A/N: I'm so happy everyone's liking it so far! THANK YOU!! =D Also, I'm sorry, but it may take a while to update new chapters from here on. It's not that I'm not writing them (I already have the next ones completely lined up! *smiles proudly*), but I can only come online once during the week, twice if I'm lucky, and then on the weekend! Stupid school!... Anyway, here's a nice chapter to make it up to you! ;] Er... review?...please?...

And now... THE HORROR!... Honest! I get nightmares out of writing these things... brace yourselves for the next (to me, horrid) chapters!... They have dialogues!! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!! Title is in Quenya, as well as the line that appears afterwards in the text.

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Chapter IV - Lá Sí!...

Legolas sank deeper and deeper into himself, until he could truly feel nothing. He could not see, he could not hear, nor feel, nor smell anything and there was no sense of direction. All was dark and, for a second only, the elf longed for light. But he could not reach it. And frankly, he almost did not care. Outside, there was pain and nothing but torment; here, there was peace and blissful indifference. But there was also light outside, and he had seen it before falling into dreams... this dream... was it really only a dream?

Unexpectedly, he felt a great surge of energy, 'twas as if a breeze of fresh air lovingly caressed his face and lifted an enormous weight from him, and he wished to leave the place and return to the lands of Arda. The dark was not so dark anymore, and the freezing cold of unawareness was slowly replaced by a growing feeling of warmth. Smells and sounds abruptly started assaulting him, and amidst the explosion, he almost heard a faint whisper of some Lady's beautiful voice, far away in the distance, leaving him, and he mourned the loss... "Lá sí!... Lá er!... narlyë er maurë... Sín, utúlie'n aurë!" [Not now!... Not yet!... you are needed still... Now, day has come!] Then he woke, and forgot everything but that voice.

He felt strange, different; his body felt not as his own. He did not open his eyes, though, the sun was shining directly above, welcoming him back once again. The ground he was lying on was... wet, but not as hard as one would expect. It felt very uncomfortable, rough sand and dirt clinging to his skin everywhere. He was rather puzzled, since he could not remember much, but he did not mind greatly, for only that brief whisper had place in his mind, so sweet and comforting it was... Still, he had to focus on reality and remember. He hadn't been near any...

It came back. The goblin's capture, the torment... nay, it was no water, but blood, his own blood. That also explained why he felt so tired and dizzy. Aye, Glaukh had been angered indeed! Ai, Valar! The glove! It was poisoned was it not? What came of it? What kind of... poison?... Goblins?

~I don't feel half the pain right now, even though that's probably due to the night's rest. Yes, I suppose one night has passed since then... why would they let me be for so long? Ai!, the light! Am I truly, then, in the halls of Mandos? Nay, it cannot be! Perhaps I was near them, but not any more for sure! But then, why would they... Where are they? I cannot hear anything... Ai, this is most confusing... is it the poison's doing, I wonder?~ Each thought sped and finally struck him, and the picture of the whole situation slowly rebuilt itself, as the small pieces fit in together.

He risked taking a look around. A short one. Yes, if he was fast enough, maybe they wouldn't notice, or so his weary mind reasoned.

He lay on a worn, grey cloak, in a small platform high in the mountains, it seemed. Some things were pilled up next to him; nor his eyes nor his mind could quite make out what. Though, by the colour and fashion, they were most definitely not of the goblins. Most odd... whose cloak and things were they? And why did he had the feeling he should know them? Where were the fell beasts? He ventured a better look around.

Nothing, except... Some distance off, there was a black blur. ~Ai! There they are, the goblins! Indeed they are here!~ The blur moved and started coming towards him slowly. Legolas waited patiently for it to come closer, dread filling him. And then...

"Mornië?!... Mornië!! Mellon [friend], what are you doing here? Ai, how I am glad to see you! What happened? Where are we? What came to be of those evil creatures?!"

The mare, seeing Legolas awake, simply nuzzled him gently and sweetly with her nose, as a sign of reassurance and also to show him how happy she was that he was well.

In return, he thanked her and patted her head, and then, leaning onto her he tried to stand. She eased his movements, leaning close too, in turn. He felt disoriented as a sudden rush of blood flowed into his head. He held Mornië tighter and she distressed.

Legolas understood the horse's reactions and promptly assured her he was well. Now he could have a better vision of his surroundings. There were no signs of goblins anywhere, not even any signs of a fight that would explain their strange disappearance, and still there was that strange light from the night before. He decided to leave those questions for the moment, he would consider them later. For now, he would tend to his injuries; there didn't seem to be any immediate danger.

Nearby flowed a quiet stream of pure crystal-clear waters, coming down directly from the high, icy peaks of the mountains above. Despite the height, its shores were covered with green grass, glistening with the night's dew. That's where he was standing, on the grass, near a couple of lonely and sad trees that dipped their lower branches in the water.

He asked Mornië to help him to the stream. The mare complied. As they moved, Legolas watched her for any injuries. There were none and he was grateful, for he loved her more than any other steed he had ever had.

She had been a wild strayed horse, whom the elf had saved from some angry spiders when she was but a colt. When he had left, though, she had followed him all the way, until at some point of the road, one of his companions had turned back to the young mare, trying to get her to go back, but she had kept going. However, when it had been Legolas who told her to go back and live freely outside the perilous woods, she had gave him a sad look and turned back to where they had came from. He remembered looking at the retreating form with immense curiosity as to why she had acted so, as well as with a tinge of sadness.

