Pretty Blue Eyes

Chapter 1

Rivendell: Why are you coming?

            Golden beams of late-afternoon sun pierced a canopy of slender branches. A gentle breeze wafted through the room, teasing Frodo’s curly brown hair and coaxing him away from his map and out onto the balcony.

            Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of sweet, fresh air, Frodo allowed himself to relax, letting the concerns of the coming quest melt away. Frodo opened his eyes and gazed at the gardens below. Elves wandered along stone pathways and sat in pairs beneath sturdy trees. Some of the Fair Folk sang, their voices blending with the birds’. Others talked or laughed as the worked amongst the brightly colored plants. Frodo spotted Sam on his knees beside a flowering bush, listening intently to a dark-haired Elf explain its’ properties.

            As he watched, Frodo became aware of a familiar looking Elf traversing a path near the river. Frodo cocked his head, trying to recall the Elf’s name. A ray of sun glinted off the carved pattern of a bow at the Elf’s back, and Frodo had it. This was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, one of those accompanying Frodo on his journey to Mordor. Now that he thought about it that was all Frodo really knew about the prince. He had not yet had a chance to talk to him. 

            Frodo glanced over his shoulder at the map sitting on his desk and sighed. He should really get back to work, if he was going to feel anywhere near prepared for this journey; but the sunshine was so inviting, and the opportunity to speak to Legolas was too good to pass up. He turned and headed out the door to the ornately carved staircase leading directly to the garden paths.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Frodo approached the riverbank carefully. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the river, just more…cautious around it. His childhood fear of the water had never entirely left him, and he had no desire to slip and fall.

            Frodo had lost sight of Legolas some time ago, so he followed instead the sound of the Elf’s soft singing, until he now stood at the base of a tall cliff. Frodo looked up, and sure enough, there was the elusive Elf, perched atop a ledge halfway up the towering cliff face. Frodo sighed. He very much wished to speak with Legolas, but he would have to begin climbing to do so- something Hobbits weren’t too fond of. Resigned, he started up, intent on a conversation with the blond Elf.

~*~*~*~*~*~

            Legolas sang softly to himself as he inspected his bowstring, testing its readiness for battle. The song recalled his woodland home, and the family he had left behind. How he missed them! He hated being away with the constant threat of war, but his dear ones had plenty of protection, and he was needed here.

            The skittering of falling pebbles startled Legolas from his thoughts. He glanced down, surprised to find the Ring-bearer scaling the rock face. Legolas laid his bow aside and reached out a slender hand to help the Hobbit. “Frodo?”

            Frodo looked up, startled. He had been so absorbed with putting one hand over the other and not looking down that he failed to notice he had nearly reached his destination. He took the proffered hand gratefully, allowing Legolas to pull him to the safety of the ledge.

            Legolas waited for Frodo to catch his breath, then asked: “What brings you up here, my friend? I thought your folk hated heights.”

            Frodo sighed. “Well, we don’t exactly hate heights, but we aren’t fond of them either.” He glanced up curiously at the Elf. “Who told you that?”

            Legolas smiled. “Aragorn is one of my closest friends, and we share much with each other. He has frequently spoken of the Halflings to me.”

            “Hobbits,” Frodo corrected.

            “Hobbits,” Legolas conceded, another smile crossing his face.

            Frodo turned thoughtful. “How long have you known Aragorn?”

            “Longer than you have been alive, my friend,” the archer responded.

            Frodo narrowed his eyes. “How did you meet him?”

            Legolas laughed. “You are almost as full of questions are your younger cousin!”

            Frodo grinned. “No one can be as inquisitive as Pippin!”

            Legolas smiled. “Perhaps not, but to answer your question, Frodo, we met when Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond’s sons, came to visit Mirkwood. The twins are also good friends of mine, and had not been to the Great Wood in some time. Aragorn had grown old enough and skilled enough to handle such an arduous journey, so they brought him along as part of his training. When our scouts reported their entry into the wood, I decided to play a trick on my friends the moment they entered my father’s realm.”

“A trick?” Frodo’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

Legolas chuckled. “Indeed. This is a long-standing tradition between Elladan, Elrohir, and me, but this time I was unaware there was a third person. Unfortunately for Aragorn, the twins were aware of the trick in time to avoid most of the result, but our poor Ranger took the brunt of it. He accepted his fate with good grace and within a week had repaid me for it. We shared many other adventures that summer, and have been fast friends- and partners in mischief, ever since.”

