Comments to reviewers:

Joee1: Thank you; I liked that part about his name as well. I think I read it somewhere on the internet, and just could not forget that pun. So as much as I would like to take credit for it, it's not mine.

Star-Stallion: Lmao, girl, that was funny! But I guess you're right, after this he needs a shrink, any volunteers?

Deana: Oooops, finally indeed. You guys probably hate my guts right now for leaving you hanging like that. Sorry! It wasn't a case of writer's block or anything, just an infection in my wrist, and I hate typing with one hand!

Silvertoekee: Who says it's Aragorn who helps the Elf to remember? winks

Miz Greenleaf: Lol, you and the rating. I know, but I describe some wounds and I just don't want to log in and see my story was deleted because it was too low rated. Stuff like that happens you know! The age of Legolas is somewhat of a mystery. I tried to look it up in the books, but either I'm blind or it's not in there. I know he was close to 3000 though.

Lady Janelly: Hmmm, no flashback to the conversation with Elrond? I tried to look at it, but I dunno, I feel like it flows together nicely like this. I didn't know any other way to make Elrond leave and yet make sure his patient is in good hands. But I'm always open to suggestions! Thanks for the input and thanks for reading.

MelanyeBaggins: you're a sucker for angst, lol. This chapter is a little lighter, don't worry and it has good news as well! See, I'm not all that bad…….cough

Shiloh Duvall: Beautiful name by the way. Yes, Aragorn is a healer and Éomer is not, I know. I wonder where I gave the impression that the Horse lord is one. Maybe if you would have read a bit more, you knew it hadn't been my intention and I didn't make Éomer one either. I wouldn't dare on making the characters OOC, really, I try not to anyways, lol.

The darkness of the night was soothing in a way. No longer was the threat of Mordor there, the glooming redness of doom had faded into nothingness. Even the air seemed less foul. It did nothing to lift the weariness of his troubled heart though; there was still this dull aching pain, even though the One Ring was no longer around his neck.

He was still tired, even after four days of resting. He knew his life would never be the same. How could he go back to the Shire, pick up his old life and continue like nothing happened? He would never be able to. Many lives have been altered by this Journey and many had given theirs.

Even from the Fellowship one was lost, the Steward of Gondor, Boromir. He had died a warrior's death, protecting Merry and Pippin from the large band of Uruk-Hai. He had not witnessed the death himself and he regretted not being able to say good bye to the brave Man. And then there was Legolas….

The fair Wood Elf still had not regained his memory, leaving him grasping at names or whisks of fleeting memories. He took it well, better then any of them would have. He listened patiently to their stories, the big blue eyes taking in all the details of those that called themselves his friend. There would be a frown or a puzzled look from time to time, the only indication he had not been robbed of his emotions as well. He would ask questions they all patiently and gently answered. It was not the same Legolas though, he no longer teased Gimli the Dwarf, the innocent jesting they had been so accustomed to was gone. He was silent and thoughtful, avoiding them when he felt he wanted to be alone, which was oft.

So he was not surprised to find a lone figure out here as well, standing on the wall and looking out over the lands of Gondor. He knew who that person was; he could see it at the slender figure of the other. Tall and straight the Elf stood there, his long blonde hair tucked away under the hood of a dark cape. It looked as if Legolas was cold, the way he was holding the woollen cape around him, hugging that thin frail body. He still needed to put on weight from his sickness, though he only ate meagre meals, barely enough to sustain him. Aragorn had told him it was normal for Elves, but to a Hobbit such as him, who enjoyed food, it seemed the Prince was starving himself. He found himself walking over to the Elf, his bare feet making a soft noise on the cold stones. At least he would not startle his friend.

"Are you not cold?"

The blue eyes did not even blink when he spoke up so suddenly in the still night; the pale fair face regarded him quietly before turning back to the previous position. There was no emotion on the familiar face, so unlike Legolas had been. For an Elf the Prince was quite open and in a way more endearing, his musical laughter a well known factor. To see him this still was unsettling.

"Nay, I am not cold Frodo. Aragorn has told me Elves cannot feel cold such as the Race of Men or other beings. To phrase his words; even if I would stand bare as a newborn babe in the bitter cold there would be no shiver on my body."

He smiled and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. It would be something the Ranger would say indeed, and to picture an Elf standing bare in the snow would raise a chuckle even out of the Horse lord. He could not help wonder how it came to be why Elves could not feel the cold, was it part of their immortality? They could not fall ill either.

"I see, that is very useful."

What else could he say? He had known Elves could stand cold; after all they had climbed or had tried to, the large white Mountain, where the snow was so thick he had not been able to walk himself but had been carried by Aragorn instead. He remembered clearly how Legolas simply walked upon the snow in only his tunic and leggings, without even as much as a shudder. How he had envied the Elf then…

"I suppose it is indeed Frodo. What brings you here in the middle of the night?"

There was another smile on his lips at the frequent use of his name. Legolas tried his best to remember and tried even harder to stimulate it. Aragorn made drawings of Mirkwood and Rivendell, the Elf's room was littered with the colourful leaflets. The two of them spend hours talking about the past, the adventures they had shared. It helped to establish the deep bond they shared once more, though not to remember. The Ranger even had postponed his own crowning, for he would not do it without his friend, his old friend.

"I could not sleep, my wound aches. I did not want to wake the others so I decided to take a stroll and clear my thoughts."

"It pains you once more?"

He nodded sadly. Gandalf had said the wound would not heal completely, a stab wound of a Morgul blade would never heal and would always pain him. Though it was a small burden to bear, in comparison to the Dark Ring he had worn for so long.

And he would have gladly given another finger if that was what destroyed Sauron. He could only be proud of what he had done.

"Yes, some days it is worse then………"

He stopped mid sentence to stare at the blonde Prince, his blue eyes wide and he knew there must be a silly look plastered on his face. He cared not, as he blinked, letting the previous words of his friend sink in. Legolas had noted the pause and turned to him with a worried frown on his face, tilting his head to the side to look him over.

"Are you well Little One?"

"Yes! I am, more then well! You remembered, unconsciously you just remembered a small part Legolas!"

Excitement rushed through him as he almost felt like jumping up and down and cheer. This was such good news after the last dark days. It was a small step, but a step in the direction of healing, Strider would be so happy to hear this. Delighted he wrapped his arms around Legolas, only succeeding in hugging the Elf's slender legs but he did not mind. He remembered!

"Frodo…….? I do not understand….."

He looked up when he had heard the confusion in the lilting voice and met a dumbfounded look of Legolas, who looked down at him as if he had just lost his sanity. The dark eyebrows were arched upwards and he could not help but laugh aloud. He was just so relieved.

"My wound has not pained me since you were injured, and yet you said once more and called me little one. Did you not?"

"I…….I did…..I did indeed!"

Realization dawned on the Elf as well as he too smiled brightly. He had not said it on purpose, it had simply slipped. He stepped back to look up at Legolas and grinned.

"Let us wake the others and tell them the good news!"

Tugging at his friend's hand he pulled the resisting Elf along. He cared not they were sleeping, this was important enough to wake them. They had the rest of the night to sleep, and mayhapse for once without dark dreams haunting them. It seemed the Fellowship finally were looking at a joyful time.