I know it's been FOREVERRR since I updated the story but I just got really stuck. I have the next chapter all planned out so hopefully it won't be as long of a wait this time! As usual THANK YOU to everyone who continues to read and follow this story! I really hope you guys keep liking it!

: Thanks so much for your review, it's actually what pushed me to finish this chapter!

Amsim: as usual I'm so thankful for your reviews and I really do hope you keep enjoying it!

Jadzia Lillian Potter: Yeah I know, Legolas deserves a little bit more! Thanks so much for your review I loved it!

Sol: I really appreciated your regular reviews and feedback, it made my day! I totally gushed over your appreciation of Eredhel because I really wanted her to have some depth!

Legolas looked out over Minas Tirith and sighed, breathing in the fresh air. He was growing weary of the seemingly endless war and the loss and pain that followed it. He wondered how things might have been different had he not joined in the quest of the Ring. Most likely, he would be home in Mirkwood, helping his father keep the forces of Dol Goldur at bay. How were the Woodland Elves faring? Were they succeeding or had their enemies finally become too great to overcome? He knew one thing for sure: if the Ring was not destroyed then there would be little hope for his home land, and eventually darkness would overrun all of the forest.

The carved railing was cool against his hands as he leaned forward, closing his eyes in frustration. The ellon knew Eredhel was only trying to help Aragorn and Gandalf save the White City but he despised seeing her put herself in danger. Perhaps he was being slightly selfish, though he always had been where she was involved, simply because she meant so much to him. But it was not fair for her to expect him to watch her endanger her life over and over again. Fighting in battle was one thing, but the recklessness with which she handled her life frightened him. As his eyes traced the jagged outline of the mountains he began to wish that neither of them had joined the Fellowship, that the Ring had never been made in the first place. Perhaps if Mirkwood had not grown dark, and his heart had not been burdened with his ever constant worry for his people, perhaps he would have told her earlier how he truly felt. They could have had centuries together, countless summer evenings, watching the fireflies creep out as dusk fell, listening to the river splash and gurgle as it twisted its way between the ancient trees.

But he'd been robbed of that reality, and now he was being forced to deal with the current one. He did not wish to see the elleth he loved in danger and yet he knew he had no other choice. But he still had some control over how much danger she put herself in. Once again frustration constricted the muscles in his chest and looking around he realized it had been several hours since he left the others' company. He had walked through the gardens and along the outer wall of the highest level of Minas Tirith, clearing his mind and focusing his thoughts. Were they still debating or had a decision been reached? He was not eager to return to the council room, especially if Imrahil was still there. At some point Eredhel would likely return to her room so he decided to wait for her in her chamber.

He made his way back towards the citadel, the citizens casting curious stares towards the elf lord as he passed them. When he entered the central hall he found that for the first time since their arrival it was not empty. Several small groups of commanders were gathered, murmuring amongst themselves. It seemed they had made a decision after all, but Legolas decided he would rather hear it from Eredhel than one of the men so he continued down a corridor to his left, his confident footsteps leading him to the door of the elleth's chambers. He silently stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. The room had a dresser, two chairs and a small round table which held a half eaten plate of food and a glass of wine. The bed was in the center, and on it, was the slumbering elleth. Legolas wondered why she was sleeping at this hour but none the less sank onto the bed beside her. She was turned away from him, facing the open window. One hand was tucked under her head while the other was grasping her leaf necklace. As Legolas lay back onto the bed she stirred, wiping the weariness from her eyes and turning towards him. "Legolas?" she mumbled, with her eyelids still half closed.

"I'm here," he said quietly, not wanting to ruin her peaceful state. He turned onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His fingers twisted a lock of her silky hair absentmindedly as he waited for her to fully awaken.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, her voice heavy. Her apology surprised him, he had been expecting her to be stubborn about the matter. "I did not mean to upset you earlier." The ellon briefly shut his eyes, remembering his frustration when he left the council room.

"I know," he replied tensely. Eredhel noticed that his jaw was still clenched and sighed, not wanting him to be angry with her.

"Do you know why I had to do it?" There were those two words again 'had to'. No, she didn't have to do anything, she chose to.

"No, but I know why you wanted to do it," he answered. "Either way it doesn't matter what reasons you had, none of them justify you losing your life."

