I'm so excited for you to read the 100h chapter!

Warning, this one gets like, pretty angsty.. In an introspective kind of way

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Legolas stared at the paper in front of him, wishing he was anywhere but there, doing anything but pointless translation exercises into Westron by writing 'an honest introduction'. He hated that some sort of writing exercise was mandatory for any traveling to Imladris He hated this and everybody who had brought him to this moment.

"Legolas." Ferdan snapped.

He took a deep breath and started writing before the weapons master marched over.

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An Honest Introduction,

I firstly feel obliged to inform you I'm writing this under duress, but nonetheless I shall continue because my ears just stopped ringing from this morning and frankly I don't care experience it again.

Also, I get to burn this after.

My name is Legolas Thranduillion, I'm the crowned prince and only child of my father King Thranduil, last Elvenking east of the sea. I'm a captain in my father's army, and am apart of a specialized patrol. I've been fighting an endless war for so many years that I purposefully lost count on any specifics.

My father raised me to be a good, wise, and caring person. I think I used to be all of those things, but sometimes as of late, I feel like I'm only a poor imitation. I'm not sure how I can translate all of my action of all these past years, and call them good.

I'm not sure how all of my days can be filled killing, hunting, running, and hurting and call any of it good. I'm not sure how I can remember all the names that were lost to us on my orders, how many of them died in my arms and call myself wise. I'm not sure how I can force myself not to feel just to keep going, and call myself caring.

And then I try to remind myself that it is only the darkness talking. Whispering, as it does, endlessly at the backs of our minds. I try to ignore it, sometimes I can. Sometimes I can't.

But I keep doing what I know I need to do for my people, no matter what it says to me. What it does to me.

I remind myself of how much I love to draw and paint and dance with my friends. I remind myself of the stars and the birds and the forest around me I remind myself that my father, Galion, Uncle Ferdan, Avaleina, Farlen and many other friends love me very much.

I remember that we are only defending ourselves, against an evil that will not stop until we are gone.

I would rather me suffer these fates, and my hands do these deeds than for the responsibility to fall to another. Because until either every last one of us is dead, or the darkness is vanquished there will always need to be another.

I would rather that they remain a good, wise, and caring person than for me to come all this way and give up.

I can survive being a shell for a while longer.

My name is Legolas Thranduilion, and this is my honest introduction: I know I can be good again, someday, but I'm trying my best until then.

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He stood from the table the moment it was finished, showing Ferdan from across the room for hardly a second to prove it as in Westron and of sufficient length before he balled it up. With perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm he threw it in the fire.

Without looking back at anybody else who was writing in the same room he walked out and into the hall.

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Hope you liked it!