He stood at the brink of an abyss, a strong wind sweeping around him, blowing long, blond braids about his face.

The darkness before him was welcoming. It seemed to reach upwards and pull at him, eager to fold him into an embrace.

Yet he was afraid of it.

Behind him was light. Light and warmth and the sound of familiar voices. They seemed discordant and jangling. He did not wish to turn and move toward them...yet somehow sensed that they would be better than the welcoming dark.

" Legolas."

The blond elf started. This was the first time one of the voices had become clearly legible. He almost turned, but could not tear his eyes from the abyss.

" Legolas, I know you can hear me."

The prince's eyebrows drew together in a frown. Where did he know this voice from? " Yes," he replied, wishing to hear the speaker again. " I can hear you."

" Turn, and face me, prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas flinched at the command; his shoulders hunching as though the words had been a whip aimed at his back. He closed his eyes tightly at the title the voice addressed him with.

Prince of Mirkwood.

He was not fit for the position.

" I...cannot." He whispered.

" Cannot...or will not?" the voice queried.

" Cannot," Legolas snapped. His feet edged a little closer towards the abyss. He felt annoyed now. Even more so when he realized that he was indeed lying to the strange voice behind him. The abyss pulled more eagerly at him, and the elven prince longed to step completely over the edge...

A hand closed over his shoulder, shocking the blond elf. He had not been able to feel another's touch for what seemed like a very, very long time.

Instinctively, his own hand flew to the hand that gripped his shoulder, closing over it, longing for the touch of another...

" Not that way," the voice said sternly. " Not yet."

The hand...Legolas suddenly went cold. The hand was strong, obviously elven...and there was a ring upon its finger. A ring with a stone set in it.

Suddenly he knew where he had heard this voice before.

'Valar,' he thought in despair. 'Sweet Eru! Give me orcs...'

The hand started to turn him around.

'wargs!'
It did not brook with the feeble resistance he offered.

'A balrog!'

A hand caught at his chin as he attempted to look at his feet instead of meet the others' eyes...

'Ringwraiths?'

Legolas stared into the gray eyes of the Lord of Imladris.

'Death by lecture...tragic.'

The barest hint of a smile tugged at the Elf lord's mouth, as if he guessed what thoughts passed through the young elf's mind. " Tell me," he said seriously. " Why do you stay in darkness?"

Legolas bit his lip and averted his eyes. " I see no light, hir nin. Everything is darkness."

" Young prince..."

The elf prince winced openly at the title.

'you will not be fit for the position...'

" I am no prince," he said harshly. " I am not fit for my position."

" Your father thinks otherwise."

Legolas laughed, and was surprised to hear how cold and bitter it sounded. " Let him tell me so himself."

" He has." Elrond smiled sadly and removed his hand from Legolas' shoulder. " You have not been listening."

Legolas frowned, his brows knotting together. He had been listening, but all he had heard were murmurs...Elrond's voice was the first to become clear...

" You did not hear," the elf lord said in quiet rebuke, " because you did not wish to." He stretched out his hand and took Legolas by the arm. " Come. I will show you."

Legolas closed his eyes tightly.

When he opened them, he gasped in surprise.

He was standing in the healing wing. Lord Elrond stood beside him, a hand still resting on his shoulder.

It was night. Stars shone through the large windows, combating with the guttering flame of a single candle.

Before them stretched a bed. Legolas nearly choked when he saw his own body lying upon it. He glanced at Elrond, confused, but the Lord of Imladris merely shook his head and held a finger to his lips.

The door swung open silently.

Legolas really did choke this time as he saw the elf that entered.

He was tall, and blond hair flowed back over his shoulders. He seemed very uncomfortable in this place, but forced himself to draw near the bed. Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the wounded prince's bed. His hand reached hesitantly, stopping just short of stroking back Legolas' hair from his forehead.

For a moment, it seemed as thought time had stopped.

The Legolas standing next to Elrond felt his throat close. " Ada..." he breathed.

As though he had been awaiting that signal, Thranduil's hand came down. Legolas saw his eyes close, and tears well up into the corners.

" Ion nin," The Elvenking whispered brokenly.

Legolas turned away, desperate to be free of the vision.

Another swam before his eyes. Still in the healing wing, the only difference was that Thranduil looked more haggard, as though he had sat in that position for many days.

" He has," Elrond answered Legolas' unspoken question.

