It was a sunny and blustery day in the forest of Mirkwood when Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, first felt the calling of the sea. It was to him and none other that this hail was made, as his brothers were far to busy with their own lives and concerns to heed such summons. But Legolas was unlike his brothers in many ways. Often he had found himself longing for the West, far from the hassles and concerns of the forest. But he could not and would not force himself asunder from his family and friends for something so trifle as a feeling deep in his breast. There was still so much that he would do with the remnants of his long life. His friends, those of the Fellowship who still lived, were important to him. Aragorn, King of Gondor and all free Men; the Hobbits, Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam; they still lived on, happy and at peace with the lives they now led. And of course he could not forget his one true friend, his companion in arms and all else, Gimli, son of Gloin, who lived not far from his home, away in the Lonely Mountains with his kin.

Though so near to one another, Legolas had not seen with his own keen eyes, Gimli's face, or heard his gruff voice in some twenty years. At that time they had traveled together to the kingdom of Gondor to celebrate the birth of Aragorn's last child, a girl by the name of Galana. Her beauty was like that of her grandmother and great-grandmother, with silver blond hair, as the elves of Lorien only possessed, and eyes a wide hazel in tribute of her grandfather. There was much joy in Gondor that day, as Arwen had not expected the birth of another child so late in her mortal life. But she would not deny Aragorn this gift, and a fifth child she gave to him and all through the free lands people rejoiced. Legolas had been overjoyed at the news, for he knew that Arwen had always longed for a girl-child to bless her life and until that point she had born only boys to her king. Legolas knew that Gimli would join him on the journey to Gondor and so they had set out together to bring their tidings to the King of Men.

It had been there in the White City that Legolas had known his heart for the first time in all its truth. There had been a great feast in honor of Aragorn's daughter, and laughter and song could be heard through the streets and circles of Gondor late into the night. Legolas had sung many songs in Galana's honor, though the child had long since departed the festivities, and it was only after the moon had risen and been in the sky for some time that he bid the King and his Queen a fair night and had left the celebration hall.

He knew not where he was led, for his body was not tired, nor was his mind, and he found himself alone in one of the many courtyards that had been rebuilt in and around the citadel of Minas Tirith. The moon, at its half, shed a silvery light, not unlike that which fell always in Loth Lorien. Legolas was little comforted by this and he sat upon an ivory bench near to which a stand of mallorn trees grew.

'A gift from Lorien, surely,' Legolas thought and again he was not comforted. His restlessness was a puzzle he could not solve and he found himself gazing, lost, into the black sky dotted with stars like gems mined from far beneath the earth, blanketing Gondor in its dark.

'You have been unlike yourself these past days, my friend.'

Legolas' eyes turned from the night sky to find Gimli before him. The dwarf stood with his hands behind his back, his bushy eyebrows raised in expectation. Legolas could not think of a face he found dearer to him.

'What brings you away from such a festive occasion, friend Gimli? Surely there are tales you could be telling, sights you could be describing?'

'I am certain that I could be doing these things,' Gimli said, nodding. 'Ah, but you wish to distract from my reasons for seeking you out. It seems a great weight bears upon your mind, Legolas. What burden could be so heavy as to make the shoulders of an Elf droop as yours do when you imagine no one watching?'

Legolas could not recall his friend being so very astute in the past, but he would not admit to his shortcomings. 'I know not what you mean, Gimli. In these times, free from malice and the dark hand that once hovered so menacingly above our very heads, there could not be a burden such as you describe.'

'Do you speak the truth, Elf, or do you use your words to distort the truth in some way?'

'Pray, Gimli,' Legolas raised his hands in placation, 'use not such harsh tones. I do not wish to argue in such joyous times.'

'Then tell me what presses upon you, my friend. Perhaps it would be that I can help.'

Legolas could only gaze at his companion, he who would be his brother in arms as Legolas would claim to any who asked, and he knew the truth in Gimli's speech. There was naught that Gimli would do to aid Legolas should the need arise, as there was nothing that Legolas would not do in answer to Gimli's question of assistance. Save this one time. Gimli could do nothing to ease that which bore so heavily upon Legolas, and the Elf, feeling deep within him exactly what was amiss, cried silently.

'There is little I would ask of you, Gimli,' Legolas said in his most quiet of voices. 'Save that you would continue to be my friend and companion, nigh even until the ships of the West prepare to sail for the Grey Havens with me on their deck.'

At this Gimli seemed stricken. 'You speak as if this time is not far off. Surely the sea calls you not. Not yet, my friend. There must be much you have yet to achieve, even in your long life.'

'Only one thing', Legolas thought, but said instead, 'The sea does not call to me in its siren song yet. But its weight bears always upon those of Elf-kind who remain in the world of Men. Already many of my kin have set sail for the Undying Lands.'

