The War of Light and Shadow

By Freddie23

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Disclaimer: I own nothing Tolkien created.

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Chapter 22 – Elrond Peredhel

As Legolas followed the quiet major domo through the distantly familiar hallways, he felt nerves beginning to niggle at him. He didn't know why he should be nervous about this upcoming meeting exactly. He and Elrond had been friends once, long ago. And even if the Elven Lord didn't recognise him it should not matter; he would simply get what he needed from the wise one and leave armed with information and renewed confidence. The trouble was, Legolas realised as he mulled these thoughts over on his way to see the Lord of Rivendell, he still wasn't entirely certain what it was he actually needed and wanted from the ancient, wise Elf he had once called friend; much in the same way as he had not known what he needed or wanted from Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn when he'd dragged Aragorn all the way to Lothlorien. And yet, just like on the road to Lorien, he'd felt oddly compelled to return to Rivendell, to seek advice and help from one he considered to be infinitely more enlightened than himself.

"Legolas, we're here," Erestor's loud voice echoed in his head, startling Legolas from his overly confused thoughts and he looked up to find the other Elf had stopped before a set of tall doors that Legolas immediately recognised to be the entrance to Lord Elrond's private chambers. "Just through there. He is expecting you." Erestor opened the door to the dark room for him. "I hope you find all you are looking for."

Swallowing nervously and ignoring Erestor's somewhat pessimistic tone, Legolas smiled, "Thank you." And then he stepped across the threshold somewhat uncertainly. He had no cause to be nervous and yet he lingered in the doorway long after Erestor had left him alone. No sound came from the dark room but the crackling from the fire burning in the hearth in the soft, almost cosy lounge area. The room was unusually sparse, only a couch, table – admittedly piled high with all manner of clutter - and an armchair. It was this final, supposedly innocuous piece of furniture that kept Legolas frozen to the spot – or rather the pale figure who occupied it.

Unsure whether Elrond had even heard his entrance, Legolas pushed the door closed quietly, even though there was no one left around to interrupt them, then took a couple of steps towards the seemingly oblivious Elrond, his heart pounding hard in his chest as he approached.

As Legolas came to his side, Elrond cocked his head slightly and said in a husky voice, "You can leave the tray, Erestor," and held out a plate still containing food with a trembling hand for his advisor to take.

Legolas, unsure of what else to do, reached out and took the plate without comment.

After a moment on continued quiet, Elrond sighed softly, leaning his head back. "No lecture for me today, Erestor?"

The blonde opened his mouth to speak but could think of nothing to say to break the ice. Erestor had forewarned him that the Lord of Imladris had changed drastically over the years and yet he still did not feel entirely prepared for all this. The words were not those of the strong, unflappable Elrond. They sounded somehow wrong and Legolas did not know what to make of this new Elrond sat before him.

"Hm," Elrond mused in a voice that even though recognisable to Legolas still seemed disconcertingly unfamiliar. "The silent treatment? A little below you as a form of protest, my old friend."

Clearing his throat so he was able to speak at last, Legolas softly corrected him in his own language, "It is not Erestor, Lord Elrond."

Confusion creased the dark-haired Elf's face and he turned his head slightly towards the voice, revealing pale gaunt features, made to look even sharper by the flickering orange firelight, and shining brown eyes. "Then who?" he asked even though he was squinting through the dim light straight at his blonde guest.

Stepping closer, Legolas laid his hand hesitantly upon Elrond's frail arm and declared, "It is I. Legolas."

The Elven Lord's frown morphed into a sudden look of surprise but then a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, looking strange as if it hadn't performed the action in a long time. "Legolas," he chuckled gladly around the word, reaching over to delicately pat Legolas' hand, which remained resting lightly on his arm. "Yes, Erestor said you had come." He laughed softly to himself again and admitted, "I confess, I did not quite believe him."

"I can understand that."

Elrond smiled across at him. "I was beginning to think no one would ever come."

"I understand that too."

Legolas moved around the front of the chair and Elrond's eyes followed him closely. The prince of Mirkwood crouched before him.

"Lord Elrond, I have come a long way to speak with you."

"Yes, of course." Elrond released Legolas' hand at last and sat up straighter in his chair, attempting to appear more business-like before the prince although it didn't quite have the desired effect. He just looked…old. "Shall I have Erestor bring you some tea?"

