Note: Thanks again to all those who took the time to drop a quick review. As always, kind words and wishes back to you all!

Part 9

He never considered himself craven, and those who knew him, or met him in passing, would most likely support this view of himself. It was with great confusion, therefore, that he sat cross legged on the cool grass inside the tent, the world around him dark and oppressive as the hanging lamps burned down low. He could not make himself fall into what constituted sleep for the race of elves, nor spur palsied limps to move. He was paralyzed in a disconcerting concentration on the coming dawn and their departure for the village. His father, at his insistence, had gone off to oversee preparations, leaving Legolas to what he thought would be welcomed solitude. Now mired in an almost silent and still panic he regretted his decision to send him away.

It seemed the very thought of returning to the scene of his humiliation and interment was enough to do what standing at the very steps of Mordor itself could not. The only other time in his adult life he could recall suffering such fright was at the approach of the Balrog while trapped under a cursed mountain. That the feelings welling up inside him at the prospect of returning and facing those men who wronged him was comparable to those when faced with a creature of fire and shadow, a bane to all his kind, both confused and shamed him. His only comfort was that his father and Gimli would be at his side.

Aragorn. Aragorn would not. Legolas was not sure he would ever be again, for once the Gondorian king was told of their actions, once he discovered he was purposefully left in the dark and dismissed, he was not sure he would ever forgive him. He would be astoundingly angry, there was no doubt in his mind. His reaction would most likely rival the destruction of the Orodruin, visible by the inhabitants of Valinor itself.

He was brought from his thoughts when suddenly a tentative weight settled on his shoulder. He startled in alarm, unable to stifle a slight cry, blinking wide eyes in the dimness of the tent to see Lenwe crouched over him. The other's hand was pulled tight to his chest where he must have jerked it back in equal surprise at Legolas' reaction to his touch.

"Forgive me, my lord," he said, face shuttered and sad. "I did not mean to surprise you but you did not respond when I called your name, I thought you were deep in reverie."

"Perhaps I was," Legolas murmured, relaxing his bow taunt muscles.

"I should have thrown off those dwarves and sliced my way to your side and out of that accused place!" Lenwe suddenly declared fervently as he looked upon his prince.

Legolas graced him with a doting smile. "The attempt would have been admirable but failed in the end, and you would have found yourself buried by my side."

"Better by your side than not, it was my duty to protect you and in that I did fail."

"None could have foreseen what occurred," Legolas attempted to sooth him.

"Your father did," Lenwe pointed out.

"He has ever been able to chart my spirit's path. My distress must have been so great it flew to him before its very conception," he mused.

"Or the Valar sent him the vision that he might go to you and wreak vengeance upon those who would harm you. As he has done and will do."

Legolas smirked. "Who could argue with such reasoning?"

"The dwarf and that man," Lenwe exclaimed only half jokingly.

"Which man? I have been in contact with many these past few days, a fact which pains me greatly."

"The lord of this land, Faramir."

Taking a proffered hand to help him rise to his feet Legolas tugged on one of the dark braids hanging over Lenwe's shoulder. "Be careful, if you malign him you will have to deal with his wife. She would gut you and feed the entrails to her horse."

Lenwe wrenched his head to the side, pulling his captured hair free of Legolas' grip. "I would like to see her try."

"Oh no my friend, utter not such words, she is fierce," he warned.

"I dealt with you and your rampage today did I not? After that a woman with her skirts hiked up and a sword in hand is but a gnat to me!"

Legolas sobered quickly at this.

"I am sorry about that, Lenwe," he apologized. "I was angry and I know not why. Such fury is not in my nature."

Lenwe shook his head. "Such fury is in all our natures," he explained. "Even the field mouse will turn and bite, given the proper circumstances. As to why, we all know full well; 'tis that town and that girl and the shadows of injustice. But it will soon pass for retribution is on the horizon trailing on the rays of the morning sun."

Legolas raised an eyebrow and Lenwe laughed, clapping him once on the shoulder.

"Dawn breaks, my lord. We prepare to leave!"

Startled Legolas stood still for a moment, focusing. Surprised, he perceived the approach of daybreak. He must have sat on the ground reflecting much longer than he thought. It would appear dark thoughts could indeed consume one to the exclusion of all else.

Slapping Lenwe on the shoulder as well, he smiled at him. He would fear no longer. While darkness abounded it always fled with the sunrise.