Gimli looked sad, and Legolas wished to comfort his friend but dared not. He would not force this burden upon one so dear, even if it meant forever grasping his feelings in silence. Even if it meant floundering in the worst of fates for Elves- the slow gray decay of love lost, wasting away until nothing save a shell is left and the presiding spirit is freed to the Halls of Mandos. Legolas would suffer this for he knew, and would admit, only now and for the first time, that what he felt for Gimli was not only that for a beloved companion and close friend and that the ache in his breast felt almost constantly now was the Dwarf's absence at his side. But, even if he did release the weary feelings that burned at the center of his being, his fate would remain locked, one and the same. For Gimli would die, as all mortal creatures must, and all that Legolas held close and dear would depart with him and Legolas would find himself lost, wandering Middle Earth until the day came that his body could not bear it and lost love would claim his ancient life.

'It is the sea, then, which you which troubles you so.' Gimli's eyes shuttered briefly and Legolas could only wonder what the Dwarf mind conjured behind Gimli's eyelids. 'Should you not go, at least to ease the heaviness of its call?' Gimli's eyes were open, shining like jet stones above the whiskers on his cheeks.

'The sea does not call yet. And even if it should, I will not go so long as my friends have need of me on these lands.'

It was a lie that only Legolas would acknowledge. If the pull of the sea became too much he would not deny it. Though he would go to his own sorrow and imminent death, he would go, and forever curse himself for his love.

'You will stay?' Gimli's sadness seemed lessened and Legolas could not help but smile. He had brought his friend some amount of joy, and it gladdened his heart to know that his presence was well received and desired by the Dwarf.

'Alas, yes, I will stay,' Legolas said in a light voice, the voice he had used to beguile those who knew him well into the false belief that he was not unhappy. 'You will have to put up with me for some time longer, Gimli. Are you certain you will not change your mind?'

'Nay,' and Gimli's voice was gruff but happy and filled with affection for his friend. 'Nay, I would not change my mind on this matter. You will stay and I will have my companion for as long as this body draws air.'

'You will.' Legolas stood and placed his hand on Gimli's shoulder, as he had done in Loth Lorien and numerous times thereafter. 'Never doubt that. You will.'

Twenty years had passed since those words were spoken. Legolas was kept abreast of Gimli's movements through Dwarves who came to trade with the Elves of Mirkwood. It would be that Gimli traveled far and anon, not unlike Mithrandir, moving from mountain range to mountain range. Legolas could only wonder at his reasons for doing this, but Gimli could rarely be found in the Lonely Mountains, where his permanent home lay. Such an oddity for a Dwarf, Legolas had thought, moving so very much and not rooting and staying in one place, as was their wont.

But none of this affected Legolas, not until the sea began its sonorous trill after decades of blessed silence. It flowed forever through the elm and the ash, skimming through shivering leaves, pulsing always in Legolas' mind and breast. He could not escape this, and he remembered his words to Gimli twenty years back and regretted his untruthful words. He could not fathom how he was to live without his friend, without the one who sustained his life, though he be immortal. He could not do without Gimli, son of Gloin, Dwarf of the high mountains. He held many dear to his heart, but none possessed it as Gimli did and Legolas thought he should have told Gimli that night, below the half moon, but his cowardice had stayed his hand and now twenty years had passed, wasted. He had taken no lover and found little interest in his princely title. There was nothing in Mirkwood left him.

The breeze of the forest brought to Legolas the scent of bark and blooming magnolia. Spring was upon them, and none reveled in that time of year like the Elves. But newly born grass and the growth of the trees, their branches covered with newly opened leaflets, revealed no beauty to Legolas. His heart was empty and there was none to fill it but one. Legolas' heart pounded as he stood alone on the bough of a tall beech tree. He had denied himself through fear and a pain he knew now to be that which belonged to rejection. This he feared above all else; to be denied Gimli's love was that which haunted his dreams. But he would not travel the paths to the West alone. He would not be deprived of Gimli a moment longer than need be.

The sound of the sea roared loud in Legolas' ears and he knew not how Gimli would accompany him on the ships that carried only Elven souls to the Havens and he cared not. Gimli would come or neither of them would and Legolas swore this to himself as he leapt deftly from his bough.

He would find Gimli, wherever he may be, and ask, nay beg if he must, the Dwarf to be his companion over the sea. He would tell Gimli of his love as well, as he deserved to know after the long years of Legolas' silence.

With a pounding heart and waves forever crashing behind him, Legolas made haste back to the palace where he would bid farewell to his brothers and all those close to him and set out in search of Gimli, who meant more to him than any, living or dead.

