Disclaimer: The fact that I didn't wrote Lord of The Rings pretty much makes this a moot point, right?

Author Notes: Oh…so many reviews! I am so happy I could dance! I won't though, 'cause that'd be a bit...sad. Thank you all guys! And yes, I will repeat myself. English is my second language so I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly

Ancient eyes bored into his, and silence reigned after that question was spoken. Unsure, Legolas searched Galadriel's face, seeking the answers he could not seem to find. He knew of her mirror, of course. It was a known fact that she had it. That she could see into it. But none ever spoke of what one saw upon its gleaming surface, nor did Galadriel ever share her Visions beyond what necessity dictated. Why offer him such a gift, then? Galadriel said nothing to his hesitation and Legolas saw no answer upon her features. It seemed the Lady of the Wood had a mask of her own.

"Are you willing to look into the mirror, Legolas Thranduilion?" She repeated the question softly, and the younger Elf felt trapped, unworthy to accept, yet unable to refuse such an offer. "You will see what the mirror wishes you to see upon its surface; future, past, present at your disposal. Do you wish to see any of this, Prince of Mirkwood?"

Legolas did not answer for long minutes, standing as if frozen in front of the mirror of Galadriel. He was afraid and was not beyond admitting to it. His mind was burdened with turmoil and guilt; there was little he could wish to see through such a device. The Prince remembered clearly the test Galadriel had subjected the fellowship to upon their arrival, and wondered if this could be another one. Was he to be faced with his demons? Was he to be offered a way out that would expose his shortcomings? Legolas felt he could not risk it, resolute as he was to leave Lórien in silence. He did not want to further disgrace his father. But the words to refuse would not come, and the mirror beckoned him; surrounded it was by the light of the glade they stood in.

//You are unworthy of this.// he thought with defeat, taking a hesitant step back.

"The mirror holds no judgement, son of Thranduil. And if it is my view you question, then you may rest assured of your worth." Galadriel told him, breaking into his thoughts. Legolas was nonplussed at her intervention but the Lady did not acknowledge his surprise. "Seeing is both good and perilous. Here you stand, able and suitable to make the choice. The question remains, are you willing to look?"

Legolas blinked, letting out a breath he had no realized he was holding. Galadriel waited patiently for his decision. The younger eld raised a hesitant hand to touch the stone edge of the mirror, looking deeply into it, as if even empty, it might hold the answers he sought.

//Do not look//

He glanced back at Galadriel, looking into her wise eyes in silence.

//Don't do it//

And nodded.

//Foolish. As always, nothing but a foolish little prince, playing a part. You are not worthy to see. However will you handle what it shows you? Whatever images it conjures up, they are perilous. They will destroy what little strength remains in you.//

//Is that so bad?//

Galadriel inclined her head in acknowledgement, gliding gracefully closer to the nearby stream. With water from the stream Galadriel filled a silver ewer that for that purpose stood. With it, she carried the water to fill the mirror's silver basin to the brim, and breathed on it, and when the water was still again she spoke. "Here is the Mirror of Galadriel," she said. "Feel free to read its will upon its surface."

Legolas nodded once and looked blankly at the mirror before approaching cautiously. With a hesitant step he came to stand next to the basin and giving it no further thought, the younger Elf into it looked, seeing the still waters gleam dark as ebony.

In them, he saw only his reflection.

//The mirror tells no secrets to the lost. Unworthy.//

Suddenly, though, the stillness of the waters was disturbed. As if a dark veil had been withdrawn, the Mirror grew grey, and then clear. Images replaced the blankness, and there Legolas saw himself, walking alone through the darkness night. There was blood upon his clothes and he seemed to stumble as he went forward. Immediately, with a great weight upon his heart, Legolas recognized the place. It was the exit of Moria, the place where the fellowship had grieved, however briefly, the fall of Gandalf. In the Mirror, his image was tracing back the steps they'd taken to leave, walking inside the very cave. Legolas understood without a doubt what he witnessed was the future that awaited him.