"No, thank you, sir. He has taken good care of me since my arrival."

"I have no doubt. He is a good assistant." Legolas nodded in agreement, a little concerned by both the fact that Elrond referred to his old friend and most trusted advisor as a mere 'assistant' and also by Elrond's seeming continued lack of coherency as he spoke. "Please," Lord Elrond offered, "Sit down."

Legolas slowly stood then pulled up a chair close to the Lord of Rivendell and sat before him so they could speak.

"So, tell me why you are here, Thranduilion."

"I came here to seek the council of the Wise."

This seemed to amuse Elrond as he smiled and adjusted the front of his fine, burgundy and gold robes, which were by now horribly creased and ill-fitting on his emaciated form, almost proudly. "My help?" he asked cheerily.

"Yes, sir. I require your advice on a problem I have."

Changing from entertained to serious in an instant, Elrond folded his hands and rested them in a neat clasp in his lap before nodding solemnly then prompting, "Continue."

"What do you know of the line of Isildur?"

Elrond frowned but answered, "I know that it is long lost, beyond all reach."

"I have it on good authority that it has been found," Legolas told him, wanting to gauge the Elven Lord's reaction before delivering his main news.

The older Elf chuckled softly and leaned forward to pat Legolas' knee, like a father amused at his child's juvenile views. "My dear Legolas."

"Then you do not believe it possible that this is so?"

Leaning back in his chair, Elrond confidently said, "That line is long dead." Melancholy touched his voice as he added, "Along with all else in this forsaken world."

"And if I told you that I knew it to be true?"

"How could you possibly? Even before the War it had become untraceable even to those knowledgeable of the line." The Elf smiled again and asked of Legolas, "Why do you ask this?"

"Because I travel with Isildur's heir," Legolas responded simply then fell quiet as the statement sank in with the wide-eyed Elven lore master.

For a long while only the soft crackle of the fire filled the deep quiet as Elrond mulled over what Legolas had just told him. Clearly he was trying to decide whether Legolas was lying or merely misguided, for surely it could not be the honest truth that he spoke.

Eventually, Elrond spoke again, "How could you know?"

"Because I have travelled with and guided him for twelve years now." Legolas couldn't help but feel just a little smug at the plainly astonished look on Elrond's face at this revelation. "His father died twelve years ago and proclaimed me his tutor and guardian. Before his death, Arathorn told me of his true lineage and Aragorn's rightful place upon the throne of Gondor."

Once more there was a long, thick silence then Elrond drew in a deep breath of amazement. He slowly began to lever himself out of his chair but the simple movement looked so awkward with his stick-thin limbs and laboured breathing that Legolas felt compelled to also stand so that he could take the Elven ruler's arm to steady him in case he toppled in his obvious weakness. Elrond though ignored the wordless offer of help and walked shakily towards the tall, thickly curtained windows.

"Well," he mused helplessly to himself, uncertain as to what to add.

Legolas watched as the Elven Lord slowly dragged the heavy, dust-covered drapes across the mucky, smeared windows to allow a little natural light into the oppressive bedroom. Once again, Elrond appeared deep in thought although worryingly Legolas could not be certain that it was about what he hoped.

After a long while, during which the blonde Elf watched his once-friend and confidante staring vacantly through the glass, Legolas finally prompted, "Well, Lord Elrond?"

Elrond turned to look at him as though seeing him for the first time. Then his deep brown eyes cleared again and he shook his head to bring himself back to sense. "Well," he started again, wobbly as he made his way to the table to pick up a glass pitcher that he discovered, rather annoyingly, to be empty of wine. "It is quite a claim you make, Prince Legolas."

Legolas flinched at the use of his formal title but decided not to further confuse things by complaining about it now. "And what do you think of it?"

"Of what?"

Resisting the urge to sigh in his frustration, Legolas answered with forced calm, "Of Aragorn."

"Aragorn?"

"Isildur's heir." Perhaps, Legolas thought, it was a mistake seeking advice from one who could not even grasp the most basic of concepts.

However, Elrond raised his hand calmly and corrected himself, "What of Isildur's heir?" He cocked his head in question at the hopeful look now on the younger Elf's face and asked a little harshly, "What is it you think you have here, Legolas?"