Legolas spent little time in discussion with his brothers. They were not unaware or their sibling's listless behavior and they knew what it entailed. They provided him with a horse, the best the stables kept, and gave to him all the supplies that he might need on his journey. Legolas mentioned nothing of Gimli, fearing that his brothers might attempt to dissuade him from such folly. He accepted their graciousness and kissed both lightly upon their cheeks.

'I will miss you both. If only you were accompanying me on my voyage.' Legolas stood now on the main path leading away from Mirkwood, toward the Lonely Mountain. His horse Eveseth, a chestnut steed raised with care and tenderness by Pentous, the single Elf horse handler in all of Mirkwood, whinnied softly and stamped his hoof in an impatient gesture.

'Our time will come soon, brother, and we will see you then. Until that moment think not of us, but of what awaits you in the West.'

And Legolas was saddened by his brothers' words but he shed no tears as he mounted and spurred Eveseth on toward the Lonely Mountain and Gimli, who held his future.

The journey to the mountain was a swift one and Legolas made it to the flat plains that surrounded the Lonely Mountain before the eve of the following day. He slowed Eveseth to a trot and spotted, from many miles off, a small band of Dwarves coming along his same path. One held aloft a banner that fluttered in the winds that rose wild on the plains but never reached the interior of the forest. The banner colors Legolas recognized and he smiled as the green and black drew closer.

'Hail, Elf,' came a loud call once Legolas was in close range of the Dwarves. 'What brings you along this ill-used path when the ferries run regularly along the river?'

'Hail, Dwarf,' Legolas responded, and could not help a smile. Relations between the Mirkwood Elves and the Dwarves who inhabited the Lonely Mountain and its sister mountain range, The Iron Hills, had become less strained in the years following the defeat of Sauron. There were still continuing feuds in some isolated cases, but on a wide scale Dwarves and Elves had set their past grievances aside. Legolas was well aware that this had much to do with the departure of a great many Elves to the West. There was little doubt in his mind that soon the lands of Middle Earth, which Elves once ruled with serenity and knowledge, would belong wholly to Men. 'I do not seek to trade for I have little of value upon my person, so the ferries would do me little good. I do, however, desire knowledge that perhaps you might give me.'

The Dwarves paused a few feet away, seeming curious but showing no other emotion. The winds heightened and Legolas could sense a spring storm forming. The grass, green and bright, shimmered around the ponies' legs, obscuring them.

'You seek knowledge?' The Dwarf, obviously the leader, grunted and it reminded Legolas so much of Gimli that his heart swelled. But this Dwarf was not Gimli as his beard was a dark blond and his eyes the color of jade stones. 'I would have your name, Elf, before surrendering any knowledge.'

'I would give it, to keep peace between us,' Legolas said, his voice warm with amusement. 'I am Legolas Greenleaf. I travel in search of Gimli, Gloin's son, who fought by my side in the battle for the One Ring. Would you be able to tell me his whereabouts?'

The Dwarf's eyebrows rose considerably at Legolas' name, surprise clearly read upon his features. 'Many songs we have heard of your exploits, friend Legolas, and we would do anything in your aid for that service which you have done us.' The Dwarves, all five of them, dismounted, and though the grasses reached almost to their chins, they bowed before Legolas who was indeed shocked.

'You need not bow before me, friends. I desire not your praise, though I would have your names so that I might remember those who have honored me thus.'

The Dwarves stood straight again as Legolas dismounted swiftly from Eveseth's back. As had become habit when he and Gimli had ridden across the lands to visit Fanghorn Forest and then Helms Deep, Legolas lowered himself to his knees to allow eye to eye contact while speaking. Few Elves, or Men for that matter, provided this courtesy to Dwarves, but Legolas found no shame in the act.

'I am called Deevan, Dovin's son, and these are my brothers, Dosen, Rarhed, Comdav and Kulli.'

Legolas bowed his head before looking again into the face of Deevan. 'You have just left the Lonely Mountain then?'

'Yes, but I fear he whom you seek is not present in their halls. Gimli has been gone these past weeks, headed toward Helms Deep where pilfering and robbing has been taking place.'

'Robbing!' Legolas placed his hand upon his breast. 'But the caves of Helms Deep are protected by the King.'

'This is true, but the thieves arrive at night through the long winding tunnels leading into Helms Deep from the rear of the stronghold. They gather what they can and leave before sunrise. It has only been recently that any notice has been taken. The King of Men sent a small regiment from Gondor to play as guard but Gimli insisted upon going once the news of this slander reached his ears.'

'Yes. The caverns of Helms Deep mean more to him than most. He would wish to be there to protect it. How long has it been since his departure?'

'Again, some weeks, perhaps two, maybe three. We were preparing for our own journey into Mirkwood and I am afraid I was not tracking his movements.'

