Legolas could barely keep his thoughts straight as he folded clothes and traveling supplies to pack for the journey home. What he had heard at Elrond's council that morning had shaken him. Even though Mithrandir seemed to have forgiven the Wood-elves their loss of Gollum, it appeared that far worse calamities loomed in the near future. Legolas had been stunned to hear both that the One Ring had been found, and that the muttering wretch he had helped to guard was bound up with it. Now he understood why the dark power that inhabited Dol Guldur had thought Gollum important enough to send a force of Orcs after him, and why his friends and comrades had died defending their home.

At that thought, Legolas let his tinderbox slip from his nerveless fingers onto the bed. A great war was coming, and it looked unlikely that anyone would escape it. It was bad enough that twelve Elves had died in the summer's attack, but it seemed that they would not be the last. A sudden knot of terror twisted inside Legolas, and in that instant, he wanted nothing more than to be at his father's side to defend their home against the coming assault. That fear spurred him into action, and he hastily shoved his clothes and supplies into his pack. If he hurried, he could be well on his way with several hours of daylight left for travel.

A knock at the door drew him out of his planning. "Come in," he called. The door opened, and Mithrandir entered. Legolas's nervousness turned to anger, but he refrained from saying something rude. Instead, he gazed sullenly at the floor, refusing to meet Mithrandir's eyes.

"You did well at the Council," Mithrandir said. "I had heard of the event prior to your arrival here, of course, but it was good that everyone heard it."

At this, Legolas's head snapped up. He balled his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. "You knew?" he spat. "You knew that Gollum had been taken from us before I arrived here?" He turned away from his old friend. "What am I saying? Of course you knew. This whole journey has been in vain. What else did you neglect to tell us? You knew that the Enemy was searching for Gollum?"

Mithrandir sighed. "I had my suspicions."

"Why did you not tell us?" Legolas cried. "We did as you asked. We treated Gollum with kindness; we permitted him to walk among the trees and take comfort from them. His guards were armed only enough to prevent him from running away. You did not tell us that Gollum's presence would attract a horde of attacking Orcs. Twelve of my comrades died that night because of what you did not tell us!" Legolas was shaking with fury now, and he tried desperately to bring himself under control.

A look of compassion flashed across Mithrandir's face, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am truly sorry for your losses, Legolas," he said. "It was never my intent that any of your folk should lose their lives."

"Then why did you not give us some warning of what you knew?"

"I am sorry," Mithrandir repeated. "I had hoped that Gollum would be so concealed in the forest with your folk that Sauron would not think to search for him there. And I did not tell your folk everything I suspected so that you could not give anything away under torture should the worst happen."

Legolas remembered Padathir, who had vanished without a trace, and shuddered at the thought of what might have become of him. "They gave up their lives, but your secret was safe."

"As I said, I did not intend for your care of Gollum to end in that manner. This is not the first mistake I have made, nor, I fear, will it be the last. I grieve for your losses."

Finally, Legolas raised his eyes to meet Mithrandir's. The wizard did indeed appear to be affected by the thought of the dead Elves. Legolas felt much of his anger drain away, and he sat heavily on the bed, his shoulders slumped.

"Are you quite finished?" Mithrandir asked. Legolas nodded. "I came to see you in part to thank you for your willingness to save the completion of your errand for the Council," Mithrandir went on. "I did not expect such a rebuke, but I suppose that I have earned it. I have also come to tell you that Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you in his library as soon as you are able to see him."

Legolas looked at his half-filled pack, then rose to his feet. "I can go to him now, if he wishes. There is not much left to pack, and I may still be on my way home today."

"We will see about that," Mithrandir said. Something about the tone of his voice struck Legolas as ominous, but he held his tongue as he followed Mithrandir out into the corridor.

Elrond was in the midst of writing out a message when Legolas and Mithrandir arrived, but he put the message to one side when he saw them. "Legolas," he said, "welcome. I am glad to see that you are still here. I feared that you had left already."

"I had planned to leave later today," Legolas said. "I am grateful for your hospitality, but my father must know what was revealed at your Council."

"I agree," Elrond said. "I am in the midst of dispatching messengers to distant parts to inform them of that which they must know and to seek news of the servants of the Enemy. I will not send the Ringbearer forth until I know which ways are being watched and which are not."