            Frodo laughed. “I can imagine the fun you must have had with Aragorn around to aid in your tricks.”

            “It was indeed fun, and still is occasionally. But now it is your turn to answer a question. I understand that you were not always Bilbo’s heir. How did you come to live with him?”

            “My parents were drowned in a boating accident when I was very young,” Frodo explained. “We were living in Buckland at the time, so my relatives in Brandy Hall brought me to live with them. The Master of Buckland meant well when he took me in, but I was lost among all of those relatives. No one noticed me much, except Bilbo. Whenever he came to visit, he made sure to spend time with me. He saw how lonely I was, so he decided to rescue me. Bilbo persuaded Master Brandybuck to let me come live with him, since he is my nearest relative. The Master agreed, Bilbo brought me to Bag End, and I’ve been living there ever since. Why do you look down the arrow like that, Legolas?”

            Legolas chuckled at the abrupt change in topic. Must be a Hobbit trait, he thought. Sam and Pippin had done it to him earlier that day. He narrowed his eyes and stared down the shaft of the arrow he held, turning it slowly. All throughout their conversation, Legolas had been checking each of the arrows in his quiver. He was almost finished when Frodo switched topics on him. He set the arrow down and retrieved a previously inspected arrow. “I check to make sure that there are no flaws, so I can be sure they will travel where I want them to in a battle. See for yourself.” He handed the arrow to Frodo.

            Frodo squinted his blue eyes the same way Legolas had, looking for mistakes.

            “Is the shaft straight; does it curve at all? Are there any bumps or cracks?”

            “Not that I can see.”

            “Good. There isn’t anything wrong with the shaft. Now test the feathers. See if they are stiff and remain attached. Are they bent in any way?”

            Frodo gave each feather a gentle tug. “They seem fine as well; they certainly aren’t going any where.”

            “Very good. Now check the head of the arrow. It cannot move at all.”

            Frodo tried to wiggle the arrowhead. “It’s moving some.”
            Legolas nodded. “Well done. I will need to repair that one. If the head wobbles like that, it can through off the flight of the arrow, and we don’t want that happening in the middle of a battle, do we?”

            Frodo shook his head. “No, I guess we don’t.” He handed the arrow back to Legolas, who set it aside and picked up another. Frodo watched as the Elf finished examining the last of his arrows, but his mind was elsewhere.

            Legolas glanced at his silent companion. “Is something wrong, Frodo? You’ve grown very quiet.”

            Frodo blinked and focused again. “Not really. I was just thinking about something.”

            “Anything you wish to discuss?”

            “Well…” Frodo paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. He wanted to word this correctly. He finally gave up and blurted: “Why are you coming?”

Legolas set aside the last arrow and turned his full attention on the Hobbit. “What do you mean?”

            “I know Lord Elrond chose you to represent the elves, but what I’m really wondering is, why did you agree to come? From the way you talk about it, you love Mirkwood very much, and it’s in serious danger. Why did you agree to come with me when you could have gone home?”

            “Ah, I see.”

            Frodo sighed. “I’m afraid that didn’t come out quite right.”

            Legolas shook his head. “No, Frodo, you worded it just fine. I believe I understand what you are asking.” The Elf prince sighed and leaned forward, long arms resting on his knees. Frodo watched him expectantly. When Legolas spoke, there was a firm set to his jaw and a surety of purpose. “I care for Mirkwood the same way you do for the Shire. I would love to go home and be with my family, but there are others who need my skills more, others who are unprotected and face a graver danger. If I go home, I will be one among many hundreds. If I go with you, I may be one, but with unique skills to offer. With you I can truly be of some help.” Legolas’ expression softened and grew distant. “This is the best way to protect my pretty blue eyes.”

            Legolas said this so softly Frodo was unsure he had heard correctly. “Pretty blue eyes?” he asked, but Legolas didn’t answer. He was lost in some pleasant memory that brought a smile to his face. When it became clear Legolas wasn’t going to answer, Frodo gave a little shrug and turned his attention to the slowly changing colors of the evening sky.

            After a few moments, Legolas blinked and came back to the present. “Forgive me, Frodo, I didn’t meant to drift off like that. I am sorry.”