'That is all right. I know the path to Helms Deep well. Thank you my friends.' With these words Legolas rose and placed a hand on the shoulder of Deevan, Dovin's son. 'Your names I will remember even as I depart these lands. Take care 'ere you enter Mirkwood for there are still dangers present within its branches and hidden in its darker burrows.'

'We will remember your words, Legolas Greenleaf. May Thorin's Axe guide your way.'

Legolas nodded before deftly mounting Eveseth and with a wave to the Dwarves he took flight across the shimmering plains. He would soon lose the sun and the scent of the storm grew ever stronger, but Legolas held no fear and he would ride until Eveseth forced rest upon him. The way to Rohan was long but there was little that would hold Legolas in place. Lowering himself closer to Eveseth's neck to increase his speed, Legolas looked ahead in hope.

Though he rode with the speed of the wind, Legolas' journey was slowed considerably by weather and rain. It turned the ground to mud, slowing Eveseth's pace more and more and Legolas could not force the horse to greater speeds for fear of harming him. But Legolas would not stop. Days passed with only brief intervals to rest, the forest of Mirkwood fading to naught but faded green pinpricks in a vanishing distance.

Legolas met no living soul in his speed, though he knew men inhabited the plains of the Wilderland. He did not seek companionship and avoided any sign or trail that might lead to a village or settlement. The rains fell continuously and at many points Legolas found himself leading Eveseth slowly through newly formed bogs and shallow quagmires. To him it seemed as if nature itself had set a hand in keeping him from achieving his goal. It was a disheartening thought and Legolas could only beg his heart to remain in good cheer and to ignore the sound of the sea and the crying of the gulls.

It was on his fifth day of travel, when the winds had lessened and the rain fell in a faint mist about the land, that Legolas came upon battle. The plains were faded gray and the fog that lay as a blanket over the earth revealed Legolas' nearness to the Anduin. By all rights he should have been able to hear the river rushing, but the clang and shudder of swords meeting was the only sound prevalent. Eyes narrowing, Legolas could make out the shadows of men and... orcs!

Cursing silently, Legolas spurred Eveseth toward the battle, for though he greatly desired to make the ferry that forged the Anduin once daily from a small village a few leagues away, Legolas could not leave these men to fight without at least lending his bow as aid. The sounds of battle neared and the fog was soon no shroud for Elven sight and Legolas saw that the men, who bore the shields of Gondor emblazoned with the white tree and seven stars, were outnumbered by a goodly amount. Without pause Legolas took his bow from its fastened grip on his back, swiftly notched an arrow and let it fly into the nearest orc.

His presence was swiftly noted by those in battle, but ignored for all other purposes. Legolas dismounted and swiftly ingratiated himself into battle with a single-minded abandon. He had not used his long knives in a great while and he found vast enjoyment in dispatching any orc who might seek him in a fight. The fog swirled about him as he made his way through the carnage, easily avoiding the slow swipes of blackened orc blades. The howls of dying orcs and the infrequent screams of men blended together, stretching and pulling across Legolas' hearing like gauze. He tuned them out as best he could, drawing his knives across throat and stomach, spilling lifeblood as he went. His thoughts were in disarray, as he could think of nothing save Gimli, who was not by his side in this encounter. Side stepping a swinging blade, Legolas turned, stabbing forward, gutting the orc to his right, but moving too slowly to evade the orc to his left. Shifting, Legolas barely avoided dismemberment, the orc blade instead slicing deep into his shoulder. He fell to his knees under the weight of the blow and could not help a cry of pain. The orc raised his sword for the finishing blow, eyes squinted and wretched, but before the creature's arms could fall Legolas twisted and sent his long knives both delving deep into the orc's belly. Legolas wrenched his arms with all his might, eviscerating the orc and the monster shrieked in agony before collapsing.

Slowly removing his blades from the corpse, Legolas rose and clinched bloody fists in preparation for continued battle, but there were few orcs left standing, the cowards preferring to run than stand and fight. Legolas watched them flee, knowing the men of Gondor would hunt them down and finish them.

'You fought well.'

Legolas glanced to his right and nodded toward the voice. A Man stood there, tall with long brown hair. He bore the straight nose and high brow of the Men of Gondor and Legolas bowed at the sight of the white tree with its crown of seven stars painted in silver across the man's breastplate.

'Man of Gondor. You fight at the King's will?'

'Aye. He bids us patrol the borders along the Anduin, as there has been talk of increased orc activity. I am Wilthin, Captain of these men. I would not have expected an Elf to be traveling alone on these roads, if one can call them thus.'

Legolas nodded again and slowly re-sheathed his blades. 'I am Legolas of Mirkwood. I travel to Helms Deep and though I am in haste, when I came upon this skirmish I could not pass and leave you in peril.'