"Even if it is the difference between defeating Sauron and being overcome by him? Is a wholesome land rid of evil and fear not worth one single person's life?" Legolas' heart tightened at her familiar detached tone.

"A single person's perhaps, but not yours," he said through gritted teeth.

"Why not?"

"Because!" he growled. "Did you ever consider that even a world without Sauron is not worth living in if you are not in it?"

Legolas..."

"No, Eredhel listen to me. As important as this war is, it is not worth your life, not to Aragorn, not to your brothers and definitely not to me. I understand that you feel the need to protect those around you, I do. But that should also include protecting yourself, for you would do us just as much harm if you were to die." He suddenly got up, his anger getting the best of him. Did she really value his affection for her so little? Did she not understand what it would do to him if she was killed? Just the thought of it stole the air from his lungs and made his hands go cold. She was being so damned stubborn.

"Legolas!" Eredhel called to him as he made his way towards the door. The ellon ignored her, increasing his pace when he heard her light footsteps follow him out into the hall. He felt her hand curl around his arm but he shook it off, hearing her footfalls stop abruptly. The silence of the hall seemed to fill his ears as he continued towards the south wing, not having the heart to look back at the lonely elleth.

Thoughts swirled through his head as he made his way through the open corridors. Servants swerved out of his way, retreating from the Prince's heated glare. He was so caught up in his frustration with Eredhel that he did not hear Aragorn calling out to him, and turned abrubtly when the man placed a hand on his arm. Legolas' eyes softened when they met those of the Ranger. "Mellonin?" asked Aragorn, noticing the flash of anger in his gaze. "Prestad? (Are you alright?)"

Legolas sighed, leaning wearily against the brick wall. "She's almost as hard headed as my father." The man's mouth spread into a smile small, recalling a distant memory of the elleth.

"Aye, that she is," he replied. "I am sorry, I did not know that the palentir would cause this rift between you."

"It is not your fault, she is the one who made the decision."

"She is used to looking out for others Legolas, she does not seek to anger you."

"I know, but I cannot continue to see her risk her life Aragorn. I have total confidence in her abilities, but she endangers herself needlessly without stopping to think how it will affect me or anyone else."

"She loves you."

"Then why does she do such things that cause me worry?"

"Because she has lived so long protecting those around her that she has forgotten the reasons to protect herself."

"Well there are plenty of them! The grief that her father and siblings would feel at her passing, that she would not get to see the world renewed, and," he hesitated, hurt once again building in his chest. "that we would be sundered." Aragorn looked at his friend sadly, knowing full well what it would do to the ellon. Before he could reply they were interrupted by a shout from the other end of the hallway.

"Oi! I've been lookin' for you two rascals!" came Gimli's voice. His heavy footsteps thudded on the stone floor as he made his way towards them. "Aragorn, I've been searching for half an hour, and as for you laddie," he turned to Legolas. "I thought you had headed back to the forest!" He chuckled, his red beard swinging back and forth.

"Nay Gimli, I would never leave our competition unfinished. What did you want?" asked Legolas, offering his friend a smile.

"To get some food of course, so much deliberating can empty a dwarf's stomach!"

"Yes, and that's such a hard thing to do," muttered Aragorn so that only Legolas could hear. The elf suppressed a grin.

"Well then perhaps we should head to the dining hall, I'm sure most of the soldiers will have cleared out by now," said the man. Gimli nodded eagerly, taking it upon himself to lead them to the large open chamber attached to the kitchens. They passed through several long corridors and descended many flights of stairs before they came before the heavy wooden doors. From within they could detect the rich aroma of roasted meat and Gimli pushed open the door eagerly. There were still some men seated at the long tables, their helmets laid beside them on the benches. Legolas left his friends to take a seat at the nearest vacant table, in no mood for food. He heard the heavy door close with a thud and crossed his arms, leaning his elbows against the worn table. A few moments later Aragorn and Gimli joined him, each with a heavily laden plate. They sank onto the bench across from him, and immediately set to work on their food. They were halfway through their plates when Legolas realized that he still had not heard of what final decision had been reached.

"What is our next move?" he asked abruptly, causing Aragorn to stop his fork in mid air. The man looked at his friend warily, his throat suddenly going dry.