Troubled and bewildered, Legolas almost looked away from the revelations unfolding, aware of the Lady's sharp gaze that assuredly saw all. It was the very musical voice of Galadriel, however, the one to stop and urge him on. "Watch, son of Thranduil. The mirror shows many things but never reveals unnecessarily."

Legolas did no answer, but his gaze remained upon the Mirror, though his thoughts were muddled by uncertainty and fear.

//Coward//

The images in the Mirror did not yet change, and Legolas could see himself standing in the mines, looking down the endless chasm where Mithrandir had found his end. His figure in the vision was battered and obviously deeply affected by grief, for he was openly crying. His movements were jerky and awkward, as if injured, and he did not carry his bow or knives in sight. Hysteria shone from his eyes as he stumbled the last few steps forward, standing now at the very edge.

Shadows moved in the background of the mines, as if the thousands of orcs and goblins were gathering around the walls, watching Legolas' plight. Arrows began to rain down around his figure then, but the Elf in the Mirror seemed unaware of anything, seemingly whispering things to himself in aparent madness. Legolas, watching such a thing, felt a cold shiver of fear racve up his spine, terrified that what the Mirror showed would be his future. In the vision, he seemed- gone. Then the figure at the mines leaped forward into the darkness, making the breath catch in Legolas' chest as he watched the derranged smile on his own face as the image of him fell.

// Is that-// But the thought was cut off as the image in the Mirror wavered, then shifted, showing now a haunting scene.

A battlefield. Countless bodies lined the earth and Legolas could see in their garbs that too many of them were human. The remains of the battle were horrific as limbs and blood seemingly invaded every surface. The sky above the scene was dark and stormy, making Legolas suddenly think of Mordor. Images flashed by in quick succession, an army of ghosts evaporing into thin air, the last look of a slain young human with the warrior garbs of Rohan, the Nâzgul sweeping down from the sky, a woman's dead body in the midst of battle. Then the worst of it came, when Legolas recognized some of the Fellowship among the dead. He gasped, moving forward, but Galadriel's held him back and her gentle voice came as an admonishment.

"Do not touch the water!" said the Lady and Legolas stilled, almost looking away as Frodo's body was shown to him. A dark shape loomed among the dead, taking form before his eyes and Legolas was suddenly sure he was seeing the Lord Sauron emerge victorious and the pang of grief he felt almost brought him to his knees. Grey took over the image in the mirror, then black. Thinking it was at last over, Legolas went to move away, but then he was sure he saw a shape through the darkness. A small figure, moving, then two shadows, one large and the small one, fighting each other in uneven combat. And then he saw the smaller shape take human form, before the darkness slowly parted to let it shine through.

Mithrandir -dressed in white -stood there, smiling at him.

The image blurred then, as if the water had been disturbed. Once more, grey, then black took over the pictures in the Mirror; Legolas soon found himself looking at his own reflection on a font with water, like nothing had happened.

Shocked, unbelieving eyes raised themselves slowly from the Mirror to look into the face of Galadriel. The wise features of the Lady seemed to soften for a moment, and a gentle- if cold- hand touched his shoulder in support, giving him a moment to absorb what he had seen. Feeling lost, Legolas opened his mouth and found he could not think of the words to understand what he'd seen.

"What- Lady. Was it- Mithrandir?" was what finally came out of his mouth, but Legolas was too bewildered to feel ashamed for his lack of coherence or his choked voice. Galadriel did not scorn him for his shock, gently leading him away from the Mirror to walk with him back into the forest of Lórien. She did not speak for a few minutes, studying the younger Elf before her with an air of sadness that was not lost on Legolas.