Stepping closer, Legolas said in a voice bordering on excited, "Don't you see? He is our chance."

"To do what?"

As though it were the most obvious thing in the world, Legolas exclaimed, "To end this war for good. To restore order once more."

Another stunned period of silence followed Legolas excitable declaration. The blonde Elf waited, barely clinging onto his patience, as Elrond absorbed his hopeful proposition. Then, to Legolas' intense disappointment, the Lord of Rivendell laughed.

"It is not a joke, Lord Elrond," Legolas snapped irritably as his hopes were effectively dashed in one simple gesture.

"No," Elrond agreed, sobering, "it is merely ludicrous."

"Why?" the prince demanded.

"Why?" Elrond echoed in disbelief. "Where do I begin?" He slowly made his way back to his worn armchair but this time Legolas purposefully made no move to help him. "No, let us start with the fact that the child's identity is completely unverifiable."

"Not so," Legolas interrupted, also returning to his seat and reaching inside the pocket in his shirt to pull out a small leather pouch. "Before he died, Arathorn also gave me this." He untied the string and bent forward to tip out the pouch's contents into the palm of Elrond's hand: a small silver ring.

"The ring of Barahir," he breathed in amazement at the small object resting in his hand. "The ring of the House of Isildur." Elrond turned the ring, bearing two serpents with tiny emerald eyes, over in his hand in wonder. "But this was lost."

"And now found again."

"How is this possible, Thranduilion?"

"This is proof enough for you?"

"How did you get this?"

"From its rightful owner, sir."

"Isildur's heir," Elrond pondered but then his eyes sharpened again and he thrust the ring back towards Legolas, who in turn returned it to its pouch for safekeeping. Now sitting straight again, Elrond said, "So you have indeed found Gondor's heir."

"Then you do believe it possible, after all?"

"To do what?"

"Reunite the kingdoms of Men."

"What kingdoms? Nothing survives."

"You cannot know that for certain. We survive still."

Elrond scoffed at this. "Two from many, Legolas. If you wish to unite but two people then I wish you the best of luck, foolish Prince of Mirkwood."

"Do not taunt me," Legolas calmly insisted.

"What did you expect me to say to all this?"

"That we at least have a chance." Legolas shuffled to the edge of his chair and explained his reasoning. "Nothing now stands against the might of Sauron and Mordor, but Aragorn is the hope we need. He can bring hope to the lost; bring them together so that we at least stand a chance. If we can use him to unite those who still possess their sanity and reason and free will then we can at last take a stand against Sauron. Even he must fear the reuniting and rising of Men, especially considering they were nearly his downfall in the First Age."

"Yes. Nearly," Elrond stressed almost with anger as he too leaned forward in his chair, one finger pointed at Legolas as he spoke. "You may not recall, Prince of Mirkwood, but I do. That army was indeed victorious in their mission but hundreds of thousands perished. Never could you now summon an army anywhere near as vast as that of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men. They would die, every last one of them, in such a foolish endeavour as you propose."

"They are a dying race anyway."

At this, Elrond laughed again, collapsing back in his chair. "Oh, Legolas, how you have changed! From one unwilling to sacrifice any of your soldiers for the greater good to now sending many thousands out to die on what you know to be a mission of futility."

"You do not know that it would be futile," Legolas replied softly, disconcerted by Elrond's words.

More sedately, the dark Elf pondered, "I wonder what your young heir feels of your willingness to shepherd him towards certain death."

This touched a nerve with Legolas and he fell suddenly silent. The truth was that he had not given Aragorn's role in this whole endeavour much detailed thought. All he had known was that the heir of Gondor was a useful tool to bring together those who opposed the regime of evil that now ruled over the earth. That they would have to go into battle at some point and physically fight the forces of Shadow had not even crossed his mind, even though it should have been the most obvious outcome of any attempt at uprising. And Elrond did have a valid point. No matter how large a force of allied Men he could assemble, Sauron would always possess the advantage and that meant danger for all those involved in any rebellion.

How would Aragorn react to that truth? The boy was reluctant enough to face up to what his lineage meant as it was and he did not yet even know of his ancestor Isildur's great mistake. For Aragorn's bloodline, far removed from Isildur though it may have been, was not a strong one.

