A/N Thanks so much to Shirebound and UnnamedElement for your encouraging reviews. On with chapter two, hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two: The Sorcery of Samwise Gamgee

Once Legolas had gathered himself sufficiently, they both made their way back to Fellowship House, sharing an easy quiet unlike the tense silence in which they had set out. Eventually, Gimli asked,

'Have you spoken to Aragorn about this yet?'

Legolas shook his head. 'He sent a note along with my father's missive. His messenger to Eryn Galen-Lasgalen, now actually- returned late last night then gave his report early this morning and delivered the missive for me. Aragorn wanted to give it to me personally but he's in council all day and he didn't want to make me wait any longer than I had to or hear the tidings by rumour before I was told.'

'Ruddy councils!' Gimli spluttered. 'He's the king! Why can't he just move them?'

'He did have a few choice words about the irrelevance of the things the councils were discussing, compared with his desire to give me these tidings personally, but we both know politics doesn't work like that. I'm glad he didn't drop everything because of this. I would not have been pleased with him if he had upset half his kingdom three weeks into his reign just to deliver a letter.'

Gimli heaved a sigh. 'I know, I suppose we're going to have to get used to sharing him with a kingdom. Doesn't mean I have to like it.'

'It is partly my own fault, too,' Legolas admitted. 'He did tell me to come to the palace at around noon and catch him to talk about it then, but I wasn't quite- well, I didn't.'

He was expecting Gimli to pry further into his motivations for not speaking with Aragorn, perhaps scold him for keeping things to himself, so he was most relieved when Gimli simply said, 'I'm sure he'll understand. How much does he know?'

'Just the political situation, I believe. He got the official report, but my letter was a personal one from my father.'

'And how does your father fare?' Gimli asked, realising that Legolas had not said much on this subject and imagining Glóin's reaction if he could see his son asking after the Elvenking's welfare. It would probably involve turning puce, at the very least.

'Claims he is unhurt,' Legolas responded, his tone showing exactly how little he was inclined to believe this.

'Ah,' Gimli raised an eyebrow. 'Runs in the family then, does it?'

Legolas threw him a sharp glance, catching Gimli's reference to the aftermath of the Pelennor (1) and wordlessly warning the Dwarf not to go there. Ever. If he wanted to retain his limbs.

'I have no idea what you're talking about.' Gimli hastily stifled a chuckle, which earned him another glare. 'Anyway, the missive is in his hand and he is being infuriatingly close, which suggests that he has thought through carefully what to tell me and what not to tell me, so he can't be badly injured. And I would just know, if it was serious. But unhurt? He didn't say, but I know without him telling me that he led the charge. He is a formidable warrior, but I am not inclined to believe that he escaped that without some sort of injury.'

'Perhaps you're right. But you driving yourself to distraction guessing how he's hurt won't help, you know.'

Legolas sighed. 'I know. He survived, the kingdom survived, and they're safe enough now. That's miraculous enough in itself.'

'Well, hold onto that then, laddie.' Gimli reflected for a minute and then said, 'you implied that you think there are things he's not telling you. But what you told me earlier sounded quite… detailed.'

'He's told me what he has to tell me. He knows I'd never forgive him if he let me believe that Thelion, Aratur and Brondir were alive and then came home to find-'

He broke off for a second and looked away. 'If they weren't there when I came home. And he knew I'd be wondering about Feredir once I heard that Dol Guldur had fallen, and that I'd have felt the change in Arturon. But he's not telling me much about the actual battle. I don't know how close it was, and he's not given me casualty numbers. All he says is that there were 'grievous losses.' 'Grievous losses'- I ask you, could he have been more evasive? What does that even mean? Does that mean we lost a fifth of our army? A third? A half? More, even? My people know well what it is to pay a heavy price for victory, so if even Ada describes the losses as grievous... How much of the forest did they burn? How close to my father's halls did the enemy come? Were any of those losses elves who were not warriors? How long will the healing of the forest take? Will it ever fully heal, after centuries of the Shadow and then Dol Guldur's parting shot?'

