Hey, look! I'm back again. This was a deceptively hard chapter to do, but at least it's done. Some revelations in this chapter and more questions for you all to wonder about. As always, read, review (please), and (hopefully) enjoy!

Chapter Nine: The Woods of Lothlórien

The weary miles between Moria and Lothlórien passed in a daze for the grief stricken Fellowship. Legolas walked in step with the others, stumbling occasionally on the uneven ground. If anyone had tried to speak to him then, he would not have noticed, his mind consumed with thoughts of Gandalf.

His head was aching. How could Gandalf be gone? Gandalf who had been a constant in his life for so long. Even his father had respected the wisdom of Mithrandir – a wisdom that was now lost forever.

He owed so much to Gandalf; things he'd never said thank-you for and could never repay him for. It had been Gandalf who had found him, lost and confused, wandering around Gondor after his escape from Mordor. It had been Gandalf who had convinced him to trust again, helped him find his old forgotten name, and had brought him back to his family…

Legolas jumped, startled, as a hand touched his arm. Immediately his mind reached out to the person and then relaxed.

"Aragorn?" He said quietly. His head pounded more fiercely.

"Are you all right, old friend?" Aragorn's voice was low with concern.

"I—I'm fine." Legolas gave a small start of surprise. That was not what he had intended to say. "Are we near Lórien?" It was like his mouth was moving of its own violation. Unless…Legolas's insides froze in horror. Was he losing control? Had Aragorn noticed?

"Quite close." Aragorn's tone was the same, giving no indication that he knew of Legolas's distress. "I bet if you concentrated, you could hear the birds in the trees."

"I'm having some trouble concentrating, I must admit." Some of the tension slid out of him. He had control again. Aragorn's hand squeezed his shoulder briefly.

"I understand, mellon nin." Legolas could hear the grief in Aragorn's voice. "I miss him too."

*.*.*

Legolas was aware of the second he stepped beneath the fabled trees of Lothlórien. Almost immediately the pressure in his head eased and his step felt lighter. The smell of grass and trees reminded him sharply of his own woodland home to the north. A pang of homesickness pierced him, sending doubts swirling through his mind. He knew it was likely that he'd never walk under the trees of Mirkwood again if he continued to travel with the Fellowship. Mirkwood was not far from Lórien; he could be back in Mirkwood in a few weeks. He was not bound to the Fellowship by oath, after all, as Elrond had reminded them just before they left Imladris:

"The others go with him as free companions…no oath or bond is laid on you to go further that you will."

Yet almost as soon as he had thought it, he felt a ripple of disgust. Would it be said that he, chosen of all Elves to go on this Quest, was faithless and a coward?

Never!

The drawing of bowstrings startled him out of his pensive thoughts. His mind cast around for danger, wondering how he could have missed orcs sneaking up on them. Sluggishly his brain registered that it was not orcs after all, but Elves.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," a cool smooth voice said. Legolas heard Gimli growl softly behind him. There was a tense moment as the two groups faced off with each other, neither willing to back down.

"Do friends now draw bow on friends?" Legolas said in a quiet voice, stepping forward.

"They should not," the lead Elf replied. "But in these dark days friends come less and less to Lothlórien and enemies more oft."

"Upon my honour and my house, I swear we are not your enemy."

"And which house would you claim this on?" The Elf's voice held a hint of suspicion.

"The House of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. I am his son, Legolas."

A flurry of hushed murmurs swept the Elves, shock echoing faintly in their voices, and bowstrings were eased back, the arrows returned to quivers. The Elves led the Fellowship high into one of the trees where the lead Elf introduced himself as Haldir and began to greet them properly as guests. Legolas allowed himself to relax a little, since, for the moment at least, they seemed to be safe. Until Haldir turned his attention on Frodo.

"You bring great evil here. You can go no further," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. Legolas turned on him, furious and mustered all the authority of his position.

"I, too, bring a great evil, Haldir of Lórien, or have you forgotten?" he snapped. "Yet you do not deny me passage." He could sense Haldir's surprise at his sudden rage. "You would deny Frodo passage, yet he is less of a threat than I am. If you will not let him pass then I will remain here with him."

"You will allow all of us, or none, Haldir." Aragorn added.

Haldir was silent. Legolas stood protectively near Frodo, his anger beginning to ebb. Where had such fury come from? Had Sauron taken control again and he had failed to notice?

Another mind brushed his own briefly, causing him to flinch in alarm. Who was that? Few people had the ability to touch another's mind like that.

At last Haldir spoke again: "You will follow me."