Disclaimer: Own nothing of Lord of the Rings, any characters or descriptions. Own nothing of New Line Cinema or any affiliates. This is for writting and reading enjoyment purposes only.

A/N: Sorry it's late!This is not beta read.

Chapter 2

Many elves had come to witness the burial of the dwarf, but Legolas was oblivious to all but his friend’s grave and the stone casket that Gimli himself had carved.

He had lied to Legolas and had told him it was a box for his armor. Only after Gimli died did Lalaith find the note containing the burial rites of dwarves.

He stood as still as the stone covering his friend’s body was carefully laid into the ground. No movement marked his sorrow, but everyone could see that his grief was insurmountable. His face was composed, but his eyes gave him away.

The haunted expression told of memories of his other friend’s deaths and burials. Memories of the different traditions of burial rites, memories of wives crying, but knowing that they would soon join their husbands, memories of his friends dying, one by one and now he was truly the last of the Fellowship alive.

And he would be forever now.

His mind refused to register what people said to him or if they gave him an affectionate touch or a warm embrace, he was too numb to respond.

All he knew was that Gimli had left him.

After all the Elves had left, Thranduil gently shook his son’s shoulder. “Come Legolas, let’s go home.”

Legolas blinked as if waking suddenly. “Not yet.” He whispered so low that Thranduil had to bend down to catch the softly spoken words.

Legolas gently disengaged his arm from his Adar’s strong grip and walked heavily to the grave and sank to his knees. His fingers traced the runes declaring to all that Gimli, son of Gloin, friend of Legolas Thranduillion, one of the nine walkers would forever rest in the peace of Valinor, a safe heaven for elves.

Not bothering to wipe away the tears slowly trickling down his face, Legolas quietly began to lift his voice in a song telling of when they had first met. As his voice gently twisted the journey of two friends together, the wind quieted and even the sun seemed to dim in reverence of the elf’s pain.

He sang of when his friends died and how at last the two friends departed to the Valinor, then finally his voice choking, he sang of Gimli’s death and how he would celebrate his life.

Once finished, Thranduil could tell he was drained, emotionally and physically. Tears still ran freely down his son’s face even though his eyes were closed.

Quietly sinking beside his son, Thranduil reached out and pulled him into an embrace.

Though Legolas made no gesture that he was even aware of the embrace, the very fact that he slightly leaned into the embrace comforted his Adar.

“Come.” Thranduil said comfortingly. “Let’s go home.”

Legolas gave a small nod against his Adar’s shoulder, silently agreeing to leave. His legs, asleep after sitting on them for nearly two hours buckled underneath him when he tried to stand.

Without a single word, Thranduil swept Legolas up into his arm and carried him the few hundred yards back to their quarters.

It pained him to see his once proud, strong son lie unperturbed in his arms. Even when he had been a small child he protested against being carried unless absolutely necessary or extremely tired.

Even after he had been captured by the Easterlings and returned and had lain so helplessly for a while he had never let himself be carried without protesting.

But now, weakened emotionally and that wreaking havoc on his body he was also being weakened physically.

It seemed that his youngest son had not the will to live anymore and was letting himself slowly sink into a state where he could no longer be reached. His gaze was empty, often staring at a wall or into a distant memory.

For nearly a week everyone feared that the prince would die, but he clung to life as weak as a newborn babe. His most basic needs were taken care of by others. His hair washed and braided everyday by his Naneth. His body cleansed everyday by his Ada. He was often cradled by one of his brothers or sisters in law, lullabies gently sang to him.

No one knew what do to, and no one dared to try and force him from his grief. They all let him cry his tears of pain.

It was one the eighth day that Legolas suddenly blinked as if waking from a deep sleep.

“Ada?” He whispered.

“No.” His older brother replied. “It’s me, Thalion.”

Legolas blinked again. “Where is Ada?”

“He is in the sitting room talking with Lord Elrond.” Thalion replied. He was sitting in a near by chair, making no fuss over Legolas’ awakening, in fact he causally marked the page in the book he was reading. And then continued to speak.

“What about?” Legolas asked plaintively.

“You little Greenleaf.” Thalion smiled.

“Oh.” Legolas said simply. He smiled suddenly. “Thalion?”

“Hmmm?”

“I am not alone am I.”

It was not a question, but Thalion answered it anyway.

“No.” Thalion replied. “You are not.”

Legolas sighed. “I’m glad.” He said simply. “I don’t like being alone.”

A few more moments of silence reigned, and Thalion giving his youngest brother a comforting smile, returned to his book.

Legolas sighed. “Thalion?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will the pain ever fade?” The young prince asked quietly, staring up into the face of his older, but not oldest brother.