"Did Eredhel not tell you? I thought that was why you were worried," he said slowly, his eyes hesitant to meet those of the ellon. Legolas noticed his apprehension and felt his stomach twist into a knot, making him glad that he had not eaten.

"No, I suppose I never really gave her the chance. She was asleep when I found her in her room and after that, the topic flew from my mind," he explained.

"Aye," said Aragorn. "She said she wanted to be well rested for tomorrow."

"Why?" asked Legolas.

"Because," began Aragorn, abandoning his fork on his plate as he laced his fingers together. "We have decided to march on Mordor." Legolas could not hide the shock in his blue eyes. "That is where Gandalf and Imrahil are, they are rallying the men, and searching for any more that they can find. I was aiding them before I went in search of you and Eredhel."

"Do you think we have a chance of achieving victory?" asked Legolas as his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Aragorn looked at him oddly, realizing that he and Eredhel must have barely spoken.

"Perhaps not for ourselves, but our battle before the Black Gate will provide an excellent diversion for Frodo and Sam." Aragorn could see the pieces fall into place behind the ellon's eyes as he realized exactly what he was saying. They were still not safe from war, and they were being forced into their most dangerous mission yet, one that not many, if any, would return from. Legolas' thoughts reeled, just when they thought they had won, that their future was secured, they were being thrust back into the storm of loss and bloodshed. He still had no idea how his father and kin in Mirkwood were faring, and he realized that he may never find out. He shifted in his seat, regretting his words to Eredhel in the wake of their current situation. He was drawn out of his thoughts by the gruff voice of Gimli, the dwarf adding to their grim conversation with his usual bravado.

"We'll give those scum the fight of their miserable lives," he declared, his voice low. Legolas gave him a half smile, knowing that the dwarf was most likely trying to disguise his own inner doubts. A moment later Eomer joined them, sliding onto the bench next to Legolas. The man looked tired, but happier than they'd seen him since the Battle of Pelennor Fields.

"I take it Eowyn is doing well," noted Aragorn, the heir of Rohan's cheefulness momentarily brightening the friends' moods.

"Indeed she is," answered Eomer. "The healers say she will fully recover, though she may not waken until tomorrow. I cannot thank you enough my friend."

"There is no need for thanks, how are Merry and Faramir?"

"Merry still sleeps, but the Captain has awakened. Eredhel came to speak with him only moments before I left."

"What did she want?" asked Legolas, thinking that she must have headed there almost immediately after their disagreement.

"They spoke of Boromir, and how he fell. Faramir had a few questions, and I believe she felt she owed him answers," explained Eomer. "It is getting quite late, what are the three of you doing here? Do you ever take a reprieve?" He chuckled. Before Aragorn answered Legolas stood, politely excusing himself. He did not wish to hear the plan again, knowing full well that Eomer was going to voice that which each of them were thinking. His friends bid him farewell and Aragorn held his gaze for a moment, a silent message passing between them. Legolas gave him an affirmative nod and took his leave. Once he had navigated his way through the crowd he found the nearest exit and slipped through it, sighing in relief when he found the outside corridor deserted.

He silently padded through the halls, killing some time before finding Eredhel. When he finally made his way to her room he was surprised to find she was not there, and that her weapons had disappeared from their place by the door. Legolas took the bottle of wine from the table and poured himself a glass from it, suddenly wishing for the alcohol driven ignorance that mortality had to offer. His blue eyes caught on a sheet of paper tucked between the pages of a book on the bedside table. It was a work of history, and the paper had been saving a page on the Battle of Dagor Lad. Legolas wondered if it mentioned anything about his grandfather and flipped through the pages interestedly. He had found the account of the elven companies when the sheet of folded parchment slipped from its place, falling to the floor. The ellon paused for a moment before bending to retrieve it. When he did, he found that there was a drawing on the inside. It portrayed a gray scale version of his favorite hollow in Mirkwood, one that he had shown Eredhel many years ago. The grass was long, and seemed to be swaying in an invisible wind, while flowers blossomed on both the ground and the trees overhanging the clearing. The drawing style was similar to the paintings he had seen in Lothlorien and Legolas realized that Eredhel must have been the artist. Wonder filled him as he gazed at the parchment, his eyes taking in every line and curve. The elleth had never told him of her talent, but the detail with which she saw the world only increased his adoration of her.