"Do you wish me to bear such a message to my father?" Legolas asked. "I can delay my departure until you have written it."

Elrond suddenly looked uncomfortable. His eyes met Mithrandir's, and a strange glance passed between them. Though not especially gifted with foresight, Legolas immediately became wary when he saw it. Elrond took a deep breath. "I had not intended for you to bear the message," he said. "I had intended to ask you to remain in Imladris for a while longer."

"I am honored," Legolas said carefully, "but I fear that I cannot accept such an invitation. The journey over the Misty Mountains is not an easy one in the best of circumstances, and from what I have heard, it will become more difficult the longer I tarry here. There is no need for you to waste a member of your household simply for a message when I must travel that route in any event."

"You are forgetting the return message," Elrond said. "One of my household can bear my message and any reply your father will make. But that is not the only reason that I would have you remain here. You have only just arrived, after all, and the journey here seems to have drained much of your strength. I would have you stay here and regain that strength before you set out."

"But the journey will grow no easier. And winter is coming. Crossing the mountains is difficult enough in autumn; I do not wish to attempt it alone in the winter."

Elrond's mouth quirked into an odd half-smile. "I do not intend to send you over the Misty Mountains alone," he said.

"And yet you would have me tarry here while you send others to bear a message to my father. I do not understand."

Mithrandir stepped forward. "You are not the only guest here whose journey leads over the Mountains," he said.

"The Dwarves?" Legolas asked. "You would have me escort them through the woods?" He did not especially care for the idea of spending so long in a company of Dwarves, but he supposed that their company would be better than none at all.

"The Ringbearer's journey will also take him into the Wild," Mithrandir said gently.

"Frodo cannot make his journey alone," Elrond said. "I said that I would send Sam along with him, but there must be a larger party. I had thought to include you in that group, Legolas."

For a moment, Legolas forgot how to breathe. "Why?" he choked out. "Why me? Glorfindel of Gondolin dwells here. You have no need for Thranduil's son."

"Do I not?" Elrond asked. "It is true that Glorfindel is one of the mightiest Elves in Middle-earth, but it is not might alone that will be required for this journey."

"What, then? What do you require of me?"

"You are well acquainted with a life of watchfulness," Elrond said. "Your eye is keen, and if Thranduil's folk are as I remember them, you are skilled in the use of the bow you carry. And you are strong and hardy, especially if you take time to rest here and recover from your exhaustion."

Legolas opened his mouth to respond to that when a horrible thought struck him. Perhaps he had been wrong, and Mithrandir had not forgiven the loss of Gollum after all. Perhaps this was the penance he wanted; Legolas would risk his life to pay for his people's failure. He glanced at Mithrandir, but the wizard's face remained impassive.

"My father needs me," Legolas said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

The lines of Elrond's face softened. "I am sure he does need you. It is not my intention to send you anywhere against your will. But know that, in this hour, I have as much need of you as does your father. I wish very much that you will agree to this."

"For Gollum," Legolas murmured.

"No," Mithrandir said gently. "This is no longer about Gollum. That is over and forgiven. If you would know, it was I who recommended to Elrond that you be chosen for this journey. You are strong and skilled with your weapons, but that description would fit any Elf in Imladris. You have an open and loving heart, Legolas; when I see you struggle past your shyness to befriend a guest in your halls or the most humble of Hobbits, I know that you have courage as well. I think that the Ringbearer will have as much need of your comfort as of your protection."

"You do not need to decide in this instant," Elrond said. "I will delay sending the messengers to Mirkwood until tomorrow, and if you decide against accompanying the Ringbearer, then I will honor your choice and send you home with them. But remember this. What is to come will not affect Mirkwood alone. It is possible that you may serve your home better by doing this than by returning there. The choice is yours to make."

"Thank you," Legolas said. "I will let you know my decision shortly." He bowed deeply to Elrond and Mithrandir and left the library.

The day was beautiful, the air crisp and cool. Legolas did not want to remain inside more than necessary, and he thought that the fresh air would help him think about his choice. He walked outside and made his way to a small grove of beech trees some distance from the House. Their brilliant autumn colors were fading, and their leaves were beginning to fall. Legolas sat down beneath the largest one and hugged his knees close to his chest.

