Author's Note: Another chapter for you! (And just so you don't freak, in the next week I have three exams, three papers and an ethnography to read, so updates will NOT come, no matter what, until at least Friday.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three contented elf children lazed their way into the room, their stomachs full from the feast which had run late, their eyes slightly tired by the unceasing dances they had witnessed or joined in. The two older children carried goblets of water in with them, trying to help take the edge off the wine they had consumed, some of which they brought to me.

Seeing the state they were in, I decided it best to simply begin, though I vowed to keep an eye on them and be sure they were listening. "Not many years after that…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was not long after the war of the five armies that an unusual messenger came to Thranduil's hall. He gave a message to the king, and after the formalities were laid aside, he asked his way to the archery field. When questioned by the king, he replied he had been told to give another message to Legolas, the elder prince of Mirkwood. If he was not in the throne room, he had been told to ask after the archery field, for there the prince would probably be.

Thranduil chuckled at that, and ordered him shown the way.

The man, for human he was indeed, looked around the field, seeing several archers, all blond as he had been told the prince was. He was about to frown in discouragement when he looked at the targets, seeing only one was consistently hitting the center. When the elf doing so turned to speak to the she-elf beside him, the man knew he had found the right elf, for he and his brother, who had been in the throne room, did strongly resemble each other.

"Prince Legolas?" he asked, coming forward. Two pairs of eyes focused on him immediately as he moved to them, those of the female somehow more intimidating, despite the drawn sword the other held up.

"Speak quickly," she ordered, never looking away, though he found it difficult to hold her gaze long despite his upbringing.

"I was sent as a messenger from Imladris," he explained quickly. "I have a message for Legolas from Elrond and his sons."

Legolas lifted a brow, but took the letter. After a sidelong glance at the she-elf, he sheathed his sword and began reading after breaking the seal. His other brow joined the first, and a look of quiet determination settled in his eyes, the last hints of humor gone. Standing before the messenger now was a warrior who would one day be king, and the man knew it.

Legolas looked at the she-elf, then motioned at him. "Salan, meet Estel, ward of Elrond."

"Hope," she murmured softly, studying him for a long moment. "The world of men could use hope in these times."

Estel looked at her, assessing her and her position beside the prince. He recalled the way Legolas had looked to her before relaxing his defense. "You are the prince's companion?" he asked softly.

She laughed softly, lifting her eyes to the prince's. "I am his friend, and have been for many years. If you ask about the companion in his bed, then you need to discuss Lemarha with him."

Legolas frowned at her. "Salan," he protested softly.

She laughed again, touching his cheek lightly. "I told you long ago it is hard to be discreet as a prince. The walls do have ears."

"And they are most often yours, I've found," he replied dryly.

After laughing softly she bowed her head to Estel, then nodded slightly at Legolas. "I should be returning." She left before he could think to ask her to leave them be.

Legolas turned from watching her to study the young man before him. "You are quite young."

"Yes. The news you hold I was only recently told myself."

Legolas nodded slightly, folding the letter and placing it away. "Why did they send you to me, Aragorn?"

"They felt I should learn archery, and that you would be the best to teach me." He looked pointedly at the target, but Legolas shook his head.

"This is not a fair comparison. I have been doing this for nearly a thousand years longer than anyone now here. There are those in Mirkwood who are greater at archery than I," he added, looking at Aragorn in consideration. "But despite the things Salan knows, the things that are not spoken of are generally safe, even if my movements are known."

"I take it she is a great friend?"

"A great, and a wise one."

"Then she did know?"

Legolas chuckled softly, looking at the target. "Salan may never have been out of Mirkwood, but she knows of Elrond, and that a human messenger must be dear to him for him to have been sent here. Your perfect grasp of our tongue and the amount of time you could stand up to her tells her you are a being of strength and that you have long been in Elrond's care. He has spoken to my father of you, through letters alone, but walls do have ears, and whatever they hear ends up almost immediately in her head. If she does not know your name, I would be more surprised than if she did." He recalled the way she had bowed her head. "The world of men could indeed use hope."

Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor, found a friend in Legolas, and a mystery in Salan that day, and his archery lessons went well and quickly, though Aragorn was sometimes waylaid by elves who wished to know about him since he was human. One day he simply could not find Legolas, and even asking the servants in the palace did him no good. Finally in frustration he asked one, "What of Salan, then? Know you where she is?"

"Ah, yes, Salan will be in her room, working on stitch work for Gallanya's birthday cloak."

With a faint frown he followed the directions, knocking softly on the door. "It is open, Estel," she called through the door, knowing him by the noise he made because he was not an elf. She was sitting at a desk, material spread around her. "What do you need?" she asked, looking up after laying the needle and silver thread carefully aside.

"No one knows where Legolas is."