He had been poring over the drawing for several minutes when he heard the door open and spun around. Eredhel froze mid step when she saw him, her bow in her hand and her quiver strung over her shoulder. Her eyes flew to the paper in his hand, then to the half empty bottle of wine and finally came to rest on the ellon. She seemed slightly off balance, as if she did not know where to stand. She was unsure whether or not Legolas was still angry with her and braced herself for another argument. To her immense relief he smiled, indicating to the weapon in her grip. "Well we've certainly changed places haven't we? You at the training grounds and I in the company of fine wine," he prodded. The elleth smirked, depositing her things on the rack beside the door.

"Yes, but I wouldn't suggest you make it a habit, unlike me you need the practice." She came towards him, and was about to take a seat on the bed when he suddenly pulled her into his arms, effortlessly taking her familiar weight. He kissed her hair as he wound a muscular arm around her waist. He smiled when he felt her shoulders relax and she sighed heavily. "Goheno nin (I'm sorry)," she said softly, as she rested her head on his shoulder and affectionately traced his collarbone with her thumb. The Prince noted how cold her touch was and took her smaller hand in his own. Eredhel felt heat radiate in the small space between their interlocked fingers and leaned in closer to his solid form.

"No more apologies melethin, I do not wish to be at odds with one another anymore," he answered, tightening his arms around her.

"You know then," she said simply, some of the tension returning to her arms.

"Aye, I do." Silence fell as a grim foreboding gripped them. Eredhel sighed and drew away from him slightly, taking the drawing from his hand and looking at it thoughtfully. "It's beautiful," said Legolas softly, pushing away the thoughts of what the coming days would bring.

"I meant to finish it, I wanted to draw a midsummer moon and some of the white deer that wander in the heart of the forest."

"When did you first learn to draw?" he asked curiously.

"When I was a youngling, I was with my father in his study one day and he noticed I was using his pens and parchment. When he came over he saw that I had drawn Imladris, and his halls situated above the river. It's how I became so observant of my surroundings. If I wanted to paint or draw something just right then I had to notice every detail," she explained.

"I've never seen you sketching," Legolas observed and he noticed a shadow creep into the elleth's eyes.

"That is because we first met only a decade before the Battle of Fornost, and the next time I saw you was half a century later. After the battle I found it difficult to draw the way I once did, everything had a darkness to it. I would end up drawing scenes of battle. It took centuries before I could bring myself to draw again. The paintings in my talen in Lothlorien I painted just before my mother was captured by orcs, and after that I created only one other."

"What was it?"

"A portrait of her and my father, which now hangs in his chambers," she replied. They once again fell silent, neither wanting to breach the topic of the oncoming battle. "It was not my idea Legolas, I swear," she said suddenly, her voice laced with sadness.

"I know it was not." A knock sounded on the door and they both drew apart, wondering who it was. Eredhel bid them to enter and Aragorn strode in, closing the door behind him with a snap. He looked at his two closest friends sadly, noticing their proximity to each other. He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat.

"I-I wanted to speak with both of you," he said slowly, supressing a smile when they both raised identically arched eyebrows. "I was just speaking with Imrahil and the other captains. Most of our forces have gathered and the rest will have arrived by tomorrow morning. We will depart at noon." He stopped, unsure of how to continue. After a moment's hesitation Eredhel spoke.

"Estel?" she encouraged, sensing something was burdening him. The name brought memories of a golden childhood, sheltered in her father's valley and free from the fear of those that hunted his family. She had done so much for him, which is why he had sought the two of them, but especially Eredhel, out.

"Our mission is a desperate one, we all know it. I have spent the past hours struggling to find some other way but it seems that one does not exist. I just want both of you to know that you are under no obligation to accompany us, though there are none who I would rather have beside me in battle. You do not have to risk your lives for my kingdom. You would be risking both your futures, for a world that many of your people have departed from. You could sail for Valinor, where you would be safe from Sauron's wrath." The elves looked at him in shock, both stunned by the man's words.

"We could be the last elves in Middle Earth and we would still not leave you on the eve of battle mellonin," said Legolas firmly. Eredhel simply moved forward, and pulled the man into a comforting hug.