He shook his head and huffed in exasperation. 'Grievous losses. Two words that say too much and not enough.' He looked across to Gimli, who was watching him with concern after this outburst. 'My apologies. I don't really know where that came from.'

'Your heart, I think. It cries out for the fate of your homeland and your people. And you have no need to apologise for that. Especially not to me.'

Legolas swallowed hard and nodded. 'Mellon nín. What would I do without you?'

Gimli chuckled. 'Doesn't bear thinking about.' By now they had reached their temporary home in Minas Tirith and slipped inside, only to meet Sam on his way downstairs. Catching sight of Legolas' red-rimmed eyes and tearstained cheeks, he immediately cried out,

'Mr Legolas, sir! Whatever's the matter?'

'I am quite alright, Sam,' Legolas replied, with an attempt at a reassuring smile. Gimli quickly stepped in to translate.

'What he means to say, Sam, is that he is not at all alright at the moment and he would very much appreciate a cup of tea, if you don't mind.'

Legolas glared at him and Gimli smiled sweetly back.

'Right you are, Gimli, I'll get the kettle on. I'm sorry about whatever's happened, Legolas. I'll help in whatever way I can.'

Legolas ceased his glaring at Gimli to smile gratefully at Sam. 'Thank you, Sam. Though you need not trouble yourself, I am capable of making myself a drink, despite Gimli's Dwarvish misconceptions about my abilities.'

'Begging your pardon, sir, but I'll do it, it's no bother. I was about to put on a pot for afternoon tea anyways and it's always better shared.'

'Legolas, for once in your life accept a friendly gesture with some grace and have done with it!' Gimli chimed in, his tone a mixture of amusement and irritation.

Legolas held up his hands in surrender. 'It seems I am outnumbered, then. Thank you, my friends. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I shall go and refresh myself and come back down for the tea. I must look quite a sight.'

Sam tactfully did not answer this, but Gimli commented with a gentle smile, 'I won't lie, lad, you've looked better. And so have I, I'd wager. I better change my tunic. We'll be down in a minute.'

And he stumped upstairs, leaving Sam to wonder how on earth Gimli's tunic had got so thoroughly drenched when it hadn't been raining.

When a suitably dry Gimli returned to the sitting room, he found Legolas looking considerably more like his usual self, only the faintest hint of redness around his eyes witnessing to the events earlier in the afternoon. Sam was in the process of extolling the virtues of the various pastries and cakes on the table before him, trying to coax Legolas into picking one of them, firmly believing in the hobbit philosophy that there were few issues for which food was not the answer. Caught between Gimli's stern, though slightly amused, expression and Sam's concerned, determined one, Legolas now had no escape and eventually picked up a slice of apple tart, thanking Sam profusely and making him blush. Gimli needed no such persuasion and helped himself to some carrot cake, wondering idly how on earth Sam kept their house constantly supplied with such treats on what was essentially post-war rations. The hobbit himself was fascinated by tales of elven magic, but Sam's ability to create a delicious feast out of odds and ends was a magic all his own. As was his ability to provide companionship and encourage others to trust him, Gimli realised over the next few minutes, as he watched Legolas open up to the hobbit with an unexpected ease. After serving them all some tea and picking up a slice of the tart for himself, Sam settled himself into one of the hobbit-sized chairs and said,

'Now, sir, I'm not one to understand elven sorrows, and I'm sure whatever it is, is way above my head. So you don't need to bother explaining it to me, if you don't want to, I'll understand, but if the ear of a hobbit can be any help at all, there's a pair of them right here ready to listen sir.'

'Thank you, Sam. That is very kind of you. Although, I wonder if you noticed you're 'sir'-ing again?'

Sam gave himself a mock slap on the wrist and chuckled.