The lesson was taught to all as children as a cautionary tale about resisting the temptation of great power and the consequences of falling for the rewards offered by the Shadow.

The line of Isildur had been a powerful but inwardly deeply flawed one. Descended from the ancient and Valar-blessed Dunedain, he was the son of Elendil, King of the Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor. After ruling with strength and wisdom for many years over Gondor, Isildur had followed his brother, father and the High King of the Elves Gil-Galad into the war against the forces of Sauron in Mordor, in defence of his own land and all the free lands of Middle Earth.

The joined armies, collectively named 'The Last Alliance of Men and Elves', had fought bravely, none more so than Isildur, alongside the two great leaders of the alliance. When Elendil and Gil-Galad had met the Dark Lord himself on the battlefield though, they had been defeated by the overpowering Darkness. But Isildur had charged against the Enemy and cut the source of his supremacy, the dreaded Ring of Power, from his finger. Sauron was defeated on that day.

But Isildur was not to be considered a hero for long. The Ring, which gave the wearer immense power, was not, as the Wise had advised, destroyed in the volcanic fires of the Mountain of Doom where it had been forged centuries previously, but rather kept by the now King of Men.

With this most powerful weapon now at his command, Isildur had attempted to take it back to his kingdom of Gondor. But his betrayal was to be his ending. He never reached his home. His returning Men had been attacked, Isildur slain and the Ring lost.

Left undestroyed, finding the Ring had become a quest for the forces of Evil and Sauron lived on through it, in spirit if not in body.

Had Isildur possessed the strength to destroy if for good, as advised by Elrond himself, then Sauron would have been truly vanquished and the world would never have fallen to Darkness. The War and the devastation it wrought would never have happened.

And Aragorn was descended from that very same, weak-blooded line. It was not encouraging to Elrond, who had already been betrayed once by the sons of Numenor.

Breaking the silence, the Elven Lord stated, "The boy will die, Legolas, if you send him to this task. His blood is as weak as his ancestors' was."

"You don't know that for certain," Legolas argued in a soft voice, thick with dejection that this conversation was not going the way he had hoped it would. "He is not Isildur. He will succeed where his ancestors failed. He can and will destroy Sauron."

"And just how are you planning to do that? You possess no weapon, Legolas. By now Sauron will have gathered all the Rings of Power to him and you have nothing, not even an army on your side."

"He will unite them."

"Even if you gathered together every free and sane Man still alive on the earth, sufficiently trained and armed them, you would still have little more than an annoyance to the Orc forces surrounding Mordor. Your great army would be butchered before your hero ever got close to Sauron in Barad-Dur." Elrond sat back almost triumphantly in his chair, as if knowing he had won this argument already but he couldn't help adding, "And who would lead them into the Darkness, Legolas? Do you really have the heart to do it yourself?"

Stung by the cruel, scathing words, Legolas nonetheless suggested, "You could help me. You have been to Mordor before, fought against the hordes of Sauron."

Elrond laughed but it was tinged with a deep sadness. "I have even less heart than you, Prince."

"You could try. Is it not worth a try?"

Sighing, the dark-haired Elf let his heavy eyelids flutter closed, exhausted already by this conversation.

"We have to fight, Elrond."

Opening his eyes, Elrond looked more defeated than Legolas had ever seen another person look.

"My kingdom is abandoned, my children dead, my heart broken. What have I got left to fight for?" he asked wearily, his raspy voice cracking with emotion.

Despite his deep sympathy for the Elven Lord, Legolas leaned forward and laid his hand on Elrond's knee and whispered eagerly, "For what once was and can be again."

Unmoved, Elrond said, "The old world is gone."

"No. Our world can be free and glorious once again."

"Your optimism astounds me. You cannot honestly believe things can be as they once were."

"I have to believe it."

"That boy cannot deliver you. And to try this ridiculous endeavour is folly."

"No, to do nothing is folly – and cowardly," Legolas accused harshly, sitting back.

Seemingly unconcerned at the blatant slight that Legolas had made against him, Elrond calmly said, "Perhaps I am a coward but at least I am a realist also, Legolas. I will not have my heart further broken. I cannot."