Some time later, Legolas had been sent on a mission to destroy some spiders' foul nest that was located too near the Elven Realm for safety. Things had gone terribly wrong, and the Prince had been separated from the rest of the group. Since he had no more arrows, and his knife would not defend him for too long against such a large number of spiders, he'd made for the borders of the great forest.

He had been moving carefully, always listening to what was going on around him, making sure the spiders were not setting some trap. He knew of many who had fallen that way, especially unsuspecting wanderers. The spiders would watch from afar, tangling their webs as if building walls between the trees. The loner would be trapped between their webs and, before he knew it, some spider had bit him, leaving the poison to work. But Legolas knew of this and, therefore, paid attention to everything. He heard something move nearby and looked for the source. A shadow had come from between the trees, but then, he'd recognised the form to be that of a horse and, better than that, he knew which horse it was. She'd allowed him to mount and took him from the dangerous zone and back to the group.

After that, she was going to leave again, as Legolas had bid her to before. She'd been walking slowly and with an absolutely miserable look, when the elf understood the puzzle that had set into his mind the first time he'd met the mare. And so, he did what he thought was best, for he, too, had grown rather fond of her.

"Mornië!", he'd called and, as if it had been her name since birth, the mare had turned and trotted back next to him. And with that single word, a friendship had been made.

As he got to know Mornië better, he'd found that she was quite like him in more than one way. She was a 'rebel horse', if you could call it so. She had a most strong, as well as stubborn will, and a spirit of fire, but also a deep sense of duty and loyalty towards those for whom she cared. Physically, she was a fine horse; not the fastest, but a most resistant one. She was as black as a Rhîw [Winter] night and just as vigorous, hence her name, Darkness. Her eyes shone with the same radiance the stars did in those nights, and her bearing was a proud and noble one. Indeed, sometimes Legolas wondered if the Valar had not sent him this mare themselves! She was gentle to all elves, but somewhat weary of others. But she would let none mount her, save Legolas or, with reluctance, some other that the elf bid her to, unless, of course, need forced her to.

Presently, however, when he reached the small riverbank, he let himself drop to the ground and splashed some water into his burning wounds. He could not help to gasp, as he saw his reflection in the clear waters - scarred, bloody and very bruised. He almost didn't recognise himself. Footsteps were heard, breaking Legolas' troubled line of thought. He instinctively turned to look at the source of the sound and, inevitably, winced in pain as he did so.

"Now, now... easy Thranduilion [son of Thranduil]! No need to get so alarmed! You were in quite a bad shape when I found you. Well, to be honest, you still are. And you look terrible, my Prince! What would your father say about that?" The elf smiled and let out a long breath, not only in relief, but also in amusement at the words spoken.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir! I should have known, what other would cause strange lights to come out in the middle of night! Ai!, no more do I care for physical wounds, as they can be healed in time! It is because of you that I cry in joy! I know not the will of the Valar, but I thank them and you Mithrandir for releasing me of the goblins' hold! And my dear friend, as for my father... right now, I could not care less! Well, perhaps not only now... I have always paid little heed to most of his words!..."

"Then I shall leave, young one! Let it not be because of me that your wounds have worsened! I have tended to some, but your back and leg I have not touched nor cleansed, and walking around is the last thing you should be doing, my stubborn friend! Let me see to them now and afterwards you may do as you please. I have long gave up even attempting to tell you wilful young elves what to do and perchance your father should as well..."

He knew the elf to be merely jesting and he'd responded in kind. Legolas respected and loved his father and King immensely, even though sometimes they did disagree on some matters. Outsiders would not call him the Crown Prince of Taur-e-Ndaedelos, for he and the King could be very different, and Legolas purposely ignored his rank at times. Things at Mirkwood were very different from the other realms indeed, Mithrandir mused. On other occasions, though, Legolas could also truly be his father's son, especially when angered or annoyed. The istar [wizard] smiled kindly and then moved to clean and dress the many injuries that covered the elf, for it had not merely been the 'back and leg' that were left unattended, but practically the whole body. Removing the sand was especially painful, even with Mithrandir's skill. All of the grains had to be taken out, otherwise there would be the danger of infection, even with elven healing.

Finally, when all was tended, Mithrandir gave Legolas some waybread and water, along with some strange herbs that would counteract the poison - according to the ithron [wizard], it was intended to prevent the wounds from healing - and left him to rest peacefully the rest of the day, assuring him that they were perfectly safe where they were. There was no need to move out immediately, for it would be some time until the goblins attacked again, if indeed they were to attack.

Legolas was most grateful to Mithrandir. He did not even wish to consider what he would be going through right now, had he not been rescued. Mornië, too, was filled with joy, now that he was well. She never left his side. And so, happily following the istar's advice and inwardly laughing at his last comments, knowing them to be well true at times, Legolas gave in to a dreamless and blissful slumber, lulled by the memory of the kind, gentle voice he'd heard; this time, in the elves' natural way, mingling reality with the world of elven dreams and pushing all his troubles aside for the moment. He felt exhausted and the last thing he remembered thinking, was that he had to ask the wizard about what exactly had happened the night before.