Title: Facing Demons

Rating: PG

Archiving: Ask first, please

Summary: A brief moment of peace reveals the real reason Legolas didn't want to go into Moria.

A/N: This is my first attempt at LotR fic. This is kind of the prompting into a bigger piece of work which I'm just starting to work on. Keep your eyes out for the prequel.

***

Legolas stared into the fire. It was not his turn to watch, though he should have been helping since dreams would not be finding him this night. At first light the Fellowship would make for Moria, the mines of lore and legend. The elf had voiced his opinion on this route, but he had been out voted.

There were few things that made Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood nervous, but Moria was one of them. Dark were the tales of old of the mines, those sung in legend and those written in lore. It would be four days in the caverns, four days without sunlight or fresh air.

Four days underground. Sealed in darkness, the air growing stale and heavy as it was used and not recycled. The dark corners closing in slowly as time passed, small dark spaces getting smaller and darker.

Legolas startled at the familiar hand that settled on his shoulder. He had not heard Aragorn's approach, so lost was he in memory.

"You are troubled?" the Man asked softly in Elvish. The others were close and dozing lightly and the Ranger had no wish to disturb the little rest they could get.

"Aye," Legolas answered just as softly.

"The mines." It wasn't a question.

"Aye," Legolas whispered again, ducking his head, trying to hide his fear. The elf knew the Man was aware of this weakness within him. Twenty years and still it haunted him. Trapped in darkness, injured and unable to get out, buried alive, alone.  All enclosed spaces terrified him for some time after that. Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir had taken turns sleeping out of doors with him, on the nights that he couldn't face his guest room at Imladris.

The brush of blunt fingers against his cheek made him raise his head and meet the eyes of the Dúnedan. "You are not alone this time, mellon nîn," Aragorn continued to whisper in the elf's native tongue, knowing Legolas would hear even the softest utterances. "You will not be lost in the darkness again. I will not let it happen."

Legolas nodded, lowering his gaze again. He should not be afraid of such petty things as the dark.

"We all have our demons, Legolas," Aragorn chided softly as the elven prince tried to hide his feelings again. "And we need not face them alone." The Man squeezed his friend's shoulder again before rising and continuing his patrol around the small camp.

Legolas had no time to ponder more on the Man's words, for the Wargs chose that moment to return.

Translation: mellon nin: my friend