Disclaimer: If I am not even closely related to J R. Tolkien…is the book mine??

Author Notes: I won't stop saying this: Thank you, thank you, thank you to every single reviewer, and every single person who happened to drop by and enjoyed my story, even if she or he did not review (I'll admit to having a severe review craving, but thank you for reading)

English is my second language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes made on this story. Elvish is the way I believe it to be, with a ton of grammar mistakes. Quotes are taken from the book…and R&R please? You have no idea how happy you make me.

To answer a review I received, I will not wait until the end of the story to reveal Legolas' problem with detail, yet I do not know how far with this story I will go before I do.

Thank you to those 3 people who have added me to their favorite's list. I almost had a heart attack because of it, and loved every second of it ;)

Master in Deceiving
By Yours Truly

{There had been no price…}

It was under the light of that fair morning when King Théoden and Gandalf the White Rider met again upon the green grass beside the Deeping-stream. There was also Aragorn son of Arathorn, who observed the scene with his usual calm, his eyes discretely drinking in the sight of his friend, Legolas the Elf…smiling. The ranger's eyes attempted to meet the blue gaze of his friend, but the fair Prince was happily staring in the direction of the trees. It warmed Aragorn's heart to see his elven friend enjoying the trees, even if they were wizardry, like he did when they were both younger, in Rivendell or in Mirkwood. The ranger could remember several occasions when he had teased the elf for ignoring him in favor of a tree. With the smallest of smiles, Aragorn turned his own gaze to the strange trees that had helped them in battle.

{Perhaps, Princeling, you must not trust on your luck any longer. The price shall come}
{There was no price. I can feel not the pain…my heart feels lighter than under any moon we have passed on this quest. Something happened up there…}
{Yes, little one. Something did happen. And you should know by now that nothing comes for free}

There was also Erkenbrand of Westfold, and the lords of the Golden House. About them were gathered the Rohirrim, the Riders of the Mark: wonder overcame their joy in victory, and their eyes were also turned towards the wood.

Legolas' ears twitched when he caught the familiar sound. His smile brightened as another slight weight was lifted completely off his shoulders.

There was a great shout, and down from the Dike came those who had been driven back into the Deep. There came Gamling the Old, and Éomer son of Éomund, and beside them walked Gimli the dwarf, the owner of the heavy steps Legolas had easily heard coming. The dwarf had no helm, and about his head was a linen band stained with blood; but his voice was loud and strong.

{Do you see? It almost reached your friend. But it is you who must pay it, Princeling of Mirkwood. For you are the one who got the prize…does your heart feel good now, little one? Do your soul feels lighter?}

"Forty-two, Master Legolas!" Gimli cried. "Alas! My axe is notched: the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?"

{Aye, it feels better, I feel lighter. And I have agreed to pay for it}
{You will feel it when it is time to pay}

"You have passed my score by one," answered Legolas. "But I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!"

{So glad to see your life was not my price}
{Selfish}
{Uncaring}
{Heart of Ice}
{Nay…nay, I wish to pay now}
{Do you?}
{Aye, I cannot bear this. I wish to pay…whoever you are, my will is to pay you now}
{Since when, pray tell me, does your will matters to me? Since when does it matter to you for that matter? Selfish little one, you shall pay when 'tis time}

He heard the warm welcome the new arrivals received by everyone in the field, and he forced his body to react to the situation. Acting normal, hailing the soldiers that passed by him, and welcoming his friends as warmly as his thoughts permitted him. Luckily for him, it was enough, for the moment.

{Do you hear it?}

"Once more you come in the hour of need, unlooked-for," said Éomer.
"Unlooked-for?" said Gandalf. "I said that I would return and meet you here."

{All around this group, can you hear the voices?}
{Whispers…}
{Aye, whispers, do you hear their voices?}
{They…they cry}
{Can you hear why?}

"But you did not name the hour, nor foretell the manner of your coming. Strange help you bring. You are mighty in wizardry, Gandalf the White!"
"That may be. But if so, I have not shown it yet. I have but given good counsel in peril, and made use of the speed of Shadowfax. Your own valour has done more, and the stout legs of the Westfold-men marching through the night." Answered Gandalf easily, with a smile of amusement gracing his lips.

{They cry in agony…it does not reach me…what is this sorcery? The cries of the trees, they are, yet their pain does not reach me! Why does it not?}
{You shall know, little one, but I know you can hear their cries, if not feel their pain. What do they say?}
{They cry over the darkness, the shadow that is overcoming this place…that is overcoming the light…}
{You know there is more}
{…That is overcoming me…}
{You cause their agony, Princeling. Greenleaf…is that not your name?}
{What shadow?}

Then all the men gazed at Gandalf with still greater wonder. Some glanced at the wood, and passed their hands over their brows, wondering if their eyes deceived them, and they saw what the wizard did not.

