Hail, my readers! Part III of IV is up! I really like this one so please be kind and REVIEW my darlings!

Disclaimers: All characters and place names copyright the estate of Mr. John Ronald Reuel Tolkien. Scenes from the movie are replicated as accurately as possible (with surprisingly little embellishment, truth be told) and are of course copyright Peter Jackson et al. "Into the West" is a song by Fran Walsh/Annie Lennox (though technically songs are not copyrighted, I just thought you should know). Finally, it is important to note that Chapter Three contains lemony content, so...if that bothers you, beware.

Elvish translations at the bottom of the page. )

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Part III: Lórien

1: Into Lothlórien

The Fellowship burst from the gloom of Moria into the brilliant sunlight for the first time in days, but the homecoming to the surface world was not nearly as jubilant as it should have been. There had been far greater evils lurking in the bowels of Moria than mere Orcs, creatures of darkness as old as the world itself.

While the rest of the Fellowship broke down with grief at the sudden loss of Mithrandir on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, Legolas stood off by himself, trying to piece together what had happened. As an immortal creature, he was unfamiliar with the concept of death. It perplexed him. In the blink of an eye, the old Wizard was gone forever. Though he had walked the earth for nearly three thousand years, Legolas did not understand this simple end that all mortals faced.

Aragorn spoke suddenly, a grief-stricken note ringing clearly in his voice. "Legolas, get them up," he ordered.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir pleaded.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs," Aragorn persisted. "We must reach the woods of Lothlórien."

The mention of Lothlórien was a glimmer of hope in the darkness that pervaded the Misty Mountains. Legolas was certain he would find comfort in Haldir's arms. Since the day of the Fellowship's departure from Rivendell, he had longed for the Marchwarden's face, his touch, his overconfident smirk. He drew a deep sigh to steady his unsteady breathing, attempting to swallow the grief in his throat as Aragorn barked, "Come, Boromir, Legolas. Gimli, get them up!"

The enormous trees of Lothlórien were nothing like those of Thranduil's kingdom. Mirkwood's trees were black and carpeted with moss, and they blocked out every ray of sunlight, leaving the forest floor in constant gloom. Lothlórien, by contrast, was awash with sunshine, the trunks of the gray-white trees gilded with light. Legolas could see now why Haldir so adored his home. It was one of the most beautiful places in Middle Earth.

"Stay close, young Hobbits!" Gimli growled, making as much noise as possible in the leaf litter on the path. Imbecile. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell. And are never seen again."

As he had expected, Legolas heard the voice of the "witch" inside his own mind—a device the Lady Galadriel employed far more often than was necessary. "I know what it is you seek, Legolas Greenleaf," she murmured to him. Legolas tried to seem unperturbed, treading softly and confidently on the ancient forest path while Galadriel continued. "I have seen his mind. He begs Elbereth every day to grant you safety. And his prayers shall be answered, as shall yours. Sooner than you think."

Something caught Legolas's attention, just as Galadriel withdrew from his mind. A snapping twig, perhaps, or a rustling in the undergrowth.

"Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox," Gimli bragged before walking straight into an arrow.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," Haldir said snidely, his honey-smooth baritone dripping with that familiar arrogance. It was all Legolas could do to restrain himself from tackling the Marchwarden with an assault of kisses.

Haldir was both shocked and incredibly relieved to see Legolas in one piece, especially so soon. When he and his brothers had heard a company crashing through the forest, they had assumed it was a stray pack of Orcs. Seeing the Prince of Mirkwood made his heart sing.

Orophin and Rúmil were quick to draw their bows on the Dwarf near the front of the line, not a plan Haldir had intended. He made a mental note to severely reprimand them later, covering the unintended blow of cover with a satisfying insult to the Dwarf race. Seeing the hint of a smile on Legolas's lips at the comment made it all worthwhile.

Haldir turned his emerald eyes on the princeling, fighting to keep his expression from betraying his heart. He stared evenly at the Prince of Mirkwood, deliberately locking eyes with him. He fought not to smile at the hint of color that crept into Legolas's cheeks, but one corner of his mouth twisted into a wry grin anyway. "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion," he said evenly, making a reverent and formal gesture.

