Rebuilding Ithilien and lending his aid occupied him, for a while.  But, he was a warrior firstly, not a lord in need of sumptuous halls.  He needed neither golden harps nor, the silver gleam of mithril horns.  The grateful song of recovered trees, grass and earth were better than fingers and strings to him.  Legolas dearly missed his mortal friends to the west—dwarf, man and hobbit.  Time, it seemed, flew faster than Thorondor’s children and his dearest friends soon were greyed and stooped. The Gift of Man; they would find new quests—he could do naught but remember them.