“You know.” Thalion made himself comfortable on the chair, marking the page once more and closing it with his finger in place. “I asked Adar that when Naneth departed.” He smiled wistfully. “I was heartbroken. Naneth and I were like you and Adar. We were a lot alike, so we knew how the other felt. But anyway, I asked Adar that question and this is what he told me.” Thalion leaned forward making sure that Legolas’ eyes were upon his.

“It is up to you to decide wither the pain will fade or not. As elves our memories span across time itself and they remain crystal clear, but we do have a choice on what memories to remember.” Thalion rubbed Legolas’ hand reassuringly. “Instead of remembering their deaths, remember their lives. Remember the first day you met Aragorn and your adventures together. Remember meeting the Fellowship and being joined together, no matter the race. Don’t remember their farewells, but remember their greetings.”

Legolas sighed Thalion’s words were almost exactly replica of their Naneth’s words to him. “What if my mind is filled with their deaths though?” He asked hollowly.

“Then.” Thalion leaned back. “You talk about them. Tell someone of their dreams they lived to see happen. Tell someone about what it felt like in Minas Tirith when Aragorn was crowned king. Tell someone what it felt like when you rode with the armies of Rohan and Gondor to the black gates leading to Mordor. Do not keep those memories inside of you.” He pleaded. “Tell them to the children so that they might also remember with you. Let them share your memories and thus keep your friends alive.”

Legolas listened quietly to the entreaty, making no gesture showing that he was taking the words to heart, but Thalion could easily see that his words made an impact upon his brother’s heart.

A few more moments of silence reigned. “I’ll go get Adar.” Thalion said finally. “He will be pleased to hear you have woken.”

He pressed a soothing hand upon Legolas’ shoulder, then quietly left, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Frowning, Legolas pushed himself up and leaned back, his back pressing against the wall for support. He was rather surprised to find himself so weak, but then again he had drifted away from reality for how long? A week? A month?

Leaning his head back, he stared up at the ceiling, watching the dust motes dance gaily in the bright sunlight. It was probably around mid-afternoon or later, he guessed.

The door softly creaked open.

Bringing his head up and around his eyes met those of his Adar’s. “Ada.” Legolas acknowledged with a small smile.

Thranduil swept Legolas into a heartfelt embrace. “Oh my little leaf.” He whispered into his youngest ear. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Wrapping his own arms around his Adar’s strong frame, Legolas sighed, letting the tension slowly ease from his own slight frame. How he loved being in his Adar’s arms. Here everything was all right in the world. There was no pain. No hurt. No sorrow.

He said nothing, content to stay comfortably in the warmth of the embrace. After a while, he pulled back.

“Ada.” He said solemnly.

“Yes?” The reply was equally as solemn.

“I will be leaving for a few weeks.” Legolas stated quietly.

Startled, Thranduil stared down at the upturned face.

“Please don’t ask me why either.” The young elf gave a wan smile. His gray-blue eyes met the ones above him.

Thranduil kept silent, wanting to ask, but knowing he would be better off holding it back. Instead he simply nodded. “When do you leave?” He asked quietly.

Legolas looked relieved. “On the morrow I think.” He said.

“Don’t you think you had better regain your strength first?” Thranduil asked, his lips quirking up amused.

Red stained the still white face. “Perhaps in a few days.” He said, with a slow smile.

The next two nights passed easily, no nightmares woke the young Prince from his slumber and life seemed to go on, except for the void that had been filled with Gimli’s laughter and jibs.

On the third day since his awakening, Legolas packed a few extra clothes, stored away some lembas and dried fruit, slung the pack around his shoulders, and with a farewell kiss to his parents set off.

He did not know where he was going, but all he knew was that he had to get away.

He took a deep breath and started forward, letting his love for adventure take him as it’s wont. He had not felt as he had in a very long time and it was a feeling met with a bitter sweetness. It was a feeling of wanting to disappear from the world, wanting to let the trees sooth away his pain as he grieved.

He had disappeared in Middle Earth when one of his friends had passed as well. Fleeing from civilization for a few weeks, not telling anyone where he would go, only taking some spare clothes, lemabs and dried fruit. He would always come back and no one the wiser that he had spent the last few weeks near the edge of fading.

Aragorn had guessed his inner turmoil and quietly conferring with his steward and wife, asked Gimli to keep an eye out for him. Only after Arwen had left did Gimli break his vow of silence and demand that Legolas take him along when he disappeared from the world.

Legolas had laughed through his tears, remembering all the times when the former ranger had always felt the need to protect him from whatever danger, Wither it be from attacking orcs or fading from grief, he always had kept an eye out for his elven friend.