Legolas hesitated for a split second, looking as if he were choking on lust. His eyes gleamed as he responded, almost too forcefully, "Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien.[snp1 "

Haldir cocked his head, wondering what Legolas could have meant by that. As of yet, all Haldir and his brothers had done was bar the Fellowship from entering Lórien. He glanced briefly at the princeling, the slightest hint of a smug simper on his lips. Legolas stared back, looking a little too enamored for the presence of young Hobbits and the all-too-perceptive Aragorn. Orophin and Rúmil hardly merited comment; Haldir did not particularly care that they knew of the secret affair.

Haldir then turned his gaze on Aragorn, lest it become obvious that Legolas was the only member of the Fellowship that concerned him. "A Aragorn in Dúnedain, istannen le ammen,[snp2 " he said, using the same formal gesture he had when speaking to Legolas—but carefully dousing the blatantly lustful light in his eyes.

"Hennaid,[snp3 " Isildur's heir said modestly.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves!" the Dwarf blustered. "Speak words we can all understand!"

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days," Haldir said icily, his upper lip convulsing in a silent snarl. Leave it to Elrond to include a rude, gluttonous Dwarf.

"And do you know what this Dwarf says to that?" the mound of hair and leather fired back. "Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul!"

Haldir stiffened subconsciously, all expression instantly draining from his face. He was not sure exactly what the Dwarf had said, but he did recognize the tone as meaning something along the lines of, "Fuck you all."

Aragorn apparently knew the exact translation, judging by the way he grabbed the Dwarf by the arm roughly and hissed, "That was not so courteous."

Haldir started when he heard the voice of Galadriel whispering to him. "One of the Hobbits brings a great evil into Lórien," she warned.

Haldir coolly surveyed the four Hobbits, trying to figure out which one could possess the Ring to which Galadriel was undoubtedly referring. He settled on a panicky, constipated-looking Hobbit who was staring oddly at him. Sure enough, a faint whisper of the Black Tongue met his ears as the Dark Lord attempted to entice him. "You bring great evil with you," Haldir said sternly. He then turned back to Aragorn, who seemed to be the elected leader of the motley bunch. "You can go no further," he said brusquely, then strode away abruptly.

Aragorn was instantly in Haldir's wake with a bushel of pleas. Haldir had to fight to keep himself from constantly stealing glances at Legolas, who was facing away from him, staring at nothing as he was apt to do. Haldir hardly heard Aragorn's urgent begging, despite the Man's violent gesturing only inches from his face. Very irritating. Legolas turned to glance at Haldir over his shoulder, and the Marchwarden winked as discreetly as he could.

It suddenly hit him, however, that he would never get Legolas into Caras Galadhon without the entire Fellowship in tow, Ring included, despite the fact that his inner instinct warned him against bringing a thing so evil into Elven territory. Then again, the Ring had been in Rivendell for a considerable amount of time with no repercussions…

The Marchwarden finally decided that it was a risk he would have to take. He put on as icy an expression as he could muster with Legolas so near at hand and said abruptly, "You will follow me."

Haldir grinned inwardly at the faint smile that bloomed on Legolas's face. He was instantly certain it had been a risk well taken.

2: For Me the Grief Is Still Too Near

Haldir led the Fellowship up a hill in the forest, miffed by the fact that Orophin and Rúmil seemed to be making a point of situating themselves between their elder brother and the Prince of Mirkwood. Unfortunately, he was forced to remain stoic, as the golden sunshine would have surely betrayed even the slightest hint of a scowl.

As they came to the crest of the hill, Haldir was elated to note that Legolas literally flew up behind him, accidentally—or purposefully?—brushing the bottom hem of the Marchwarden's tunic with his fingertips. The touch dangerously accelerated Haldir's pulse. A smile lit his face as he announced proudly, "Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn—and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."

As always, the view of Celeborn and Galadriel's grand court was breathtaking—and, had it not been for the nine pesky witnesses, a rather romantic setting. The Lord and Lady's stronghold was perched precariously on a steep, rocky hill which was dotted with bushy green trees that clung to the precipices like ticks. The rising sun behind the hill lit Caras Galadhon with a golden glow, and every cloud in the background had a silver lining. Beyond the Elven stronghold, the rest of Lothlórien sprawled on and on toward the distant horizon, fading from gold to lavender to a deep blue that had not yet been graced by the sun. Through the corner of his eye, Haldir could see Legolas staring rapturously at the vast expanse before them. True, the forest of Lothlórien was infinitely more beautiful than Mirkwood, despite the fact that Mirkwood contained a dashing prince.