"I know what it was that you saw," she said; "for that is also in my mind. Do not fret, Thranduilion, for the Mirror shows future paths that may never come to be. It also shows hope, when its light has been forgotten. The Mirror does not counsel but it does reveal. The paths you travel in the end are forever of your own making." She paused then and stopped her walk. Numbly, Legolas stopped next to her and found her eyes sought his to read. "The voices of evil will seek to make us fail, for it senses purity and yearns to crush it. It sees, and I see it as well. Your inner light is strong, young one; the shadow has not dimmed it, but has turned it against you. Why do you allow it?"

Then the fair Lady was gone. Legolas stared after her, then shook his head, feeling his thoughts reel in confusion. Dazed, the Elf slowly sat on the ground and stared ahead of himself, seing nothing. Half of Galadriel words did not make sense to him. And yet the other half-

//She doesn't understand.//

//Yes, she does. She is the only one who does. Hope, she said, where it has been forgotten. Paths of our own making. She spoke to me, for she saw into my mind. And the Mirror. The Mirror showed me those paths.//

//She knows nothing of your grief; she knows nothing of the voice that called for you, of the fate you must fulfill. You were meant to die.//

//Galadriel is of the wisest of the Elves. She Sees, like none other does. She reads like none other can. I am an open book to her gaze and her words are not in vain. I must prevail. I must have hope.//

//Are you so willing to run from your call? The call that came in Moria with your name. The call that awoke the Balrog from the depths and sent it after your trail. Are you so willing to forget your guilt?//

//Guilt. Of course there is. But the Balrog was there for millenniums; to think it was there just for me is ludicrous. Surely, something else awoke it. Surely-//

//The Mirror has frightened you, princeling. Shown you your fate drenched in blood. And the fear makes you believe what your heart wishes to be the truth. You would escape your pain by merely telling yourself lies, interpreting words the way you believe convenient to lessen your own guilt. Pathetic. Weak. Cowardly.//

//I…I should not…//

Heavy steps startled him from his thoughts. Legolas realized with a start that they were very close; too close. He should have heard it coming earlier, should have realized-

"Master Elf?" The voice was rough and familiar, but none the less surprising to hear adressed to him in such polite tones. Legolas looked up calmly at the inquiry, as if he had not been startled, right into the face of one Gimli, son of Glóin. The dwarf stopped a few feet away from him, studying him wearily.

"Yes, master Dwarf? What brings you out so deep into the woods?" Legolas answered just as politely, crossing his arms in front of his chest and willing his dark thoughts away. Obviously uncomfortable, the Dwarf shifted his feet, words coming out sounding oddly hesitant

"I was- uhm, exploring and- well, Aragorn said…Agh, by Durin!" The Dwarf exclaimed suddenly, making the surprised Legolas fight back an honest smile for the first time since the mines. "I was looking for you."

Puzzled eyes lifted to stare at the Dwarf's own then, doing nothing to lessen the tense athmosphere between them. Past confrontations made Legolas fear the Dwarf sought him for yet another pointless argument, yet Gimli's disposition seemed different than on any other day.

"You have found me." Legolas stated unnecessarily when the silence stretched on. "What was it that you wished to tell me?"

To the Prince's visible surprise, after a short hesitation, the Dwarf chose to sit down on the ground with him. "The rest of the fellowship has been wondering where you keep running off to-" his gruff voice informed Legolas. "And I will admit to being curious myself."

Legolas nodded, accepting the answer for an honest one. He sat for a moment in silence, then looked on towards the distance, unaware that his attention was suddenly miles away from the conversation. "I go nowhere in particular, master Gimli. " He answered at length. "I just go."

Frowning at the cryptic message, Gimli was clearly not satisfied with his answer. Attempting a different tactic, the Dwarf recalled his recent conversation with Aragorn in the woods, startling Legolas with his next question. "Did you not speak with Lady Galadriel recently?"

"Aye, that I did." Legolas answered lowly, looking at him as if Gimli could know something more. The Dwarf looked back at him blankly, feeling strangely sympathetic to the Elf's obvious grief. Legolas, for his part, struggled to remain stoic, else his face betray his thoughts. He could not forget the images in the Mirror. "And now, nothing more than confusion plays on my mind."