Wilthin who, like most, had met none of the famous Nine save the King, bowed deep, his hand placed over the white tree on his breast. 'It is an honor to meet you, Legolas of Mirkwood. During battle I witnessed you take a wound, and though you be in haste, would you not allow one of my men to mend it?'

'I would say nay, but I am indeed in some pain, and though I hurry I will make no progress as night is already beginning to fall.'

'You will camp with us then. I would be much honored to have one of the Nine in my presence.'

'I thank you for this kind offer. I will join you for the night but must take leave before dawns light.'

'Then it shall be done!' The Man of Gondor turned and headed toward his men, Legolas following close behind.

The night was long for Legolas and he found no rest though he was not lacking companionship. Wilthin knew much of the goings on in Rohan, as he and his men had recently departed the kingdom of Edoras. Legolas enquired after the events at Helms Deep and Wilthin spoke of guards on duty nightly to keep the treasures of the caverns safe. Legolas was overjoyed at this news and though it gladdened his heart, he could not help but feel an increased desire to be on his way.

The fire the Gondorian's had built had not yet wilted to coals when Legolas rose from his place in search of Wilthin. He could linger no longer despite the early hour. He found the captain on watch, eyes narrowed as he gazed into the fog in search of any movement. His eyes found Legolas in the gloom and he stood from his seated position.

'What brings you into this dimness, Master Elf? Have your keen eyes spotted something mine might have missed?' Wilthin's hand moved to the hilt of his sword and Legolas shook his head.

'Nay, there is no cause for alarm. I come to wish you farewell. I must be on my way. My errand is dire and I have delayed long enough.'

'Surely you would wait for the sky to brighten more. The stars do not even shine to guide you.'

'I do not need them as guide. I would thank you for your kindness, and will give my word to your King in the event that I should see him and I will hold your name in high regard.'

'I would have given aid to any who would assist Gondor in battle, but I thank you for your words.'

'Farewell then, Man of Gondor.' Legolas whistled high into the night air and Eveseth appeared from the dark as though he were an apparition, pausing before Legolas with a snort. Legolas ran a hand down the steed's neck and whispered Elvish words of comfort into his pricked ear before mounting. Legolas looked his last at Wilthin, whose face he would never meet again, and with a wave and a nod was off, disappearing swiftly into the fog.

Legolas was grateful that the remainder of his journey to Rohan was uneventful. The rains stopped once he crossed the Anduin, and Eveseth was spurred on as if he knew the path to Rohan deep in his heart. Legolas felt that this might well have been the case. The Horse Lords had donated the stud that had fathered Eveseth; the road to Rohan must have been engrained in his blood.

Legolas was glad for the speed. It gave him little time to ponder his fate. He could not worry on what would become of him if Gimli rejected his pleas. He knew he would be unable to bare that ultimate sadness and even the call of the sea would hold no sway over him if Gimli were to renounce their friendship. Legolas used the pain in his shoulder to distract his errant thoughts, focused instead on the sharp sting caused by the pounding of Eveseth's hooves across the terrain. Of course he could not completely ignore the beauty of Rohan though it passed in a blur of movement. He had not ridden through these lands in decades and he wished, however briefly, that he were not hurried so that he might enjoy the majesty of Rohan's rolling hills and valleys. Eómer King had kept the lands of Rohan pristine, and rebuilt that which had been destroyed, and Legolas wept silently at his hearts refusal to revel overlong in the beauty that surrounded him. He was waning under the bright sun and velveteen blue skies of the Horse Lords' country.

His wound, which should have been well healed and forgotten by now, continued to fester even in its healing wrap. Legolas shuddered at the implications. The gulls cried always in his ears and Legolas found himself cringing away from them, clinging to Eveseth as though the horse provided his only anchor to Middle-Earth. Legolas knew, as he knew a great many things, that if Gimli were to deny him he would die, quickly as opposed to slowly. He was fading already and it had been a mere four days since he had fought at full strength alongside Wilthin.

'Is this to be my fate, then? To die before ever revealing my thoughts to the only one that matters?' Legolas drew an uneasy breath and, glancing up, found the kingdom of Edoras small in the distance. His heart seized at the sight. He would have to stop there to take his rest for he could not make the journey to Helms Deep without pause.

'Ride with the wind, my friend,' Legolas said softly to Eveseth. 'Prove yourself without a doubt to be of Rohan stock.'

Eveseth neighed and tossed his head and his slow trot melted into a run that none other could match save Shadowfax. Legolas watched Edoras grow closer and closer still until the gates were before him and Eveseth was coated in a shining sweat. The gates were opened wide, and Legolas had no doubt that his approach had been seen and prepared for long before his arrival.

