A/N: Thank you soo much for the wonderful reviews! I was grinning like an idiot for hours and couldn't stop myself from re-reading them over and over. I even printed them out to take with me to give me more incentive to write more. And thank God for it! It helped me to keep my sanity. So here's Chapter 1, coming to you from my computer as soon as I could get it here ( R. L. and my family kept making it difficult. VERY, VERY DIFFICULT). Lights!

Note: For full disclaimers and additional associated chit-chat please see the prologue. No, I do not own Lord of the Rings!

A/A/N: Oh and btw, this story is AU. I forgot to mention that before. Don't worry though. It will still stick to Tolkien's idea of the "ultimate end of the Fellowship in Middle Earth". I just decided to make the time between ROTK and then a little bit more interesting.

Chapter 1: Comings, Plannings, and Leavings

Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left
I don't know what stressed me first
Or how the pressure was fed
But I know just what it feels like
To have a voice in the back of my head
Like a face that I hold inside
A face that awakens every time I lie
A face that laughs every time I fall
(And watches everything)
"Papercut" by Linkin Park

Three days later...

The sky was growing overcast as the group made its way towards the White City. They numbered thirty in all. All but one was human, members of the White Company; the Steward of Gondor's personal and elite guard. The odd member of the group was one of the Firstborn; an elf. Legolas Greenleaf was his name, Prince of Mirkwood, which had newly been renamed Eryn Lasgalen, and Lord of South Ithilien. Normally the elf would have traveled alone, but since his destination was the same as that of the White Company warriors, he had accepted the invitation of their captain and joined them when they had chanced to meet along the road.

They were now crossing the Pelennor Fields and would reach the Great Gates in less than a half hour. Some of the men chatted softly amongst themselves as the wide expanse of the Fields passed them by, the green and gold grasses back dropped by the purple-grey visage of the distant mountains. Others rode in silence, some only adding a bit to the conversation when they felt they had need to or were called upon to by their companions.

The elf and captain rode to the front of the group. The captain, one Beregond, son of Baranor, was mostly listening to the conversation of his men. The elf kept to himself, only speaking when addressed by another. As is the habit of many elves he rode bareback. That is, without a saddle. He also rode without bridle, hackamore, or any other head restraint on the fiery light-grey stallion that cantered beneath him. Not that he needed them, for the Firstborn have a special relationship with nature and its creatures. Therefore he was able to control his mount with just his voice and a gentle signal from his hands or legs.

Presently they came upon the Great Gates as they were called. The massive white stone walls of the outer level of the city towered above them, the famous Gates themselves an almost impenetrable arched barrier of iron and oak. On top of the battlements men garbed in the black and silver of Gondor's soldiers either walked back and forth along the wall or stood gazing out over the Pelennor from stationary posts.

As they came within sight of the tower guards trumpets rang out to signal the gatekeepers of their approach. Normally the large oaken doors would be open this time of day, but with the increased threat from the Haradrim they were now being kept closed, and people entering and leaving the city taken note of. They halted a dozen yards from the wall. A guard on top called down to them, "Who's there?"

"Tis Captain Beregond of the White Company of Ithilien, and his men," came the reply.

"And Legolas, Elven Lord of Ithilien," Legolas added.

The guard looked back behind the wall and called for the Gates to be opened. A few moments later they swung inwards with a soft groan. They were opened only long enough that the horses could be brought through. Then they were closed again and the locking mechanism put back into place. The Great Gates were the only ones so guarded. The rest they rode through without interruption as they made their way up to the sixth level of the city, where the King's Stables were. People who were out and going on about their business often stopped what they were doing to gaze at the grim-looking group that rode through their city garbed as if for war, and the fair-haired elf that rode with them. Neither the White Company nor Legolas paid them any mind.

When they reached the Stables the men stayed behind. Some would aid in caring for the horses, and others would put theirs and their comrade's gear away in the barracks where they would be staying. Grooms came and took away the horses whose masters did not stay. The boy who came to take Arod seemed unsure of how to handle the horse since he had no bridle or halter. But he need not have worried, for at but a command from his rider the horse of the Mark followed him willingly into a clean stall, and promptly settled down and began eating the hay that had been put in there. Once their horses were led off, Beregond and Legolas walked through the tunnel into the Citadel and then to the King's House, were they would meet with the king. A servant met them at the door and escorted them to a room that had been set aside for this meeting.

As they waited in silence for the king, Legolas allowed his eyes to roam around the room. Aragorn had used it for such meetings before. It wasn't elaborately decorated, and sported a semi-long table and chairs. Directly across from the door was a window about three feet tall by four feet in length. As a meeting place it served its purpose well, though the elf would have preferred something a little less closed in.

His attention was then drawn back to the door as footsteps sounded down the hall. After a few moments they came into Beregond's hearing as well. A few moments more, and the door opened, and in stepped Aragorn, King of Gondor, and Faramir, Steward of Gondor. They both looked little different since Legolas had seen them last six months ago.

Aragorn stood tall and proud in his raiment of silver and blue. His grey eyes shone with wisdom and understanding that made him look far older than he actually was, which for mortals was none too young. But he had the blood of Numenor in his veins, and thus had a far longer life-span than other men. Almost hidden in the silver orbs was an untamed fire. It was a longing for the open plains, raging rivers, and vast forests of the wilds—the place that he would always belong to no matter what his status was in the world of men. Yet his face also held joy and happiness amongst the wisdom and responsibility, and he now wore a welcoming and joyful expression at the sight of his guests.

Faramir wore a less elaborate outfit of brown and black, but the mark of nobility was still there. In his young countenance was a graveness that can only come of seeing much hardship and turmoil; and continuing on though others were not so fortunate. His blue eyes had seen much. That one could tell by looking into them, for the memory remained there. Yet he also had an aura of joy and contentment in life, and his placement in it, though to all others he seemed reserved and at times distant.

Beregond immediately bowed as his lieges entered the room. Legolas smiled and was about to follow suit when Aragorn held up his hand and shook his head. "No formalities, my friend. I am subjected to them more than enough as it is."

Legolas laughed and stepped forward to clasp the former ranger's arm in greeting. "Mae govannen, Aragorn. Well met."

Aragorn smiled and returned the gesture. "It is good to see you again, Legolas." He then turned to where Beregond and Faramir were conversing about the White Company's journey from North Ithilien a few feet away. The two halted their conversation when they realized his attention was on them. "Your Majesty." Beregond dipped his head.

"Please Beregond." The king shook his head. "As I said to Legolas, no formalities. Come, all of you, and sit."

At Aragorn's gesture they all took seats: Aragorn at the head of the table, Legolas and Faramir to either side of him, and Beregond on Faramir's other side. Aragorn spoke, coming straight to the purpose of this council, for they had neither need nor enough time to dance around it.

"You all know that the Haradrim have been harassing us at our southern borders. We have thus far repelled them, but now they seek to bring this to the next level. They have managed to sneak past our lines and amass a considerable force outside Linhinenet, a small farming community along the River Erui," he began.

"Wait a moment, my lord, and please forgive my interruption," Beregond said, hoping he did not sound impudent. Confusion had come to his face upon hearing that Gondor's remaining enemies could accomplish such a feat after the heavy losses they suffered in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. "How is it that they have enough men to wage war with us? Border skirmishes I can understand, but I thought the Haradrim armies were decimated in the War of the Ring. How is it that they still have the strength to challenge us?"

"They do not seek open war," Aragorn answered, "only to wear us down little by little, until we fold and give them what they want to make them stop. Not all of their fighting forces were sent to aid Mordor, so they still have enough left to achieve this."

"You must also remember that Gondor is still regaining her own strength. Our own fighting force is still not as large as it was before the Ring War," Faramir added.

"Yet we are still stronger than they, and because this is our territory we can send aid to our soldiers and reinforcements faster than they can," Aragorn defended, refusing to be fazed by the desert invaders. "If we eliminate the force that camps outside Linhinenet they will be forced to back off, and we will be back to mere border skirmishes. If we eliminate this force they will not have the strength to try something like this again. Not any time soon anyway."

He looked around at the others, gauging their responses. Each seemed understanding and calm about the whole predicament, for easily could it be remedied– if they chose to remedy it. "They are camped a half mile south of the river. Gondor's troops are camped to the east of Linhinenet, north of the river. They were on their way to aid the men on the border, they do not have the numbers to take on the Haradrim as they are now."