"You said it yourself: we have nothing left, Elrond. Just like you, everything I ever loved is lost. We have nothing else to lose; don't you see that?"

"But nothing at all to gain."

"We have to try," Legolas pressed almost desperately.

"I am finished here, Legolas. I've fought enough for this world and it has all come to nothing."

"While I still have breath in my body I must fight for what I believe in, for this world's salvation. And I do believe it can be saved and be whole once more," Legolas said, knowing already that his words would have little effect on the Elven Lord now. He would get nothing more from the disillusioned Lord Elrond.

"Kill your hope, Legolas, before it kills you," the dark Elf warned ominously. "Leave that child and seek your salvation elsewhere."

Somewhat more bitterly now, Legolas asked, "Where, Elrond? Where does my salvation lie? Where does your fate lead if we do nothing?"

Elrond shrugged nonchalantly. "I have been chained thus far to Rivendell and here I shall stay until my time finally comes to an end." He looked up at the blonde Elf and said dismissively, "Go on your vain quest if you must but you go forth alone. Now leave me be."

With his heart sinking further, Legolas nodded sadly and slowly got to his feet. But before he left the room though, he turned back to the pitiful figure sat small and hunched and useless in his over-sized armchair.

"For all the changes in this world, I always imagined that the strong and dependable Lord of Rivendell would remain constant. I am…disappointed in you."

Elrond glanced over towards Legolas but seemed not to actually look at him when he said emotionlessly, "I care not."

For some reason, these words hurt Legolas more to hear than anything else said during all this time with Elrond. He could not be angry though; he was too saddened to feel anger at seeing the defeated figure he had once looked up to and admired.

"I am truly sorry for your children, Elrond. And I pray that you find peace."

Elrond did not comment at this but looked away so Legolas was no longer in his line of sight and said, "Death will find you, Thranduilion; mark my words."

"Consider them marked – and disregarded; for I have no intention of dying, my Lord Elrond."

Elrond mumbled something incoherent under his breath then fell silent.

Resigned now to the fact that no help could be gained from Elrond and that he could do nothing to help the Elven ruler in his defeat, Legolas turned and left.

The walk back to Erestor's room was a long one for Legolas as he thought through all that he and Elrond had just discussed. It had not been the result he had been hoping for when he came to Rivendell. He was just as alone now as before and the disappointment burned hot in his chest.

Legolas did not realise he had reached his destination until Aragorn's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"How did it go?"

Legolas blinked in surprise that he had been so distracted and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. Instead of answering the boy's question – and desperate to avoid looking him in the eyes after Elrond's earlier words about the young heir and his destiny – Legolas walked over to the table and poured himself a glass of water, taking his time in the actions.

"Legolas?" Aragorn prompted, coming to stand behind the Elf. "How did it go?" he then repeated as if worried that his mentor hadn't heard him.

"It…" Legolas walked slowly over to the bed and sat down heavily. As Aragorn joined him, Legolas bowed his head in defeat. How could he tell the man that all this had been for nothing, that they were no better off than before, that he had failed him once more?

Aragorn did not need telling though. Legolas' crestfallen demeanour told him everything. "He won't help, will he?" he asked softly, trying and failing to keep the disappointment from his own voice.

"No," Legolas answered, shaking his head sadly, keeping his stinging eyes on the glass resting on his knee.

Feeling the disappointment radiating off his guardian, Aragorn leaned into Legolas, pressing his forehead against the Elf's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered sincerely into the prince's sleeve.

Legolas swallowed thickly to dislodge the lump in his throat then took a deep, steadying breath. He smiled softly as he reached up to lay the palm of his hand on top of the boy's head. "It doesn't matter," he said shakily. "It'll be just you and me."

"Like always," Aragorn said quietly, hoping it sounded mildly encouraging.

Despite Elrond's stinging words still reverberating around his head, Legolas smiled slightly and nodded, cheered by the boy's optimism. "Yes, just like always," he agreed.

"Excuse me," Erestor's voice came from the doorway. "Am I interrupting?"

"No," Legolas said as Aragorn sat up straight, not looking at the dark-haired Elf; for some reason blaming the advisor for Elrond's lack of help. "Actually, I wanted to speak with you too."

"You do?" Aragorn asked in surprise as Legolas pushed himself to his feet with effort. "What can he do?"