The Marchwarden guided the Fellowship up the glittering spiral staircases inside Caras Galadhon to the brilliant throne room of Celeborn and Galadriel. Haldir stood at attention as the equally brilliant Lord and Lady strode elegantly toward their waiting guests, hand in hand. The Hobbits seemed especially thunderstruck by the regal glow that surrounded the two Elves.

Celeborn spoke slowly, deliberately. After so many eons walking Middle Earth he had learned to neither squander words nor hoard them. He surveyed the Fellowship quietly before he said, "The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." He paused uncertainly, his gaze flitting over the visitors quickly. "Eight there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

Galadriel glanced briefly at Legolas, who lowered his head sadly. Haldir reasoned she must have asked him about Mithrandir's whereabouts. His suspicions were confirmed when Galadriel said softly, "He has fallen into shadow."

"He was taken by both shadow and flame. A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria," Legolas said, grief ringing clearly in his voice. Haldir longed to go to him but knew he could not.

While Celeborn droned on pessimistically, Galadriel spoke to each member of the Fellowship in turn, dipping into one mind after another. The whore. Haldir was hardly surprised when she decided to give him a word of enigmatic and disturbing advice too: "The more you love him, the deeper you will hurt him."

Haldir and his brothers showed the members of the Fellowship to a place where they could rest in relative solitude. The Dwarf settled right in and was snoring away within minutes. Finally, Haldir found an opportunity to remove Legolas from the presence of the others without seeming suspicious. He led the princeling behind a knot of trees, holding the Elf's hand lightly with the tips of his fingers. Once he was certain they had found privacy, he murmured, "Finally," grabbed Legolas by the front of his tunic, and bowled him over in a sweeping, theatrical dip-kiss.

"Haldir—" Legolas started to protest, but he was instantly silenced with a kiss.

The Marchwarden pressed on anyway, cradling Legolas's head in one hand while the other crept down the back of his thigh. "Do you know how I have missed you, my little princeling?" he murmured between kisses.

"Stop it!" Legolas snapped suddenly. Haldir accidentally dropped him in surprise, causing Legolas to fall hard on his back with a quiet "Oof."

"What? What is wrong?" Haldir questioned, searching Legolas's face for answers. He was alarmed to note that there were tears pricking his ice-blue eyes.

"Mithrandir is dead!" the Prince of Mirkwood hissed, fighting to keep his voice low. "I was eager to seek you here for comfort, not…not this!" He sniffed back tears raggedly. "Sweet Elbereth, I need a few drinks…"

Haldir blinked, stunned into humility. "Forgive me, Legolas," he mumbled. "I was wrong to assume… Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No. Just leave me alone. For me the grief is still too near to give you what you want."

With that, he stormed off, leaving Haldir alone and humiliated. He could hear Legolas tersely explain to the curious Halflings that the Elves of Lórien were singing a lament for Gandalf. One made the mistake of inquiring as to the translation.

"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas told them. "For me the grief is still too near."

Haldir crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he should be sympathetic or angry. This grieving over Mithrandir thing was going to be a definite problem.

3: Midnight in Caras Galadhon

Legolas's mind was restless that midnight in Caras Galadhon, even as the rest of the Fellowship—including the edgy Boromir—slept peacefully under the Lórien stars. He crossed his arms behind his neck and stared up at the leaves and the starlight, still grappling with his confusion about Mithrandir's death.

He was partly angry and partly relieved when Haldir's silhouette materialized above him. He said softly, "Goheno nîn, Legolas.[snp4 I…I did not realize Mithrandir meant so much to you."

"It's not that," Legolas whispered. "It is only the thought of losing someone so suddenly that frightens me. What if immortality is not guaranteed? The thought is almost more than I can bear."

The Marchwarden leaned over Legolas in the darkness, his perfectly-formed shoulders and pointed ears outlined in silvery-white by the moonlight. He bent forward and kissed Legolas gently on the lips. Legolas could feel the heat of his breath when he murmured, "Then let me ease your pain."

Haldir hardly waited for a response before he had locked the princeling in a deep kiss, forceful but somehow not overpowering. The Marchwarden seemed to see no need to assert the dominance he often strove for in the biting verbal attacks to which he had subjected the Fellowship. His touch was strong but gentle, protecting and wildly liberating at the same time.

