The Greenleaf of Mirkwood sighed deeply. The rest of his new-found friends of the Fellowship had completed their particular journeys, for them the evil was over. Not so for him. His own journey, a burden of which he scarcely bear, had begun at the end of the battle of Helm's Deep. At the conclusion of battle, Legolas had looked everywhere for Haldir, eventually asking for Aragorn's help. The look on the Man's face had been heart breaking.

"You do not know?"

Before, no. But at the anguished looks in the future King of the Reunified Kingdom's face, Legolas had known.

His beloved was dead. Haldir, Captain of the wardens of fair Lothlorien, had died under the brutal attack of an orc. Was it fair? No. Legolas had known that, for Haldir was an elf, one of those born not to die, but yet he had died. And Legolas had accepted it, taken it in, as he had taken the death of Gandalf, the death of Boromir. Comforting words were murmured to him, but none went to his heart. Legolas had buried it all, let himself be drawn into the net of fighting, and tried to forget the pain of losing the on he loved.

But now the fighting was over, and it was left to Legolas to tell Haldir's brothers what had happened. It was likely the brothers already knew, in the strange manner of the elves for gathering news, but it was considered polite to tell the fallen's family what had become them. And Legolas was the closest to Haldir, not in death perhaps, but in life.

Taking a deep breath, Legolas stepped into Lothlorien, and began walking the familiar route learnt the first time he had approached the Golden Woods. As expected, it wasn't long before the keen wardens discovered the Woof-Elf, and the youngest brother of Haldir, Rumil, approached him.

"Mae govannean, Legolas," he said solemnly, bowing his head to Legolas. Legolas did the same in reply.

"Tis good to see you well, Rumil. Is your brother about?" Legolas said, trying to keep his tone light.

"Aye, he is!" came a voice from the trees, before it's owner dropped down from the treetops. "We welcome you again to the fair woods of Lothlorien."

"Alas that I am not here for a time of joy," said Legolas, swallowing the lump that had unexpectedly risen in his throat. "I come with news of great sorrow." The brothers regarded him silently, before Rumil reached out and patted his arm.

"We have already learnt of the fall of Haldir," he said softly. "Yet we appreciate that you have come here to tell us."

"He fought-"

"We do not need to be told he found valiantly, for we already know of that," said Orophin sharply. "Haldir would fight in no other way."

Legolas gave a small smile. "Aye. I suppose I should not tell you that which you already know." Silence suddenly reigned between the three.

"Legolas?" said Rumil hesitantly. "Whilst we shall always miss Haldir, I feel that you have not had the time that you deserve. Will you not come and eat with us, and share your loss?"

"I do not feel that-"

"The loss of a lover should always be remembered, Legolas," interrupted Orophin. "The burden yet lies heavily on you."

Legolas eyes opened wide, and Orophin laughed. "Yes, we know. How could we not? Now I ask you to come and eat with us, and talk of the one you knew."

Legolas bowed his head, and began to follow the brothers into the woods. And for the first time in many months, he almost thought he could hear his lover sighing happily, as the three that had loved him talked of the one they had known- Haldir, Captain of the Wardens of Lothlorien.