A light breeze caught a strand of Legolas's fine blond hair and blew it across his cheek as he stared out across an expanse of jagged mountains. The air was cold and damp about him and patches of thick fog had settled gently in the valleys like handfuls of goose down cast carelessly to the wind. The Misty Mountains earned their name that morning as Legolas left the foothills and turned toward the pass, climbing in earnest now. His horse, Embryn, was eager and took on the treacherous trails without hesitation.

Legolas slowed the animal however, indulging in a moment to look about him at the beauty of the mountains. The early morning sunlight stained the peaks a soft pink. High above his head towered a sharp ridge, its rough surface tinged with red and black with a few tenacious pine trees clinging on to tiny footholds. These trees seemed to survive on bare rock and he marveled at the cleverness of nature, to make a home where it would seem nothing could live.

As Legolas pressed on, a cluster of fine wooden houses came into view, and he dismounted. A gigantic man rose from the porch of one of the buildings and lumbered over to him. He was of the Beornings, the legendary men who had long watched the High Pass.

Legolas produced a small pouch from his saddlebag and handed it to the man in silence. The Beorning emptied the coins into one huge, callused palm and counted them quickly. He looked up and met Legolas's eyes with a solemn and surprisingly intelligent stare.

"I do not know if today is a good day to challenge the mountain, Sir Elf. The sky looks rather angry over the pass."

Legolas glanced over the Beorning's meaty shoulder as the man continued, "We could surely offer you lodging and a stall for your mount so you might try for better luck on the morrow."

The elf spared him a thankful grin, "I appreciate your counsel, friend. But, I fear my errand is too urgent for me to wait."

The Beorning nodded his bearded head in understanding and stepped aside, "Then may the skies be merciful until your task is done."

As Legolas continued down the muddy trail, the sky roiled above him, gray-black clouds churning restlessly. Legolas sighed but rode on undaunted. It did not appear any mercy would be forthcoming.

* * * *

Legolas paused, brushing wet snowflakes off of his face. He turned back to his horse. Legolas was leading the poor beast by the reins, as it watched with woe and near envy the elf walking easily on top of the soft snow before it. Legolas rubbed the horse's cheek gently as the animal nudged his chest. "I will not leave you behind, my friend. Fear not, we will conquer this together. I think we are through the worst of it."

His words seemed hollow even to his own ears. Legolas glanced anxiously up at the wide ridge above them, and foreboding filled him, like a cold lump of lead in his stomach. The deep snows of the mountains were unstable in spring as they thawed, and the pass led them across a bowl- shaped valley rimmed with high peaks. They would be completely vulnerable as they crossed it, subject to the whims of the ancient mountains.

"Come, Embryn," Legolas ordered gruffly, and the horse trudged after him across the valley. The snow was falling more lightly now, and finally the sun emerged. It warmed the blinding, endless white of the snow. Legolas started as he heard a crack, knowing the snowpack was shifting on one of the ridges. He urged the exhausted horse more quickly. He regretted for a moment that he had not taken the Beorning's advice, that he had not stayed in their settlement until conditions improved.

The prince felt his tension ease as he began the grueling ascent on the other side of the bowl. The trail zig-zagged up a nameless peak, carved roughly into the stone. The path was so narrow that Legolas and Embryn were one misstep from a precipitous drop that would make the hardiest being pale to think of.

Legolas was concentrating so intently on staying away from the edge, that he did not notice the sound right away. Then, he lifted his blond head slowly, gazing out across the expansive valley as a dull rumbling seemed to vibrate through the air. His jaw was clenched with fear as the sound began to build into a crackling roar. He pressed himself back against the rock face, his blue eyes wide. Across the valley, it looked as if the entire side of the mountain was falling off, countless tons of snow barreling down the slope. He watched in awe and horror as trees and boulders were torn from the mountainside, the uncaring mass of snow destroying all in its path. The sheer power of it left Legolas shaken. And, just as quickly, it was over. A disturbing silence settled over the land, and if not for the mass of dirty snow dotted with uprooted pines one might not even know that such fury had been unleashed only seconds earlier. Legolas tried to relax shoulders that had gone tight with alarm and gripped the reins tightly.

"Let's get out of these mountains, Embryn. Their charm has worn off for me."