Haldir's kisses migrated to the soft column of Legolas's exposed neck. Legolas let his eyes slip shut gently as Haldir nibbled playfully with his lips. Haldir smirked against the princeling's neck when he noticed Legolas's pleasure. He pulled back, one knee on either side of Legolas's waist, and gazed heatedly at the other Elf. The arrogance had melted out of his eyes, the judgmental and superior gleam had faded, replaced now with the glow of adoration and passion.

Hadir grinned naughtily and brought Legolas's silver tunic over his head with a gentle tug. He discarded the tunic on the dewy grass next to him before removing his own, inch by excruciating inch. Legolas's pulse hammered wildly in his ears when Haldir's chest was finally laid bare in the moonlight, every muscle outlined in silvery moonlight and already shimmering with beads of sweat. Legolas's hands moved gently down the Marchwarden's forearms to his fingertips, letting his lips linger on Haldir's. Haldir let his own hands slowly creep up the curve of Legolas's waist, kissing the princeling everywhere he dared as he squirmed out of his leggings. Legolas's heartbeat spiked when Haldir reached for his waist and brought his leggings down in one swift jerk. Then there was nothing between them but their own skin.

Legolas wrapped his arms around Haldir's neck and drew him to his lips, the Marchwarden's skin like fire against his bare chest. He tilted his head back and trembled as Haldir kissed every inch of his body, his breaths coming in ragged, impassioned pants. Haldir stroked Legolas's hair back with one hand and hooked his free arm around the other Elf's waist. Legolas arched his back as Haldir's fingers trailed quickly down his spine, letting his head rest against Haldir's cheek. He could feel the Marchwarden's hot, husky panting on his ear, and it made his heart race even faster, overwhelmed by the adrenaline and lust. He went rigid for a second when Haldir plunged inside him and released a shuddering gasp of pleasure, melting instantly in the Marchwarden's arms.

Legolas's heart leapt to his throat when he peered over Haldir's glistening shoulder to see Frodo gaping at the two Elves writhing in the dewy grass, evidently back from his late-night visit to Galadriel already. He also apparently found far more pleasure in watching them than any Halfling should have, judging by the bulge in his breeches. Legolas could not suppress a low moan as Haldir thrust deeper, unaware of the Hobbit behind him.

Noting the moan, the color drained from Frodo's face. The Hobbit slammed a finger against his lips and hissed, "Quiet! You'll wake the others!"

Upon hearing the Halfling's voice, Haldir threw his head over his shoulder, staring heatedly at Frodo as he said huskily, "You can be as loud as the hell you want when you're making love, Frodo Baggins."

Legolas gasped sharply as Haldir plunged even deeper, his attention instantly drawn away from the unwelcome onlooker. Time seemed to speed blindingly by as the two Elves were swept away in the passion coursing through their bodies. All too soon, the Marchwarden withdrew slowly, and he gradually pulled his lips away from Legolas's. Haldir collapsed on the grass next to Legolas, panting loudly. Legolas's own chest heaved, his body deliciously exhausted. Haldir turned his face toward Legolas's and whispered hoarsely, "Do you feel better now, my little princeling?"

"Tancave, mellon nîn. Hannon le,[snp5 " Legolas answered, still struggling to tame his erratic breathing.

A lewd smirk exploded across Haldir's face, and he and replied instantly, "Glassen.[snp6 "

Frodo gulped uncomfortably and removed himself from the vicinity, no doubt inspired to go rape the fat Halfling known as Sam.

4: Reflections

The next morning, Legolas found Galadriel standing serenely in a grassy courtyard, a silver pitcher in her hand. She beckoned the Prince of Mirkwood to approach with a nod of her head and asked him, "Will you look into the mirror?"

"What will I see?" Legolas asked cautiously.

The Lady of Light smiled enigmatically as she poured the contents of the pitcher into a silver bowl. "Even the wisest cannot tell."

Legolas rested his hands on either side of the mirror and peered into it. The surface shimmered, and an image of Haldir's arrival in Mirkwood materialized. Legolas blushed when he saw Haldir give him a peck on each cheek and ducked his head quickly, hoping that Galadriel had not seen the color in his cheeks. Judging by the small smile that bloomed on her features, he had not succeeded.

Then the reflection changed to Thranduil's stern, icy face. Legolas could read that painful word on his lips: "Abomination." A forlorn, grave Haldir then filed out of Mirkwood, looking very much betrayed after being sent into exile. Legolas felt a twinge of hatred for his father flare up in the depths of his heart.