"You want us to take a company to aid them and eliminate the Haradrim," Legolas said, breaking the silence he had held since the meeting's beginning.

Aragorn looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "And what makes you think that I'm asking you to go?" he said, with a mysterious glint in his eyes. Over the many years of their friendship the two had taken to trying to out psych one another, with cryptic comments and questions designed to make a person doubt themself. In an attempt to lighten the mood he subconsciously employed the use of this decades old game, knowing the elven prince would recognize it immediately. Hopefully it would make the mood a bit less dire, and put them a bit more at ease, for this was not nearly as bad a situation as Gondor had been in before the One Ring's destruction. It merely needed to be stopped when it could be stopped most easily– at its beginnings.

Legolas was undaunted by his friend's look, and was more than willing to rise to his lighthearted challenge, recognizing Aragorn's reason for employing it, as Aragorn knew he would. Normally he would reply with a statement or question just as cryptic as Aragorn's. This time, however, he decided to take his old friend by surprise and employ a new tactic: bluntness.

"You asked me to this meeting, for one," he shrugged, keeping his body totally relaxed and looking for all the world as if he were bored by such a question, his facial expression indifferent and his tone logical and matter-of -fact. "I do not think you would call me here specifically for this if I was not to have a part in it, since it does not involve my colony. In addition to that you asked me to make haste in coming here. If Faramir summoned the White Company at the same time they would arrive first since they are closer to the city, and it seems you wanted all of us to arrive more or less together so this meeting wouldn't be long delayed. I'm assuming also, since actions are being taken with such haste, that we are to depart fairly soon."

The three men sat staring at him with shocked expressions at his response. Then Aragorn smiled and shook his head in amazement. "There is no fooling you my friend," he grinned. Trust Legolas to throw a new twist into the game. He put it into the back of his mind to even the score again at a time when it would be more appropriate, such as after the Haradrim were evicted and he had had enough time to come up with a new and unexpected response of his own. For now though, responsibility demanded they drop the game and let the elf stand as the current winner. So almost reluctantly he gave the fair being a plain answer.

"Indeed such a company will be departing on the morrow, for I dare not delay longer than that. We are not entirely sure the Haradrim will seek to attack, but I do not want to take chances on an uncertainty. If they are going to attack they won't wait for long, especially since they will probably have figured out that reinforcements have been sent for. They know the soldiers already there will not attack them on their own. And indeed I was going to ask if you would possibly accompany them. Your elven senses would be a valuable asset. Before Faramir can decide on what we shall have to do to remove them he will need to have some idea of their intent."

Legolas gave Aragorn a wry smile and a knowing look. "You wish me to infiltrate their camp and find out what their intent is."

"You are the only one who can get in and out with a realistic hope of not being detected, darkness and all but the most severe elements are not hindrance to you as they would be to a human." Aragorn spoke with calm and well thought-out logic, yet the option for the woodland being to refuse was still there.

Legolas nodded. "If it will help then yes, I will go." He had already heard reports of the havoc being wrought on the borders. The thought that the Southmen might come north and threaten his own people in Ithilien was alone enough to raise his ire, and his ability to sense danger from afar might allow Gondor to get out of this encounter with fewer casualties. These lands had seen far too much war in recent years for him to even think of refusing his friend's request. If Aragorn wanted his aid, he would give it.

Even if it meant spying in enemy camps and possibly going to battle, short though the whole thing should be.

"I thank you my friend, though I loath having to watch you ride out into danger, especially when I am unable to accompany you and the cause is not your own." Aragorn's look was apologetic, but the elf waved it off dismissively.

"It is my concern if they come anywhere near Ithilien, Aragorn." His gaze was venomous at the thought of the southern invaders entering his realm and threatening his people, which they seemed to be capable of considering they made it all the way to the Erui River. "I will go for no other reasons than that you are my friend and would do the same for me, and that I have a duty to protect my people."

To that Aragorn nodded in understanding, for he knew his friend's words to be true, but he still couldn't help but feel guilty in asking the elf to put himself in harms way. "I guess I'll have to accept that then, for by the look in your eyes you do not seem likely to be persuaded otherwise."

"You would ask me for help, only to then try and talk me out of it mere moments later when my well-being hasn't even been threatened yet?"

"Your well-being became threatened the moment you decided to come with us and infiltrate an enemy camp, Legolas. Now can we please move on?" Faramir understood both sides of the argument, but they had things to accomplish here ere they could finish and he could go make the last preparations for them to ride out in the morning. The sooner they finished here the sooner he could go complete them. He wanted them done soon so that he could rest properly before being called on to rise early as he had planned.

His day had been stressful thus far and would only become more so as it wore on. This meeting was only one of several he had to attend as he prepared the company that would ride out and recruited others to take up his duties here while he was gone, and then spread the word of who the councilmen were to go to in his place. He had not the time to spend playing mind games with old friends, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

"Yes Faramir, forgive us." Aragorn apologized, realizing that he could tarry not in getting this meeting over with, and launched back into the narrative he had left off before. "If they attack, the Haradrim will likely do one of two things. Either they will go directly north to Linhinenet and then attack us from the west, or they will come northeast and attack us directly."

"What about dividing and attacking from both fronts?" Legolas asked.

The king shook his head. "Unless they have increased their numbers in the last few days, which I do not think likely as we have had no word from our own men, they will not have enough fighters to do this. Especially once our force there has increased in size. Tomorrow your force rides out to meet with those already in Linhinenet, and from what reports we have heard so far they will most likely attack tomorrow night. They seem to have figured out that reinforcements were being sent for. Likely they will simply choose to wait and get rid of the whole force at once than fight multiple times if they can help it. If you must engage them don't massacre them, but get the message clear across. They are not welcome to freely roam our lands, and we will not stand for them doing so."

Aragorn felt fairly confident that everything had been properly addressed regarding the Men of the South that could be addressed here. Everything else would have to be planned and set up by Faramir, Legolas, and the soldiers once they reached Linhinenet. Yet a shadow of unease that had nothing to do with the threat to Linhinenet had blossomed in the back of his mind earlier, and refused to be quieted. He hoped fervently that they had not overlooked anything.

That there was nothing more to this than there seemed to be.

Aragorn gave his head a mental shake. Later he would ask Legolas if he had sensed anything. It was pointless to drag this council out longer because he was uneasy for some unnamed reason. "I think that about covers all that can be discussed here. What say you Faramir?"

"I agree my lord," the Steward answered. He was briefly relieved the council had not lasted very long, but that was soon replaced by the resigned feeling of knowing the chores on his roster were far from completed. He turned to address Legolas. "We leave at first light tomorrow, so meet us at the stable before then."

The elf nodded in agreement, promising silently to be there.

"Good. Then I think we should all go prepare for tomorrow morning." Aragorn said as he stood up from his chair, the others rising with him.

Noticed by none of them, a sparrow jumped off of the edge of the windowsill, and flew around to the window high on the wall of the corridor outside. At a flick of his wing two grey and white pigeons joined him.

They exited the room, Beregond going back towards the stables and barracks to get the men ready. Faramir gave some soft spoken instructions to the man, and then went the other way to his next destination, finding someone to take over for him while he was dealing with the southmen. Aragorn turned to Legolas. "The hobbits are here," he said.

"All four of them?" the elf asked.

"Yes. I believe they left a few hours ago with Arwen to explore the city a bit."

Legolas couldn't help but smile at the thought of the merry, brave-hearted Shirefolk. It was amazing what those small beings could accomplish, considering that most of them never traveled outside the Shire, where they had dwelled for centuries. Indeed many east of the Misty Mountains had never heard of hobbits save in passing legend before the War of the Ring. Even now many still knew no more than that they existed. Yet still for all their small size and obsession with food and parties one should never underestimate them, for they truly were among the most steadfast and stouthearted of peoples when the need arose. Legolas looked forward to being in their company again.

"Am I to assume that Gimli will be visiting as well?" Legolas asked hopefully. It had been months since he had last seen the dwarf and he was beginning to miss him.