Legolas and Embryn pressed on, until finally they reached the top of that rise and a series of switchbacks delivered them to lower elevations on the other side. They soon left the permanent snows of the alpine lands, the terrain becoming much less punishing. A small clearing lay before them, still the dull yellow of dead grass. Legolas imagined in a few months it would be a nearly blinding green and dotted with wildflowers. Finding a sheltered spot next to a large boulder, Legolas let his horse rest. It would be a short delay, however, for he knew Rivendell was close. He changed into dry clothes as the sun dropped below the horizon. A chill fell across the valley, and Legolas pulled his Lorien cloak tight about him. Retrieving Embryn, Legolas leapt atop the horse and urged it at a steady gallop for Rivendell.

* * * *

Legolas had nearly reached the bottom of the steep trail into Rivendell and he had seen no one. An eerie silence lay over the magnificent city, a tired surrender turning the air dull and dry. Legolas frowned deeply, dismounting as he crossed under a stone arch. It was carved like two beech trees whose branches met in the middle, crossing arms fondly. It showed the same astonishing detail as all of the architecture in Rivendell and was a remnant of a time of earlier glory. Legolas looked over the stairs and terraces, once bustling with elves and humming with energy. After taking a few more tentative steps, his gaze was caught by a lone figure watching him from a high balcony. For a moment, Legolas started, sure the solemn figure was Elrond himself. But, Legolas soon realized this was not the Lord of Rivendell, but rather his son, who stood watching Legolas with stony gray eyes. Legolas smiled, raising a slim hand in greeting. Elrohir finally raised a hand in kind, a smile spreading across his harsh face.

Elrohir unhurriedly followed the spiraling stairs to ground level. When finally he had reached the Prince, Elrohir approached with a wide grin. Legolas chuckled, gripping the elf's shoulder, "Elrohir, it is good to see you again," Legolas studied the elf's face carefully, seeing his features seemed heavy with worries and sorrows.

"And you, Legolas. Come, we will stable your mount and find you some food. Then we will talk."

Reluctantly Legolas followed. He wished to speak that instant of his errand, but he did not want to leave Elrohir so quickly. The elf was in pain, and Legolas hoped what little companionship he could provide might help him. Legolas had known Elrohir for most of his life. Although the relationship between their fathers had always been a prickly one, Legolas had gotten along well with Elrohir and Elladan on the rare occasions that they accompanied their father to Mirkwood. They were mischievous souls, and fit in well with Legolas and Talendil because of it.

Legolas glanced around the city again, wistfully, thinking of all that had faded before his eyes in recent years. Although new life had been breathed into Middle Earth after the Great War, there were people and places that paid dearly for it. He allowed his mind to wander for a moment, following the long paths of his life back to his youngest days. He remembered the carefree summers that saw two blond elf boys and one tiny dark girl darting between the trees of Mirkwood, their innocent laughter filtered by the thick leaves. He saw Talendil hoisting Moraelin into the branches, where she awkwardly climbed after him, never wanting to be outdone by her younger brother. What had happened to them all? What had happened to those times of joy and companionship? They had been dashed against the shore by the waves of time, crushed beyond repair. He looked up at Elrohir's back, held proudly but with great effort. His world was also being torn down around him by the juggernaut of change. And yet, he stood, against the odds. He reminded Legolas of the stunted trees on the mountainside. All around them lay bare, and yet they persisted, their will to survive greater than the forces that tried to destroy them.

When finally Legolas was fed, he joined Elrohir in a small sitting room that overlooked one of the spectacular waterfalls pouring down the sheer cliffs along the edges of the realm. Sitting in a softly upholstered chair, Legolas watched Elrohir in silence. The elf stood for a moment, staring into the rushing waters with narrowed eyes.

"Where is your brother these days?"

Elrohir's gaze remained transfixed by the falls in the distance; "He decided to accompany Grandfather to Gondor to visit Arwen. I felt I should remain...to watch over things here. He should return in a few weeks."

"How have you fared since your father sailed?" Legolas asked quietly.

Elrohir's gaze dropped for a moment, and his dark hair fell gently forward, hiding his face. "It has been difficult. More difficult than when Mother crossed over to the Undying Lands. For when she left us, Elladan and I were able to turn to our father for comfort. Now, we have no one. Just each other, and Grandfather." He sighed, finally turning to face Legolas, "I thought that I would never leave here, that the sea did not call me. But, I did not realize what it would be like to watch everyone else depart...how hard it would be to let them go. I did not imagine it would be so lonely here."