            Frodo shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry for, Legolas. I drift off like that myself sometimes.”

            Legolas smiled. “Yes, I’ve noticed you do that.”

            Frodo cringed. “Is it really that obvious?”

            “Only to one who does it himself and knows the look. It is understandable when you have so much weighing on your mind.”

            You have no idea how accurate a description that is, Legolas, Frodo thought. “Good.”

            “I hope you have not been waiting too long for me to come back,” Legolas said.

            “No, not at all. Besides, I’ve been enjoying watching the sky change from blue to orange.” Just then, the bell rang for supper, and as if on cue, Frodo’s stomached growled an answer. The Elf and Hobbit burst out laughing.

            “Well, my young friend,” Legolas said between chuckles, “it seems that a Hobbit’s stomach becomes rather insistent when it needs to be satisfied. Perhaps we should take care of that, and quickly!”      

            Frodo grinned broadly. “I suppose we should. Although, I did interrupt your time alone, so if you wish not to return with me, I’ll understand.”

            “Nay, Frodo. You are not an interruption. Our conversation was pleasant, and respite enough. I shall descend first, so as to steady you should you slip.” Legolas replied.

            “Thank you,” Frodo smiled gratefully. Legolas slung bow and quiver over his back and nimbly slipped over the edge. He reached to help Frodo find his footing.

            “By the way, Frodo, you never answered my original question.”

            “Which question was that, Legolas?” Frodo paused with his hands gripping the edge and turned his head to look at the Elf.

            “What brought you up here?”

            Their eyes locked, the ocean’s brilliant blue meeting the summer’s morning sky. The Ring-bearer smiled. “I hoped for exactly what we’ve been doing, Legolas. I wished only to get to know a friend.” Legolas returned the smile, and they descended to the ground, and supper.

AN: This is revised version of a story which I had only posted the first chapter to previously. That was so long ago, I'm not sure anyone will remember it, but I thought I'd mention it anyhow. The second chapter will be up shortly, and I will post the rest as I get them revised. Thank you for reading, and please, review! :)

Pretty Blue Eyes

Chapter 2

Hollin: Why are you here?

            Merry shifted position, trying to find a more comfortable spot on his rock ledge. It was his turn to watch, and it was a quiet one thus far. Too quiet, in fact. It was eerie without the sounds of birds and insects.

            Merry squinted up at the sun. It was nearly noon. Someone would be along shortly to relieve him. Just then, Merry heard footsteps coming up behind him, and he tried to guess who it was. These were not the booted feet of Aragorn or Boromir, nor were they the heavy steps of Gimli. There was no sound of a staff upon the ground, so it was not Gandalf. It did not sound quite like Hobbit feet either. That left him only one choice: Legolas. Merry turned to greet the Elf. “Hello, Legolas. Come to take over the watch from me?”

            Legolas smiled. “Indeed I have, Meriadoc. I trust all has been quiet?”

            “Yes it has. Too quiet. I don’t like not hearing the birds, Legolas.”

            “I know, it is unsettling, isn’t it? Legolas, who was normally so in tune to their surroundings, seemed just as disturbed by the lack of sound as Merry. Even more so, perhaps, because he was so sensitive. Legolas sighed. “Go on and get some rest, Merry. We continue again by nightfall.”

            Merry nodded, and rose to make his way to his bedroll. As Legolas took his place, Merry paused at the top of the path, thinking of something he had been wondering for days, and may not get the chance to ask again. “Legolas?”

            “Yes, Merry?”

            “I…” he hesitated, almost afraid now to ask.

            Legolas turned smiled encouragingly at him, curious as to what this young Hobbit could possible be so hesitant to ask him. “Go on.”

            Merry took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. “I just wanted to know, why are you here? I mean, what do you hope to do on this quest?”

            “I hope to help save Middle Earth and my home, in whatever small way I can.” Legolas turned back to gaze at the empty horizon. “As for why I’m here, I’m here for pretty blue eyes,” he continued softly.

            Puzzled, Merry waited for him to say more, but when he did not, the Hobbit just shook his head and returned to camp, leaving the elven prince to his quiet watch.

Pretty Blue Eyes

Chapter 3

Moria: How do you keep going?

            “How much farther have we to go, Gandalf?”