The image in the mirror flickered to a scene from Rivendell, a teary-eyed Haldir biting his lip as he surveyed the Council of Elrond from a balcony above the circle of chairs. He saw a likeness of himself stand and kneel before a small Hobbit, and Haldir turned away.

The reflection changed one more time. Legolas swallowed hard when he recognized the glade in which he and Haldir had slept rather unchastely the night before. One glimpse of Haldir's naked backside shot a bolt of excitement through his body, and he quickly backpedaled away from the mirror, feeling his cheeks flaming. Galadriel smirked at him, displaying more cruel amusement than Legolas had known she even possessed.

He forced himself to look at Galadriel and tried to tell her, "Ignore that last incident, my lady—"

Galadriel laughed musically. "I do not know what it is you saw, Legolas Greenleaf. Judging by your reaction, however, it must have been something quite entertaining. 'Tis a shame that I missed out."

Legolas heaved a shaky sigh. "Yes, it is a shame," he said weakly. Then he stumbled out of the courtyard, his knees shaking. His night with Haldir proved even more arousing the second time around.

Haldir saw Legolas bolt out of the courtyard which housed Galadriel's mirror, smiling at the princeling's crimson cheeks. He leaned against a nearby tree and said, "I take it you made the mistake of looking into her mirror. Really, really great, hmm?"

Legolas stopped short, his eyes as big as saucers. He nodded, speechless, before he said, "For porn."

Haldir chuckled at Legolas's panicked expression, wondering how many exploits he had relived by gazing into the water. "The Lady has asked me to look into it today," Haldir continued, hoping a little conversation would calm the princeling somewhat. "She rarely does that. Usually she leaves it up to my own will to examine my life. I wonder what it is that she saw." He raised one eyebrow at Legolas. "You don't suppose she saw us, do you?"

"That is what I saw," Legolas said breathlessly.

"Ah, and I am sure it was even steamier the second time, eh?"

Legolas blinked, a sure sign of shock. "You are a fiend," he accused, though the teasing edge to his voice, along with his sparkling eyes, betrayed his insincerity.

Haldir could not suppress a huge smirk. "Yes, but I am an incredibly good-looking fiend, aren't I?"

Legolas shook his head a little as he stumbled off. "I need a drink."

"Don't drink too much; you may awaken to find yourself between a couple of Hobbits. Frodo and Sam, if I had to guess."

Galadriel greeted Haldir formally when he entered the courtyard and gestured at the mirror. "Look into the mirror, Haldir," she urged. "It would be cruel to not show you your own fate."

Haldir peered suspiciously at Galadriel and inquired, "What is it that you have seen, my lady? What does the future hold for me that troubles you so?"

"Look," Galadriel repeated, an impatient edge to her voice.

Haldir hesitantly peeked over the rim of the mirror, apprehensive about what he would see. The water inside the bowl changed instantly into a black night, the thick thunderclouds in the sky blocking out every feeble star. Haldir saw himself in rain-spattered armor, feverishly battling enormous, brutish Orcs—no, they were somehow different, larger, stronger, blacker. He heard the voice of Aragorn, of all people, calling to him. Just when he turned to go, the image began to spin uncontrollably, spiraling madly like a wounded sparrow. Then the only thing Haldir saw was the blood-flecked faces of the fallen soldiers of Lórien, cold and lifeless.

Haldir tore his gaze away from the mirror, his breaths coming in mad gasps. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand and said to Galadriel, "You have seen my death?"

Galadriel nodded elegantly. "I have seen you fall to the iron fist of Isengard. I have seen despair, I have seen death, I have seen a losing battle slip steadily toward oblivion." She paused, releasing the slightest hint of a forlorn and tortured sigh. "I have seen Legolas Thranduilion's heart break."

Haldir struggled to choke down tears of despair. "But…will he be all right? Will he live?"

"He may yet survive the nightmare that lies ahead of him. But know, Haldir, that the more you love him, the deeper you will hurt him. You know this in your heart to be true."

"But it is hypothetical, of course. The future from which the mirror draws its reflections is not absolute."

Galadriel surveyed the Marchwarden sadly. "There are some things that must come to pass," she said softly.

5: Farewell to Haldir

The Fellowship prepared to move onward all too soon, spurred on by Celeborn's whispered warnings of some new evil pouring out of Isengard. Galadriel generously bestowed Elven gifts on the members of the quest.