"Aragorn," Legolas warned lightly then laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Stay here, I'll be back soon."

Although Aragorn wanted to tell his mentor to stay, to leave this place of disappointment and get back to be just the two of them travelling the lands, he found that he couldn't. That was how he liked things. Even when he was cold at wet at least he could trust in everything around him. He didn't have to fear Legolas like he feared Elrond and Erestor.

But it appeared that Legolas still believed that there was something to be gained from Rivendell. And Aragorn would not leave his mentor behind.

OIOI

At Legolas' request, he and Erestor walked for a time around the house while the prince gathered together his scattered thoughts. At his side, the advisor walked silently, hands clasped behind his back, paying his young guest as little attention as he himself was paid. Whilst he was curious as to what the reasoning was behind Legolas' coming here, he understood the need to be sure of what had to be said and respected the quiet the prince felt he needed. Legolas had rarely been impulsive by nature and it seemed that that was one thing that had not changed over his decades of exile.

The paths they took through the grounds of Rivendell were all but invisible now, not having been used for so many long years. Elrond's once magnificent gardens, no longer being a priority to Lord of Major Domo, had been left to become wild and overgrown, any flowers completely swamped by the weeds that thrived in the poor light and soil quality. Had Legolas been paying any attention to any of his surroundings then perhaps he would have been saddened at the state of the place he had once loved so much but as it was he was too deep in thought to even notice. Besides, he'd seen so much death throughout the lands that it barely touched his mind anymore.

Only when they reached a similarly overgrown small garden, secluded from all the others, at the back of the great house did Legolas come to a halt. The garden was scattered with stone statues, ethereal and beautiful despite being changed by the elements from their natural brilliant white colour to a dirty mess of brown and green. These were memorials to those lost. Few represented the Elves fallen in this latest war – there was no time in these dark days to commission such sentimental pieces. But for Legolas, they reminded him of those he had lost.

Quietly, he stepped closer to the nearest one – a small woman, veiled and knelt in prayer amongst the weeds. Crouching down, Legolas laid his palm against the cold stone and closed his eyes.

No memorial marked the passing of those innocents who had been slaughtered here in Rivendell after the Orc invasion and, similarly, no statue commemorated the fallen of Mirkwood either. They were, for all intents and purposes, forgotten by the world. Even the king himself went unrecognised in the wake of the battle. It was as if they had never even lived.

Still on his feet behind Legolas, Erestor said quietly through the hush, "He has never forgiven himself for sending his children into battle."

Legolas opened his eyes slowly. This memorial was not anyone he knew or even recognised and yet he knew now whom Erestor spoke of – the ones who had broken his lord's heart; the children of Elrond, perished alongside their comrades in the final battle for Rivendell.

"Why does he stay here?" Legolas asked after a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the major domo.

"Where else could he go? He is bound forever to this place now, even in its winter Elrond is Rivendell's Lord."

"Did he never think of sailing?"

"Not once. I don't think it even crossed his mind when the battle raged around these lands. And afterwards…well, by then it was all too late."

"Foolish - not to take the chance when he could," Legolas muttered almost angrily, looking back to the sad statue.

"You didn't," Erestor pointed out.

"I was a soldier. I had a duty to defend my people and my home – even if it was a hopeless cause."

"As did my Lord. He fought for Rivendell just as you fought for Mirkwood."

Suddenly, Legolas stood upright, anger flushing his features. "A lot of good it did both of us. My people were slaughtered and Rivendell was left to ruin."

"You're angry."

"Aren't you? How can you be so ambivalent about all this?"

"I am not ambivalent, Legolas. I loved this world just like you. To see it under the permanent thrall of the Shadow breaks my heart," Erestor answered calmly, laying his delicate hand against Legolas' shoulder, wondering what he had said that had made the young blonde so very angry all of a sudden.

Legolas, however, shrugged him off bitterly and demanded, "And what are you doing to help? You walk around like a ghost, maintaining what remains of a ruined, breached sanctuary, no longer any good for anything. Why didn't you go into battle along with your fellows, Erestor? Why didn't you die amongst your people?"

"I am duty-bound to serve my lord."

"A lot of good it is doing! Your realm is but a dim memory of what it used to be and your lord is nothing but a bitter and empty shell!"

