Chapter 16: First Steps

Legolas opened his eyes to find that all was dark as pitch.  The Fellowship seemed to have gone ahead with their plan to put out the fire, for it was cold beneath the shelter as well as dark.  Legolas drew a deep breath through his nose, taking refreshment in the simple act of breathing.  The temperature did not bother him; on the contrary, he luxuriated in it, rejoicing that he could feel the sensation of cold again.

It was very dark, even for an Elf, and he would be able to see nothing until his eyes adjusted to the gloom.  While he waited, he took note of the condition of his body.  Physically, he felt much better; his shoulder was no longer throbbing as it had done after his use of Aragorn’s bow, and the bone-deep weariness that had consumed him in his effort to survive had dissipated a little.  The only major discomfort he felt was the aching of his muscles, which were cramped and sore after remaining still for so long.  It certainly felt like he had been asleep for several hours at least, and if it was still dark, then he had likely slept through another full day.

Soft voices and a scraping noise drew Legolas’ attention.  His eyes were already better accustomed to the darkness, and he could see several of his companions silhouetted against the outside world.  Mithrandir was unmistakable with his bulky robes and long beard, and so was Gimli, who was not a great deal taller than the hobbits but fairly bristled with hair.  He could see both Men as well, and three hobbits.  The lot of them were clustered around a patch of ground, working on something at their feet.

“How much farther?” said Pippin’s voice.

“Not much,” said Aragorn, “but the deeper, the better.”  More scrapes sounded, followed by a soft clatter as something was scattered over the ground.  Gimli grunted as he hefted something weighty off the ground, which he set down again with a clack.

Ah, thought Legolas.  They are digging a firepit.

“It won’t be very big,” Merry said doubtfully.

“Just enough to warm your hands and feet by,” said Boromir in a bracing tone.   “That will be more than we have now.”

Legolas watched them while they worked.   Already he could see the buttons on Frodo’s jacket and the braids in Gimli’s beard.  He looked Merry over with a critical eye, but could discern no injuries other than the cut across his neck.  There was no doubt that he and Sam had acted in the nick of time; Garan had been very insistent, and had surely been on the brink of slitting Merry’s throat.

Merry and Pippin were very quiet as they worked.  Legolas suspected that their silence had more to do with their recent actions than a desire not to wake him.  They had a lost look about them that he knew all too well; he had seen it on the faces of many Elves and Men over the years.  The two of them had crossed a line although they had not gone as far across it as Sam had.  No one could draw blood for the first time without being changed by the experience.

Legolas knew that Sam was not in his blankets, for he had grown sharply attuned to the gardener’s presence over the last few days.  He cast his eyes this way and that, and at length saw two forms at the far end of the shelter.  One was Sam, who seemed to be huddled into himself in an effort to keep warm.  The other was the pony, which had settled himself on the ground with his head near Sam’s right side.  Now and then Sam would reach out to stroke Bill but neither moved nor spoke otherwise.

Legolas was not pleased to see that Sam was alone, Bill notwithstanding.  He had no idea how much Sam had told the rest of the Fellowship about his time with the Men, but he had a feeling that he hadn’t told them everything.  Sam had a hunted look in his eyes that made him seem as if he had something to hide.  If he had kept the worst to himself, then it was surely eating him up inside.  Legolas doubted if it made any difference to Sam that he had not dealt Jakov’s final blow.  From what he had learned while in the hobbits’ company, they were a peaceful people to whom violence was foreign.

At length Aragorn proclaimed that the pit was deep enough, and the Fellowship built a small fire within it.  As they shifted around, Legolas could see that Gimli had built a small wall of stones around only half of the edge, like a crescent moon, doubtless to prevent light from escaping from beneath the shelter.  Everyone settled themselves around the new blaze with the exception of Boromir who volunteered to stand watch.  The hobbits stretched their hands out over the wamth, and though they seemed glad of the heat, they did not appear to be much cheered by it.

It was time, thought Legolas, to rise and join the rest of the group.  He was anxious to hear how Sam was faring though he thought he already knew, and the others surely wanted to speak to him – but first, he wanted a word with Aragorn.  He did not care if the others heard, but he had questions for his friend and he wanted to ask them without being interrupted.