"He should be arriving in approximately three days, unless he is delayed." Aragorn stifled a chuckle at the thought of how the reunion between the two might turn out. Elves and dwarves had been at the very least bitter rivals for millennia. Gimli and Legolas had been no exception. From the start of the Fellowship's journey they had been downright hostile to one another, and more than once either Aragorn or Gandalf had been forced to step between the two lest they kill each other or gave away the Fellowship to their enemies. Even now he wasn't entirely sure what had caused the two to put aside their animosity and actually try to be friends. He wasn't even sure if they knew.

He inwardly shook his head again. Whatever had happened, the two were nearly inseparable now. Indeed, it had been their letting go of the old rivalry between their peoples that had allowed the Three Hunters, as they had become known as, to form the incredibly strong bond they shared as a trio. Yet this bond certainly didn't prevent the two from playing all manner of insidious yet ultimately harmless little pranks on one another.

A guard passing by them dressed in armor suddenly jolted the former ranger's memory, bringing back to the front of his mind something he had determined to speak with the elf about earlier. More than one thing, actually.

"We should head for the armory." his voice was casual, his remark intentionally unexpected.

Immediately the elf's gaze fell on him, his fair head tilted questioningly.

Aragorn simply returned the gaze, as if the answer were obvious.

"You cannot ride out towhat could become a battle without some sort of protection, my friend. I know you got along fine without it at the Pellenor fields, but that time there was no chance to prepare beforehand. This time there is and I think it would be wise of you to take advantage of that."

The elf mentally sighed and grumbled in annoyance that his friend would take note of that little detail. That friend was right, but still he disliked wearing anything that would limit his ability to move. One look at the human walking next to him, however, told him that Aragorn wouldn't let the matter go, and would continue to press him until he gave in.

"So long as it doesn't impede my style of fighting then very well," he acquiesced with a resigned and somewhat reluctant tone. There was a very good chance there would be not battle, and then he would not have to wear the unwelcome garments anyway.

"Good," Aragorn nodded his head. A mischievous grin was spreading across his face, which he was unsuccessfully trying to keep impassive. "I'd hate to hear about how Faramir had to drag you off the battlefield because you were too slow to avoid one of the southmens' spears and had nothing to protect you."

Legolas' glare was indignant. "Oh, really? Well in that case I'd love to hear your explanation of why it is that you almost always emerge from battle covered in as much of your own blood as that of others while I, wearing less armor than you, only ever leave the battlefield with the blood of my enemies upon me?"

"Only ever?" Aragorn's eyes were wide, his gaze incredulous. "I've lost track of how many times I've had to sew up a cut or "scratch", as you like to call them, which you received from an enemy blade."

"But it's never been more than superficial and you only sewed it so it would close faster," Legolas said pointedly.

Aragorn sighed. "You are definitely wearing at least some type of armor, Elf. With an attitude like that the day is going to come, more likely sooner than later, when you will come away from a fight with something far more serious than a "scratch", and I would try to prevent it if I could."

"I said I would wear it, Estel. Or has the foreboding you feel distracted you so that you forget things easily?"

Aragorn froze. Legolas halted but a pace away, waiting for his friend to do something. Aragorn's surprised gaze locked onto the dark grey-blue eyes that stared back at him impassively. His voice was a whisper. "You have felt it to?"

Legolas heard him easily. "Apparently not as strongly as you have, but yes, I have. A shadow of unease in the back of the mind. Subtle, yet noticeable."

"What do you think it is?" Aragorn asked. The two resumed walking. Legolas didn't answer him right away, so Aragorn patiently waited him out. After a few minutes the elf spoke.

"I don't know what it is. Only that my unease grows if I turn my attention to the south but nothing more."

"That makes two of us." Aragorn sighed in frustration. At that point the conversation faded, and each was lost to his own thoughts as they made their way to the sixth level of the city, where was located one of six armories; one located on each of the levels of the city. The exception was the seventh level, where the King's House was located. The seventh level was the smallest, and as the armory of the sixth level was so close at hand it had been thought by the city's builders that a seventh armory wasn't needed.

Neither noticed the small bird that tailed them, and at their arrival to the armory winged his way over to a large window set high, near the ceiling. He had a feeling they would be talking to the weaponsmaster, and picked a spot near where he knew the man's workstation was, having tailed Faramir here several times when the Steward had come to see him. Even with the added noise of more people than the last time, Erd still found he could here any conversation very well, and wouldn't have to move if they stayed on this side of the armory, something he didn't mind in the least.

When the two friends walked through the door they found the place humming with activity. Men both of the White Company and of Gondor's cavalry ran back and forth on one errand or another. Some sat crafting arrows, or re-stitching leather. Others selected weapons or armor they would have need of but did not have already. Still other sharpened blades and arrow heads. If Faramir's company and the company in Linhinenet fought the Haradrim, they would do so prepared and with adequate supplies.

The craftsmen in charge of making and up keeping the weapons and armor scurried around, making last minute adjustments and repairs or helping people to find things. Men nodded their heads respectfully at the king and elven lord as they passed by them, but did not stop as they went about their business. The two returned the gesture, and kept on towards their goal as well.

Near the back of the room, a tall, grizzled man who appeared to be in his early forties worked to repair the torn flap of a well-used, yet well cared for saddle. He was dressed in a plain brown work tunic, breeches, and boots, with a leather apron over all. He looked up suddenly when Aragorn approached him, and putting aside his work, stood and nodded his head respectfully before striding forwards to greet the ex-ranger as if he were an old comrade, a bright look in his hazel eyes and an inquiring smile on his face. Aragorn greeted him alike while Legolas kept back a few paces and waited to be introduced to the man. After a few minutes the two men walked over to him.

"Legolas, this is Almeran, the weaponsmaster of the city's armories. Almeran, I'd like to introduce you to Legolas, son of Thranduil of Mirkwood Forest. " Aragorn stepped back slightly to let the two greet one another.

"Tis a pleasure to meet you, Son of Thranduil," Almeran greeted the elf warmly, offering the fair being his hand.

Legolas accepted the proffered handshake, extending his own friendly greeting. "It is likewise a pleasure to meet you, Almeran." The man had the well built muscles and scars of one who has spent much time training and working with weapons. His hands were also rough, and stained with soot, telling of years of smithing and metalwork.

Almeran likewise took note of the lithe creature that had come into what many had come to term 'his domain'. He had a youthful look, as if he were no older than twenty-three. Yet his eyes belied that assumption. His eyes were old. Old as only time can make them, yet young. Wise and well learned yet energetic and vibrant. Agelessness it was, the trademark of the eldar.

Aragorn decided then to get down to business as it seemed the weaponsmaster and his assistants were busy and needed to get on with their work.

"Almeran," he said stepping forward, "Legolas is one of the company that's riding out tomorrow for Linhinenet. Think you can find some armor for him, or are you too busy? We can come back later."

"Nah, I'm not that busy. Better we get this done now so your friend here can rest up. I hear Faramir wants to be out early and stop as few times for rest as he can without exhausting everyone."

Legolas did not bother telling the man that elves needed far less sleep than men and could rest in their own fashion while on the move, for Almeran was already walking amongst the weapon racks towards where the armor was kept on rows of shelves. Legolas and Aragorn followed him. The weaponsmaster glanced over his shoulder at the elf. "What kind of armor d'you usually wear, Legolas?" he called over the noise of the other soldiers running around.

"I don't usually wear armor. It's impractical where I come from," Legolas replied.

"You're tellin' me that your people never wear armor?" Almeran arched an eyebrow at this.

"Not very often."

"And why is that?"

"Mostly we end up fighting spiders which like to attack us either from or in the trees, so we need maximum amount of maneuverability. Wargs and orcs we attack from the trees as well as from the ground, and often jump back and forth to confuse them. Our fighting style is based more on the idea of out maneuvering an opponent, not going head-to-head." Legolas spoke as if this was obvious, and to him it was. But Almeran had never traveled to the great forest before and Legolas was in fact the first of its people that he had ever met. Before, he had known of the Woodland elves only in legend and stories.

Almeran listened to the elf as he looked through the pieces of armor. So what this guy'll want is something light and non-restricting. No bulkiness either. Hmm, he thought, I wonder.... His smile broadened as an idea came to mind.

"Have you ever worn any type of armor other than vambraces?" he asked absentmindedly.

"At Helm's Deep I wore eight-lamed pauldrons. That's it."

