A/N: Before we get started, I forgot to give credit where credit is due in the last chapter. The poem that Bilbo and Elrond recited was lifted straight out of The Fellowship of the Ring, from the chapter called "Strider". It was, of course, writted by J.R.R. Tolkien, although Biblo takes credit for it in the books. :)

Legolas stood on the landing of the outer stairs outside of Meduseld and stared out at the surrounding plains. It was night and inside the Golden Hall there was a celebration that he really should have been attending. After all there was much to celebrate. Merry and Pippin had been safely recovered from Isengard and were now back in their care. Saruman and the traitorous Wormtongue were imprisoned in Orthanc, under the watchful guard of the Ents. Now there were warriors, both living and dead, to pay tribute to. Hope had been restored to Rohan, thanks to their bravery and the victory at Helm's Deep.

Helm's Deep, it seemed, was the place where a lot things changed. He ran his thumbs across the tips of his fingers. They were still cool, though not as cold as they had been that day on the battlefield. On the day the life of the eldar had left him. He thought about going to Mithrandir to get some kind of conformation, but there was no reason to. Legolas knew in his heart that he was mortal now. Only a week or two ago that thought would have made him tremble with fear. Now he accepted it, bitter and sweet, as the only way he could truly be with Aragorn.

Thinking of Aragorn stirred another internal debate: should he tell his lover about this turn of events? Legolas had bound himself to Aragorn without even knowing it. He couldn't imagine the ranger hating him or turning him away, but that was little comfort. What if Aragorn was resentful of the fact that the bond had been forged without his consent? He couldn't bear to one day look into the eyes of the Man he loved and see only bitterness about the obligation he would feel to stay in the relationship, no matter what. 'Don't do this now!' Legolas told himself firmly. 'There is no reason to doubt Aragorn's love now.'

Besides, there was the war in the east to consider. Now wasn't really the time to complicate their quest any more than it already was. There was a great enough burden on Aragorn already with the spreading shadow and the malevolence in the east. Legolas knew that, once he knew about his mortality, Aragorn would blame himself for what had - and will - happened. The man needed to go into combat with a clear mind, not with the guilt of Legolas' eventual death adding to the load.

While Legolas argued with himself, the celebration inside had ended. The last few days had been emotionally draining for Aragorn. He'd lost dear friends at Helm's Deep. By the Valar, did rejoining the world of Men mean that his past life with the elves had to die? Being just now faced with Eowyn trying to control her feelings for him and Mithrandir's fears for Frodo and Sam's well being had pushed him almost to the edge. He needed a little time and space. Fingering his long-neglected pipe, he decided to head outside to smoke.

He took a deep breath as he stepped out onto the landing and caught sight of Legolas. Aragorn had been surprised when his lover didn't show up at all during the festivities. Of course, he wasn't used to the rowdy celebrations of the Rohirrim, but he assumed the elf would have at least come to observe the tribute to the fallen soldiers. What had kept him away? 'My pipe's waited this long,' he decided. 'It can wait a little while longer.'

Legolas made no move or sound of acknowledgment when Aragorn walked up beside him. "What troubles you, meleth?" asked Aragorn with concern.

"The stars are veiled," answered Legolas tensely. "Something stirs in the east; a sleepless mass." They exchanged a glance and Aragorn grew even more worried when he saw the elf's troubled eyes. Legolas quickly looked away. "The eye of the enemy is moving."

"That's not all you're worrying about," observed Aragorn. "The eye of the enemy is always moving and searching. That alone wouldn't keep you from the tribute to the men and elves that died."

"Aragorn, I -" Legolas' voice broke off. He took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "I love you so much."

Were those tears in the elf's eyes? "And I love you," Aragorn told him, cupping his cheek. "You can tell me anything."

Legolas kissed the palm against his face. "There is something you must know," he whispered, feeling his resolve breaking.

"What is it?" begged Aragorn.

Legolas opened his mouth to answer and was hit with a feeling such as he'd never felt before. The closest comparisons he could make were the feeling of impending doom he felt in Moria when the balrog came and at Amon Hen as the shadow and threat grew on his mind. The overwhelming dread and fear now could only mean one thing. "They eye of the enemy," he gasped. "Aragorn, he is here!"

"The palantir," Aragorn realized in horror. "That's how he and Saruman communicated and now it's here."

"The hobbits!" cried Legolas, grabbing his arm. "He might see them and think one of them is the ringbearer. Come!"

They raced through the halls of Meduseld to where the remnants of the fellowship and a few others were quartered for the night. Throwing the door open, they were greeted with a horrifying sight: Pippin was clutching the glowing palantir with both hands. His little body was writhing in agony. Aragorn lunged forward and grabbed the orb, his mind focused solely on freeing the hobbit from the enemy's torture. The effect was immediate; Aragorn went rigid. He was suddenly in Barad-dur, standing before someone he couldn't quite see...

Legolas grabbed his lover's arms as he staggered back. He had to dislodge the palantir from his grip, but Aragorn wasn't letting go! The man collapsed, half-pulling Legolas to the floor with him. Any bumps and bruises either of them received was worth it, though as the seeing stone was finally jarred from Aragorn's grasp. It rolled across the floor, exposing who-knows-what to the enemy until Mithrandir threw his gray cloak over it.

"Fool of a Took!" shouted the irate wizard.

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked Aragorn.

"I think so," responded Aragorn as Legolas pulled him to his feet. "I don't think I was there long enough for him to see me. Pippin..."