            “I am not entirely sure, Legolas. Three days, perhaps more, depending on whether or not we follow the correct passage,” the wizard replied. The Elf nodded tersely.

            Gandalf looked sideways at his tense companion. “Have no fear, my friend; I shall get you out of this oppressive place as quickly as I can.”

            Legolas lips twitched in a small smile. “I doubt it not, Mithrandir.”

            Gandalf sighed. He could not sleep. The choice of which of three passages to take was plaguing him, refusing to be ignored. Now there was fear of discovery thanks to that reckless Took and his stone. At last, Gandalf gave up and went to relieve Pippin of his watch after only an hour.

            Legolas watched him go, as unable to sleep as Gandalf, but for different reasons. The dark closeness and weight of stone above his head greatly unsettled him, and he was worried about Pippin as well. He studied his small friend for a moment. Pip lay curled up in a corner, huddled into his blanket despite the oppressive heat, as if he were trying to hide. The poor Hobbit looked so miserable; Legolas’s heart went out to him. The Elf rose and made his way to the corner. “Hello, Pippin,” he said softly. Pippin glanced up in surprise. “You appear a bit lonely. Would you like some company?” Legolas asked with a kind smile. Pippin nodded, and the Elf settled down next to him.

            “Legolas?”

            “Yes, Pippin?”

            “Is Gandalf still angry with me?”

            Legolas watched the Wizard for a moment. “No, I don’t think so, Pip,” he said slowly. “But he is worried. He is unsure of where he is, and what you did with the stone may have alerted someone, or something, to our presence here. He wants to get us out of here before anything finds us.”

            “He’ll think of something. He always does, doesn’t he?” Pippin asked, looking up at Legolas, big green eyes seeking reassurance.

            Legolas smiled and slipped an arm around him, and Pippin nestled close to his side. “Indeed he does, Pippin. Feel better?” Pippin nodded and snuggled closer still, relaxing against his friend. The odd-looking pair was silent for a while, listening to the deep silence that brooded all around them.

            After a few moments, Pippin spoke. “Legolas? Can I ask you something?”

            Legolas chuckled inwardly. Save during sleep, this little one never stopped asking questions. “Of course, my friend. What is it?” He looked down into the constantly curious eyes.

            “How do you keep going? You didn’t want to come here in the first place. It’s obvious you do not like it down here at all. You’re much more at home up in the sunshine and trees. What keeps you going when it is so dark?”

            The Elf paused a moment before answering. “Well, I know that we will get out of here eventually; we have only one choice of which way to go. Turning back is not an option; the door is blocked, and I would not leave you or Frodo or any of the others to finish this quest on your own.” Legolas sighed, rested his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. “And when I feel as if I cannot continue another moment, I see those pretty blue eyes before me, and I keep going a little longer,” he said quietly.

            Pippin suppressed a huge yawn, and blinked wearily up at his friend, hoping for an explanation. However, before he could ask for one, Legolas began singing softly, and Pippin soon fell fast asleep, curled up in the protection of Legolas’s arms.  

Review Responses:

Larner: Thank you. J It’s good to be back. I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long for the answer.

Nieriel Raina: Thank you. I’ve learned a great deal about being true to Tolkein’s originals by reading a lot of other people’s work (especially Shirebound). It’s good to know my efforts are paying off! J

Shyler: Wow! I posted it so long ago I wasn’t sure anyone would remember it. I promise to actually finish it this time. J

Agape4Gondor: Hmm…I sense an idea for a series coming on…lol. J

Pretty Blue Eyes

Chapter 4

Lothlórien: What keeps you here?

            “What are you waiting for, Sam? They will be back. It’s not as if they can get into any trouble here,” Frodo said, watching him pace near the fountain.

            “Well, Legolas wouldn’t, but Gimli might,” Merry mumbled around his pillow.

            Aragorn chuckled. “I don’t think we’re in danger of that anymore, Merry. Our Dwarf has behaved very differently since meeting the Lord and Lady.” He set his pipe aside and stretched. “What is troubling you, Sam?”

            Sam shrugged. “I was hoping for a bit of song is all,” he said.

            “Song!” Pippin cried from his place next to Merry. “You can’t mean for Gimli to sing, surely? His voice sounds like rocks.”

