't call me that," Legolas requested, swallowing the wonderfully hot food.

"Of course, if you wish," Erestor agreed. "Will your young friend be alright?"

Legolas looked toward the door through which Aragorn had just angrily disappeared. "He'll be fine. He merely needs some time away from me to cool down."

"I fear that I may have unintentionally caused some difficulty between the two of you." Legolas did not look up at him but his silence was confirmation enough for the observant advisor. "I thought you would have told him sooner or I would not have spoken of your homeland."

"I suppose I should have been truthful with him."

"I do understand why you found it hard."

Legolas did not respond but continued to eat his food steadily. His mind never drifted far from Aragorn though. He didn't like it one bit when the boy stormed off in a rage; more often than not it led to some kind of trouble on Aragorn's part. Of course, rationally, Legolas knew that in Imladris, Aragorn would be perfectly safe and yet worry still gnawed at his mind.

After his bowl had been scraped empty, Legolas started the conversation up again with, "Aragorn mentioned that he saw you speaking to Lord Elrond earlier."

"Ah, I guessed he might have seen, the way he ran away. Lord Elrond is not keen on visitors. He has been denied company for so long. I did not want him to frighten the boy."

"I don't want Aragorn anywhere near him. The child is confused enough as it is."

"What has he to be confused about?"

For only a second did Legolas wonder whether telling Erestor everything he'd come to Imladris to discuss with Elrond would actually be for the best but although the trust between the two Elves had grown significantly since Legolas' unexpected appearance the night before, he still did not feel comfortable discussing Aragorn's dilemma with the major domo. Perhaps if Elrond proved unable to help then he would turn the problem over to the wise advisor of Imladris instead.

Realising after a moment's silence that he was not going to get an answer, Erestor stood from his position, held out his hand for Legolas' empty bowl and said, "Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude."

"I just…I have to speak with Lord Elrond first."

"I understand."

"May I speak with your Lord now?"

"I have informed him of your presence in Rivendell."

"And?"

Erestor sighed wearily, seeming to Legolas deflated for the first time. "My Lord does not speak much these days. I could not tell you what his reaction to your coming will be."

"I must try, Erestor. It is important I speak with him."

The dark-haired Elf nodded in understanding. "Very well, Legolas. I shall bring you some clean clothes and warn Elrond of your coming."

"Thank you."

With a sharp nod of his head, Erestor left the room.

When he returned, true to his word, he brought fresh clothes, which Legolas quickly pulled on in the privacy of the bathroom.

"You look better," Erestor commented when Legolas emerged wearing a set of clothes that so much resembled the formal wear he would once have worn in this kind of situation that it made him feel rather uncomfortable. "Come, I will take you now to Lord Elrond."

To Be Continued…