They both turned to Pippin. The poor hobbit was lying motionless on the floor. His eyes were open and unseeing, giving him the eerie look of a corpse. Mithrandir placed his hand over Pippin's face and mumbled a few words. The words apparently had the desired effect: Pippin gasped and started to revive. When his eyes fell on the wizard, he burst into tears. "Gandalf, forgive me," he begged, looking away in shame.

"Look at me," demanded Mithrandir. "What did you see?"

"I saw a white tree in a courtyard of stone," Pippin told him as he struggled to control his terror. "It was dead."

Aragorn hung his head as Pippin recounted his visions and the horrible encounter with Sauron. He had been strong enough not to give the enemy his name, nor tell him anything about Frodo's quest. Having experienced the power of the palantir himself, Aragorn knew what courage that had taken. But his visions of a burning Minas Tirith were devastating; the White Tree, one of the very symbols of the kingship of his line, was dead. How was he going to save and renew something that was already dead? He clasped Legolas' hand and wondered why it felt so cool.

##################

"By some strange stroke of fortune," Mithrandir announced the next morning to an audience that included the remaining members of the fellowship and Theoden, "Pippin's foolishness has given us a glimpse of the enemy's plans. He is going to strike at the city of Minas Tirith."

The wizard turned his gaze to Aragorn. "Saruman's defeat at Helm's Deep showed him one thing," he continued grimly. "He knows that Isildur's heir is still alive. He fears that, as he cannot right the Men of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne." Mithrandir turned his gaze to Theoden and his voice was lace with urgency: "When the beacons are lit, Rohan must be ready."

"Tell me," the king responded petulantly, "why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

Aragorn stared at him with anger and disbelief. He thought Theoden was over his martyr complex by now! "I will go," he vowed.

"No!" Mithrandir told him.

"They must be warned!" shot back Aragorn. His future with Legolas, his promise to Boromir, the freedom of Middle Earth - it all seemed to be slipping away.

Mithrandir stepped close to him. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road," he said in a low voice. "Look to the mountains and the black ships." With one last meaningful glance at Aragorn, he raised his voice for all to hear. "Understand this," he announced. "Things have been set in motion that cannot be undone. I ride now for Minas Tirith. And I won't be going alone," he added with a Look at Pippin.

With a swish of his robes and a "Come, Peregrin Took!" Mithrandir left the throne room with the hobbits at his heels. The Men of Rohan, except the king, quickly dispersed and Gimli followed them out, hoping to get some food. Aragorn sighed. "I suppose we should go and make sure Merry will be all right," he said to Legolas.

When Legolas didn't respond, he turned and saw him staring at Theoden. His face was passive, but Aragorn knew the look in his eyes. He'd first seen it at the age of ten on the archery field all while Elladan thought he could easily best his little brother in a shooting contest.. Legolas' mind was churning and he was getting ready to strike. "My love?" asked Aragorn.

"Go," said Legolas, not taking his eyes of Theoden. "Make sure Merry doesn't try to follow them to Gondor. I'll be there in a moment."

Aragorn nodded and took off after the hobbits. Theoden, for his part, didn't seem to notice Legolas' stare. He still had his eyes on the door Mithrandir had passed through. "It does not become a king to pout," Legolas informed him.

That got the king's attention. He turned his glare on the elf. "Pardon me?" he asked in that condescending tone that Legolas hated.

"You heard what I said," Legolas told him simply. "And your attitude doesn't become a king either."

"I have never been spoken to like this before," Theoden growled.

If his intentions were to intimidate Legolas into silence, he was wasting his breath. "Is that the problem?" he asked. "Well, allow me to rectify that now."

"I won't tolerate this in my own throne room!" warned Theoden.

"Yes, you will," replied Legolas firmly as he stepped forward. "What do you owe Gondor, you ask? Do you blame them for not riding to your aid when you sent out no word that you needed help?"

"They knew," Theoden insisted stubbornly. "How could they not see our enemies closing in around us?"

"You are not willing to ride to their aid without them having done something for you first and yet you think they should have come to your aid under those circumstances?" asked Legolas. He charged ahead without bothering to wait for an answer. "These times call for loyalty and leadership, not childish games! You should count yourself lucky that not all the free peoples of Middle Earth hold themselves to your rules. What did the elves owe Rohan?"

Theoden's face flushed. "That's not -"

"Not what?" interrupted Legolas sharply. "Not the point? Not the same? No, I suppose it's not. After all, the elves are leaving Middle Earth. They could have departed and left you to your doom, and instead they stayed to help and were slain for their troubles. There are more direct and less painful ways to get to Valinor than by the weapons of an uruk-hai."

Theoden looked down. "Do you think," Legolas continued, "that Rohan will be unaffected by what happens to Gondor? If Gondor falls, so will your people. Why do you want to make it easier for Sauron to win by letting him fight his enemies one at a time?"

"Is there anything else, Master Elf?" asked Theoden icily.

"Yes," said an undaunted Legolas. "Don't ask what Gondor owes you. Think instead of what you owe Aragorn and Mithrandir. Aragorn is the heir to the throne of Gondor and yet you are refusing to help his kingdom after he saved yours. Mithrandir saved you twice, first from Wormtongue and then by bringing Eomer to Helm's Deep when you refused to do so yourself. He's worked long and hard to stop the enemy and doesn't need you hindering his efforts by refusing to do your part."

"I am the king of Rohan -"

"Then act like it," asserted Legolas. "I may not be king of Rohan, but the king of Mirkwood taught me in words and actions that one needs to put aside one's childish impulses and do things they don't want to do for the sake of station and their people. Let me pass on my father's lessons to you: stop acting like a martyr and do what you have to do to save your people."

With that, Legolas spun around and followed Aragorn's path out of the room, leaving Theoden behind to ponder his words.

To be continued...