It took three days for the group to reach the forest of Eryn Vorn. They traveled quickly and did not stop for rest. Once they arrived, Legolas was surprised by the forest. It was small in size, but its trees were laid thick. Dense were its branches, and little sunlight found its way through. Glorfindel entered first, with no fear or doubt in his eyes. But Legolas listened to the song of the trees, and it was low and solemn, a song of time long gone and of lost kin and violence. He said nothing of it, for although the forest heavied his heart, it was probable that Maglor would hide in such a solemn place. Legolas entered the forest after Glorfindel and looked back at Voronwë's doubtful face.

"Come, it will not be bad," Legolas assured, and Voronwë followed silently.

They made camp deep into the forest near the sea which lay far below them over a cliff. Voronwë sat at its edge and watched the waves and did not join them until nightfall. They spent much of the next day in silence, listening for any sign of life. Legolas moved through the trees, searching for anything at all that could mean the son of Feanor's presence, but found none. The trees would not speak to him. They did not hear him through their songs of woe. When the trio regrouped, they deemed the mission to this forest a failure.

"Tomorrow we shall move on from this place," Glorfindel said, his own heart heavy.

"This forest sickens me," Voronwë said softly, his knees drawn up to his chest.

"Its story is a sad one," Glorfindel said with a sigh. "I thought perhaps this sadness may have been partly from Maglor, but I was wrong."

Legolas fell asleep to Voronwë and Glorfindel's voices, dreaming of his father. He missed him, and he had put his father through so much worry for so long, he felt guilty being on the quest. They were always so close, but this time, Legolas felt he was betraying his father in a way. His father was right, he was not there, and did not see the violence and the destruction of the Feanorians. His father had. But Legolas believed in forgiveness if one was sorry for their actions. It sounded childish, and he did sometimes wonder if his father was right. Was he kidding himself? Legolas tossed and turned over his father's words and looks of betrayal, and suddenly woke with a violent start.

The forest was silent, but terror shook through the forest, their branches bending and shaking. Something was coming. The wind ripped through the trees with a loud moan, and Glorfindel and Voronwë woke, startled. Legolas drew his bow and watched the trees. Voronwë and Glorfindel turned to face the same way, their swords drawn. An arrow tore by Legolas' ear, and he drew and fired at the source, a cry following. Several men burst into their small clearing, and Legolas fired and fell one after another. They were dressed grotesquely, the heads, limbs, furs and skins of dead animals hanging off of them. Blood smeared on their faces in strange design. Legolas had never seen men like these before. Glorfindel beheaded another and Voronwë pushed one off the cliff. The rest fled in terror, and Legolas put his arrow back in his quiver.

Voronwë was holding his shoulder, and blood seeped through his fingers. "I'm alright," he waved at Legolas. "Just a scratch from a blade."

Glorfindel sheathed his sword and Voronwë moved his hand to let him look. "It was not poisoned. But the wound is dirty, and we must clean it. I'll go back to the spring we saw." Legolas and Voronwë both nodded, and Glorfindel jogged into the forest.

Voronwë sat on a nearby rock and sighed. "He said something," he said softly, "and I do not know what he said."

"Who?"

"The man I pushed. He said something to me just before, and I do not know what he said."

"You do not speak westron?" Voronwë shook his head. "It does not matter. He is gone and there is no returning to the past. He was trying to kill you, it was in self-defense."

Voronwë got no chance to respond, as Glorfindel walked over, his water-skin in his hand. He poured water on his wound and pulled a small pouch from his bag. He pressed the dried leaves into the wound and Voronwë hissed.

"I am sorry. Why don't we try to get some more rest, before moving on?"

They all agreed, and Legolas fell back asleep next to Voronwë, dreamless.

It was Voronwë who woke him in the morning, and they set out from the forest toward Bree. Legolas was familiar with the area, and with a hand carved canoe that took him half a day, they rowed to Sarn Ford, and by nightfall, they were on the Andreth Greenway toward Bree. It began to rain halfway there, and Legolas was simply anxious to get to Bree and to have something to eat. With Aragorn and Gimli, he was not travelling at the speed they were travelling now. While one part of him was relieved to be with others of his kind that could not tire or grown ill and did not require food or water; he did miss the comforts of resting and eating regularly. But there was no way he would complain in front of these two. Voronwë spent seven years lost at sea, and Glorfindel died fighting a balrog and returned to continue to fight the darkness. Legolas could walk without complaining.

It was quite late when they arrived in Bree, but the prancing pony was still lively, and the laughter of men resonated through the street. When they entered, the eyes of the room fell on them. It fell silent, and drinks were set down in surprise. Legolas put down his hood and approached the barman.

"We would like a room- if this establishment still offers them," he said quietly.

The barman swallowed nervously, "of course, sir. You can choose any one you like. Would you like just one room?"

"Yes. We wish to stay together."

The barman nodded and grabbed his keys from a hook. They followed the nervous man up a flight of stairs, and he let them into a large room. He lit several of the candles, and one incredibly large bed lay by the fire. It was crude compared to Valinor, and Legolas read it on Voronwë's face. He smiled to himself, and the man took off his hat and stood before Legolas.

"Will that be all, sirs?"

"Yes, thank you for your hospitality."

"Let me know if there is anything else I can help you with."

He left them, and Glorfindel set his bag on the bed. "I do not speak on your behalf, but I tire of Lembas."

Legolas nodded with a smirk, "as do I."

Voronwe smiled and followed them down the stairs.

The men were quiet as the entered, and all eyes followed them to their corner table. The barman walked over, and the three of them ordered stew and ale. Legolas ate hungrily. He had forgotten the heartiness that mannish food could offer. He finished his ale and stood to get more. Glorfindel handed him his glass and Legolas smirked and took it with him. He placed the glasses on the bar, and the man next to him was watching him suspiciously.

"What brings you and your friends to these parts?" He asked, and the other men were listening.

"A private affair. Nothing of concern," Legolas said, annoyed by the man's tone.

"It is of my concern. Your kind hasn't been seen here in well over a century, and seeing you again, well it makes me nervous."

"There are still elves in Middle Earth. You are too far to the West to see them, but elves still dwell in the East."

The man eyed him suspiciously, and sipped his beer, "I have a strange feeling the clothing you bear is not from the East, but the West, beyond this world."

Legolas looked back at the table, and turned back to the man, "you are mistaken." He took the two drinks from the barman and returned to the table. "Perhaps we should retire, we are spreading fear with our presence."

Glorfindel shook his head, and pulled out Legolas' chair for him. "Nay, I shall finish my drink first."

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