All around were beautiful waters. Trees sang the most beautiful harmonies he had ever heard and a family of deer grazed on the banks near where he swam. He thought back to a time when he was a child when he had raised an arrow to one. He had been questioning how anyone could ever think to destroy something so beautiful and it reminded him of what the greed for glory incited in people. He held no ill intent and still he had almost killed something beautiful beyond compare, it made more sense to him now that an Orc could take down one such as Haldir without a second thought.

His mind had been peacefully blank from the moment he held the necklace in his hands. He could not think or perhaps he did not want to. All of his thoughts were spiteful and melancholy. He pitied himself immensely and then felt greatly ashamed that Haldir had never seen this side of him. He may not have loved him if he had. It was difficult to process that he was no longer here, or there or anywhere at all. Only in knowing he was gone did Legolas realise he had always been making his way back to him, even if it had been impossible. Even though he never admitted it to himself. Why else would he feel so directionless now?

The trees of the golden wood surely would wonder why their friend had not returned. The rivers and streams would surely think to question the absence of Haldir. After all, Haldir had lived so many ages that would never have gone unnoticed. He knew that even his own home had never forgotten the loss of his mother, even if at times Legolas had. Branches still shivered at the words Dol Gudor and he knew that they had loved her very much. Legolas considered returning to Mirkwood to finally understand his father. They could rule together, broken hearted and eager to leave this world behind.

But Legolas knew he could not return, not just yet. Gimli had been a great friend to him and an excellent confidante. Never could he have imagined such friendship from a dwarf. He wondered what his father would think. And it pained him to think of leaving Estel behind. He knew that Aragorn had his own plans and his own fears of ruling Gondor, that Legolas was merely a friend and a brother of the Fellowship. He knew that they would part ways, perhaps to meet again when Aragorn held his first child, grey flecks and smiling eyes would greet Legolas who would remain unchanged. In merely a blink of an eye, Aragorn would be no more, leaving behind a royal bloodline and a broken elf. No, he could not stand to see that. He would depart for the Undying Lands long before he would watch Estel die. He was envious then of the ranger's mortality. The world is too much for one man and much more for an elf. He was still considered so young amongst his own people and yet he was tired.

He was tired of war and of death. He simply wanted to sleep now and wake in a place where such things were of no concern. He could spend the rest of his days amongst nature, journeying to incredible lands with people he cared deeply for. Yet it held no appeal for him. He wished to meet his mother once again, to find Haldir. He wished to leave this world and the troubles it brought, to rid himself of the knowledge that his father had endured so much suffering because he refused to leave him behind. He knew of his own selfishness and naivety of how much it had hurt Aragorn when Boromir was lost, to the hobbits when they believed Gandalf had perished. His pain was no more felt or more powerful and he had been a fool to believe it had been, even if only for a brief moment. Pain was pain no matter where it found it's mark.

He let the river water wash over him yet arose feeling as unclean as before. He knew that Aragorn wished to speak with him but he did not know if he could bear to hear him. He believed this would be the goodbye he had always dreaded as Aragorn prepared to be King. The only one of them worthy of such a title. He dressed slowly, bade goodbye to the waters and made his way back.