//Nothing more?//

Legolas was startled when Gimli gave voice to the same question in his thoughts, and for a moment, he questioned if he had indeed lost his mind. "What was it you said?" He asked suddenly, startling the Dwarf; Legolas narrowed his eyes at him, and for a long moment Gimli was sure his words had been some sort of insult to the Eld.

"I asked if confusion was indeed all, Elf." Gimli said, surprised at the intense reaction to such an innocent inquiry. "You look distracted and seem to be distancing yourself from the rest of the group"

"Nay." Legolas was quick to deny, looking elsewhere. "'tis nothing but my thoughts."

With a frustrated sigh, Gimli mumbled something and Legolas trained his eyes back on him, strangely insulted. "I am not a 'Crazy Elf', master Dwarf." He stated coldly, even as his mind responded. //Aren't you, now?//

"You certainly seem like one." Gimli easily traded his concern by annoyance, seeming now more like the Dwarf Legolas recognized from their journey together. "You answer nonsense to my questions, go wandering alone and then hear nothing while I talk to you!"

"Oh, I hear." Legolas answered testily, his voice the only outlet for the emotion that did not show on his features. "That does not mean I must care for what your words are, son of Glóin."

"I was merely stating the truth." the Dwarf was quick to counter, now angry himself. Legolas felt a sense of dissapointment he could not understand at the quick descent of the conversation into an argument. "Since Moria you are nothing like the warrior you seemed to be before. If anything, you look-"

//Weak//Coward//Insane//Alone//

"-pained." Gimli finished, unaware of Legolas' turmoil. "But do not worry, crazy elf of Mirkwood; you hide it well. Had I not seen your expression a few minutes ago, I would not know how you felt."

A whisper stopped the dwarf from storming off and leaving the Elf to his own thoughts.

"Nobody knows."

Cold blue eyes locked with his and the Dwarf felt suddenly weak. With a sigh, he read the confusion in those pools of ice, and said what he thought, like was his custom."It seems to me that not even you know."

Silence followed those words, as Legolas looked away.

//How did you know that?// He wondered silently, studying the face of the Dwarf after a moment in silence. //Perceptive.//

And the woods of Lothlórien saw a new friendship begin.

The fellowship remained some days in Lothlórien, so far as they could tell or remember. All the while that they dwelt there the sun shone clear, save for a gentle rain that fell at times, and passed away leaving all things fresh and clean. The air was cool and soft, as if it were early spring, yet they felt about them the deep and thoughtful quiet of winter. It seemed to them that they did little but eat and drink and rest, and walk among the trees; and it was enough. Legolas was away much among the Galadhrim, and after the first night he did not sleep with the other companions, though he returned to eat and talk with them. Often he took Gimli with him when he went abroad in the land, and the others wondered at this change.

After much of the grief and the wariness had abated from their minds, the Company was again summoned to the chamber of Celeborn, and there the Lord and Lady greeted them with fair words. At length Celeborn spoke of their departure. Discussion arose regarding the fellowship's next destination and Legolas kept silent through most of it, still unsure whether or not he should leave the company behind. Their days in Lórien had drawn to an end, and it was obvious that -should he wish to leave- the time was then.

On their last night in Lórien, however, Legolas chose to remain. Gifts were brought to the Company in Celeborn and Galadriel's behalf, cloaks, broaches, lembas and boats, among special gifts granted to each of them in particular. Legolas received his bow and was grateful for the gift, mind feeling somewhat lighter than it had in days before. He and Aragorn had spoken and he and Gimle were now friends. Galadriel gave him one more gentle smile, full of hidden meaning, before the fellowship set out once more.

And as Galadriel bid them farewell, she noticed the shadow still inside one member. It had not been defeated- it lay merely diminished for the time being, waiting for weak spots to thrive in. The whispers of shadow came to her, but she could do nothing to drive them away, for the battle was not hers to fight. As it was, Galadriel Saw and she Heard, but none other knew what she did.