A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed! Seeing 37 emails from Fanfiction (so far) in my inbox made my day! :)

The next morning, Aragorn was the first to awaken, and he yawned and stretched, rubbing his eyes, before stumbling to his feet and shaking Boromir, Gimli, and the hobbits into wakefulness.

Groaning, they all packed up the camp, and Aragorn did a head count in his mind.

One, two, three, four five, six, seven, and himself. Who was missing?

Legolas! The memory of the previous night hit him full force, and he looked around frantically before hurrying over to Gandalf.

"Gandalf, Legolas still has not returned," he said, and the Maia looked up at him from under the wide rim of his hat.

"We shall look for him, then," said Gandalf, getting to his feet and grabbing his staff with a sigh. "He will not have gone far. He knows he would need to be here to fight if there was trouble."

Aragorn nodded and announced the plan to the rest of the group. Everyone looked a little worried when the heard Legolas had not returned, but they agreed he would not have gone far, and they headed into the forest to look.

A ten or fifteen minute walk brought them to a heartbreaking sight. Legolas was up in one of the higher branches of a tree, and even from the ground the group could see the tear tracks on his face. His hands were held protectively around a small brown squirrel that was sleeping on his chest, and it was obvious that he had been trying to comfort himself and he had failed. His eyes were half-lidded when he slept, showing his exhaustion.

Aragorn, being the tallest and the best climber in the group, slowly made his way up to the branch. When he got there, he put his hand on Legolas's shoulder.

"Legolas, mellon-nin, you need to wake up, we have to leave."

Legolas's eyes regained awareness more slowly than normal, and Aragorn looked him over worriedly. The squirrel also returned to life and, seeing Aragorn, ran away from Legolas and back into the trees.

"Are you alright, mellon-nin?" said Aragorn, taking Legolas's shoulders. His voice became even more worried as he saw the Legolas was refusing to meet his eyes.

The elf gave a brief, wordless nod, and Aragorn suppressed as sigh as he jumped down to a lower branch with the grace of his people.

The man followed more slowly.

It was obvious immediately that Legolas was trying to ignore the prying gazes of the rest of the Fellowship, and he sighed and ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. Aragorn frowned. Elves didn't get tired.

"Let us be off," said Gandalf, walking in the direction they were meant to go and the rest of the group followed behind him. The hobbits occasionally glanced at Legolas, but he ignored them, instead letting his fingers brush against the trees and he listened to their comforting whispers. Their voices were far much more welcome than the voices of any of the mortals around him.

"Mister Legolas?"

A small voice from beside him made the elf's head snap up, and his mind was torn from the voice of the tree that he had been speaking with a moment ago. He looked at Pippin, who was the one trying to get his attention.

The rest of the group were also staring at him strangely, and he realized he was several yards in front of them.

"Mister Legolas? Did you hear what Mister Gandalf said?"

Legolas shook his head slightly, and Pippin saw a sadness in the usual bright eyes that he knew no mortal could ever understand. It would take years of grieving and feeling guilty to create eyes like that, he thought. Longer than a mortal could ever dream of living.

"He said that we are going to stop for a minute for lunch."

Legolas gave a little nod, but he could not bring himself to even smile at the young hobbit as horrifying images of his past continued to flash before his eyes. Pippin looked distressed at the lack of the elf's usual enthusiasm, but he told himself it was just lingering sadness and that the old Legolas would soon return.

Legolas stood far apart from the rest of the group, half watching as they all made tense conversation and looked at his over their shoulders, and half trying to push back the tide of memories that was overwhelming him. But he could not bring himself to speak to them to ease their hearts.

"Legolas? Are you not hungry, mellon-nin?" said Aragorn, approaching his friend, who stood hugging himself gently, as if he were cold.

There was the breeze that always accompanied the coming of winter, but elves did not feel the cold. He told himself it was just an attempt at comfort.

Legolas shook his head, his golden hair whirling around in the wind and making him look like an angel. A sad, remorseful angel.

"Are you alright, Legolas?" said the ranger, grabbing his friend's strong forearms and turning him toward him. "I know that Gimli's words were harsh and inconsiderate, but I did not expect them to affect you so."

Legolas shook his head.

Not the words, mellon-nin. The memories they provoke is what troubles me.

"It is nothing, Estel," he said, so quietly the ranger almost couldn't hear it. "I am fine."

"Please, Legolas, I know you are not," Aragorn said, and he tried to fix his words as his friend's eyes hardened considerably. "I only worry for you, mellon-nin."

Legolas shook his head.

"Don't. I will be fine."

Aragorn noticed that Legolas had switched from "am" to "will be", and he looked abruptly at the elf, who realized his slip but didn't have time to respond in term when another biting early winter wind blew through the trees. Aragorn bit hard on his tongue to keep from groaning at the sudden cold, and when it passed he was utterly shocked to see that Legolas was hugging himself, shivering violently.

"Legolas!" he said, realizing that the elf's sudden sensitivity to the cold was real. Aragorn took the cloak he was wearing and quickly wrapped it around the slim, shaking shoulders.

"Aragorn, Legolas! We need to be going," said Gandalf, and Aragorn saw that Legolas's eyes went completely devoid of emotion as he looked at the dwarf by the wizard's side. Anger he could understand and reason with, but emptiness would give him no answers.

"Mister Legolas? Why are you wearing Strider's cloak? I thought elves didn't get cold!" said Sam, as the two approached, and Aragorn shrugged his shoulders, letting Legolas's somewhat subdued but still obvious shivering speak for itself as he went to the head of the group, where Gandalf was walking.

"Gandalf, something is very wrong with Legolas," he said, and the wizard looked up abruptly, having known the young elf since birth and having grown to care deeply for him.

"What makes you saw that? And what on Arda are you doing without your cloak? You'll catch a chill," said Gandalf.

"Legolas is wearing it. He's feeling the cold, Gandalf! What could be wrong with him?"

"STRIDER!"

The scream of Aragorn's name, torn from four mouths, made him whip around. Boromir, who had been walking in front of Legolas, had apparently turned, having heard a noise from behind him. The hobbits were surrounding him.

And now the elf lay, pale and unconscious, in his arms.

A/N: Ooooh, cliffie!

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