The morning greeted them with weak, livid light and gloomy clouds overhead, veiling the sun. The dry rustle of old garbage floating by on the street, breaking the silence, woke Aragorn and Gandalf. They found Legolas maintaining his protection over them in a dignified silence that could be shown only by an Elf.

"Good morning," Gandalf greeted them and got up.

"Good morning," said Legolas over his shoulder. "Though there are not many things I foresee in this morn that will be good," he added.

Aragorn was saddened by the hopeless tone in Legolas' voice. Through his eyes, Legolas was still the boy who gave him hope when he thought there was none. To see such a hopeful and exuberant being so dispirited and resigned, even though he was feeling virtually the same depressing feelings, was more than what he could handle. He went up to Legolas and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. They stood in silence for a while, looking out to the barren landscape while Gandalf went to find some food.

"Have you lost hope?" Aragorn asked him after a moment. Legolas looked at him with his deep blue eyes questioning his question. By just looking in his eyes, Aragorn could see all the emotions and thoughts Legolas was having. He knew that his Elvish friend could see into his mind as well. "Have you lost all thought of life?"

Unable to peer into his eyes any longer, Legolas looked down and sighed. "I am afraid that I'm beginning to." He directed his gaze to the depressing image facing the alley. "Our chances of defeating the Darkness and rebuilding the Light do not fare well with us."

Aragorn looked out again to the land before them. On the surface, it was filled with the usual run-down, graffiti-tagged buildings with the expected decay of Darkness. The prolonged exposure to dead, disembodied corpses had somewhat desensitized the Fellowship so the scattered bodies didn't disturb them as much as they used to. The slums of the city were disturbing enough before the Invasion but now they sent chills down the Fellowship's spines and a sense of fear in their hearts. The terrifying thing about the slums was unseen and sensed rather than what met the eye.

"I can feel the Light fading," Legolas said. "I can feel it within me and all around us." He looked back at Aragorn. "Estel, we will not win this fight. It is hopeless."

Aragorn felt another pain in his heart then because he could now see sorrow and despair in the Elf's eyes. He knew that Legolas truly believed in what he was saying if such deep sadness had shown through.

"Legolas," began Aragorn, his comforting hand still on his shoulder, "haven't you learned? Hope is never lost, no matter how bleak and gray the stars may seem. It only feels like the Light is dimming and the Age of Darkness is near because you have given up hope that we will win."

"I have every right to despair. We have no army, no clear strategy because we do not know of war in this life. And I can see no beacon of light to help us see the path on which we tread. Estel, you must understand." Legolas leaned closer to him, blue eyes faintly lined with tears and dark shadows of despair. "We cannot win. We are going to die."

To this, Aragorn could not make a comforting reply. He just continued watching his friend's eyes slowly fill with tears in silence. He continued to think about how truly sad Legolas was and how much it hurt him that he couldn't help the one time Legolas needed it. To be of some minor comfort, he put his head on Legolas' shoulder and sighed.

Legolas exhaled softly and patted the hand on his shoulder in thanks. "Hope is still lost to me and I cry for the loss of so much good life. But, I am still happy that I still have such good friends as you and the others. As long as I am in your company, I will try to search for the hope to fuel my actions against the Darkness."

"You do not need to search, Legolas. Estel na' oira."

"Estel na' oira," Legolas repeated softly. Like a child seeking solace from a nightmare, he asked, "Do you promise me?"

"Oh, Legolas," he murmured, "lasto beth lammen: Lle ier nin a'maen mellon. Of course I promise you. We'll see this to its bitter end together, no matter what happens."

Legolas smiled and his eyes brightened with a stronger, renewed sense of hope. He tilted his head sideways so his would touch Aragorn's in a half-playful headbutt. "Uireb, mellon."

"Uireb. "

Frodo had woken up a few moments before and observed the sorrow Legolas was feeling. He was touched by the way Aragorn was so committed to supporting his dear friend even though he knew that he felt the same sense of hopelessness, if not to that extent. He was grateful that Aragorn, Sam, the whole Fellowship was so committed to each other and to their mission.

