I. Champion
Third Age 1890
(613 years later)

Legolas rose before dawn, eager to be on his way. He dressed quickly and gathered up the small bag with lembas he had packed late the night before. He slipped silently through the halls, hoping to avoid detection. He was less than successful. Haldor stood at the gate, almost as if awaiting his appearance.

Haldor greeted his prince with a nod. "You are up early this morning," he said. "I would have thought you in need of more rest after last night's celebration."

"It was a long night," Legolas admitted, "but I have matters of which to attend."

"Of course," Haldor nodded. "I will let your father know you left to tour the southern watches."

Legolas had no intention of touring the border. He was certain Haldor knew it, too. Slightly confused, but unwilling to correct Haldor's mistake, Legolas nodded. "Thank you, Haldor."

The lord said no more. He merely nodded and allowed Legolas to pass before closing the gate behind him.

The sun had barely greeted the world when Legolas found a deer and rode off with him in a southerly direction. Legolas was awhile riding before the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Haldor was a kind ellon, and loyal, too. The lord would never lie to his king. And he would not have to lie, for Legolas, indeed, rode south.

It was not so very long a ride to Limrond with a swift mount, though each time Legolas made the journey the distance felt farther still. He emerged from the wood to find that the forest had inched even closer to the old palace gates. The archery fields were swallowed centuries ago, followed little by little by this and that parcel of land. There were too few deer lingering near the entrance to keep the saplings at bay and too few elves to maintain the open spaces.

Legolas was greeted at the gate by a silent guardian whom he did not recognize. The warden bowed low, for he had recognized Legolas, and then swiftly opened the gates. He returned the warden's greeting with a nod before passing inside.

Legolas wandered the quiet halls in dismay. It had been some time since he last visited Limrond and the palace had grown even more desolate in the intervening years. It should not have come as a surprise to him. Legolas was well aware of the southern border's steady creep northward. After the court abandoned Limrond only the local Silvan elves remained, and most of them preferred to live amongst the trees.

There were so few living now within the walls that whole sections of Limrond had been abandoned. So it was that the passageway to the royal quarters was no longer lit. Legolas removed the last torch from the wall in the adjacent hall to guide his way. The light was not strictly necessary. Legolas could navigate to his childhood room by memory. When he arrived at the door he found the room in the same state as the last time he left it, untouched, but for signs that someone came from time to time to keep the dust at bay. Legolas did not know who that someone was, but he thanked them silently upon every return.

Legolas crossed the room, but despite the lightness of his step, he left the outline of footprints on the ground behind him. At the far end of the room, near the cold hearth, stood an elegantly carved dresser which had been made for him at his mother's behest. Upon it were laid half a dozen items, each carefully arranged around a center stone. Legolas dug in his bag and withdrew the gold arrow from its linen wrap. He set the item before the carving of his mother's hands cradling a son of stone.

Legolas spoke aloud. "I won," he said. "Father was proud, though he did his best to show no favoritism before the crowd."

Legolas grinned at the memory of his first champion title, one his mother had chance to witness. "It was a little more challenging than hunting snails, and it took a hundred years longer than I had hoped. I know I would have claimed the title sooner if you had been here to train me."

Legolas reached out and rested the tips of his fingers on his mother's sculpted hand.

"I wish I knew for certain that you are listening. You told me that the souls residing with Mandos can hear and see everything and I want to believe you are right." Legolas shook his head. "If you can hear me, I expect you are laughing at how ridiculous it is for me to travel all this way to talk to you. But you understand why."

Legolas shut his eyes and pushed back against his own frustration and anger. "No one speaks your name anymore. They refuse even to talk about you. It is as if the whole of Greenwood has erased you from memory. I understand why they do it. They know it hurts him and they do not want him to suffer needlessly. I, too, want to protect him. That is why I come here to be with you."

Legolas opened his eyes and with the hem of his sleeve wiped away a tear that escaped his hold. "I will continue to watch over him in your stead. I promise."

Legolas took a deep breath to gather himself, but before he withdrew his hand from the dresser, he tapped the gold arrow. "The next trophy will be for the knives," he declared. "I will talk to you then. And maybe by that time you will have been reborn, and I will be standing here talking to myself. I hope it will be so."

Legolas allowed his gaze to wander around the room. It lingered on shadows of ancient memories. Memories of love and light. He walked to the door, and standing upon the threshold, he whispered, "I love you," into the darkness of the room before closing it behind him.