But now, even Aragorn couldn’t help his friend. But since he was in the Valinor, he couldn’t fade from grief, but he would still have it in his heart.

He took a deep breath of the fresh air. He had traveled far this day, his long legs taking him wherever they chose to go. They had decided to take him to a large forest with mountains to the north and east of it, reminding him a lot of his birthplace in Middle Earth.

As he traveled through the great forest he felt a sense of calm steal over his soul. The trees whispered to him their reassurance and comfort to him as their leaves gently danced with the gentle breeze.

After a full day and night in the forest he left, heading towards the mountains. Though he had not told anyone, he had a single purpose on this trip. Not to grieve, he had already done that, but to find a spot to have a memorial of his friends back on Middle Earth and his mortal friends that had died in the Valinor.

He was looking for a spot that only he would know of the location. And the only place he could think of was a cave. Though he hated caves with a passion, that was the most secretive place he could think of. Now he had only to find one deep enough.

He spent the next two days searching along the mountains for a cave and finally found one of the close of the second day. Lighting a fire and making himself a torch that would burn for a long period of time, he entered the cave.

It was wet, as all caves seem to be. There was a dank, stale smell that made the elf wrinkle his nose, but continued to press on. He knew exactly what he was looking for and only hoped that this cave held it.

He wanted something like the Glittering Caves back on Middle Earth. The sight of the eerie glow far beneath the earth had taken his breath away. It had been a sight to behold and one that Gimli had loved.

Turning around a bend he stepped into a large cavern like the Glittering Caves but after searching around knew that this place was not the place and smothering his torch continued on in the complete darkness.

How far he went he did not know, as time was non-existent in a place such as this.

He could hear scratches of rodents as they scurried along the rock walls, and the ‘drip’ ‘drip’ of the water plopping down from the walls. Letting his keen senses take hold he pressed onward.

The black silence of the cave took him back to that day when Gimli had literally dragged him into the Glittering Cave. But this time the silence was worse, because the noise was not from Gimli walking confidently in front of him, but rather it was his own steps making small echo’s along the rocky path.

Catching his foot on a loose stone, Legolas tripped forward. Unable to catch himself he fell forward. His breath escaped him as his body slammed on the stone pathway. He groaned.

Then had to smile. “Gimli would be laughing about now.” He muttered to himself as he picked himself up, dusting off his clothes.

Looking upward, he suddenly saw a faint light. Curious, yet already half knowing what it was that he found he very carefully picked his way forward, his eyes never leaving the light.

It was almost hidden from view. The cavern walls were almost completely sealed shut save for a small opening near the ground. Crawling in, Legolas had to blink back tears as he accidentally hit his head on the small ‘doorway’. Ruefully rubbing his head he stood and stared.

Suddenly the magnificence of the Glittering Caves died away into a small non-descript cave. The cavern was huge. Easily three times the size of the Glittering cave and nearly three times as bright. It was if he had stepped into a patch of sunlight. The blue colors shone brightly, intermingling with both green and yellow.

His lips curved into a smile. This, this was the place where he would make his memorial. Pulling the pack from his shoulders he dug through the contents and pulled a hammer and chisel from the depths. He had carefully hidden both from any prying eyes.

Searching through the pockets he pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. He knew in his mind exactly what he wanted to do, but the paper was for a single sentence, a quote that Legolas had quickly jotted down after Aragorn had said it.

He sat on his heels and taking a deep breath closed his eyes, mentally preparing for the task ahead. It would be a long and arduous one. One that he would not be able to complete for several years and one that only he would ever be able to ever see.

Opening his eyes, he picked a huge chunk of rock sticking out along the wall and began to chip away.

“So where is Legolas now?” Elladan questioned.

Thalion graced then with a sad smile. “Legolas should be coming home tonight. It is his custom that every twenty years he will leave for a week or so and then come back. He told Adar that this time he would only be gone for one week, and he actually left a few hours before you arrived.”

Both twins digested the facts. “Has he found an Ellyth yet?” Elrohir asked suddenly.

Lomion shook his head. “He still considers all the ellyth’s his age to be silly and immature, but he did manage to find one. Her name was Kariean, however.”

He continued, holding a hand up to stop the oncoming questions.

“She happens to harbor a dislike of men and dwarves.” Lomion smiled grimly at the shocked faces before him. “She was born here in the Valinor and has only known the tales of treachery of both races, but does not realize that even our own race has such treachery within us.”

Lomion chuckled. “The look on Legolas’ face when she told him that was beyond words. He was furious. He told her off in a few short dwarvish words, which left little doubt to what he said. But then she ran off crying to her Adar, who also got upset that his precious daughter was crying and then ordered Legolas to apologize to her. Well Legolas doesn’t take kindly to being ordered around as you know, so he told her Adar off in a few short dwarvish words.”