There was much activity in the lanes and aisles of Edoras and few took notice of the Elf passing slowly amongst them. Legolas made his way to the palace and dismounted once he reached the stone steps that led toward the King's chamber. He patted Eveseth, rubbing the area between the horse's eyes with some affection.

'We rest now, Eveseth. None deserve it more than you.'

Eveseth whinnied in response and Legolas found a smile somewhere for a soul as weary as his.

'We have watched your approach from afar, Legolas Thranduilsson.'

Legolas turned and his smile widened at the sight before him. A man, as tall as Legolas, with hair as red as flame and eyes as clear blue as the Anduin smiled back at him, his arm outstretched. Legolas clasped his hand before releasing him and bowing.

'Lord Jerehen.'

Jerehen laughed, shaking his head. 'Such formalities. Has it been that long since we have laid eyes on one another?'

'The last I saw of you, you had hardly reached my breast and were impetuous enough to cause Eómer a great deal of trouble.'

'I was a child then, new to the North and vastly unsure of myself. That was twenty years ago. I've matured since those times.'

'I should hope so. You would make no concubine if you did not know your place.'

'Ah, I see you have not changed in the years we have been absent from one another. Do you not realize it is cruel to tease one so much younger than yourself?'

'I realize no such thing, my Lord,' Legolas said and Jerehen laughed again and clapped his hand on Legolas' shoulder. He winced, shoulder sagging and the laughter cleared Jerehen's face.

'You are hurt.' Jerehen's voice was stern, and Legolas nodded. 'How?'

'I lent my aid to a captain of Gondor when he was in need.'

'When?'

'Some days past.'

'You are Elven. This wound should have healed long before now.' Jerehen's gaze was as penetrating as any Elf's and Legolas looked away from the icy eyes of Eómer King's concubine. 'This is not merely a social visit then, Legolas. I can tell as much from your eyes, though you avoid my gaze. Why have you come?'

'I travel to Helms Deep. I would speak to an old friend who has been much on my mind of late. I must rest, and perhaps ask a change of horse for I would not run my own steed further into the ground. He has brought me from Mirkwood to Rohan in not but ten days.'

'Ten days! That seems almost impossible, but, with an Elven horse, I would say nothing is impossible.'

'And you would be right save that the blood of Rohans greatest steeds also runs through his veins. He has done his job well and I will not reward him with more travel.'

'Then he shall be housed and well cared for.' Jerehen nodded and Legolas watched as two young boys appeared and led Eveseth slowly away. The horse made no protest and Jerehan sighed. 'Come, Legolas, I would not deny you your rest. I can not ignore the pain you are in another moment.'

'I am in little pain, my friend.'

'You forget, Legolas, that Elven blood runs through me. There is more to your story that you are not saying, this I can easily tell. I will not press you to unburden yourself out of respect, but I will not be lied to.'

The ache in Legolas' heart was spreading, pulsing through him as slowly as waves crashing against the shore. Jerehan was no fool and Legolas knew not why he chose to keep the truth close to himself when Jerehan would do nothing but provide a welcome presence in his solitude.

'Forgive me, Jerehan, I would not disrespect you in your house. My journey, though, has been long and harrowing. I wish only to take my rest.'

'Then it shall be as you wish.' Jerehan's voice gentled and he inhaled deeply. Legolas watched the man and his eyes were as two mirrors reflecting the light of the sun. 'The sea calls out to you, does it not?'

'It does.' Legolas did not know that his voice could sound so forlorn. Had he resigned himself to death so soon? Jerehan's eyes clouded with pain as if he had read Legolas' thoughts.

'Will you follow?'

'I must. I will not deny this thing. I have but one task yet to perform.'

'Yes.' Jerehan turned and began climbing the stairs leading up toward the palace. 'Come, Legolas, you will find your rest here, and perhaps, for now, be at peace.'

Legolas nodded and matched his steps to Jerehan's.

Legolas took great comfort in finally being allowed to shed his quiver and cloak. The inner chamber of the King's hall was empty, leaving an empty thrown amongst the pillars and the cold stone steps. Handing his accoutrements to a waiting servant, Legolas followed Jerehan further into the palace. The Man was silent, black and red robes shifting against the granite floors with every step he took. The halls were lit with large yellow candles that burned from long wicks. The scent of beeswax permeated the air and Legolas thought briefly of his home in the fall.

'You'll have to excuse such a solitary welcome, Legolas,' Jerehan said, slowing his pace somewhat, so that he walked alongside his guest. 'Our Queen has departed for a brief respite in the south where her family dwells.'

'And Eómer?'

'He will arrive shortly, I believe. He left close to a week ago for Helms Deep.'