"You know I'll follow your path, no matter where it may lead," she murmured. Aragorn pulled her closer to him, gratitude swelling in his chest. A moment later they seperated and he stared at the two elves happily.

"Despite our grim circumstances my heart goes to battle lighter knowing that you will be accompanying me. I'll see to it that armour is brought here, we depart tomorrow afternoon." After a few more exchanges he bid them farewell, leaving the room to go i search of Eomer.

An hour later a knock sounded on the door and two men entered. One carried Eredhel's pack and clothes that she had left with the Rangers while the other carried armour for Legolas, taken from Gondor's armoury. They deposited their loads and gave the pair solemn nods before exiting the chamber. Neither Legolas or Eredhel moved to inspect the equipment, unwilling to start the process for what could be the final time. Eredhel sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before tying it into a knot atop her head. Legolas noticed the still purple bruise on her neck and moved to stand behind her, his stern eyes assessing the blemish. "Why has it not healed?" he asked quietly, lightly brushing his lips across the injured skin.

"I do not know, perhaps it was reinjured when we reached the harbour." Legolas frowned.

"What about your leg?" He watched Eredhel intently, even after spending so much time with her he found it difficult to tell when she wasn't being honest. Her slight hesitation however made it obvious.

"It has healed," she answered. A moment later her breath hitched as Legolas ran his hand up her thigh, feeling for the bandage that he knew was there.

"Don't lie," he growled, his hot breath brushing her ear.

"Well I don't know why it hasn't healed, what's the point of worrying about it?" she argued grumpily. The ellon chuckled at her tone, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Legolas turned and collapsed onto the bed, Eredhel soon following his action. She lay down beside him, sending a wave of thyme and forest washing over him.

"Something bodes ill about this battle, though I cannot tell why," said Legolas thoughtfully with a heavy sigh. Immediately Eredhel thought of her vision while using the palentir but pushed it way, turning towards the other elf.

"What do you mean?"

"There is a weight in my heart, and my every nerve is as taut as a bow string," he explained. "But it is for not, we have no choice but to follow Aragorn to the Black Gate."

"Yet all hope is not lost, if we can old out long enough we may yet see a victory," she said softly, attempting to reassure him. Even so she still grappled with her own inner doubts. "Perhaps come summer we will return to Mirkwood, and the scent of blood and clang of metal will be but a fading memory." Legolas looked at her sadly, wishing with every fiber of his being that her words would prove true. They lay in the darkness for several hours, their worry growing when the sky began to fill with streaks of pink and orange. Finally they could delay no longer, and both rose to don their armour. For Legolas there was a fitted leather jerkin, with matching dark brown shoulder guards. There were also reinforcements for his vambraces, bearing the tree of Gondor. Eredhel's armour was the same as she had used for the earlier battle, though her shirt of intricate plates had been cleaned of blood and dirt and they had also provided her with a thick, fitted black shirt to wear beneath it. She immediately turned around and pulled her tunic over head, giving Legolas a growl when she caught him throwing a glance at her over his shoulder. He laughed and threw the black garment to her, shaking his head. Once she had donned it she moved on to the familiar shirt of metal, remembering all the past time she had worn it. As she was straightening her shirt beneath it she noticed Legolas trying to tie a leather cord behind his neck and moved to help him. Her nimble fingers quickly finished the job and she smiled smugly. "What ever would you do without me," she prodded, her grin widening.

"Only the Valar know," he replied sarcastically, giving her an eyeroll. "Though I believe it would be much more enjoyable if you were taking off my shirt instead of helping me keep it on," he added, giving her a smirk.

"Well I suppose that just gives you something to look forward to," she quipped as she wove her hair into a thick braid to keep it out of her eyes. No sooner had she finished than they heard a horn blaring in the courtyard below. Legolas gave her an uneasy look and moved to the window. She noticed his neck and jaw tense and went to stand beside him. Looking down, she felt a knot tighten in her chest. The soldiers were already lining up to depart. Imrahil was coordinating them from atop his proud, white stallion, his armor gleaming in the sun. The horses pranced nervously, sensing the grimness of their riders. Eredhel's knuckles turned white as she gripped the windowsill. Within days they would be at the Black Gate.