Lomion grinned, enjoying the tale and knowing that the twins, Lord Elrond and Thalion were as well.

“So her Adar went to the High King, Finarfin and stated a complaint. King Finarfin summoned Legolas and asked him to repeat what had happened and what he had said.” Lomion shook his head. “I still can’t believe that Legolas actually said what he had said.”

“Did he translate the dwarvish?” Elladan asked a grin plastered all over his face.

Thalion laughed. “You bet he did!” He cried out. “He even repeated it twice to make sure that everyone heard it.”

“What did the king say?” Elrohir pressed.

“The king agreed with Legolas that all men and dwarves were not treacherous just as all elves are not treacherous. Then he ruled that Callar, Kariean’s Adar was wrong in coming to him for a trivial matter and had Callar apologize to Legolas.” Lomion laughed.

“And since then Legolas has looked upon the younger female population as silly, immature spoiled snots.” Thalion put in. “Poor Naneth.” He shook his head in mock sympathy. “She despairs of him ever finding a wife.”

The five elves laughed.

The door suddenly burst open, revealing a very ecstatic blonde elf. “Elladan! Elrohir!” He shouted in greeting, jumping over a couch to get to them.

There was confusion as the twins and Legolas collided into each other and gave each other a huge hug, pounding on each other’s backs as they did so.

“When did you get here?” Legolas asked his eyes alight with a passion that had not been there for a long time.

“A few hours before you left I guess.” Elladan replied, dragging the younger elf to sit down next to them on the couch.

“Oh.” Legolas blinking surprised. “Why didn’t someone come after me?” He demanded, turning towards his two older brothers.

Thalion laughed. “You can be so juvenile at times Legolas.” Then laughed again at Legolas’ glare directed towards him. “You didn’t exactly tell us where you were going.”

“Funny.” Legolas taunted, ignoring the pointed cough from his oldest brother to stop their bickering. “I thought you knew how to track.”

“Why you little...” Thalion half raised from his seat, indignation on his face.

“That’s enough.” Lomion grabbed the back on Thalion’s tunic and pulled down making him sit back down.

The twins watched with unveiled amusement and a small hint of sadness. They had often done the same thing when Legolas and Aragorn had erupted into a near fight. Elrohir would grab Legolas’ tunic and Elladan would grab Aragorn’s or vice versa if need be.

“When did you get back?” Elladan attempted to change the subject turning his attention towards the still grinning Legolas.

“About an hour ago.” He replied. “Ada didn’t tell me for a little while then I rushed over.” His words were a little mysterious, but no one in the room cared to press him. Not now. Not with that happy grin on his face and that light radiating from his eyes.

Legolas hesitated. “How is Middle Earth?” He asked carefully, even though everyone knew what he really wanted to ask.

Elrohir smiled. “Middle Earth lives on.” He replied quietly. “Eldarion’s great, great grandchild sits upon the throne of Gondor now. He has dark curly hair and gray eyes.” He answered Legolas’ unasked question.

“He had just recently got married and the last time we visited Minas Tirith, the White City was in the midst of celebration.” Elladan continued. “We were slightly surprised that the King asked that the ceremonies begin with the tale of The Fellowship of the Ring.”

He smiled gently at the young prince beside him. “You were the favorite of all the boys there.” He laughed softly. “They all wanted to be you, but there were a few that decided that the others in the fellowship were worthy enough of getting to ‘be’ them as well.”

He sobered. “Arwen’s grave is still at peace within the depths of Lothlorien. There have been a few mortals who have chosen to dwell among the leafy boughs and the trees have welcomed them.” He looked down for a moment. “Arwen is well protected.” He said softly.

“She is happy.” Legolas said suddenly. “For she is with her only love.” His countenance was saddened. “And that is the only place she could truly be happy.”

“And what of you Legolas?” Elrohir asked quietly. “What is the only place that you will be happy?”

The prince’s face twisted into a grimace, surprising the other elves. “There is no place in the Valinor or in the Halls of Mandos where I will ever be truly happy.” He said abruptly. “The only place I was truly happy was in Middle Earth, surrounded by both my friends and my family.” He shrugged. “But that will never happen.”

Thalion looked curiously at his youngest brother. “What do you mean? A place in the Halls of Mandos?” There was not a small hint of fear in the voice.

Legolas gave them all a mysterious smile, but would not say another word despite their questions.

A curious silence reigned for a while, each elf wondering what Legolas could possibly mean.

But since he would not reveal it, there was little they could say about it.