A band of Elves also outfitted the Fellowship in Elven cloaks, and they were even generous enough to provide boats for the company to traverse the River Anduin. Legolas hurriedly shoved things into his boat—lembas, Galadriel's gift, Gimli—before stealing away to find Haldir. He crept stealthily down the path into the heart of Lothlórien, constantly scanning the underbrush for signs of the Marchwarden.

The princeling started when he suddenly felt a hand on his arm. The next thing he knew, he had been dragged into a thicket peppered with athelas weeds, swept up in one of Haldir's dominating kisses. Legolas returned the Marchwarden's love feverishly, yearning to remain with him until the end of his days.

Eventually, Haldir had to end the kiss in order to breathe. He glanced up and down the length of Legolas's body briefly, as if he were trying to memorize the Prince of Mirkwood's shape, before he said breathlessly, "You will not let this whole saving Middle Earth thing go to your head, will you? You'll still be the same naïve, adorable imbecile when you return?"

"Of course. I promise," Legolas said solemnly.

"Swear to me you will not attempt to do anything too heroic. No death-defying stunts. No swinging onto horses or riding shields down stairs or scaling large animals in a single bound. Swear it."

After some hesitation, Legolas told him, "I swear."

"Do not stray from Aragorn's side. He will protect you. I believe Sauron will not conquer him." Haldir paused for a moment, weighing whether or not to continue. "And I would advise you to befriend one of them. Safety in numbers kind of thing. Stick to him like a tick."

"The Dwarf," Legolas decided. "The Hobbits are all thick as thieves, Aragorn has Boromir, and Mithrandir is dead. That leaves Gimli. Unfortunately."

"One of the many adverse effects of being the only one of our kind on this quest, hmm? But who knows? He may not be as repulsive as he seems." Big smirk. "But I doubt it."

"You never told me what you saw in Galadriel's mirror."

Haldir sighed sadly, shaking his head. "I have not the heart to tell you. No sense in burdening you with grief that should not be yours to bear." He fell silent, listening intently as Celeborn spoke to Aragorn about the Orcs patrolling the banks of the Great River. A look of wistful sadness crossed Haldir's handsome face. "The time has come for you to depart these lands, Legolas Thranduilion. We will meet again, in this life or the next."

Legolas wrapped his arms around Haldir's waist and rested his head on the Marchwarden's shoulder, making a last effort to memorize his scent. "Le melon.[snp7 You will not forget me, will you, Haldir?"

Haldir smiled gently. "Still an imbecile, I see. How could I forget the one I love?" he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of Legolas's eyes.

Legolas felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He hesitantly offered a suggestion, desperate to hold onto what little he had. "Perhaps you could come with us—"

"I cannot, Legolas. I have my duties to the Lady Galadriel. As much as I would like to leave all this behind, I cannot." He kissed Legolas one last time. "Go back to your Fellowship before they question your absence. We cannot have them wondering where a blushing little princeling could possibly wander off to at every opportunity, can we?"

Legolas smiled a little. "Namárië. I will think of you always."

"Try not to. Obsessions invariably turn out badly."

Legolas reluctantly turned to go but eagerly stopped when Haldir spoke again. "Legolas? You may want to do something about those tears. Suspicious behavior for an Elf in your position."

Legolas smiled, drying his eyes with the back of his sleeve as he made his way back to the rest of the Fellowship.

The Fellowship paddled away from Caras Galadhon in an entrancing morning mist. Galadriel stood on the riverbank, one hand raised in blessing as the little boats floated past her. Legolas took a deep breath of morning air to calm himself. This second farewell was at once somehow easier and more difficult to bear than the departure from Rivendell, clearing the way for an even more uncertain future.

Legolas was instantly calmed when he noticed the Marchwarden standing not far from Galadriel on the riverbank, his arms crossed smugly as he arrogantly surveyed the departing Fellowship. The Marchwarden fixed his emerald eyes on Legolas and winked as discreetly as he could, a faint smirk on his lips. It made Legolas's heart skip a beat, and he could not stop a smile from spreading across his angelic features.

And then Haldir disappeared, growing smaller and smaller as the Anduin swept Legolas further away from his beloved—a study in fate.

[snp1Our Fellowship stand in your debt, Haldir of Lorien.

[snp2And Aragorn of the Dunadain, you are known to us.

[snp3Thanks.

[snp4Forgive me, Legolas.

[snp5Yes, my friend. Thank you.

[snp6My pleasure.

[snp7I love you.