Legolas pushed himself into a seated position, taking care to use his right arm.  As he had expected the others immediately noticed his movement and paused to watch him.  “Aragorn,” he said softly, and the Ranger swiftly made his way to his side.  The rest of the company cast speculative glances at each other.

“At last!” said Aragorn, folding his legs up beneath him.  “We have been wondering when you would wake up.  How do you feel?”

“Much better.  The wound must be healing well; it troubles me but a little.”  Legolas paused for a moment to study Aragorn, and was not surprised to see a look of frustration on the Man’s face when he hesitated.  “I suppose you would like to take a look at it,” he continued, taking pity on him.

“I know how you dislike being poked and prodded.  Besides, I do not think that you would be so cruel as to deceive me – at least, not where your injury is concerned.”

“You are our healer, so you will not be truly at ease until you have seen the evidence for yourself.  Go ahead.”

Aragorn cracked a smile.  “You were never planning to deny me this.”

“No, but it was fun to watch you squirm a little.”

“You must be feeling better if you are in the mood for a jest,” said Aragorn as he began unwrapping the bandage.

“You would be too if you had been lying on your face for as long as I have.  How long have I been asleep?”

“All this day.  Despite your actions last night, some of the others have been concerned.  Gandalf and I have been assuring them that you would continue to improve.  Truthfully, I was still a bit worried about you myself until last night.”

“You know the Elves better than that,” Legolas chastised gently.

“Perhaps, but sometimes my heart speaks louder than my head.  If you had seen what you looked like when we brought you back from the river, you would not be so sanguine.”

“Was it you who found me, then?”

“Gimli and I pulled you out.  I could not have managed it without his help; you were not very close to the shore, and the current was strong.”

“I see,” Legolas murmured, uncertain of how he felt upon hearing this.  He was surprised, but not overly so; after all, he would not have hesitated to help rescue the Dwarf had their positions been reversed.  Legolas was indebted to many people now, and Gimli was one of them.  It was not even a new debt; the Dwarf had helped to try and pull him out of the flash flood.  What was more, Legolas had noticed something during his captivity that had been quietly nagging at him, and he had come to the conclusion that Gimli deserved an apology for one particular insult that had been dealt him.  Legolas did not like the idea that something he had done was akin to any of Garan’s actions, no matter how minor.  Besides, he did not want to lose Sam’s respect.  It had been far too dearly bought.

Suddenly, Legolas felt a prickling between his shoulderblades that had nothing to do with Aragorn’s cold fingers on his skin.  The rest of the Fellowship could have no difficulty following their conversation; it was quiet beneath the overhang, and their voices carried although they were not speaking loudly.  Legolas could feel Gimli watching him, waiting for any further reaction on his part.  Well, he thought, it could be worse; at least he has a sense of honor, even if it does not extend to keeping a civil tongue with me.  Aloud he said, “I am indebted to you both.”

Gimli grunted softly, and for a moment Legolas wondered if the Dwarf was going to throw his gratitude back in his face.  Then he realized what he was thinking and reproached himself.  He could hardly be happy about being obligated to someone that he simply did not like, but Gimli had helped rescue him.  Had he not just promised himself that he would apologize for past wrongs?  Thinking uncharitable thoughts about Gimli now would prevent him from feeling the weight of the obligation. 

“There are no debts between us,” said Aragorn.  “But still, you have given me such a fright that I will not soon forgive you.”

“I am sorry,” said Legolas.  “I had not planned on things turning out in such a way.  The truth is that I expected them to be much worse.”

Aragorn chuckled at this.  Glancing sideways, Legolas saw Frodo, Merry, and Pippin watching them with great confusion.  Boromir and Gimli, however, seemed to find his comment amusing as well.  Of course; hobbits would not be used to the sort of black humor that soldiers so often enjoyed after finding that they had skirted death once again.

Aragorn pulled the folded linen away at last.  “There is still some bleeding,” said the Man, “but you are right – you are healing very well.  The change is not so dramatic this time, but the puncture is smaller.”

“What was that, Strider?” said Pippin’s bold voice.  To Legolas’ ears, he sounded annoyed.

“Legolas is mending well,” Aragorn repeated.

“That’s good.  Is he well enough to talk to everybody?  We would very much like to speak with him, too.”