Almeran looked the Elf up and down, sizing him up. "Well, we can get you another set 'o those that's for sure. But I think I can add something to it. Follow me."

He walked over to a shelf a few rows away where was kept chain mail. Looking through the different coats he would pick one up and then put it back, mumbling to himself the entire time, though Legolas could hear him.

"Nope, too long... Wrong size... Too heavy... Too thick... I thought I told Carlan to repair that one... shouldn't even be on these shelves... that boy's gonna be in trouble when thing's calm down in here... Too big... Too small...Wrong style... Ah, here it is."

He turned around and tossed an armored coat at the elf. "Here. Go in the back and try this on."

Legolas caught the coat and was surprised at how light it was. At Almeran's direction he shed the suede jerkin he wore over his tunic and put it on.

The coat he wore was no longer than his own green and brown jerkin. Sleeveless, it fit snugly, yet comfortably around its wearer's torso, rib cage, back, stomach, and shoulder blades. Instead of fastening over the shoulders, the mail angled up over spine and collarbone to complete itself in a form-fitting collar about two inches tall, lined by soft, dark leather to make it more comfortable.

At the waist the coat had no metal, only a two inch wide band of leather where a warrior would wear his belt. The skirt, which consisted of four pieces to allow minimum restriction, was attached to the bottom edge of the leather. What was most interesting was the fact that instead of chain-links it consisted of thousands of small fish scale-shaped pieces.

Almeran tossed to Legolas the black leather pauldrons that had been specially made to go with the scale-coat. When these were fixed into place the weaponsmaster gave them a thorough inspection to make sure they fit properly, and then turned to the king to ask his opinion.

Aragorn had seen the men of Rohan wear similarly scaled coats, though theirs were full length and the scales were slightly longer, narrower, and more pointed. Not very unlike dragon or snake scales. But he had never seen a scale coat of this particular design before. He couldn't help but admit that he was impressed by the cunning make of it, though he didn't say it out loud.

"Did you make this," he asked instead, "or did someone give it to you?"

"I made it. It's my own design." Almeran's voice remained casual, yet his already ramrod-straight posture seemed to draw itself up a bit more as he talked about his creation.

"The steel I used is folded rather than melted down and poured into a mold, so it's a hundred times stronger. I also treated it with a special mixture while purifying it–- I purify my own iron ore y'know. The mixture makes it extremely light. After truesilver it's the strongest metal in the world, and the lightest, or so it's proved to be so far. The design is basically to allow greatest protection and motion range with minimal bulk. The scales are more flexible than chain or plate, and by reducing the layers the fighter wears, by having no metal underneath the person's weaponbelt or pauldrons, there's less restriction and stiffness.

Elf and king listened to the man with interest. What he said was true. There was no doubt that he knew what he was talking about. Each individually came to the conclusion in their mind that they would have to bring Gimli here when the dwarf reached Minas Tirith to meet Almeran. He would have a field day talking to this man.

"It's perfect," Aragorn said. He turned to Legolas. "What do you think?"

Legolas didn't answer right away. Instead he turned to Almeran, who had seated himself on a bench and was watching the elf for his response just as Aragorn was. "Do you have any mirrors in here?" Almeran pointed to a nearby wall, were was mounted a six-foot tall mirror between two sets of shelves. He walked over to it, wanting to see what he looked like in armor. The elven prince wasn't vain by nature, but wearing such protective gear was new to him and it was out of sheer curiosity that he wanted to see his reflection.

Stepping up to the looking-glass he was satisfied that what he did see not displeasing. The scale armor did fit well, and while he was unaccustomed to it, it wasn't uncomfortable. It didn't even look out of place on him. Rather it actually looked more like it was made for him. Still, appearances meant nothing if he was unable to fight in it. That was a test he would have to put it through before he gave his final verdict.

Crossing over to the center of the small empty area they were in, he stopped to retrieve his white knives from their place strapped to his quiver; which he had left on a bench. As the two men looked on he began one of the knife forms he had learned long ago when he was first taught to wield a blade. He made sure the training routine he chose was one that required a lot of exaggerated and intricate movements.

As he ducked, dodged, parried, and attacked, the other people in the armory one by one stopped what they were doing to watch the elf's impressive and complex fight against multiple nonexistent foes. When he finished many of them clapped or called out in admiration for the impromptu show, then went back to their original activities. Almeran and Aragorn continued to wait patiently for the fair being's decision concerning whether he would wear that particular armored coat, or if they would need to keep searching for one that he would.

Personally Aragorn thought the elf would never find anything in the White City that would suit him better, but that was his opinion, and Legolas' could very well be the exact opposite. And since it was the elf who would have to wear it, it would be he who had the final say.

Finally Legolas turned to back to the two, but instead of answering Aragorn's question, he looked at Almeran and asked a question of his own.

"I never expected to find something like this here. Is this the only one you have or are there more?"

"You're wearin' the only one. It's my prototype. It's also never seen battle. I've been waitin' for someone to take it out and put it through its paces, that way I'd know if it was worth making more of them, or if it needed more work." Almeran wondered if all elves took so long to answer a simple question or if this one was just unique. He also wondered what interest the fair haired being would have in the number of fish-scale coats, as he liked to call them, he had. Does such a question mean that he'll take the coat with him? Or does it mean he's interested in it but he doesn't like how it fits him. He couldn't tell.

When Legolas simply nodded, Aragorn decided enough was enough. They couldn't play this game all day and night. "Legolas. Is that coat what you're looking for, or do we need to keep looking?" He gave the elf a stern look to let him know he expected an answer. He could force the woodland being to take it with him by pulling rank on him, he was King after all. But such was their friendship that he would not resort to such a measure unless he had to.

Legolas seemed unperturbed by his friend's gaze, but even if he was it didn't matter, for he had made his decision. He turned back to Almeran. "If you would permit me, Weaponmaster, I would be the one to test your prototype in combat. Valar willing, I will return to tell you that the entire Gondorian army should be outfitted as such."

"In that case I shall prepare more iron ore in the event that you bring me back such a message. And Valar forbid your message comes back the contrary, I shall use it to make the improved version of the coat." Almeran couldn't help but grin. Thus far he had tried and failed several times to find someone to field-test his prototype, but none would. Either they were untrusting of an untried type of armor, or the coat didn't fit them properly, or they were simply set in what type of armor they'd wear.

The elf, he had to admit, fit into the coat better than anyone else that had tried it on so far. Making the weaponsmaster even happier was the elf's fighting abilities. After only watching Legolas do a knife form, he could tell that he was the best person he could have ever hoped for to test his new design. His fighting style, the fact that he could fight most likely from both ground and horseback, and the fact that he used both distance and close combat weapons meant that his armor would get put through almost everything he could ask it to be put through in a single skirmish.

Aragorn was pleased as well. Having Legolas wear something that at least would foil an enemy blade did much to ease his mind, though the unidentified dread that took up an almost constant perch in his head refused to dissipate. Still, it was one less thing for him to worry about.

As Legolas moved off to get out of the scale coat and back into his jerkin and quiver, Aragorn walked over to Almeran. Stepping in front of him he held out his hand. Almeran took it and the two shook. "Thank you, Almeran. I can not tell you how much of a comfort it is to know that he will at least be less vulnerable if the Haradrim attack."

When the Haradrim attack, he corrected himself, apprehensive again despite his grateful tone and appeased manner. The southmen weren't fools, nor were they stupid. If attack was their intent they would not hesitate to attack once they saw that help had arrived for the Gondorian soldiers that were already there. And if they didn't then it was up to Legolas to find out what their true intent was.

Almeran shook his head. "Your majesty it is I who will be thanking you for bringing him here. He's just what I was looking for to take that coat out and field test it."

Legolas rejoined them then. "Thank you Weaponmaster. I will come to see you and tell you about your armor's trustworthiness when I come back." The elf shook the man's hand. Almeran again shook his head. "You do me just as good a favor, my lord. It both flatters and thrills me that you will wear it." Legolas simply nodded at this.

"I think we should return to the palace my friend." Aragorn said. "Good day Almeran." He turned and began to walk towards the exit.