'Sorry, Legolas. I know you remind me all the time. It's just instinct, see. Samwise Gamgee on first name terms with a prince o' the Fair Folk? I still can't get my head around it, even after all this time.'

'I should think we've all seen things far more incredible than that, in the past year. In fact, that's one thing I don't find hard to believe at all,' Legolas replied gently, making Sam blush again.

'A friendship between an Elf and a Dwarf, perhaps? Now that's hard to believe,' Gimli remarked with a wink at Legolas.

'Aye, if you told me that, I would say you had lost your wits,' Legolas replied without missing a beat.

'And I would ask to hear the tale, for it's sure to be a great one,' Sam concluded merrily.

'You don't need me to tell you the tale, you saw it unfold! But in fact, I think I shall avail myself of that pair of listening hobbit ears for the matter which presses on my heart, if you don't mind, Sam?'

Sam nodded earnestly. 'I'll do my best to understand si-, I mean, Legolas.'

'Don't worry, it's nothing complicated. I don't think a love of home is exclusive to elves.'

Sam went wide-eyed. 'It's about Mir- Greenwood, then?'

Legolas smiled at Sam's self-correction. About two centuries ago, Legolas had finally given up the fight to stop others referring to his home as Mirkwood and had even caught himself doing it in his bleaker moments. Thus, by the time the Fellowship set out he had become inured to it, and his home was always 'Mirkwood' in their conversations, even if he personally avoided the term for the most part. However, once he had explained the history of his home to Sam, the hobbit had declared that he would refer to the forest as 'Greenwood' from that point on. When Legolas had told him he need not worry over it, the hobbit had shrugged and said, 'we all need to hold on to a bit of hope, sir,' and strode off to tend to Bill before Legolas could respond or continue his crusade to stop the hobbit calling him 'sir'. Sam would often stumble over the word after that, the name he'd heard so many times in Bilbo's stories slipping out before he could stop it, but unfailingly, every time, he remembered and corrected himself. It was a small gesture of solidarity, but one that brought more hope to Legolas than he had ever been able to express.

This made the tidings he was about to share even more significant, and he was reminded that Sam had had unshakeable faith in the power of his kin to lift the shadow from their wood, along with its associated name, even when he himself was close to despair. It was always Greenwood to Sam, ever since he learned of our situation, even when it was Mirkwood to me, he realised. He felt a lump forming in his throat, suddenly moved by an emotion he could not name, even as he smiled and said,

'Yes, Sam. I had a letter from home this morning. It is Mirkwood no longer. The Greenwood will be restored to itself, as you always had faith it would. They have renamed it Eryn Lasgalen, Wood of the Green Leaves.' Legolas' eyes glistened as he said this, and he stared into the distance for a moment, entranced by the vision of a green and vibrant forest only he could see.

'I knew your folk'd come through in the end! Oh, Legolas, you must be thrilled!' Sam declared with a quiet conviction, after the moment had passed and Legolas looked down again, blinking.

'And I am. You must be wondering why I'm so upset when we finally triumphed. It's silly, really.'

'I don't think it's silly, Legolas,' Sam pronounced with an almost startling certainty in his voice. 'I don't know the ins and outs of it, but you've been fighting this since way before Bilbo's business, haven't you?'

'Yes,' Legolas replied, a little surprised at how quickly Sam had hit on the heart of the matter. 'A long time before Bilbo's business, as you call it. Most of my life, in fact.'

'Then you've just heard that something that you've been hoping for and working for your entire life has been finished. It'd be silly not to be affected by that.'

Legolas stared down thoughtfully at his cup of tea. 'I hadn't thought of it like that,' he said at last. 'I suppose you're right.'

'And I think congratulations are in order,' Sam said in a lighter tone.

Legolas looked up again with an achingly sad smile and such hurt in his eyes that Gimli had to look away.

'No, they're not, Sam,' he said softly. 'I wasn't there.'

