Note: This story deals in the 'present' day of Legolas' thought as well as a few flash backs he experiences. The latter will be placed after or between horizontal lines.

Chapter Note: There are parts of the dialog in this chapter that are lifted directly from the text of The Fellowship of the Ring. I will place them in italics to separate them from the rest of the story. I know I could have changed what they said, but I think Tolkien knew what he was doing when he chose those words, and I think it's better to keep them that way.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything about them.

Legolas smiled at the colours of autumn as they presented themselves splendidly along the road to Imladris. He laughed with his fellow riders at the birds and squirrels as they played among the trees and enjoyed the beautiful day while it unfolded into a pleasant afternoon. He stroked the mane of his horse and sang softly to himself. The path to the hidden valley was breathtakingly beautiful, but it did not entirely block out the reservations Legolas felt about his visit. The elf had reasons other than the precarious situation in which Middle- earth was finding itself to fret about what was not going to be a peaceful visit. Legolas had not spoken with Aragorn in several years, not since the man had unloaded on him. They didn't even speak in the recent months that brought Aragorn to Mirkwood. No, the silence was louder than any words could have been during that visit. And, to be sure, there would be words once Legolas' primary reason for making his journey to Elrond's city became clear.

He did not know exactly how it came about, but Gollum escaped, and elves died in the process. Mirkwood elves. There was an emptiness in Legolas' heart that he was certain could never be filled after what he had witnessed. Death was not entirely new to him, but he was less familiar with it than mortals, and it stung him bitterly and deeply. He had known those elves for thousands of years. Sorrow was not unknown to him, but it did not come any easier because of wisdom. Legolas could not linger on his thoughts of death, for they fast approached the halls of Elrond, where he would be expected to explain a lot that he did not want to explain.

The Council of Elrond was a nasty affair, or, at least, it was for Legolas. At any other time, he would have been delighted to be surrounded by so many people with so many stories, especially Gandalf and Elrond, but today he was going to have to drop news that would likely devastate many of the people around him, and, worst of all, he would have to say it in front of Aragorn. The man had spent much of the Council avoiding his gaze. Even when he spoke, his eyes seemed to pass over Legolas. And the news the Ranger provided, along with what Gandalf had to say, showed Legolas' tidings to be far worse than he had imagined. He could no longer delay in his delivery.

'Alas, alas!' he cried, and he was much distressed. His face felt tight with his emotions as he told the Council that Gollum had escaped. Any relief he might have felt from letting go the news was quickly dissipated when Aragorn spoke in response.

'Escaped?' he said, almost disbelieving. Gollum got away from Mirkwood? How could that be possible? He glared and spoke in a voice far more harsh than he would have liked. 'That is ill news indeed. We shall all rue it bitterly, I fear.' There was a look on Legolas' face that told Aragorn he should stop talking, immediately, but he continued, and his words jumped out with bitterness. 'How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?' As soon as he said it, he realised he had gone too far. He did not need the ice of Legolas' reply to cool him off, but he received it.

Legolas narrowed his eyes and spoke through tight lips, biting out the words with frost on his voice, slowly. 'Not through lack of watchfulness,' he said; 'but perhaps through over-kindliness.' He spoke on, telling of the day that Gollum escaped during an attack, and he even welcomed the interruption of the Dwarf so that he could calm himself before finishing his tale. Gandalf seemed far less distressed than Legolas would have guessed, but it did nothing to thaw the cold of his mind as he stared through tight eyes at Aragorn.

The rest of the Council went on with no further interaction between Aragorn and Legolas, at least, not in the form of audible conversation. The man allowed himself to become enraged with the elf, simply because he realised that Legolas was angry with him, and even though he knew it was arbitrary and probably undeserved, he allowed it to grow until Elrond called for the Council to end and he went immediately to follow the elf into the gardens. There were words in his heart.

'What is it, Aragorn?' asked Legolas, who heard the heavy footfalls of the man trailing behind him. He did not turn around, but he could imagine the look on his friend's face, at least, he had fairly certain it was the same expression Aragorn had painted on for the bulk of the afternoon. Legolas' blue eyes closed and he sighed, finally turning to meet the eyes that stared at him. 'What is it, Aragorn?' he asked again.

'You elves would be better served with shorter memories,' spat Aragorn, and he clenched his fists at his sides. He had no idea why he was so furious; he only knew that he was, and that it was entirely directed at Legolas.

'Pardon?'

The quizzical look on Legolas' face softened Aragorn's heart a little, but not enough to stop him from uttering what he realised was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Of course, he only realised that after he said it, and by that time, he expected death to come quickly at the pale hands across from him. He said, 'Oh, can you no longer read my mind, friend? You were once so good at it, as I recall.'

'Aragorn,' said Legolas, smoothly; 'If you are accusing me of something, decide of what, and say it.'

'Surely you can forget actions from years past long enough to do your duty to this land,' spat Aragorn. He was more annoyed by the lack of response from Legolas than he thought he would have been by the reply he expected, and he realised that Legolas must think him merely daft and not worth his emotion. 'Surely you, Legolas, of all people, understand the importance of these days! How could you let the creature escape merely to spite me for words said decades ago? Or is it not so long ago in your raging heart?'

At this, Legolas' gaze caught fire and nearly melted the steel of Aragorn's eyes. He narrowed his eyes and breathed in, deeply, before stepping close enough to the man in front of him that his hair whipped around Aragorn's shoulders as the wind blew, seemingly to aid Legolas in making clear his point. His voice drifted from behind clenched teeth, lined with ice and fire and raw feeling. 'Do you not hear yourself, Estel? Can you not understand what you are saying, truly?' He paused, but never glanced away from Aragorn. 'Elves died that day, elves who were fighting for this land, in these days. Orcs came, Estel, and surely you can remember Orcs, if you remember nothing else.'

The use of his elf-given name was not lost on Aragorn, and he closed his eyes tightly to seal out the pain emanating from Legolas. When he next opened them, Legolas was shaking his head sadly. His marine eyes were darkened with his feelings, even as his hair sparkled in the sunshine. Aragorn opened his mouth to reply, but could think of nothing. He was a fool, but he didn't think telling Legolas of his knowledge would be enough to fix the damage. He watched as Legolas turned and began to slide away over the grass, and reached out to catch a deceptively slim wrist. 'Legolas,' he whispered, but the powerful flexing of the elf's arm told him to let go, and he instantly dropped his grip. The eyes told him not to speak, only to watch as he once again drove his best friend from the gardens.