"Good day Your Majesty." Almeran called back. Legolas walked up and nodded at him. "GoodbyeAlmeran. I've a feeling we'll be seeing each other again soon. A friend of mine who is coming here will most likely want to meet you after he gets a look at your craftsmanship, and I'm sure he'll get me to come along to introduce the two of you."

Almeran grinned. "Bring him over. Anyone with an eye for smithing and weapons is welcome. I look forward to meeting him, and you will have to come back anyway to tell me how that scale coat worked for you."

Legolas smiled back and turned to walk out of the armory after his friend. Almeran started to walk back to the saddle he had been repairing. As he passed by the shelf where he had kept the scale coat, he gasped as memory sent a jolt through him. Grabbing the object that had caught his attention, he ran after the elf, catching him just as he reached the door.

Legolas heard the footsteps behind him and turned to step aside and let the person past. Whoever it was they were in a hurry. He cocked his head to the side questioningly when he saw that it was Almeran. "What is it?"

Almeran stopped and held out towards him a helmet. The elf took it. It was made to cover a person's head, but not interfere with the movement of their neck. The front came down over its wearer's cheekbones and curved up to connect with the piece that covered the bridge of the nose. Two large and slightly slanted almond-shaped holes were cut out to allow the wearer to see. A pair of triangular pieces of metal, reminiscent of fox ears, and sharpened so they could be used to cause damage in their own right were riveted to the skull. The whole effect was a vulpine-like visage. A leather strap fastened underneath the chin would hold it in place.

Legolas looked up at the man standing in front of him. "Why are you giving me this?"

Almeran shrugged. "I made it to go with that scale coat. Bit unorthodox, but it'll do its job." He began to walk back towards his work area. Turning slightly as he went he waved the elf off. "Try it," he called back. "It should fit. If is doesn't work for ye though just forget about wearin' it and bring it back with ye." With that he went back to repairing the saddle, leaving Legolas stading in the doorway, a bewildered expression on his face. Shaking his head, the fair being walked out into the cool, moisture laden afternoon air. The sky was beginning to darken into evening. The clouds had obscured the sun's position in the sky, and it was later then the two friends had originally thought.

Aragorn had noticed the elf wasn't behind him and had stopped to wait for him. He had been about to go back in and see what was keeping his friend, when Legolas walked out of the armory and joined him.

"What kept you?" Aragorn asked. In response Legolas showed him the fox-head helmet. The former ranger's expression was incredulous as he examined it. It was without a doubt the most unusual piece of head-gear he had ever laid eyes on. He looked at the elven prince questioningly. Legolas shook his head. "Almeran said he made it to go with the scale coat and that I should try it out." In truth the elf had no better explanation than that. "How did you meet him?" he asked, as Aragorn handed the helmet back to him. "You seemed to know one another."

Aragorn smiled as they began to walk back to the palace. His eyes looked somewhat far away as he spoke. "In truth Legolas I did not meet him until after Arwen and I were married. He was an apprentice blacksmith here when Faramir was first sent off to ride with the Rangers of Ithilien. He's I believe about eleven or twelve years older than Faramir is, ten at the least. The two, despite their age difference, became friends, and have maintained that friendship throughout the years. It was Faramir who introduced me to Almeran."

Aragorn shook his head at the memory. "Almeran had heard tales of my time in Ecthelion's service as Thorongil and was very interested in meeting me not because I was his king, but because of the amazing life I had led. A life I wish in some ways that I was still leading now. He's treated me as a friend ever since, and I've treated him the same. He's a good man, and a good person to be friends with. Any time you need anything he's got your back."

Aragorn sighed. Thinking about his days as a ranger always brought out that melancholic look in his eyes. Part of him would always be that ranger and nothing could change that. Neither could anything take away that melancholy except to let the ranger back into the wilds he yearned for. Legolas could see this was what occupied the man's thoughts, and he sympathized with him.

He had never liked being cooped up in his father's courts either. He also knew what it meant to give up something for someone else. The sea-longing bid him to come away to Valinor with his people, just as the wilds bid Aragorn to give up being royalty.

But as Aragorn stayed for the people who needed him and who he owed his loyalty to, Legolas stayed for his friends, though doing so would always cause some pain for him. To him it was worth it, as being King was to Aragorn. "I wouldn't change anything if I could go back. I just wish that saving Middle Earth didn't require me to give up being a ranger. No matter what that will always be a preferred lifestyle for me."

Legolas just nodded in understanding. There was nothing for him to say, and he wouldn't waste his time with empty remarks. Aragorn knew he understood. Right now he just being there and listening was enough.

They continued on in silence, each wrapped up in his own thoughts. Above them Erd flew, both listening to the two and looking for someplace to perch that he would still be able to at least hear them when they went inside. He decided on a tall window near the door, and swooped up to perch on the windowsill. They came into the front entrance of the King's House only to be greeted by two familiar faces. "Legolas! Good to see you again. It's been far too long."

"You as well Samwise. How is Rosie?"

"She's fine. Would have brought her with me except her father hasn't been doing too well lately. She wanted to stay in Hobbiton and take care of him." Sam's smile held its place as he came up to embrace the elf, yet his brown eyes were sorrowful as he thought of his kind father-in-law's failing health. He had considered staying behind with his wife, but she would have none of it, and in the end had all but pushed him out the door and shut it in his face to see that he would go and visit his friends in the east with Frodo, Merry, and Pippin.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Legolas' sorrow was genuine. His prolonged contact with the mortal races had given him a basic understanding of the concept of old age. Enough to know what the term "failing health" often meant for a mortal of advanced years, though he hadn't thought Sam's father-in-law was that aged.

"We all are, but we agreed that we wouldn't let it dampen the mood. We came here to enjoy seeing old friends, not agonize over something we can do nothing about." Frodo gave his best friend a pointed look. Sam nodded and allowed the joyfulness to return to his eyes. Frodo turned back to the elven prince and embraced him as well. "It is good to return here and visit. Since the war I have found the Shire a bit confining at times, like Bilbo did. I'm glad to be back. And it is good to see you again. Now all we need here is Gimli and Gandalf and the Fellowship will be reunited again."

"I share the sentiment Master Hobbit. It is one of the reasons I am not often found in Mirkwood these days. Restoring Ithilien is the other reason. And Gimli should be here in a few days. Perhaps Gandalf will show up as well."

"I tried to send an invitation to him but no one knows where he is, so I sent several to people in different places. He should get one eventually," Aragorn interrupted. Legolas and Frodo both nodded, then went back to their conversation.

Frodo smiled. "I would like to hear of your new home, and how it fairs. I only traveled through North Ithilien, but I remember how beautiful it was, considering it was so close the Ephel Duath. I imagine South Ithilien was a bit worse off."

"It was," Legolas nodded, "but now the shadows are receding. It looks to be a beautiful spring this year. I'll tell you more about it tonight. I imagine Estel has some sort of dinner being prepared for us all."

"That he does." Aragorn chuckled. "Though I'm surprised Merry and Pippin didn't answer that question for you."

"Well, Pip, I suppose we shouldn't be rude and should greet our friends," a voice said nearby. They all turned to see two hobbits standing a short ways away, casually leaning against the white stone wall and smoking their pipes as if they had no intention of moving or addressing their comrades.

"Yes Merry I suppose we should, we are in the presence of royalty you know," Pippin replied.

"Indeed," Merry returned.

"Oh, you two. Enough already, go say hello, you're being rude as it is," Arwen admonished as she stepped out of the dining hall and walked over to the group. "Hello Legolas, I'm glad you could come," the Queen of Gondor smiled as she joined them, her eyes shining with warmth. "As am I milady," Legolas returned her smile with one of his own. Arwen turned to Estel and gave him her greeting in the form of a kiss. "Dinner is ready," she said. Then she turned back to the two Shirefolk who had yet to join the rest. "Are you going to join us, or shall we wait for you in the dining hall?"

The two looked at one another as if silently having a discussion of great debate and contemplation. Then they turned back to their waiting friends. "Well..." Merry began as if in reluctance. He sighed and shared a resigned look with his close friend. Their faces contorted into barely retrained grins. "I suppose we'll just have to join you." They then raced over and tackled the elf, all three collapsing in a laughing heap. "It's wonderful to see you again Legolas!" Merry exclaimed. "You should have come sooner!" Pippin added.