            “Rocks?” Frodo asked, incredulous. “His song at the Mirror-mere sounded fine to me.”

            “You were standing right next to him and could understand the words, Frodo. From farther away it sounded like a rockslide. I bet it comes from spending too much time in mines,” Pippin said seriously.

            Frodo caught the twinkle in his cousin’s eye and threw a pillow at him. “You crazy Took! Rocks indeed.”

            Pippin ducked and the pillow sailed over his head to smack Merry squarely on the nose as he sat up. “Hey!” Merry cried, slinging the pillow at Frodo, who dove for his couch. The projectile flew past him and hit Sam in the back of the head. Sam’s answering throw connected with Pippin’s shoulder, and a fierce pillow fight was under way. Aragorn sat back and watched, laughing as the four Hobbits pounced on each other with enthusiasm.

            “Pippin certainly has a knack for distracting his friends from their problems, doesn’t he?” Boromir chuckled from where he leaned against a tree trunk.

            “Indeed he does.”

            A particularly good swipe from Sam took Pippin’s feet right out from under him. “I was hoping to hear one of Legolas’s songs,” he said.

            “My dear Sam, we have been surrounded by singing Elves all day. Have you not had enough?” Frodo aimed a pillow at Merry, who caught it and sent it flying at Sam.

            Sam ducked, and the pillow landed in Aragorn’s lap. “No,” Sam replied. “I could never get tired of it. But we haven’t heard Legolas sing since we rested by Nimrodel; that was days ago, and I miss his songs.”

            “Then a song you shall have, Sam,” Legolas said, appearing at the entrance, Gimli beside him and amusement in his fair face. The sudden return of their companions effectively ended the pillow fight, though not before the missile in Aragorn’s hands connected with the side of Pippin’s head, sending the unwary Hobbit sprawling on his couch and everyone else into a fit of laughter.

            At the sound of Gimli’s gravely voice, Pippin popped up and looked at Frodo. “See? Rocks,” he said simply. Frodo groaned, and Merry smothered Pip with another pillow.

            The late-arriving pair sent Aragorn a puzzled look. “Don’t ask,” he said, shaking his head ruefully.

            As the Company settled down, Legolas found a perch atop the root of a Malorn tree. “You’re not staying with us tonight?” Sam asked.

            Legolas smiled kindly at Sam’s disappointed face. “No, Sam. I have sorely missed sleeping in the treetops, so I have accepted a friend’s invitation to rest in his flet while we are here. I will not be far away, should you need me,” he promised. This reassured Sam, and he snuggled into his blankets as Legolas began a song of the glory of the Elven realms that disappeared long ago, and the beauty of those that remained.

            By the time the last words faded away, three Hobbits were sleeping soundly, and one was well on his way there. However, Sam had a question. “Do you miss your family, Legolas?”

            “Very much, Sam,” he sighed.

             “Is something wrong, Legolas?”

            Legolas smiled sadly. “I fear for them, Sam. I can sense the evil that grows with each day; and I fear it grows too close to Mirkwood.”

            Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. Save for the Balrog, he had not seen Legolas afraid of anything. “Then why don’t you go to them? What is keeping you here?” he asked.

            Aragorn, Gimli, and Boromir looked up, watching their friend closely. Legolas sighed. “The very question the Lady asked me,” he said softly. “To return home; to see her pretty blue eyes sparkling; to hear her laughing at me; to hold her again. Or to follow Frodo into the darkness, and an uncertain end.” Legolas looked northward, his eyes seeing an altogether different wood than the one they sheltered in. “No, there is too much at stake. They are safest where they are. I can better help them by ensuring Frodo has the best chance possible.”

            “Her?” Sam tried to ask around a huge yawn. The Men and the Dwarf shared a look. They knew to whom the Elf was referring, but if Legolas did not wish to explain, then neither would they. Sam gave up trying to stay awake and fell asleep at last, dreaming of gleaming golden woods, and fair faces with blue eyes.

            Silence filled the pavilion as three pairs of intense eyes observed their Elven friend. “Legolas?” Gimli called softly. The Elf blinked and shook himself. “I am sorry, my friends,” he said, lightly springing to the ground. He smiled at the questions in their eyes. “I am all right. Get some rest, I will return in the morning,” he slipped out of the pavilion and vanished amongst the trees. The three friends slid onto their couches and were soon sleeping deeply.