Legolas squirmed uncomfortably.

"Melethon le," Thranduil spoke softly to his unconscious son. " Tithen pen nin."

Legolas groaned and shut his eyes tightly. " Stop," he grated between his teeth. When Elrond did not respond, the elf prince ventured to crack open an eyelid.

He was back, standing on the edge of the abyss.

Somehow, it did not seem so welcoming anymore.

" You see?" the Elf Lord asked quietly.

Legolas swallowed hard. " Yes," he whispered.

Elrond's keen gray eyes seemed to bite into him. " And?"

" Please," the fair-haired prince sank down to the ground and drew his knees in close to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. " Give me time to decide."

Elrond sighed deeply, worry and concern tracing their way over his features. " I will give you time, young one. I cannot force you to make any decision. I will however warn you,"

Was it his imagination, or was the voice growing less distinct?

" Do not take a great amount of time."

No, it was quickly fading into the constant murmur of the other voices.

" The longer you stay, the harder it will be to come back."

Legolas looked up, and was unhappily surprised to see that Elrond was gone. He was alone once more. The abyss yawned before his feet, the light shone at his back, and he sat miserably between the two.

He had a choice to make.

-----------------------------------

Thranduil looked at Elrond anxiously. The Elf Lord removed his hand from Legolas' forehead and heaved a great sigh, as though exhausted. Indeed he looked as though he was ready to drop. Wearily, he started to rise.

Thranduil leapt forwards and caught Elrond as the elf's knees gave out. " Elrond!" The Elvenking hastily helped his friend into the armchair. " What happened?"

" I've done what I can," Elrond murmured. His gray eyes looked past Thranduil and fell on the Mirkwood prince. " It's up to him now."

----------------

Legolas shuddered slightly, Elrond's last words floating through his head.

' The longer you stay, the harder it will be to come back.'

He did not want to return, but he didn't really want to stay either. The longer he stayed, the less welcoming the abyss seemed. Likewise, the light seemed more and more friendly. Since Elrond had left, he could hear bits and snatches of what the voices behind him were saying.

He swore he could hear his father.

'He fades, Elrond.'

" No," Legolas whispered. " I'm still here."

'He fades and I can not reach him. Curse my foolish words!'

Legolas felt tears well in his blue eyes as he heard the despair in his father's voice.

'How can I bear this? How can I bear to lose him, when I have already lost his mother?'

The elven prince could not stand it. He knew his choice now. He made to stand---but his feet slid beneath him. His eyes widened. " No!"

'He fades, Elrond.'

He had stayed to long...the choice was taken from his hands.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid backwards into the embrace of the dark.

" NO!"

--------------------------------------

Elrond's eyes narrowed. Something was not right. He rose from his chair and moved to Legolas' side.

Thranduil straightened up anxiously in his own chair. " What is it?"

The Elf Lord was grimly checking the prince's pulse. " His breathing has slowed. His pulse has slowed as well..." He grasped Legolas' uninjured hand in his own. " His hand is cold." Slowly, he met the stricken gaze of the Elvenking. " We're losing him."

------------------------------

Legolas clung to the edge tightly, but could feel himself slipping further and further. Despair pulled at his heart, weakening his fingers. It was too hard to fight. It would be so easy to just...let...go.

He was holding on with only the tips of his fingers now.

Now only one hand.

-------------------------------------

A deep sigh escaped Elrond's lips. Gently, he released the elven prince's limp hand and turned to the father who stood beside him. Tears pricked his gray eyes. " I am sorry, Thranduil."

The blond king shook his head weakly, as if he could refute what Elrond would say.

The lord of Imladris felt his heart break at the look of grief that spread across his friend's face and wished with all his heart that this had ended differently.

" He is gone."

" Legolas..." Thranduil's voice was desperate, his blue eyes searching the still form for any sign that Elrond was incorrect.

All at once, it seemed the grief came crushing in on him. The Elvenking gave a cry like a wounded animal and covered his face with his hands. He would have fallen had not Elrond caught him tightly.

" Legolas..." The elf groaned. " Ion nin..."

" Come, mellon nin," Elrond said, his voice rough with emotion. " Out of this place at least."
Without a word, Thranduil allowed the dark haired elf to lead him away.

0-0-0-0

Melethon le, tithen pen nin- I love you my little one

Ion nin- My son

Mellon nin- My friend

Ada- Father(daddy)

0-0-0-0