"Estel na' oira," he said to himself in reflection. "Hope is eternal. And it truly is, as are the bonds of friendship."

Both Aragorn and Legolas were startled by the sudden noise and whirled around. "Frodo!"

"I'm sorry. Did I interrupt something?"

Legolas scoffed and returned his gaze to the bleak world outside the alleyway. "Aragorn only wishes."

"Yeah, sure," Aragorn responded sarcastically. In addition, he swatted Legolas' head before checking up on the Hobbits and waking them up.

Frodo, who was already awake and was standing by the Mini when he interrupted Legolas and Aragorn, made his way around and over the vehicles to look out at the view with Legolas. He learned that Gandalf was out to get food and quietly stood there.

"Are you okay, Frodo?" Legolas asked concernedly. "You seem a little depressed."

At first, Frodo didn't reply and Legolas left him alone. He stood there, feeling the dead wind play across his face and letting himself get lost in what Legolas had told Aragorn when they thought he and the other Hobbits were still asleep. He didn't say anything, but his large, expressive eyes told his thoughts to Legolas without him looking directly at him.

"You agree with me, then?"

Frodo nodded vaguely. He knew that his thoughts were easy to read so he didn't need to ask how he knew. "I think you're right. But I find it a little harder to keep faith in ourselves."

Legolas chuckled. "It's easy to lose faith and hope in the side that really looks like it's going to lose. But you know what I realized?" Frodo shook his head. "If you don't have faith in yourself or in us, you'll expect to lose and you won't do your best. Next thing you know, your best friend is lying dead in another friend's arms."

Frodo was slightly taken aback by the bitterness of his voice in his last statement. He could see that Legolas' eyes were filled again with sadness and grief, but instead of hopelessness, there was regret.

"Legolas?" Frodo asked timidly. "Is something the matter?"

"Hmm? Oh, no." Legolas made a small smile and brightened. "It's nothing. Just... past issues."

"Legolas, if there's something you need to talk about, you can talk to me anytime. I swear I won't tell anybody."

For a second, Legolas was tempted to talk to him, but decided against it. He knew that his own dark feelings could be used to protect his friends. He knew that each of them had grown to think about each other's safety and condition before their own and would do anything to keep each other safe. Even if it meant facing certain death.

"Thanks, Frodo. But it's okay." He ruffled the Hobbit's curly hair. "You're a really good friend, you know."

"Yes, well, I thank you for the compliment and for messing my hair." In a futile attempt to straighten himself, he ran his hand through his curls but was foiled again by Legolas trying to lighten the mood with some childish roughhousing.

Gandalf eventually came back to the alleyway but with scant rations to eat, to the Hobbits' dismay. After a short breakfast of Gandalf's scavenging and Legolas' lembas, the Company started on their way into the dark areas of the city.

At the beginning of every day, they drove the cars and the bike to a new area of the slums to investigate and made a closer look around on foot. They searched during the day and kept hidden at night. Those who brought their Lorien cloaks shared with the others whenever it was needed to hide. To keep their movements hidden from the Darkness, they kept their guns in their holsters and their swords in their sheaths.

The hours crept by slowly, anxiously. Each building emanated a feeling of foreboding even though nothing but dusty ruins and dried blood were inside. Each street was a lane of death and listlessness, full of old hopes faded away. And, without their knowledge, each step brought them closer to the Darkness.

Hours felt like days. The depressing sceneries told them stories they didn't want to hear. They were stories they didn't want to know, didn't want to think about. But the cursed, damned voices of the past still told them, still forced them to remember.

Merry, Gandalf and Sam were inspecting one particular street that struck a nerve in Merry. They were crossing the street and he had looked down it for curiosity's sake. To him, it was as if time had slowed down and was showing him a home movie from ages past while he stood in the middle of the road.

A blurred bird flew past his eyes, transparent at first but growing solid with each movement it made through the air. The laughter of a child reached his ears, happy and carefree, faint but growing stronger. A soccer ball rolled onto the street, followed by several kids, all laughing and ready to play. As they ran down the street like time was running at half its speed, the kids spread their innocence and ignorance of any darkness of the world.