Ah, thought Gimli, and there's that guilt. I wondered where it was lurking. He broke into the conversation.

'It's still your forest. And you've been defending it for longer than I care to think about. Just because you were fighting evil elsewhere at the end doesn't mean it's not your victory, too.'

Legolas clenched his jaw. 'Three of my good friends gave their lives so that this victory could happen. And I wasn't there to give mine, to defend them. It is their victory. Never mine. Yet in the injustice of the world I live to reap the fruits of their labours. I don't even know if they lived long enough to know we won- or rather, they won.'

'I'm sorry, Legolas,' Sam breathed, horrified. 'I didn't know.'

Legolas shook his head. 'I hadn't said. Thelion, Aratur and Brondir. They were all captains, excellent ones, all older than me, better than me. They deserved to see the end of this. If I could trade my place with theirs…'

'Then the Quest may have failed, or they might have been killed at any of the dangerous places on our road. You are old enough and wise enough to know the dangers of 'what if', Legolas,' Gimli chided gently.

'Am I?' he swirled his teacup absent-mindedly. 'More dangerous, less wise, they say of us Silvans. Perhaps I am allowed my unwise speculation.'

Gimli looked like he had something to say to that, but Sam cut in quickly, perhaps realising that the ensuing debate was unlikely to be helpful at this point. 'Was there anything else in your letter, Legolas?'

Legolas steadied himself before he next spoke, and unlike when he had recited his news to Gimli in a state of shocked numbness earlier, this time the wobble trying to creep into his voice was only too audible. 'Aye. My immediate family all escaped relatively unscathed. It sounds like the final battle was vicious and there were-,' the bitterness of the word in his mouth was evident, 'grievous losses. I'm not entirely sure how bad it was, but certainly parts of the forest have been destroyed and many of our warriors fell. My nearest friend at home, Arturon, lost his right hand in the battle, I don't know how. He gave his life to the art of the bow. He honed it for two millennia. That's always been my greatest fear, you know. Not death, but losing part of myself and having to carry on. And now one of my closest friends is living it.'

He took a few shaky breaths and Sam was about to speak when Gimli almost imperceptibly shook his head. It was probably better for Legolas to let all of this out in one go.

'And another friend, who was captured when Gollum escaped partly due to my inadequacy, was rescued from Dol Guldur. He might recover enough to sail, or he might fade. They just know he won't be healed here after what he suffered. Those are all the details Adar saw fit to tell me.' He closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath, blew it out and then opened his eyes to see the worried faces of his companions. 'I'll be alright. It's just-' He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it.

'All a bit much at once?' Sam suggested gently. Gimli winced. Sam's tone was compassionate and understanding, not a bit patronising, but Gimli himself would have been far too cautious of Legolas' pride to use that wording. He braced himself for the inevitable backlash. To his astonishment, it did not come, and instead Legolas nodded slowly.

'Aye, Sam. It's all a bit much.'

Gimli caught himself with his jaw dropped open, and promptly closed it again before Legolas could notice. What kind of sorcerer are you, Samwise Gamgee, and what have you done with my Elf? he wondered, astonished. He watched in awe as Sam nodded understandingly and reached out from his chair to catch Legolas' hand in his. He looked a little unsure of himself once he'd done it, but Legolas looked back at him in surprised gratitude, and squeezed the tiny hand in his gently to let him know that the gesture was appreciated. They stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just extending the moment of companionship and support for as long as they possibly could. Eventually Legolas released Sam's hand and ran his own through his hair, newly combed after its encounter with Gimli's beard. Then he said,

'I think the worst part is the not being there, not knowing exactly what damage was done, not knowing who died beyond a few select people my father chose to tell me about, not being able to help them recover. And the fact that I couldn't help them fight.'

He clenched his hand and tapped it a few times on the arm of his chair, the only visible outlet of his frustration.

'You did help them fight, though, Legolas,' Sam said quietly. 'You don't have to be in your home to fight for it. What do you think kept me and Frodo going in Mordor, then?'