"Do you think that you will go one day?"

"I do not think so." Elrohir's voice was somber, defeated.

"You will not go because Elladan and Celeborn choose to stay?" Legolas asked softly.

"I do not think my brother could ever leave this sanctuary behind, it is far too dear to him. And, I cannot go without him. So, it would appear my fate has been decided. What about you, Legolas?"

Legolas smiled sadly, "Your Grandmother, Galadriel, warned me about the call of the sea. But, I did not heed her. Its pull is very strong on me now, but I have much yet to do here. I will resist it until I feel I have done what I must in this land."

"You are here about Moraelin."

Legolas's head shot up in surprise. It was not a question, it was clear Elrohir already knew it to be true. It would appear Elrond's great wisdom had taken root in his child, for he too could read people in an instant.

"Yes. What do you know of her?"

Elrohir sat in a chair across from Legolas, leaning back easily. It was clear he was glad to be talking about something other than his own troubles. "I know that Aldruid of the Dunedain was here two weeks ago and intended to search her out also. He was friends with Moraelin before the War, but he rode with the Dunedain to fight for Estel when it started. He is a cousin to Estel, their mothers were sisters, and now lives in Gondor in service of the King. He comes back every spring, to see Moraelin. It was he that brought her here when she was injured fighting orcs. She was hurt very badly, Father tended her for a few months before she could move on once again."

"Did Aldruid know where he might look for her," Legolas tried to keep the eager note from his voice, but Elrohir grinned lazily, knowing he had the Prince's full attention.

"He said she now stays mainly in an area called Dreary Vale. There is a small village there where she and Aldruid often stayed along with a few other Rangers. I could tell you roughly how to get to it, but I cannot promise she is still there. But, if you find Aldruid, you will find Moraelin."

Legolas nodded thoughtfully, his spirits lifted by this new information.

"Why do you finally hunt for her now...after all these years." Elrohir asked.

Legolas's face filled with sadness and frustration, "Talendil is in danger. He has been captured by Dwarves and I seek Moraelin to help him."

"I am saddened to hear that. But, you finally have your excuse to seek for her." Elrohir said, his granite eyes unreadable. Before Legolas had time to ponder this statement, Elrohir forged ahead.

"Tell me, Legolas, what is Moraelin's story? Not even Father knew how it could have happened."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked cautiously, his guard went up as it often did when the subject of Moraelin's lineage was raised.

"How did a Dwarf come to live in Mirkwood in the first place?" Elrohir's face was full of kind curiousity, and Legolas relaxed a little.

"My mother told me that although dwarf women rarely leave their settlements, Moraelin's mother, Kirali, was the child of a powerful chieftain and desired to travel. She was with a party of male dwarves traveling along the southern borders of Mirkwood when they were attacked by orcs. Captain Eregos and a few of his soldiers came upon them a few hours later on patrol, and all of the males were dead, but Kirali was just barely alive. Eregos's parents were both healers and by his talents he was able to save her. They fell in love and she stayed with him as his wife." Legolas's face clouded a little, "Kirali died bearing Moraelin, and a few years later Eregos remarried...reluctantly. I think he was so frightened by the prospect of raising a child alone he accepted Lady Ilianel with little thought. Talendil was born soon after. That is all there is to tell."

"An incredible tale, to be sure," Elrohir replied with raised eyebrows. "And it would have to be an incredible maiden that could burrow into the stern heart of Mirkwood's Prince."

Legolas blushed right to the pointed tips of his ears. Elrohir laughed heartily at this, "I tease you, my friend. She is strong and good, and I hope that you find her. Come, enough of this serious talk. I hope that when the sadness of these times subsides, the handful of us remaining in this valley can start anew, and laughter will be heard again in Rivendell. But, why must we wait? Let us speak of lighter things and laugh together, as we did in years past."

The conversation easily shifted to the antics of their younger days, Spring Festivals in Mirkwood and hunting trips into the mountains. And, for a few hours, the world did not seem dark and tired, they remembered the world of their youth, shimmering with promise. At least for a while, it seemed that way to them again.