He remembered Thranduil's parting words to him, an expression of love and a plea to come home again as soon as he was able. The journey seemed a desperate, foolish thing. It was far more likely that it would kill him than that it would succeed. And yet, a small, treacherous voice in the back of his mind pointed out that, if the Ringbearer's quest were not successful, nothing Legolas could do would save his home. And Elrond, renowned as one of the wisest people in the world, clearly thought that Legolas's presence was needed to ensure the Ringbearer's success.

Legolas thought about his grandmother. Every now and then, Thranduil would offer a bit of wisdom he had learned from his mother, who had faded long before Legolas was born. Sometimes Legolas wished that he had known his grandmother, for her words always seemed both wise and comforting at once. Thranduil had often spoken to Legolas about making choices, and he had passed on his mother's wisdom on the subject. "If you have been raised properly, your heart will know the right course of action before it beats ten times," she had said. "The difficulty lies in accepting what your heart tells you to do."

Legolas closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of thought so that he could hear the words of his heart. For a moment, there was silence in the grove and inside of him, and in that instant he knew what he would choose.

A moment later, the soft sound of feet crunching through the fallen leaves broke the stillness. Legolas opened his eyes and looked up to see one of the Hobbits, though he did not quite remember which one. The Hobbit jumped, startled as the Elf's gaze suddenly fixed on him.

"Oh! Beg pardon, Mr. Legolas, sir! I didn't mean to wake you. If I'd known you were sleeping, I'd have chosen another way."

"Sam?" Legolas guessed.

"Yes." Sam looked pleased that Legolas had remembered his name.

Legolas smiled a little. "You did not wake me, for I was not sleeping."

"Thinking, then? Old Mr. Bilbo used to do that. He'd stretch out in his garden back in the Shire and shut his eyes, but he wouldn't be sleeping. He said he was remembering his adventures and all the people he met on 'em. Are you remembering old adventures?"

"No. I am thinking about a new one." Sam looked puzzled, so Legolas elaborated. "Mithrandir -- you call him Gandalf, yes? I remember that Aragorn told me that. Gandalf and Lord Elrond have both expressed a desire for me to accompany the Ringbearer on his journey."

At this, Sam's face lit up. "Really? You'll come with us, then?"

"I do not know." Even as he said it, Legolas knew that that statement was rapidly becoming a lie. "Would it please you if I did?"

"Oh, yes! I hate to think of poor Mr. Frodo out there on his way to Mordor with no one but his Sam at his side. Gandalf said he'd come, too, but he . . . well, he's proved less than reliable lately. I'd feel a sight better if I knew Mr. Frodo had a mighty Elf warrior along to protect him."

Legolas laughed. "I must confess something to you. I am indeed an Elf, and I am a warrior when I must be, but I do not feel mighty at all. Lord Glorfindel is mighty. The prospect of marching into Mordor frightens me much more than I ought to admit."

At that, Sam suddenly looked stricken. "So you won't be coming with us after all?"

"I did not say that."

Sam was silent for a moment. He appeared to be pondering the wisdom of speaking his next thoughts aloud. "Well, beg pardon if I speak too strong, Mr. Legolas," he said at last, "but it seems that Lord Elrond's fixing to send at least one Elf along on this mad journey. Now, I'm not making out that I have a say in the matter, but if I had my druthers, I'd want to have you along with us."

This was a new thought, and Legolas considered it seriously. "Why me?" he asked. "You do not know me especially well. From what Aragorn has told me, you are more familiar with Lord Glorfindel."

"I don't know about that," Sam said. "It's true we met him before we met you, but I don't feel as though I really know him, if you take my meaning. Lord Glorfindel is great and glorious, but he seems awful far off, like a figure from a story of the olden days."

"There is good reason for that. He did valiant deeds in the Elder Days, of which songs are still sung."

"That's all well and good. But, meaning no disrespect, mind you, sometimes I think that Lord Glorfindel is too great and mighty for us Hobbits. Leastaways, I don't know about Mr. Frodo or the others, but I feel as small as a little mouse next to him."

"Do I not make you feel the same way?" Legolas asked. "Though I am not as tall as Lord Glorfindel, I am still much taller than you are."

Sam smiled. "You're sitting down," he pointed out. "Not all the Elves here would sit down to talk to a Hobbit."

Legolas had no answer to that. He recognized Sam's intimidation; Imladris seemed to have the same effect on him. "You seem fascinated by Elves," he remarked. "And I cannot deny that I am rather curious about Hobbits. I have not met very many. You would prefer my company to Glorfindel's, then?"