Legolas blinked, startled by the question. 'I don't know. I didn't like to ask, bringing up memories of that terrible place.'

'Well, I'll tell you now,' Sam declared, eyes blazing. 'It was the Shire, and each other. Every step across that plain, in the barrenness, the dust and those awful smokes, that was for the rolling hills and the green fields and the gentle people of the Shire, so that they could stay that way. Towards the end, when it got really bad, Frodo couldn't remember, couldn't see anything other than him and that accursed Ring. So I did my best to remember for both of us, and I thought of my Frodo, back at his desk in Bag End, writing about his adventures in safety and comfort, and I thought of my Rosie, teasing me when she brings round some of her ma's apple pie, and I thought that unless I put one foot in front of the other, all these people, all these places I love, are going to disappear. And I'm not having that. So I went on. I'd imagine it was similar for you, wasn't it? You fought like you did because you loved both the people fighting beside you and your forest back home and the folk there.'

Sam looked back at Legolas expectantly. He nodded, truthfully, but remained silent, as if afraid to break the spell which had suddenly revealed to them the steel hiding inside their gentle hobbit gardener, the steel that took him all the way to Mount Doom.

'Well, if we hadn't done what we did, the Shire would have become like Mordor. And if you, and Strider, and Gimli, and all the rest, hadn't done what you did, distracting him for us like that, your forest would have become like Mordor too, and Gimli's mountain, and Strider's city as well. So if I could fight for the Shire by walking through Mordor, it's plain to see that you did everything you could to make your forest into the Wood of the Greenleaves, even though that was by fighting somewhere else. So it really is your victory too. And they'll be grateful to you, and proud, I'm sure of that. They'll answer to me if they're not!'

Sam gave a huge huff as he finished this impromptu oration and then seemed to suddenly shrink as he realised that two stunned pairs of eyes were fixed on him.

'If you don't mind me saying, sirs,' he added belatedly. Legolas had gone completely still, and Gimli could see the anxiety in Sam's eyes, the cogs turning in his mind as he tried to work out if he'd said the wrong thing. Then suddenly, Legolas rose from his chair, knelt in front of Sam's smaller one, and swept the hobbit forwards into an enormous hug. Sam looked more than a little perplexed as Legolas moved towards him, unsure what he was about to do, until at last he realised what was happening. Then his expression changed from nervous confusion to awestruck wonder, as it slowly registered with him that he was being embraced by one of the Firstborn as if Sam were the most precious thing in existence. For a moment his arms hovered a little awkwardly, and he seemed unsure what to do with them, as though he didn't really believe that his usually reserved friend would permit him to reciprocate. Legolas, however, made no sign of moving, so he tentatively brought his arms to rest draped around the Elf's shoulders. Then with more enthusiasm, and a murmured 'there, now,' he hugged him in return, his shorter arms barely reaching the whole way across Legolas' back. Gimli, looking on, was most definitely not crying. Dwarves, he told himself, were not the sentimental sort of beings who could shed a tear just because an emotional Elf hugged a hobbit. Especially not a hardy warrior-Dwarf of Erebor. And if his eyes were a little on the watery side today, then that of course was just coincidental.

Eventually, Sam very gingerly patted Legolas on the back and said, in a tone of gentle concern,

'Now, then, what's all this about? I expect I just rambled on about what you already knew.'

'Maybe, but the thing is, Sam,' came Legolas' voice, slightly muffled from where his head was resting against Sam's shoulder, 'I think I believe it now.'

(1) Not a reference to any of my stories, more to fanon Legolas in general. Change the name of the battle if necessary and feel free to insert your favourite 'Legolas says he's fine and hides symptoms then dramatically collapses causing serious consternation for all concerned' fic here. You seriously don't need me to write another, fun as they undoubtedly are, FFN provides an excellent selection. Alternative fanfic sites are also available. ;-)