She laughed softly, glancing at her work. Then, with a shrug, she got up. "Come on." She led him down to the kitchens, taking a leaf wrapped object before leading him outside after being sure he had his weapons. She put one hand on her sword for an instant as the guard looked at them in question, before letting them pass. She walked quickly through the woods, never pausing to check her direction or listen, her dress trailing lightly behind her. She suddenly stopped, whistling a shrill tone, much like a song bird, but in pitch alone. An answering note came from not far off, and she turned her head, smiling faintly. She handed him the leafy thing she had gotten in the kitchens and pointed him in the direction of the noise, turning without another word, leaving him with only the memory of her faint smile to encourage him.

He sighed softly and walked to the sound's source, hoping this wasn't an elven joke of some kind he didn't know of. He got as far as he guessed the sound could have carried, and looked blankly around. "Legolas?"

A soft sound turned his head. An arrow stood next to a few others, the archer nearly invisible in the darkness, for a cloak was drawn about him. The archer turned slightly. "At least you brought your bow," he murmured softly, drawing closer. A slight smile tilted his lips when he saw what Aragorn held. "I thought it was her," he murmured, taking the bundle. After unwrapping it, he gave a piece of it to Aragorn.

"She seemed to be the only one to have an idea where you were."

Legolas smiled faintly, and returned to shooting. "I thought it would have taken her a little longer to hear."

"Hear?"

Legolas shook his head. "Nothing of lasting importance, Estel." With that, he launched into corrections and praises as the man continued learning the form of war Legolas so enjoyed. By the end of the day, they were both sure nothing except time and experience could improve the man, so arrangements were made for him to return to Imladris, where he would gather his things and say his farewells before going into the wild to find what remained of his kin.

Before they parted for the day, Estel caught a glimpse of Salan where she moved at the side of the hall, unnoticed for the most part by those eating within it. "How did she know where you were?"

"She usually knows where I go when I can no longer stand to be within the reach of those who would tie me down." Legolas's eyes lingered briefly on the lady Estel had been introduced to, the lady Lemarha. He didn't think it a good match, but said nothing then, for he knew it wasn't his place. Legolas turned back to him. "You shall be welcomed wherever I dwell, Estel, for as long as I walk upon this earth."

"Which shall not be long. Already many—"

"Leave these shores. My heart has not yet turned from the land of my birth, though." He shrugged slightly. "Being the eldest, I may remain here when my father first goes, keep the stragglers in order until there is no choice but to cross." He frowned slightly, pinning Aragorn with a look. "But that all depends on the future."

"Doesn't everything?"

Legolas smiled slightly, seeing the promise in the lad before him. "True. Farewell, my friend."

Not long after that, Estel was gone, and Legolas found his way to Salan's room. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Why I was where I was."

She frowned slightly, then smiled faintly. "I didn't know the reason you were there, Legolas. Just that that was where you would go if no one knew where you were. Since then I have heard rumors…" She smiled at his disgruntled expression. "What are you going to do?"

"Sleep on the balcony," he muttered, shaking his head. Lemarha had move many of her things into his room after their single night together. "What made her think—"

"You did. How many years have you given her some of your time? Last night you gave her more. She thinks it to be a sign of things to come, rather than the amount of wine you consumed." She frowned sternly at him. "And since I warned you your ears were getting rosy, I don't really want to hear about how you were drunk and didn't know what you were doing. You felt like getting tipsy."

He sighed but didn't respond, because she was right on all counts. Of course, since the wine usually made it easier for him to stand Lemarha, he had ignored Salan's comment. He hadn't expected the wine would make it that much easier, though. "How about advice for the nearly ensnared prince who would still rather be free?"

She sighed softly and shook her head at him. "You should know all of the possibilities by now."

"I recall what you've told me in the past, but this is a new situation for me." He watched her with a pleading look that made him look about two hundred years old instead of close to three thousand.

She rolled her eyes and exhaled sharply. "Why must I get you out of your messes? Why can't you find a way yourself?"

Legolas frowned at her tone, as it was one he'd not heard turned at him for a long time. "Am I bothering you, Salan? Taking time you wished for something else?" Neither thought had occurred to him before.

She bowed her head and shook her head, slowly lifting her gaze to his. "No. But if I forever tell you what to do, how will you ever figure it out for yourself?"

"You aren't planning on being there for me?" he asked, yet another thing he'd never considered.

She tilted her head as she studied him. "What if I can't be? What if you get sent off somewhere and get in trouble there? Or what if I cross before you?"

He straightened at the last one. "You wish to cross?"

She shook her head. "No, but…" She bowed her head and sighed again. "It grows in my parents."

Legolas closed his eyes and swallowed, feeling like the selfish, spoiled little brat she had once accused him of being. He moved to sit behind her on the chest, pulling her back into his arms, wrapping them tightly about her. After a moment she sighed softly and relaxed, turning in his arms so she could rest her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, little one," he murmured, kissing her crown as he stroked her hair and back. "When do they leave?" he asked softly, knowing she would only get so agitated if it were soon. Thinking back on their conversation he winced, knowing he should have known something was wrong long before he had.

