Author's Note: Ohhhh yay! Thank you so much for the reviews guys!  Maybe at one point I will actually develop a ~gasp~ plot!  At the moment I'm not totally sure where to go with this whole thing so if you have any suggestions please let me know.  All advice is appreciated ..like, a lot…as in I think I have checked my reviews at least three times today.  Yes yes, I know I'm pathetic.  Right, back to the story….

"What sort of person is this Elf?" Said Gimli, leaning thoughtfully on his axe.

"Oh he's very skittish!" Said Pippin, looking eager to get his bit into the conversation. "And just about everything makes him jump, however I do think he's quite nice really. Though it is truly strange to think that an Elf would act like him. The only men of his kind I have ever seen have been so lordly, and all graceful like. Silentone, or Lianrei as Legolas calls him, is quite different. There is no grace in his movements, no Elfish pride. In Fact he seems to act as a young child at times, needing protection at all, but his eyes seem so old and tired that often I feel frightened looking at them."

Aragorn frowned and pulled his cloak closer to himself. "Do not judge Lianrei from what he is now. The Dark Lord is cruel beyond what you or even I can imagine. My guess is that he was once a great warrior, for the line of Greenleaf is a noble one and all who are born to them will be mighty. But all can be broken and what we have with us now is most likely the shell of a dignified man tortured for the sake of his people. He will need friendship of the strongest and most dedicated sort."

Merry nodded, "He has hardly left Pip's side. My cousin seems to have some sort of calming affect on Silentone and he has become more then a little attached to our dear friend."

Pippin blushed a bit and began to fidget. "I have done only what I could. But I'm no healer and there were many times I wished for the wise hands of Elrond, or yourself, Strider."

Aragorn smiled and tapped his pipe against a nearby stone to empty out the ashes. "There is little here that a healer can mend. The stout heart and joyful nature of a Hobbit may be just the thing he needs. But now let us retire for the night. We have traveled a long and weary road and there is still much to accomplish."

The Hobbits sprang from their chairs and set about gathering up blankets and such. There were quite a few little stone rooms about so that almost everyone had a place to sleep with privacy. The few object of comfort that they found were quite dirty, but served their purpose well. It took only a few moments for everyone to settle and even less time to drift off to exhausted sleep.

Pippin, however, stayed up a bit longer sitting out on a large flat stone. He thought about trying to find Silentone, for his heart was troubled greatly at the continued absence of his friend. But the woods were dark and foreboding. They frightened him, even though he knew that the Ents were about. Pippin could hear them in the distance, pounding and singing ageless Ent songs. Finally when his eyelids could not be forced up any longer he decided to go back inside. With a yawn he stood up and hopped over the rocks to a little hut that he had been sleeping in. The door was made of dark rotting wood and swung open on huge squeaky hinges. As the moonlight fell on the smooth dirt floor it illuminated a pale face crouched in the shadows. Pippins face lit up brightly and he rushed forward giving a little cry of delight. "Silentone! You're here! You had me worried no end."

The Elf's face remained the same, but he relaxed slightly and allowed Pippin to take his hand. The little hobbit chatted nervously for a bit as he hunted out a blanket from a pile of supplies. "There now," He said, laying the blanket gently over Silentone's frail form and tucking some old rags under his head for comfort. "You are an Elf prince you know. You're going to have to learn to take care of yourself now, wont you?."

Satisfied with the Elf's comfort Pippin sank down by his head humming softly an old song that Gandalf used to sing on the road. Something stirred in that little hobbit heart that was completely new to him. A sort of protective instinct, like that of a parent. It was strange, yes, but welcome as well, for it made him feel stronger and rather brave. Gandalf had trusted him with this life, broken as it was, and he was determined somehow to bring back happiness to whatever was left of what had once been Lianrei.

Suddenly he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a tightening in his chest. Eyes were on them both, of that he was sure. Whatever was about slinking through the night could not be good. Silentone was already asleep, bundled comfortable on the floor and thankfully was unaware of what was happening. Pippin swallowed hard, took one more look at the tense face before him and, giving a little cry, snatched up a nearby rock and le Pippin found himself lunging toward the door in a wave up protective fury. The rock felt heavy in his hand as he prepared to hurtle it with expert aim toward the head of his assailant. Just as he was about to release the weapon his muddled mind came to the realization of who he was attacking as his eyes managed to focus on the figure at the door. His breath caught in his throat and the rock fell limply from his fingers.

Legolas stood in the open doorway, his face grim but wholly without malice. His bow was nowhere to be seen and his arms were hanging limply at his sides. For a moment his eyes fell on Pippin. They were distant and unreadable, though somehow giving the impression that silent turmoil lurked just behind that mask of detachment. Never before had the prince appeared so tall to the hobbit and it seemed as though he himself had shrunk right down to the floor.

Then his gaze shifted again and fell upon Lianrei, who, having been awakened by Pippin's cry, was huddled against the far wall. Legolas seemed to be searching for something urgently, though an air of calm hung about him with almost crushing intensity.

Pippin began to feel uncomfortable, though exactly why was rather difficult to say, but the feeling was there non the less. It was almost as though he had stepped right into the middle of something personal, something very deep and far above him. Like a stranger looking into the window of a quite hobbit house and seeing some family morning the loss of a loved one.

The minutes stretched on. Not one of the trio moved so much as a muscle, though thoughts were swirling about at almost violent speeds.

With one last lingering look Legolas turned and disappeared into the night, having said no words, but leaving behind a mountain of thoughts.

Pippin felt relief flood over him. The blood seemed to have all gone racing through his head and was now pounding in his large pointed ears. It was a full minute before he regained enough composure to check up on his friend.

To his surprise Silentone did not seem frightened. His thin lips were drawn into a slight pucker and his dark eyebrows tilted inward thoughtfully. He seemed to be trying very hard to understand something, or to re-sort a memory long forgotten. His hazy eyes looked up at Pippin, as though asking for help.

The Hobbit sighed and kneeled back down taking the thin hand in his own stubby grip. There was nothing to say, and little he could do to ease the burden, and so they remained that way until late into the night. apt to his feet.