"If it comes down to that, yes," Sam said. "I don't want to make out as how I know anything about it, but I guess that you could fight as well as Lord Glorfindel in a pinch, and you'd be a fine companion to have around. For Mr. Frodo's peace of mind, of course," he added hastily.

Suddenly, it seemed as though a great burden had been lifted from Legolas's shoulders. The fear had not lessened, but there was no longer any doubt in his mind as to what he would do. He turned to look directly at Sam.

"Thank you," he said. "I know what I must do, but I am afraid to do it. Your words give me courage."

"I didn't know Elves were ever afraid," Sam said. "I mean, the idea of having you along with us makes me feel braver. I never thought that old Sam Gamgee could do the same for a prince of the Elves."

"You encourage me, and I encourage you," Legolas said. "That might make us good companions for such a journey." He sat back against the tree trunk and allowed its welcoming strength to pour into him, giving him the courage to state his choice aloud to Elrond.

As the sun began to set in a haze of soft pink and golden light, Legolas walked slowly through the corridors of Imladris in search of its Lord. With each step, a small part of him cried out that it was not too late to change his mind, to run to the stables, fetch his horse and set out for home that very instant. But he knew that, in the end, he could not do that. Thranduil had taught him always to do what was right, and he could no more betray his father's teaching than he could abandon those who, it seemed, had come to place their trust in him.

He found Elrond in a comfortable chair on a porch, similar to the one where the Council had been held, but smaller and more screened by trees and shrubs. He knocked gently at the open doorway that led to the porch. Elrond turned around and smiled when he saw Legolas.

"Welcome," he said. "Come outside. Do you wish to join me? It is a lovely evening, and I fear that I have been remiss as a host. I have not yet had the opportunity to ask you about how Mirkwood fares these days. You may sit beside me and tell me the news from your father's realm."

"Perhaps another time," Legolas said, moving to sit on his heels at Elrond's feet. His mouth went dry, and he took a deep breath.

"Another time?" Elrond asked. "Does this mean that you intend to accept my invitation to stay in Imladris for a while longer?"

Legolas nodded, a quick, convulsive motion. "I came to tell you that I have made my choice." He clenched his hands on his knees to keep them from shaking. "Send your messengers to Mirkwood tomorrow, Lord Elrond. I will accompany the Ringbearer, as you have asked." He closed his eyes and breathed in and out. He had spoken his choice, and he could not take back his words now.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Elrond was regarding him with an expression of mingled pleasure and concern. "Thank you, Legolas," he said gravely. "I am glad that you agree to do this willingly. I believe that your choice will greatly increase our chances of success, but I understand that it is a difficult thing for you. I do not wish to bind you against your will, so I will lay no obligation on you to make the entire journey. The first stage will take you over the Misty Mountains. You may continue to your home from there, should you so desire, and I would count your offer fulfilled."

"Thank you," Legolas said. "I will consider that." As he looked into Elrond's eyes, he saw that Elrond knew as well as he did that that statement was nothing more than polite fiction. Legolas had chosen to bind his fate to that of the Ringbearer, and he would not turn back on his word.

"Then I will send the messengers tomorrow at first light," Elrond said. "Is there anything else you would ask of me before I send them?"

"Yes," Legolas said. "Will you ask them to carry an extra message? I wish to write a letter to my father. He waits for me to come home, but. . . I will not," he finished lamely.

Elrond sighed. "I do not know if that is wise," he said. "This journey must remain secret, and I do not wish to risk having such a letter fall into unfriendly hands should the messenger be captured along the way. However," he added, seeing Legolas's stricken expression, "I am a father myself as well as a Lord. I have sent my own sons on perilous journeys, and I know how your father would treasure any message that you sent him. You may send your letter, but you must write it carefully. Say nothing directly about the purpose or destination of this quest, nothing that could betray the Ringbearer. I will ask to examine the letter when you have written it, and if I deem it safe, I will send it with the messengers tomorrow."

Legolas nodded. It was not enough, but it was more than he had hoped. "Thank you, Lord Elrond," he said. "By your leave, I will write my letter now."

"Erestor will give you pen, ink and paper," Elrond said. Legolas rose to his feet and bowed. Then he left the porch, already struggling to compose in his head what he feared would be his last farewell to his father.