"They think to plan for the coming mid-summer's eve." She sighed softly and traced the silver pattern on his tunic, thinking of the time her mother had spent on it.

"Do they wish you to go with them?"

"Of course."

He frowned, trying to imagine what life would be like without her there, but found it impossible. After all, for all but two hundred years of his life he had seen her nearly every day. "Yet you do not wish to cross."

"No."

"Why?"

"I am not tired of this Earth."

"You know why they leave."

"Yes," she sighed, making an impatient movement with her hand. "They leave because the shadow grows ever stronger. They do not think about the world they are leaving behind as anything but a place of death and mortality."

"Then it is their time to cross. You are old enough to remain here on your own."

"I am unmarried. By rights, I should go with them."

He frowned at her. "Since when have you gone with what should be done?"

She sighed softly. "How can I refuse them, when I still exist as I have since I was born?"

"You have a place in these halls, whether they remain here or not. Do not doubt it."

A soft smile touched her lips and she slowly moved from his hold, getting up only to bend slightly, kissing his forehead. "Thank you, my friend. But I do not know what will happen." She picked up the piece of material she had been stitching and laid it aside, before turning back to him with the ghost of a smile. "What are you going to do?"

He smiled faintly, more concerned about her than his temporary problem with Lemarha. He shrugged. "I don't know. It'll work itself out."

She smiled at him, sitting next to him on the chest. "Why not have her things sent back to her room? As if she left them laying somewhere, have them returned as discretely as possible. Then lock your door after you do, so she can't replace the stuff while you're at dinner."

"You think she's that devious?"

For the first time, Salan laughed. "I think you'd best watch your back, lest the claws of a she-elf find their way deep between your ribs."

He chuckled softly at the image of himself impaled on claws, and tussled her hair before smoothing the locks back into place. "It will all work out in the end."

"In the end, yes, but when the story is about elves, the telling itself may take many days."

He laughed softly at her repetition of their nana's favorite saying before getting up. "Would it help if I asked Father to offer official guardianship?"

She looked up at him, a frown settling between her brows. Before she could complain, he interrupted.

"I will ask him to present it in such a way they don't feel you wish to be parted from them. Surely they understand your heart is still in our forest." When she smiled faintly and nodded he left her, moving to the throne room quickly to discuss just that with his father, only to find her father discussing their impending crossing, with Salan included in their planning.

Thranduil motioned Legolas away, but he hesitated only for a moment before intruding. "If I may ask," he murmured softly, "are you sure Salan wishes to cross?"

"Why wouldn't she?" he asked.

Legolas frowned slightly. "Her heart is yet here. Do you wish her to leave it behind before her time?"

"She has not wed, so her place is with her parents."

Legolas felt the floor quake beneath him, but managed to keep his voice relatively steady. "She is old enough to be a grandmother. Should she remain with her parents merely because she has no more found her mate than have I?"

The two elder elves exchanged a glance. "I believe she has spoken to you on this matter," her father said after a pause.

"I came from her room to speak with my father about it," he agreed softly. "She does not wish to cross, but does not wish to defy her parents either, nor to be separated from them. Still, her choice was to remain here."

"And what would you have spoken to me of?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Offering to take guardianship of her until she passes to the havens. I would offer myself, but I doubt it would be thought appropriate since we grew up together, and I would declare her the wisest of us two in many things." Sometimes he wondered if because of his travels, he had perhaps surpassed her in some things. After all, Aragorn wasn't the first human he had met.

The elves looked at the prince for a long moment, silent communication flaring between them for a moment. "Very well, Legolas. If she wishes to remain here, her mother and I shall allow it."

Legolas bowed his head, his eyes catching on Thranduil's for a moment. The king smiled faintly. "Your friend shall have to get used to being called Lady, if she becomes my ward. Perhaps it would be better that she remain on her own strengths and abilities."

Legolas smiled faintly and bowed his head again, turning to tell Salan the news.

And so it came to pass that Salan remained in Middle-Earth though her parents passed to the undying lands. Also, Lemarha learned not to over expect anything from spending a night with the prince. Actually, that didn't often occur, usually only when his ears had turned ruddy from wine, and his eyes ceased to focus perfectly.

The shadow grew in all corners of the world, Gandalf and the other Istari doing what they could to help stop it, often relying on some assistance from the elves which was sometimes willingly and other times grudgingly given.

The years of the great wars drew closer, and those elves remaining who either had the more sensitive high blood or the wisdom of such blood felt it, the slight shivering of light within them that battled to grow brighter to counteract the darkness. Salan grew more watchful, along with many of the others, those who remained on those shores, anyway. Legolas felt it as well, just as keenly as any other, felt it growing stronger, darkening their world.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I think that will be enough for tonight." They were listening intently, but once I stopped they nearly dropped with exhaustion, slowly picking themselves up to say goodnight and pass on to their rooms.

I could not help but chuckle.