Gandalf laughed long and merrily. "The trees?" he said. "Nay, I see the wood as plainly as do you. But that is no deed of mine. It is a thing beyond the counsel of the wise. Better than my design, and better even than my hope the event has proved."
"Then if not yours, whose is the wizardry?" said Théoden. "Not Saruman's, that is plain. Is there some mightier sage, of whom we have yet to learn?"

"It is not wizardry, but a power far older," said Gandalf: "a power that walked the earth, ere elf sang or hammer rang."

{This cursed nature! Those things are moving again, what business is this of theirs? Shepherds of the trees, so long asleep, they should have long ago disappeared this earth. Why do they meddle in business that is not their own. A men's war, no one else's, no other cursed creature should meddle in such a thing. They will not win this, they shall not beat two armies, not at once, and they cannot…}

Legolas froze. His thoughts blurred, and his muscles tensed. In the midst of explanations, no one noticed. It was not his voice speaking any longer, and they were words not meant for him. Those words were musings of a mind that was not his. The voice…so dark…

{What in the Valar's name are you? Whose thoughts were those?!}

Silence.

Deafening silence.

{What were those words?}

Nothing

{Answer me!}

Then a whisper came. And he recognized his own voice. He almost could not catch the slurred words running through his thoughts.

{Your price, 'tis your price, you felt good? Well you must pay for that, who are you to feel good? Nobody, you are nothing yet your soul feels lighter. Murderer! You would sell your very soul for seconds of well being, for mere wizardry? You would do that to your friends…they trust a traitor!} Yet that was not he.

{That was not my price! That was a mistake, your mistake! You are something, you are alive and you have…} his voice was desperate in his mind, and in the field his presence melted into the background.

Gandalf speaking, Théoden speaking…nobody noticed the elf with wide eyes staring at nothing.

{You have done everything, weakling! Not me! Do not attempt to relieve yourself of the guilt, relieve your being of the blame you have for every wrong that has befallen this company!}

{'Tis was a mistake of yours to let me hear that…}

{'Tis was a mistake of Middle-Earth to let you live! You do not deserve the light, you do not deserve the trees or the nature or the family you have or the abilities you were given. You deserve none. You have none. You have no power, no self-control. }

{Those thoughts were not mine…}

{You have not the strength that is needed to handle the truth. You hide behind the pretty lies you chose to hear. You are but a child, little one. You are a child that should not be amongst heroes and not even among the living. You are not an elf any longer, you are dead, and you are nothing}

{Lies, lies, and lies…you are alive, you are something, you try to fool me…}

{Lies is what you hear, what you chose to hear! I tried to save you, I allowed you to see yourself. But you are too weak; you cannot even handle your own reflection}

{'Twas a twisted reflection}

{The only twisted thing, is that you deny the truth behind my words. Can you not feel it, prince of Mirkwood? Can you not feel the strength abandoning you, the shadow luring you? You have sold your very existence in order to relieve yourself of the weight of your own actions, and you must pay, little one. You must pay with your existence, with your life, and with your light}

{Nay…}

{Do you not feel weaker?}

{Will not answer you…}

{I am you, little one. You have allowed me to become you, to become such a part of your being that you will not live without me, that you will not survive without me. Feel it, Princeling, the strength is leaving you, your burden is returning, is that what you wish?}

{Nay, nay, nay, you are not me…cannot be me…who are you?}

{Answer me, young one, do you wish the burden to return?

{Nay, but neither do I wish the help of shadow}

{What makes you think you are being helped by shadow? By some trick of the mind that has betrayed you since Moria?}

{'Tis was no trick…}

{Says you?}
{Stop this}
{You cannot handle it? You cannot even focus on what is happening in the real world, now}
{I know what has happened. I have heard, I can handle myself like I have done for millenniums past}
{Have you handled yourself? Or has everyone else done it for you, Princeling?}

The King sent messengers to Edoras. There the Lord of the Mark would hold an assembly of all that could bear arms, on the second day after the full moon. To ride with him to Isengard the King chose Éomer and twenty men of his household. With Gandalf would go Aragorn, and Legolas, and Gimli. In spite of his hurt the dwarf would not stay behind.

"It was only a feeble blow and the cap turned it;" Gimli said. "It would take more than such an orc-scratch to keep me back."

{And it shall take more than your lies for me to acknowledge you once more}
{You resign your strength, then Princeling? You resign to everything but yourself?}
{Aye}
{You do know I will not leave}
{Aye, but do not celebrate the fact. I shall know who you are, and I shall destroy you}

{You cannot even face yourself…how do you expect to handle, much less destroy, the unknown?}

It was then that this false strength left him, and without it, Legolas was barely able to stumble and lay down on the ground, next to the men that were resting now for the journey towards Isengard. Aragorn was startled, when he saw what he had not seen before: his elven friend closed his eyes.

But the elven prince did not see him…he just allowed a healing trance to overcome him, dulling the voice that still called to him.

{You shall come back to me}

To be continued.

For the advice of a friend, and the wonderful reviews I got, I have decided to leave this chapter as it is. I do want to thank Analorien, however, for correcting a few grammar mistakes in her review. Thank you! I need those corrections from time to time ;)