The sky was lightening but the sun had yet to rise up from the far horizon as Legolas and Lenwe made their way to where the horses were kept. All around them the campsite was dismantling, fires extinguished, and tents folded up and away. The entire party would be leaving the city behind. Thranduil did not want to leave any of his people separated from the rest, to fend for themselves once Anragorn was warned of the situation. They would all go to the village, meet up with the contingent of warriors left stationed there, and leave together for the woods once their business was concluded. All long before the king or any of his men could arrive to muck matters up. If, after all was said and done, Faramir attempted to renege on his land grant to Legolas and his colonists he would find mere words insufficient. While a merry and quiet folk, once something was perceived as belonging to the Silvan elves it was near impossible to take it away. Why simply ask those minions of Sauron who occupied Southern Mirkwood…if any were left alive of course.

They heard Faramir's voice before they saw him.

"You expect me to accept this condition?" he said testily.

"Of course I do, for if you do not you will not be coming at all," Legolas heard his father's voice reply. "You will be quite safe, I assure you, we shall protect you if needs be."

"Why do I not find this comforting in the least," Faramir fumed, turning to look at Legolas and Lenwe as they rounded a tent to join the assemblage.

There stood Faramir, the magistrate, Gimli and Frer, as well as Thranduil and two of his commanders.

Sidling up to Gimli's side Legolas leaned down to whisper. "What are they arguing about now?" he asked.

"The soldiers Faramir intended to bring with him were turned away at the edge of the camp. Your father said he was not going to allow Gondorian soldiers to accompany them to the village, no matter how small the number," Gimli relayed.

"Faramir was deceiving himself to think otherwise," Legolas scoffed. "You should count yourselves lucky that the magistrate and Frer are permitted to come along."

"They were present during certain events," Gimli explained. "Your father insisted they come."

"Ah," Legolas sounded as he straightened.

"Speak no more of it!" his father finally raised a hand. "You will do as I say or we shall leave you behind. It was out of deference to your authority over these people that I am allowing you to come at all, do not make me regret my decision."

"If you respect the fact that they are my responsibility than you would allow me to handle the situation!" Faramir practically stomped his foot in frustration.

"If you would settle the situation in the manner I wish it to be settled then I would!" Thranduil shot back before turning away from Faramir completely; dialogue ended.

"My heart, your rest was poor," he stepped over to Legolas and rested his hands on his shoulders, peering into his face.

Legolas tipped his head in acknowledgement. "I was restless, yes."

"Returning to the village worries you," Thranduil stated.

Legolas tipped his head further.

"Worry not," his father grinned, squeezing the muscles under his hands. "You are amongst your people now, and even have your dwarf friend here." Looking over to Gimli and Frer he shrugged. "There are two of them at that. Though I know not how this improves things."

Gimli scowled up at the elven king, Frer following suit once he realized Gimli was not a smoking pile of ash beside him.

Just then a pure ray of light streamed to bathe them all and the little group turned to the East.

"Mount up," Thranduil ordered as he watched the first fragment of the sun rise from the ground beyond them. "Anor shows its face at last."

The command was relayed along the camp and soon those elves with horses swung up onto the backs of their eager mounts, while those on foot settle light packs upon their shoulders, buckling weapons in place.

Lenwe walked over to Legolas, both his strawberry roan and Arod in tow.

"Thank you," Legolas said as he ran his hand up Arod' velvet mussel. "Ready, Gimli?" he asked the dwarf making ready to help him up onto the horse's back.

"Frer and I shall share a mount, Legolas," the dwarf replied.

"What?" Legolas asked confused.

"Éowyn was kind enough to lend us a calm mare of hers, a gentle spirit willing to suffer two sacks of stones bumping along her spine," Gimli jested. "Besides, I doubt any of your kin would endure a dwarven bur as well as you do."

"Faramir could…" Legolas trailed off.

"In his present mood, do you think I would inflict Faramir on poor Frer? Or the opposite for that matter?"

"Are you doing this because you are vexed with me?" Legolas finally asked.

"No, ladie," Gimli replied quietly. "I swore to stand by you and shall not break with that promise. I am simply being practical."

"Since the moment I met you," Legolas agreed, leaping up onto Arod.

"Sorry I can not say the same for you," Gimli gruffed. "Damn flighty you wood elves are, I can tell you that."

Legolas looked down at him, flashing a mouthful of white which sparkled in the morning sun, one ear trained on his father behind him as he ordered the party to begin its trek.

"Yes, but even the field mouse has teeth."