"What more would you have me do? Legolas, you have offered me no insight into your reasoning for coming here nor have you said why you insist on travelling with a Human child you protect so fiercely. What were you expecting when you came here?" At this, Legolas remained silent, feeling very much like a child being scolded even though Erestor's voice never rose to a shout. "My old friend, what did Elrond say to you?"

Suddenly deflating, Legolas sighed and shook his head in defeat. He knew that he had a duty to tell Erestor everything he had told Elrond and yet after the Elven lord's words, he feared what the wise advisor would have to say on the subject. He wasn't sure he could take much more disappointment from this place he had once loved so much.

Five minutes later, however, he had bravely exorcised this fear from himself by repeating all he had told Elrond about Aragorn and his plans.

By the time he had finished what he had to say, Erestor was pacing the small memorial garden thoughtfully. After a moment, he asked, "And how did Lord Elrond take this?"

"As expected, I suppose. He wanted nothing to do with it then told me I was walking into certain death if I stayed on this path," Legolas sighed in answer as he watched the advisor.

Erestor also sighed. "I suppose that was a fairly predictable response. For all his tolerance of the Human race, my lord's faith has been severely shaken by past faults."

"And you?"

"I have never had any faith in them," the advisor told him bluntly.

Chuckling softly but without humour, Legolas nodded. "Glad to hear it."

"However, under the rather extreme circumstances we find ourselves in these days, we must make the most of what we have."

"So you think it could work then?"

"I honestly don't know, Legolas."

"You are not very good at assurances, old friend."

Erestor turned grey eyes to the blonde Elf in front of him and chuckled at the serious expression on Legolas' face. "Perhaps not. But, if this is your decision, if you truly believe that this child can do all you think he can then I will support you in any way I can."

"Even if it goes against the word of your lord?"

Looking down at the damp grass at his feet, Erestor breathed a deep sigh, appearing to get lost in his melancholy for a long moment before he dared to meet Legolas' eyes again. "I think we can both agree, Your Highness, that my lord Elrond is not what he used to be." It was said quietly and with a kind of deep regret and sadness that Legolas suddenly felt deeply sorry for the obviously lonely advisor. "In lieu of my lord, I will help you in any way that I can."

The raven-haired Elf bowed low to the prince as he offered him his service.

Legolas abruptly strode over to the advisor, taking his arm and pulling him up from the bow. "Please don't do that," Legolas told him quietly.

Although Erestor obediently remained upright as Legolas moved away from him, he asked, "Why do you despise that so?"

"Despise what?" the blonde Elf asked distractedly as he looked around the garden at the eerie statues to the dead.

"Your title, the old ways of etiquette. You do not like it."

Legolas scoffed softly. "I am not a prince any longer, Erestor." He turned to face the dark Elf who was frowning in confusion. Explaining, Legolas continued, "Just as you are no longer advisor to Lord Elrond or major domo of Imladris."

"I still consider myself both those things."

"A house-keeper with no house to keep and an advisor whose advice falls on deaf ears," Legolas pointed out. "I am no prince as there is no kingdom left for me to serve. Why cling onto a painful past when there is suffering enough in the present?"

Quietly, Erestor said in a painful, trembling voice, "Because the past is all I have left."

For a long moment, silence reigned in the small memorial garden then Legolas stepped over to where his old friend was staring with forlorn eyes up at his abandoned home and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"That is why we have to try to change it," Legolas told him softly.

Under his hand, Legolas felt Erestor chuckle mirthlessly. "It will not bring your father back, Legolas."

The familiar stab of pain cut through Legolas' heart but he nodded all the same. "I know that," he answered in a whisper.

"Nothing ever will."

"I know. But perhaps I can make amends for the past. Maybe Lord Elrond is right that this is a foolhardy task," Legolas continued, squeezing Erestor's shoulder, "but, like you, I must cling to something."

"And you believe in this boy?"

"I really do."

Erestor nodded and straightened up, pulling himself together. "Then, Your Highness, I will do all I can to help you."

"Thank you, my friend," Legolas smiled, dropping his hand from the major domo's shoulder. "I should return to Aragorn now."

"Yes, of course."

Together, they left the quiet graveyard for there was much to do.

To Be Continued…