Merry looked at the street and took a deep sigh. The trees of the street had leaves on them again; the cars were still intact and shining cheerfully at him in the sun. Just down the street, a couple and their neighbors joyfully greeted the group of children and watched them play in the street. Beautiful shafts of sunlight poured into the neighborhood and washed away any dark thoughts any of them could have had.

All of a sudden, time stopped. All of them could feel it. The bubble of innocence was popped. The luxury of passive contentment and ignorance was shattered. They didn't just feel it; they knew it in their hearts.

Merry watched the sky grow dim and dark clouds roll in. He watched the sun blacken as, one by one, the faces of tranquility evaporated. The bodies crumbled and the leaves turned brown and fell. A single, immaculate boy was left holding the ball and looking around with tears streaming down his face.

"Mama!" the boy cried out. His voice was slow and distorted, but his sadness and desperation were still there. "Mama!"

But, the pure, young boy also disappeared and crumbled. An everlasting darkness settled in, feasting on the despondent souls of the lost and the pain of the separation of loved ones. The ball he was holding bounced and rolled away from where its owner was last seen.

It rolled and rolled only to come to a stop at Merry's feet. He looked at it and he could almost feel and see all the memories that the ball had been for the little boy. He sensed the happiness and sadness, all the victories and losses, all the tears and pain. But then he thought to himself: Are these the lost memories of the boy or are they the lost memories of myself?

He moved his foot to kick the ball, but he hit nothing but air. The soccer ball disappeared before his eyes and the real world swam back to his mind. Time started again at its regular speed. He looked at the forgotten neighborhood and its lost memories that mingled with his own.

Did it matter if the memories of family and security were the boy's or his? Did it matter whose souls were ruthlessly taken away against their own will? Did any of that matter?

"None of it matters," whispered Merry. He grieved for the boy and his family and for his own. "Souls were stolen and the blood of the innocent was spilled. That's all that matters to me."

Answering to Sam's call, he ran to catch up with him and Gandalf. A new flame had appeared in Merry's heart and he secretly vowed, on behalf of the lost souls, that he would never give up and that he would fight to the bitter end, no matter what became of him.

As that day wore on, each empty, silent, obsolete street they came to reminded Merry of the past. Each time he remembered, his heart renewed his vow. He glanced at Sam once and saw a pained look on his face as they looked down the street. He asked what were his thoughts.

"How sad this place feels," replied Sam. "These people had such high hopes for each other and they were taken away from them against their will. Now, because of the Darkness, those dreams will never come true."

They walked behind Gandalf in silence for a moment, listening to the soundless tales of the area.

"The Darkness won't get away with this," said Merry with quiet determination. "As Galadriel said before, we're the Holders of Light, the ones who represent everything that's good and pure in this world. We won't let the Darkness prevail."

Sam smiled in hope that Merry's words would be true. He felt neither brave or strong but he felt the sadness in the world and he knew he was one of the few who could put an end to it. "The Darkness won't last."

Suddenly, Sam jumped, making Merry jump and let out a small shriek. He pulled out his vibrating cell phone from his pocket. "Holy fuck," he said softly before picking it up. "Scared the shit out of me."

"Same here," said Merry, "and I'm not even the one carrying it."

Sam picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Sam? Hey, the cells still work."

"Frodo! What news?"

"Uh... It depends on how you look at it, really." He paused to think about how to tell him but decided that the line could break anytime. "Just come to Davisville Station. All of us need to know about this."

"All right. We'll see you there." Sam hung up and relayed the message to Merry and Gandalf. They immediately made their way back to the Mini.

"Where are we going, again?" Merry asked.

"Davisville Station," said Sam.

"Davisville," Gandalf said heavily. "This is certainly news we will not soon forget."

--- ---

Lle ier nin a'maen mellon You are my beloved friend.

Uireb Eternally.

Sheep: Sorry to all of you readers who don't like to read fluffy things, but I just needed to show how depressing and hopeless it must've seemed to any of them. Since Legolas was staying up all night with no one but his thoughts to talk to, I figured why not?