"If I had known you were here I would have!" Legolas laughed. "You two have one of the strangest sense of humor I have ever encountered. I never would have thought you'd choose greeting a friend over meeting them at the dinner table."

The two tried to appear injured around the wide grins they were wearing. "Who said we did? You were merely in the way!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Speaking of which, I suggest we all go eat before the food gets cold," Aragorn chuckled, and led the way towards the dinning hall. Merry and Pippin helped Legolas to his feet, and then followed the man. They all took seats and began eating, discussing in between mouthfuls what each had been doing since they had last seen one another, and about recent events in their respective homelands. Merry and Pippin were giving an account on how good the last pipe-weed harvest had been and how Gimli would have to critique it when he arrived.

"Hopefully Faramir and I will still be in Linhinenet when that happens." Legolas remarked lightly, yet with a wry undertone. Aragorn chuckled and gave the elf a sympathetic look. Legolas hated the smoke from burning pipeweed, and as a result he and Gimli usually refrained from participating in the pastime while their friend was around as a courtesy. But that didn't prevent him from teasing the woodland being about it from time to time. "I'm sure that he will. I found it quite good myself. I believe that when he gets here we should all have some and as a group come up with a final decision regarding its quality." Aragorn's smile became a vicious grin when Legolas leveled an unamused glare at him.

"I think I'll pass on that offer mellon nin, and take Arod out for exercise instead."

"I'll go also, my horse would enjoy it," said Arwen. She as well wasn't thrilled by the thought of a room full of pipe smoke. Few elves were.

"I wouldn't much mind a smoke at this point," Faramir said as he and Beregond strode into the room. "In fact I think I'll join you in your endeavor if I get back in time." He and his captain took seats and settled into meal and conversation both. Merry and Pippin were overjoyed to see Beregond again, and soon the three, joined after a bit by Sam and Frodo, were involved in a lively conversation, Beregond promising to involve himself in their smoking convention.

"Is everything ready for tomorrow Faramir?" Aragorn asked.

Faramir took a drought of wine to clear his throat, then answered with a relieved sigh, "Yes, it is. Two hundred will ride out at dawn. Valar willing most will return, though I hold no illusions that we will not suffer losses if it comes down to a fight."

Aragorn, Legolas and Arwen all nodded. Each knew the Southmen were vicious and ruthless on the battle field. They would give no quarter and show no mercy. The casualties would not be overwhelming, but should the battle come more than a few of the dead would be wearing the badge of the White Tree, the symbol of Gondor.

"The worst losses will come if we have to engage in full-out, hand-to-hand combat. If we can take down most from a distance the death toll will be less, but if we have to attack them in their camp this will be difficult." Faramir's gaze was sorrowful, yet resolute. He hated losing men to the enemy's swords, but unless the Haradrim had a more peaceful pupose in Gondor, there wasn't much he could do except his ultimate best to outsmart the invaders and cause more damage to their numbers than they did to his. "It will be even more difficult, since they seem inclined to attack under cover of darkness, if they do at all. I would simply go for an assault on their camp myself, but we can't tell if they will leave some men in their camp as decoys and come around and attack with the main force through the village."

"That is why Legolas is going with you," Aragorn reminded him, making his voice sound reassuring.

"You have no need to fear the night, Faramir, the darkness is no shield against my eyes, for my people learned long ago to see through it, otherwise the Necromancer would have destroyed us or driven us from our home long before his death. That skill is one that is not easily forgotten, and I assure you it will serve you well tomorrow." Legolas sought to ease Faramir's mind, yet the Steward was not so easily convinced of the elf prince's abilities. He had not personally witnessed them in action as Aragorn or the rest of the Fellowship had, and never had he been called upon to rely so heavily on them as he was now. Never would he think that Legolas would betray them, he simply was unsure if the elf's abilities were really as acute as Legolas and Aragorn claimed.

"So you say Master Elf, yet how can I be absolutely sure of this, considering I have not the senses of the elves?" He did not mean to sound distrustful of the woodland being, but the thought of leading hundreds to their deaths as he had done trying to take back Osgiliath from Sauron's forces after it had been taken from them by orcs and the Nazgul filled him with horror. Never again did he wish to be filled with the knowledge that his misjudgment caused such needless death.

Aragorn's voice was hard, his tone laced with fire. He could understand Faramir's reserve, but he had worked closely with Legolas and the other Ithilien elves for over a year now, he knew the elf would not make false claims in a situation such as this. "You have my assurances. I would not send him with you to serve as your eyes in the dark if he were not capable– "

Aragorn stopped speaking when Legolas held up his hand and gave the king a look that plainly told him to allow him a chance to defend himself. Respectfully Aragorn turned the conversation over to his friend, hoping he could make Faramir see that he could trust in the elf's abilities. Legolas nodded to him in thanks, then turned to the Steward, who returned his gaze with a hard stare of his own, not openly challenging the elf, but definitely ready and willing to take on anything that Legolas had to dish out.

The hobbits and Beregond had become aware of the dispute, and watched the elf closely to see what he would do. Legolas simply met the man's hard gaze with a calm, even one of his own. For a few moments all became silent and still. The others watched and waited to see the outcome, while Aragorn and Beregond were ready to jump in and separate the two if a fight broke out. They exchanged private looks, communicating subtlety and decided that if a fight broke out Aragorn would be the one to restrain Legolas and Beregond would take down Faramir.

Faramir and Legolas, however, remained oblivious to all of this. Locked into each other's stares, they ignored everything else. Faramir for his part would have liked to have looked away from the elf prince's piercing gaze, yet found himself strangely unable to. In the fair being's eyes was an unspoken command not to look away, to see the truth and honesty in his eyes, his soul. To hear what he had to say and not let fear deafen him to the reality that he could trust him. To hear the truth of what he said. There was also a hint of regret that it took the full power of an elven gaze to make him see that this was one unknown he could put his faith in. So entranced was he by that gaze he almost didn't hear Legolas speak.

"One does not need the sight of the Eldar to see what is or what is going on around or in front of you. All you have to do is try to see it for what it actually is, not what it appears to be." His voice was soft and honest. And kind. There was no bitterness or malice in its tones. As he finished speaking Legolas's eyes softened, and Faramir felt his self-control return to him. He looked away, and spent the next few moments staring at his hands as he tried to process what had just happened. The honesty in Legolas' voice and eyes made it impossible for him not to at least give the elf the benefit of the doubt, and accept the help he had offered and the advantage to his troops it would bring.

Earlier he had been grateful for the fair-haired elf's help. But as the stress of the day and going back to the front lines after leading so disastrous an assault the last time he had lead a troop into a fight had mounted, the fear of a repeat of that event became an obsessive compulsion. That anything that could go wrong had to be addressed beforehand, and every possible weakness in their plan be eliminated.

Now he could see how his fear of failing again was creating an opportunity for disaster in and of itself. It had taken the gaze of the prince of Mirkwood to make him see that and regain control of himself. I must not let my fear of the past cause me to make the same mistakes again. Aragorn and Legolas have never been anything but honest. If they say Legolas can see the enemy's movements in the dark and can discover their intent then I will believe them. During the day his senses are far better than anyone else's that I have seen so far, except for other elves, who' are as good as his. Why should it not be any different at night? And like he said, he is from Mirkwood. If anyone should have the right to claim to have such great night vision, it is the elves of Thranduil's realm.

This calm reasoning while his head was clear and he was no longer internally panicking from fear and stress allowed Faramir to see the great strategic loss it would be if Legolas did not come with them. And Aragorn is nothing like my father was. He wouldn't send me off on some suicide mission.

In truth Denethor had sent Faramir on that doomed mission to Osgiliath, but neither had he objected or cared that his younger son was leaving on a mission that had no hope of succeeding. At least not until Faramir had returned alone of the two hundred that had ridden out, with an arrow in him and a deadly malady laid on him. Aragorn had been able to heal him, but no one could help Denethor. The madness that had long festered in the Steward's mind had become too much upon seeing his last living child in such a state, and at his bidding, and he took his own life as a result, leaving Faramir as the last living of the House to carry on in his father's place.