Legolas was quiet at the mention of Helms Deep, the wound in his shoulder throbbing twofold as if in reprimand. His thoughts skittered in a panic. He should not have stopped at Edoras, but should have attempted the extended journey to Helms Deep. He could feel himself growing fainter, lighter, and he feared he would be in no condition to make Helms Deep come the morrow.

'Who is it you seek at the citadel, Master Elf?' Jerehan asked, pushing open the wide doors of a singular room set deep inside the palace. The room was sparsely decorated, with little more than a bed, a rug and a fireplace with a brightly burning fire in its depths.

'I wish to speak with the dwarf Gimli.'

'Ah, Master Gimli. He has been much help of late. The goings on at Helms Deep had Eómer somewhat fluxed, as Helms Deep is a protected sanctuary of Gondor's King. Eómer did not know whether he should interfere or await word from Aragorn. Gimli provided excellent advice in the matter.'

'I am glad. The treasures of Helms Deep are dear to Gimli.' Legolas sighed, flexed his shoulder and winced.

'Come; let me see your wound. If only Lothiriel were here. Our Queen is an accomplished healer and would remove any hurt within the hour.'

'I have enough faith in you, my Lord. You need not fear recrimination on my part.'

Legolas slowly removed his tunic, even before he was bid to, and he felt his shoulders hunch, the pain of his wound more than he would admit. Jerehan gingerly removed the bandage and his hand fell away in shock.

'The wound has not healed at all!' Jerehan gasped and Legolas stared straight ahead, watching the flames of the fire. 'Legolas, your wound still weeps blood.'

'Yes.' There were times while astride Eveseth when Legolas could feel the dim whisper of blood trailing down the path of his spine. It had disconcerted him, but there was little to be done.

'I do not understand why an Elf's wounds do not heal.'

'I do the impossible, Jerehen' Legolas replied, voice a shadow. 'The sea bids me come, and I ignore it for my own reasons. My heart, I fear, is wavering.' Legolas paused, recalling the brief encounter near the Anduin, the screams of dying men and orcs that were so much the same as in the battles he had fought during the War of the One Ring. His life had been in peril then, but never had he feared overly much for his existence. Now, closing his eyes caused a tremor of terror to thunder livid and dark through his veins. What if he failed to waken from his Elven dreams, Gimli's name on his lifeless lips? 'My body, though long lived, is failing me. I am dying.'

'Elves are immortal in all cases save a few.'

'This is true.' Legolas said no more, instead walked to the bed and lay down. The blood of his wound trickled down his sides as he lay on his front and he ignored the wetness.

'Your wound?' Jerehan's voice seemed to sound from afar but Legolas kept his gaze on the far wall.

'No potion could cure my ills, my friend. I will rest, though in fear. I will leave for Helms Deep at dawns light.'

'As you wish.'

Legolas did not hear Jerehan leave the room. Tears as bright as diamonds trailed down Legolas' cheeks and his thoughts were on Gimli. He had resigned himself to death though he had made every effort to delay the inevitable. Still, he would not die, not before he spoke his peace to Gimli. Taking a deep breath, Legolas allowed himself to fade into the Elven dreamscape.

Legolas came again to himself and was greeted by the sound of a merrily crackling fire and the quiet grumbling of a dwarf. There was no other dwarf that would be in his rooms and sitting so near to him. Legolas did not know how it was that Gimli had appeared and it made no difference. Legolas righted himself so he sat facing Gimli's direction.

He found Gimli sitting in a wide chair, meant quite obviously for a man, for the dwarf's legs were dangling some inches from the ground. Gimli's appearance had changed in the twenty years they had been apart. His hair and beard were almost completely silver, shot through with a few strands of remaining brown. The lines around his eyes were deeper and his hands were as gnarled as the bark of a centuries old oak tree. It was made plain by the axe resting at Gimli's side that though he had aged his years had not disenabled him in any way. Legolas could think of no sight that could ease his mind more.

'Gimli.'

Gimli was already looking at him and he nodded as Legolas spoke. 'You are a fool of an Elf.'

Legolas frowned. 'Am I?'

'You are! You could not have waited until I returned to the Lonely Mountains? Instead you travel as the wind to reach me here when I would have made Mirkwood within the end of the month. Upon my return with the King Eómer, I am informed that you were wounded in battle and that the wound would not heal. You have nary an idea what a panic you sent me in.'

'My intent in traveling in search of you was not to frighten you unduly.'

'Indeed. Then why have you come, Legolas?' Gimli's voice had lost its heat and now he seemed weary.

'I wished to speak with you. It is a matter of much importance.'

'Are you in pain from your wound?'

'No.' And Legolas found that this was the truth. The wound, though still sore, was not aching as it had done earlier.

'Then speak your mind, for I would not have you in pain while you recount your tale.'