AN: I am sorry it took so long to update. The original chapter gave me such a headache trying to revise it that I eventually scrapped it and wrote an entirely new one, which itself went through a couple of revisions. Plus, I only have internet at work, which means I cannot update on weekends (bad for updates, great for the writing, lol J ). Therefore, I apologize for the unusual delay.

            Also, to answer those wondering if every member of the fellowship will be asking Legolas “the question”, the answer is: no. I am going off of the assumption that Gandalf and Aragorn, having known Legolas well before the Quest, already know who it is. Boromir and Gimli would have learned it during the Quest, one sometime before Lorien, the other at Lorien, respectively. In fact, the next chapter shall reveal the mystery. J Hang in there!

Review Responses:

Shyler: *Big Grin* The mystery will be solved in the next chapter.

Larner: I know, but at least he gets some cuddling at the end!

Lynn H: The link to fanfic.net is: fanfiction.net/u/174073/Little_Mouse. Though I warn you, my other work there is sorely in need of updating and completion. I’ve had quite the hiatus, so some serious revision is in my near future, lol.

Chapter 5

Pretty Blue Eyes

Gondor: F.A. 76, S. R. 21497

            A gentle breeze teased the curtains, carrying the scent of lilac into the chamber. A large, ornately carved bed dominated the small room; its lone occupant commanding the silent attention of those present.

            A small sigh escaped the aged lips, and a slender hand reached out to smooth curls from a deeply creased brow. Legolas turned to the woman beside him. “He is nearly spent. Go; find Aragorn and tell him it is time.” She nodded and slipped silently from the room.

            “Do you hear that, Merry? Strider’s coming. You have to stay with us just a little longer,” Pippin urged, taking his friend's hand and folding it between his own wrinkled fingers.

            “I’m not going anywhere yet, Pip,” came the weary reply. Merry’s brown eyes twinkled up at his cousin, and then turned to the Elf. “Now I understand what you meant, all those years ago,” he said.

            Legolas arched a delicate eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

            “Our conversation in Hollin. Do you remember? I asked why you were there; and you said something about ‘pretty blue eyes’?”

            “Ah, yes. I did not realize you heard me. If I had known you were that curious about it, I would have introduced you sooner.”

            “That’s alright. Will she go with you, when you sail? Frodo should meet her.”

            The Elf smiled. “I think she may, though that choice is yet some time away. So long as my friends linger here, so will I.”

            “Oh good. I would not have all my friends leave me before my reign is done,” said a voice from the doorway.

            “Nor would I let him go without me,” added a gruff voice.

            “Strider! Gimli!” Merry tried to sit up, but at 115 years old, his body no longer had the strength for it.

            Legolas quickly switched places with Aragorn. Older even than the Hobbit, the King of Gondor was yet a magnificent figure, though his hair had silvered and care traced deep lines in his face. “Easy, Merry. Just rest now, my friend. We are all here.” Aragorn placed a hand on Merry’s forehead, and the Hobbit relaxed back into his pillows, his eyes drifting shut.

            Pippin sighed. “He’s right you know, Legolas. Frodo really does need to meet her.”

            Legolas chuckled at Aragorn and Gimli’s puzzled faces. “Lissantiel.” He explained.

            “Ah.” Aragorn nodded.

            “If Frodo is still alive when we reach the Lonely Isle, Pippin, I will make certain they are introduced, I promise you,” Legolas vowed, one hand over his heart.

            “Good.” Pippin turned to look at his cousin and sighed again. The sound was so full of sorrow that Legolas moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. The Elf gently squeezed the old Hobbit’s shoulder.

            “What is troubling you, Master Hobbit? Can’t stand Merry leaving you behind?” Gimli asked with a teasing smile, settling himself in the chair opposite Aragorn.

            Pippin’s eyes welled with tears, and he blinked furiously to keep them at bay. “It’s not that. I know it won’t be long before I follow him. But, before too long, we all will go to a place Legolas and Gandalf can not come. Our Fellowship cannot ever be together again.” A tear escaped to trickle down his cheek, and Legolas gathered Pippin close.

            “Of course it can, you silly Took,” Merry said softly. “You know that.” The fragileness of his voice alarmed Aragorn, who exchanged a glance with Legolas.