Faramir shook his head, refusing to dwell on such painful thoughts. Suddenly he wished he had not left Eowyn in Ithilien. She had been helping him greatly to undo all of the damage the bad relationship with his father had done, though few knew about it. He didn't want anyone else to know lest they think him unable to perform his duties as Steward. And he hated to be fussed over for such a reason, to show such an incapability to deal with something he had been dealing with for years. Eowyn he wouldn't mind talking to. As husband and wife they kept nothing from one another, and she could always tell somehow when he needed such aid. She had understood from the beginning, and had never thought less of him for it.

But Eowyn wasn't here. She was taking care of business for him back in Ithilien, and wouldn't be able to join him in the White City for at least another week. Suddenly he realized that the others were staring at him, except for Legolas, who had thankfully decided that the Steward had endured enough of his stare for awhile.

He looked around at each of his friends in turn, his gaze finally settling on Aragorn. "Forgive me, I have been under much stress, but that is no excuse for my conduct towards you."

He then turned to Legolas, who met his gaze with one that was far less potent than the last one had been. "During all of the trials of the war your senses have never lied nor led anyone astray. It was wrong of me to doubt them simply because I have not witnessed their full potential as others here have. It is no reason to distrust you and I apologize for my words to you. My troops and I would be honored and eternally grateful to have your aid. Will you still ride with us?" He quietly waited for a response. It was not long in coming.

"Of course I will still ride with you and yes I forgive you. You are not the only one to have doubted in others, and as others did not begrudge me then neither will I begrudge you now."

He shared a smile with Aragorn, who knew exactly to what the elf referred. "And I as well forgive you Faramir. I have seen others in such doubt before, and haven't held it against them; neither will I do so now."

Faramir wondered for a moment what past event the two were referring to, but did not ask, for it was none of his business. After that talk resumed, and the atmosphere became cheerful and pleasant again, with everyone pushing thoughts of the Haradrim and tomorrow to the back of their minds and simply enjoying each other's company.

The morning found the weather even more threatening. The clouds were dark and would not hold back their moisture through another night. Some were surprised it had not begun to rain the night before.

The company that was to set out for Linhinentet was assembled and ready to leave. Aragorn stood with Faramir and Legolas. "When this is over and the town secure I need you back here if you are able," Aragorn said to Faramir.

"I will when I am able my lord," Faramir answered.

Aragorn turned to Legolas. "Take care, my friend." He looked at Faramir as well. "Both of you. I curse my position now that it does not allow me to go with you."

"Do not waste your time regretting something you cannot change. We will be back, Aragorn," Legolas said. "Battle is not new to us. It will take a force far darker than the men of Harad to keep us from returning."

Above them sitting on the head of one of the tall statues scattered throughout the city Erd listened to their conversation, as is a spy's job. He gave the men and elf below him an ironic look and thought: "A force far darker than the men of Harad will keep you from returning. Though Faramir will come back. After a time."

"Nevertheless take heed. Something is making me uneasy yet it is not the Haradrim. It is something else, something better hidden. It makes me fear for your safety. Were it not for the threat to Gondor I would follow the council of my heart and bid you to stay here." Aragorn looked resigned and his eyes held a nameless worry in their depths. Legolas stepped forward and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We shall return Aragorn, I promise you. I share your unease and will be more alert for it."

He could tell the former ranger felt powerless against his foreboding, and was chafing at the knowledge that he could do naught to protect his friends once they left the city. He sympathized with him, but other than offer his reassurance to the man there was not much he could do. "If it is at all within my power, I will make sure both of us come back."

Erd looked at the elf knowingly, giving him an appraising stare. The Firstborn looked strong and capable, but lacked the unique air that surrounded only those who know magick. He cocked his head to the side. "I don't think it is within your power. But you're welcome to try anyway. I know the source of your foreboding is interested in finding a test subject for that spell he's been studying so hard." The sparrow then looked away, as if he had found something more interesting to gaze at, so none would think him unusual, though to him the thought of being normal was absurd. "Ha! If only they knew. But if they did it would foul up our plans. So it is our bliss that they remain ignorant."

Yet though a stable boy giving a horse's tack a last check before handing him off to his rider now commanded his gaze, he never ceased to listen to what the people in the group just below him were saying.

Aragorn smiled in gratitude and put his hand on the elf's shoulder, returning the gesture. "Thank you Legolas. I will hold you to that."

"And you can hold me to the same, but we should now depart," said Faramir with an honest look at his king. "If we leave now we will reach Linhinenet by mid afternoon. If the storm doesn't break on us and slow us up."

"I pray it doesn't," Aragorn answered.

Faramir turned and mounted his horse, a tall chestnut gelding with three white feet. Legolas leapt onto Arod's back, the packs containing his bedroll, armor, and other supplies secured behind him by a harness that would allow him to have the horse carry saddlebags even though he rode bareback. Beregond and the other White Company guards rode up so they would be able to surround Faramir once they were clear of the city. The hobbits joined Aragorn. They had been having a quiet conversation with Beregond and now came over to say farewell to their other friends.

"Both of you take care and come back quick now," Merry said.

"Yea," Pippin added. "I heard rumors of a feast when you come back. You wouldn't want to put that on hold now would you?"

"That was supposed to be a surprise, Pippin, and with the amount you hobbits eat we'll need them to be gone for awhile so we'll have time to prepare enough food!" Aragorn admonished. Merry elbowed his friend who was looking quite sheepish. Sam cast his eyes to the heavens and shook his head in exasperation.

Faramir, Legolas, and Beregond laughed. "In that case we'll be sure to stay in Linhinenet a few days longer!" Beregond said, holding his ribs.

"More like a few months," Legolas quipped. This time they all laughed, though Aragorn felt a twinge in his chest at the elf prince's words, but this he discarded for he knew his friend spoke only in jest.

He had faith that Legolas, Faramir, and Beregond would all come back in a few days. Whether or not he'd be nursing them back to health from various wounds and both cursing and threatening them for not complying with said nursing he wasn't sure, but he had the promise of both Legolas and Faramir that they wouldn't let anything stop them from coming back. And he knew all to well that when either made a promise, they would fight like game-cocks to keep it. He refused to think that they might not, for then he'd only pace sullen and agitated until they did, and he knew full well that neither Arwen, Legolas, Faramir, or the hobbits would stand for that.

Unnoticed by the rest of the group Frodo neither joined in with their conversation, nor laughed with them, though he managed to chuckle absently. He simply stood off to the side, and while everyone else was conversing, as he had done most of the time since they had come out to see off their friends and the other soldiers. His right hand was buried deep in the pocket of his jacket, seemingly fingering something, and he had a distracted and far away look on his face.

On his way to Gondor he had stopped to see Bilbo in Rivendell. While there Bilbo had given him a trinket that he claimed was part of the treasure he had brought back from the Lonely Mountain. It was a short gold chain and on it, in a setting of mithril, dangled a gem whose beauty he supposed could have rivaled the famed Arkenstone, for it seemed to glow like captured moonlight, fair and pure. Indeed in its round cut it seemed a miniature version of the full moon. Yet it somehow was not overly ostentatious, being only an inch in diameter, unlike the larger Heart of the Mountain.

Frodo had been puzzled by the gift, yet had taken it as Bilbo insisted that it was one of his possessions that should have gone to him with Bag End. He had only kept it when he had left to go live with the elves because it had reminded him enough of the Arkenstone that he hoped it would help him to better remember every detail he could of his adventures with Thorin and Company. Along with the log he had kept the later half of his journey, he said it was of great help to him in finishing his book. After concluding There and Back Again he had put the gem away, and had not thought of it again until just before Frodo and the other hobbits' visit on their way east, when he had been rummaging through his chest and had stumbled across it.

Still Frodo did not know what to do with it. He had no use for it and found that it was now driving him to distraction. Especially with the anxiety he had been feeling over watching the worry and foreboding in Aragorn's eyes, the tenseness in his stature whenever he thought no one was looking, and now also watching three good friends of his go off to battle.

Looking up he saw Sam bid farewell to Legolas and Faramir, the hobbits having all said goodbye to Beregond already, and realized that he had only a moment to wish them well before they left.

Walking over to Faramir he looked up at the Steward upon his tall gelding. "Bilbo used to say that walking out your door was a dangerous business, yet I pray that it be not overly dangerous for once."

On top of the statue Erd snorted in amusement and wondered if the hobbit would consider what was about to happen to the Steward 'overly dangerous'. Probably so,he decided.

Faramir leaned down to clasp the Ringbearer's hand. "I hope so too," he said.