'I have no tale to recount, Gimli. I have a request to make of you.'

Gimli raised bushy silver eyebrows in enquiry. 'A request?'

'Aye. The sea calls to me, and I cannot ignore its summons any longer. I will travel to the West but I would not go alone. There is much that I have not said to you in these past years. I regret much, but I cannot turn back time. I come before you now, Gimli, companion in arms and dearest friend to me, to bare my heart to you.'

'What have you in your heart, my friend? I will listen to all you have to say.'

In a smooth unencumbered movement, Legolas left the bed and walked until he stood before Gimli. Slowly he lowered himself to his knees so that he and the Dwarf gazed easily at one another.

'Do you believe me when I say that you are dear to me as no other, living or dead?' Gimli nodded and Legolas licked dry lips. 'Would you believe me when I say that no other Elf cares for a Dwarf as I care for you and as you care for me?' Again Gimli nodded. 'Our friendship means more to me, Gimli, than all the gold in my father's treasury. I would trade it easily were your life at stake. We have fought together countless times and you have never denied me service though I be Elvish. You are unique, I think, among your kind and it is because of this that I love you.'

'You love me?'

'Yes. As more than a brother, or companion. I have longed for you since the birth of Aragorn's last child. I said nothing for I feared your reaction and I could not think to live without at least your friendship. But the sea calls for me, it hounds me, ever louder and more persistent; I cannot disregard its call for much longer. But, Gimli, neither can I live without you. I would take you with me to the Gray Havens and we would remain together there, unchanged for all of remaining time.'

Gimli's dark eyes were shuttered and Legolas dared not look away from them.

'You said nothing in all of these years, Elf.'

'I could not.'

'Why?' There was a surprising vehemence in Gimli's tone and Legolas felt his heart quake within his chest.

'I have spoken already of my fear, Gimli. Even then, before I knew of my love for you, I could not conceive of living without you. Were I to speak of my love and have you deny me, it would have destroyed me. I could not bare it.'

'I would call you a coward, Legolas of Mirkwood.' Gimli's voice was hard and Legolas felt his spine stiffen, his jaw tighten and his eyes narrow. 'I would call you any number of names in answer to your foolishness, but I would have to direct these words at myself as well.'

Legolas could not recall feeling so weak since long before his thousandth birthday, when he was still learning the proper ways to act as an Elf. 'Gimli...'

'I cannot say that I loved you in Gondor, Legolas. But after, I found myself desiring you in more ways than mere friendship could provide. I called myself a fool, though, an old fool who pined for that which he could never attain. I would have died with my affection for you buried deep within me. I have not a great deal of time left in Middle-Earth and I had hoped that I would never have to face your rejection.'

'I would not have rejected you, Gimli. Never,' Legolas said softly. Gimli huffed and shook his head.

'There was no way that I could have known that, as there was no way that you could have known of my acceptance of your feelings.'

Legolas placed his hand on Gimli's thigh and stared long into the dark eyes before him. 'I was so certain that you would deny me. I was prepared to die.'

'Should you die, Legolas, I will follow. Even if I have to fight my way into the Elven Halls of Mandos, I will follow.'

Legolas could not stop the tears that fell at this oath and he raised his other hand to rest on Gimli's cheek. 'Will you accompany me to the West?'

'A Dwarf would not be accepted into the Gray Havens.'

'You are in the Lady Galadriel's favor, Gimli. Or do you not remember?'

'Of course I remember. How could I ever forget? Her beauty was like naught that I have ever seen.'

'Yes. And she would deny you nothing that was in her power. She will allow you entrance to the Undying lands, Gimli. Now, will you answer my query?'

'As the Lady could deny her willing servant nothing, I would deny you nothing, Legolas. If it is your wish that I travel with you to the Havens then it will be done.'

'It is my wish, dear Gimli. It is all that I have longed for.'

Slowly, with a hesitancy that Legolas had never experienced with past lovers, he leaned forward, bringing his face to within an inch of Gimli's. His shoulder pulsed suddenly, sparking agonized feeling down Legolas' back, but he ignored the pain and the squall of the sea birds beckoning him and he let his lips meet Gimli's.

This was truly his hearts desire and Legolas leaned further in, spreading Gimli's thighs and positioning himself between them. Legolas wished he could give Gimli more than a mere kiss on this night, but in his weakened state he did not dare chance it. Gimli realized this, as his hands were gentle on Legolas' sides. Legolas could not help but think that a single kiss would suffice as they had an eternity to learn one another. The journey west would be a more leisurely jaunt, giving Legolas an opportune time to recover his strength. And when they reached the shores of the Gray Havens they would board, hand in hand. He and Gimli would go on, unchanged through the ages, with time enough to discover.

The End