            “He’s right. At the end of all things, when the world is broken and made new, we will be together. In the meantime, we must wait, and hope,” said the Elf.

            Pippin sniffed and offered a wavy smile. “I’d rather just go with you now, Merry, and avoid the waiting altogether.”

            “I know, Pip, but you have to stay here and keep these three out of trouble for a little while yet.” Merry smiled. “I’ll be waiting for you, don’t worry. Legolas? Will you sing for us? I’m in need of ‘a bit of song’ as Sam used to say.”

            “Of course, Merry.” Th Elf's voice filled the chamber, singing of joyful reunion at world’s end. But before he could finish, the Fellowship in Middle Earth was minus one more member.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tol Erreseä: F.A. 120, S.R. 1541

            A gentle breeze carried the sharp scent of sea salt to two ancient Hobbits waiting on a wooden pier. The wind that played with Frodo’s curls filled the sails just appearing on the horizon, speeding the grey ship towards them.

            “Do you think they have changed a great deal?” Frodo asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

            “Changed? Not likely. Well, not much anyway,” Same chuckled. “Gimli will certainly have aged, but I am sure their usual banter is no different.”

            Frodo grinned. “I’ve missed them so much, Sam. I want to hear everything they’ve been up to!”

            A deeper chuckle directly behind them startled the friends. “Doubtless they have plenty of tales to tell.”

            “Gandalf!” Frodo cried. “Have you come to wait with us?”

            The Wizard nodded. “I have plenty of questions myself, and have missed them, the same as you.”

            The Hobbits grinned at him, and they fell into a companionable silence, watching the waves bear their friends ever closer.

            The day drew on, and hundreds of Elves soon gathered behind them. The arrival of any ship from Middle Earth was an exciting event, but the three on the pier were respectfully left alone to be the first to greet it.

            As the ship drew nearer, Frodo and Sam began to make out the faces of those on board. Sam shook his head. “Gimli has gone as grey as we have!” he quipped.

            Frodo laughed and waved at the Dwarf, who raised a hand in greeting. “Sam, who is the woman standing beside Gimli?” Frodo asked, a puzzled frown appearing on his face.

            Sam squinted. “Not sure, sir,” he said. A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth threatened to give him away. “Gandalf?”

            The Wizard shook his head. “We’ll find out soon enough,” he said. Sensing they weren’t telling him something, Frodo frowned at them, but this was a meeting neither Gandalf nor Sam was willing to spoil.

            Shortly thereafter, the ship pulled alongside the pier, and Legolas tossed Gandalf the ropes to hold it fast to the pillars. The sparkle was back in Frodo’s eyes, and he could barely contain himself as a ramp was lowered. At last the Hobbits moved forward to greet first Gimli, then Legolas. After much laughter and many hugs, Legolas turned and beckoned to the two dark haired women waiting patiently behind him. "Frodo, I’d like you to meet my wife, Vanlótë.”

            A slender Elf with deep brown eyes stepped forward, and Frodo bowed. She knelt to give him a hug. “It is an honor to meet you,” she said, giving him a brilliant smile.

            Frodo smiled back. “The honor is mine.”

            “And this is Lissantiel, our daughter,” Legolas said, drawing forward the woman they had glimpsed at the rail.

            “I am pleased to meet you at last, Frodo Baggins,” she said softly, kneeling to greet him.

            When he looked back on their meeting, Frodo knew he really should not have been surprised, but he could not stop the gasp that escaped him then. For Lissantiel had the kindest, prettiest blue eyes Frodo had ever seen, even for an Elf.

The End

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Author’s Note

My sincerest apologizes to all those who have waited months to know the end of this story. Dozens of events conspired to keep me from completing it, not least of which was my own dissatisfaction with the various drafts for the ending. Here it is at last. Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement, and for sticking it out with me. I hope you enjoyed it, and that it wasn’t too predictable. ;) A note on the names I had to create: I’m really not good with the Elvish, so what I came up with was cobbled together from a list of words in a book on the languages Tolkein invented.  So forgive me if I somehow committed a grievous error in making them up. Instruction in that area is always welcome. Vanlótë: fair  blossom     Lissantiel: sweet-mouth

Review response:

Larner: Closer indeed. Now you have your answer. I enjoyed writing that pillow fight. They needed a bit of fun. J I hope you enjoyed it.