Frodo then turned to Legolas. Later on he would never be able to look back and say exactly what caused him to do it, it was pure spur-of-the-moment impulse. But it felt like something was telling him that it was the right thing to do so he went along with it.

Reaching into his pocket he brought out the moon-like gem and reaching up placed it in the elf's hand, closing his fingers around it. "Bilbo gave this to me, yet something tells me you should be the one to keep it," he said, suddenly filled with the feeling that he had done the right thing but unsure of the elf's reaction. Unlike some, Legolas wasn't taken to wearing jewelry. The only ornament Frodo had ever seen him wear was a simple silver crown at Aragorn's coronation. But he didn't give the elf time to react as he stepped back from Arod's side to stand with Aragorn, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. "Come back safe," he said. "Thank you my friend, I will," Legolas nodded, yet before he could look at what Frodo had placed in his hand, Aragorn spoke to the entire company and he looked over at his longtime friend.

"May the blessings of the Valar go with you, and may your journey be swift. Go now with my blessings and the blessings of Gondor and its entire people. For you go now to ensure our enemies do not ruin the peace this nation has finally claimed after being denied it for so long, and we are forever grateful."

Faramir and the rest of the men then saluted the king and when he returned it the Steward gave the signal to ride out. Legolas placed his right hand over his heart and swept it outward in an elvish salute. Aragorn returned the gesture and watched as the elf urged Arod on with the others.

"Namarrie, my friends," he murmured, as they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. Try as he might he could not dispel the feeling that this would be the last time they were all of them together as thus for a long while. He steeled himself though and determined that he would find a way to get away from such thoughts somehow, as he and the hobbits turned and walked back to the House of the King. Then on impulse he redirected his path.

The hobbits at first traded questioning glances, wondering where he was going. Then they realized that the king was heading in the other direction, to the ship's keel shaped bastion of stone that all but split the city in twain from the second level all the way up to the seventh. The seventh level itself was built on top of the stone bastion, and from it one could see for miles, all the way to Mordor even.

Because of the forests and hills they could not see Linhinenet from there, though Legolas may have been able to spot the Erui River and estimate where the farming town was. But even though they had not their elven friend's far-seeing eyes, they could at least track the company's journey down the South Road for a good distance.

With but a single glance at one another they mutually consented that this was where they would stay until their friends disappeared from sight altogether. And Aragorn realized that while this was not half as reassuring to him as riding out with the company would have been, it did give him some comfort and got his mind off of the thought that he might not ever see his friends again. For few there are that could behold such a gorgeous and breathtaking view, even under threat of storm, and not find some sort of hope. Which is what Aragorn, son of Arathorn found now.

Erd waited until he saw the Steward and the elf disappear from view, and the king and hobbits walk away. Then he jumped from his perch and his wings beat a rapid tattoo in the air as he flitted back and forth in a haphazard pattern to ensure no one would think him following them. Especially the elf, who would of all of them most likely be the one to discover his trailing them if he wasn't cautious in how his behavior appeared to any that saw him.

He kept this up until the group passed out of the Great Gates and onto the fields. After that he made sure to fly high and behind them, as seasons of spy work had taught him, or low to the ground near the horses legs at the back of the group. And by employing such moves none of the two hundred men or solitary elf ever noticed that the size of their company had increased by one. Nor did the king or halfling quartet that watched over them as they traveled down the road that took them farther away from friend and family with every step.

TBC

A/N

Well, I am very well aware that it was much more than a week before this update, and I apologize for it. Constantly having to battle both family and real life agenda is not helpful in getting new chapters out quickly at all, as I'm sure some writers can relate. Anyway I got this chapter out as soon as I could and I promise you that I was working on it tirelessly. Chapter two I hope to get out sooner than chapter one, though it would go more quickly if my characters as well as Tolkien's would stop talking so much. Mine didn't do much talking since only one was in this installment, but nevertheless I did not originally plan on him doing half as much talking as he did! (sigh) They just don't realize how much space dialogue takes up. (And if my family would let me have the computer uninterrupted for a few days.....) Never did I intend to have a twenty-six page chapter! Though I'm sure you readers didn't mind it too much. Oh well. I won't deter them too much, since it enhances the quality of the fic in my opinion and gives room for some comic relief from all the angst. Angst and war and strife and all that other jazz are good but it needs in my opinion some comedy to round it all off. Other wise you just die of shock and heart failure or drown yourself in your own tears. Especially in suspense stories and tear-jerker fics.

But I've chattered enough. It's almost 1:25 in the morning and I have places to be later this morning. (I hate having to get up early, unless it's to go to a horse show. Or to beat my sisters to the computer so I can work on my fanfics. Grin) But I've idly chit-chatted enough. Now for the reviewer responses:

Partheon: Thank you so much, you were my first reviewer. (gives hug) I'm glad you thought the skeletal man was frightening. I wanted him to be but he is the first villain I've tried to write so far and I wasn't sure he would come out that way. It's good to know I've hit my mark. Because this is my first fic I sometimes feel as if someone blindfolded me, shoved me into a room, put a bow and arrow into my hands and told me to shoot a target. Only they didn't tell me where the target is! So your review made me feel a lot better. I try to correct as many errors as I can before posting, but some may still come up. I did notice I was using a semi-colon a lot but wasn't sure if it was correct of not. This chapter I used the colon more. I'm also glad that I gave away just the right amount of info. That was another thing I wasn't entirely sure of. Again I want to say thank you. I showed the reviews to my mom when I printed them out and she said yours was beautiful. And it was. It made this chapter I think come out a lot better than the last. And next chapter we get to see more of the "cute, corrupted little animals"! (grin)

Elfbabe009: Thanks also to you. I'm glad you liked the ideas. I try to get away from conventional stuff. That's why I take inspiration from a variety of sources. That's also why I used the corrupted animals. In Tolkien's books a lot of animals could talk. That means they were at least somewhat intelligent. Therefore they could probably be corrupted like people if the right tactics were used. After the ring wars Middle Earth is kinda low on bad guys and I didn't feel like writing about large groups of evil people (except the Haradrim because I needed them) or orcs. So why not animals then since they're the last group left and no one ever suspects them? Unless of course they're wargs or wolves or crebain. Therefore it's a lot more surprising to our heros when they find out a duck or chipmunk might be after them. Still I'm glad you liked it and I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for more.

Raksha the Demon: Interesting name you have. Thanks for reviewing. I updated as soon as I could. Titles don't always come easy for me. Part of the reason my other fic isn't out is because it doesn't have a name. I'm more the type of person who writes out the whole story first and then comes up with a name for it. Sindarin Fox was simply the best thing I could come up for it just by looking at my summary (which on the internet keeps changing because I think it sucks), and knowing where I ultimately want the story to go. In the end I think the name may seem more appropriate. Or if I come up with something I think better suits it I'll repost it under that. Until then, Sindarin Fox it is. Still, as long as the fic itself is good I don't think the title will kill it too much. At least I hope not. Anyway I'm glad you liked it. The evil fellow is being particularly vicious. I almost made him go sleep in the middle of the highway because he was coming up with such dastardly things to do to poor Faramir. I didn't because I need him for the story, but I did tie him up with duct tape over his mouth while I wrote this chapter. Now I have to go let him out for the next one. Maybe I'll put a choke-chain on him to keep him under control. Don't worry though. Plenty of Faramir-angst in this fic, so be sure to give him lots of hugs and hot chocolate. Save some hugs and hot coco for the others though, because they've got their share of strife coming to, especially Legolas. In some ways I think the elf gets it worse than the Steward! Glad you thought the plot looks promising, reading that made me more determined to make it intricate and multi-dimensional, like real life is, but at the same time still understandable and easy to follow.

Arayelle Lynn: Thanks. Glad you thought it sounded creepy too. Hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much, though there wasn't really much action in it except people running around and having really unfair staring contests. Next chapter has actual fight scenes in it, and the speed should pick up a bit.

As I said, reviews make me write more and get chapters out more quickly. If not for the four wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter it would have been even longer before this one came out. So all you other wonderful people out there please (gives patented Puss in Boots eyes) send one over. Remember, no flames though. Thanks. Until next time, "drink up me hearties, yo ho!" (Again, I couldn't resist. Grin)