“There is nothing wrong with my tongue,” said Legolas, making Gimli’s eyes glint mischievously.  Legolas ignored him just as he ignored Aragorn’s tense face as he got to his knees and stood up, taking the fur-lined cloak with him.  He was not able to straighten his back on account of the low ceiling, but it felt good to stretch his legs.  He would have liked to stand longer, but the others were watching him with such expectant faces that he only walked far enough to join them and sat down again.  A drop of something thick and warm began sliding down the skin of his back as he lowered himself to the earth.

Aragorn tsked softly and settled himself at Legolas’ left side.  “Your use of my bow has surely delayed your recovery,” he said as he began replacing the bandage.

“I will take care not to use my left arm,” Legolas promised.

“And you promised to eat when you woke again,” Aragorn reminded him.  “Will you put that soup back on the fire, Pippin?”

“Hurry up with that bandage, Strider,” said Merry.  “It makes me cold just looking at someone with no shirt on.”

Pippin hung one of Sam’s smaller pots above the low flames and asked, “How is it that you’re not freezing?”

“I feel the chill, but I will be none the worse for being cold for a moment or two.  That I can feel it at all is a relief to me; perhaps my blood is beginning to thaw out.  And I do not want to get blood on this magnificent cloak.”  Legolas looked at Boromir.  “This can only be yours.”

“More than once I have wondered if it was too much of an extravagance for this journey,” said Boromir, “but such thoughts no longer trouble me.  I am glad that it has been useful.”

“Well, I thank you for the loan.  Its warmth has been welcome, as you may imagine.”

“We’re all very glad that you and Sam are back.  And alive,” Frodo said quietly.

“So am I,” sighed Legolas.  “It seems to be against all odds that we escaped.”  He looked over to where Sam sat, some distance away.  Lowering his voice he asked, “Why does Sam sit alone?  It is not safe what with Brund still roaming this river, and even if all the Men were dead, he should still not be by himself.  He is in great need of his friends, I think.”

“He won’t talk to any of us,” Merry said soberly.  “Not even Frodo.  If Sam were going to talk to anyone, it would be him.”

Frodo’s face was troubled.  “It’s true,” he said.  “I have tried coaxing him, but he only withdraws more and more each time.  And just tonight… well, I finally decided to leave him alone.  He didn’t ask me to go away – he’s far too polite – but I knew he wanted me to.”

“Perhaps I pushed him too hard yesterday,” said Mithrandir, “but I do not see how it could have been avoided.  I needed to learn all that I could from him.  Well, what’s done is done.  At least you do not need to worry about his safety; I set up a small warding around our camp.  Ordinarily I would not have done so – there is a risk, albeit small, that the enemy might detect it – but Sam seemed to greatly desire solitude, and we cannot leave him unguarded.”

“I’ve been hoping that he might talk to you, Legolas,” said Frodo.  “Whatever it is that he’s mulling over, it surely happened while you were together, and he seems to have grown so fond of you since we were separated.”

“I have grown very fond of Sam myself,” said Legolas.  “I did not appreciate the strength of hobbits in either mind or body until I saw how he endured.  You are very fortunate in your choice of companion, Frodo; his devotion to you is beyond question.”

“Sam would blush if he heard you saying those things,” said Frodo, “but on his behalf, I thank you.  He is perhaps the most selfless hobbit I ever met, and a most dear friend.  I fear that if he does not talk to you, he will talk to no one, and I cannot stand to see him in such misery.  Will you try?”

“I will,” Legolas promised, “though not at this moment.  If it is solitude that he wants, then let him have it for a while.  I expect that the rest of you have questions for me in the interim.”

“I have questions for you, that’s for sure,” said Pippin.

“Then speak,” said Legolas, wondering at the continuing firmness in the young hobbit’s tone.  It seemed unlike him to try to take the lead at the moment; Legolas had expected Mithrandir or Aragorn to do that, and Pippin surely had, too.

“My first question is not the most important,” said Pippin, “but I’m sure we all want to know – how did you manage to shoot those Men yesterday?  I’d have thought that drawing a bow would have caused you terrible pain.”

“That is easy enough to answer.  I drew with my right hand, which caused much less strain on my injury than drawing with my left would have.  I would not have cared to try drawing on the left; it might not have been possible.”

“You don’t mean to say that you can switch back and forth?” said Boromir, astonished.

Legolas could not help but be reminded of his conversation with Sam on the morning after their escape from the flood.  “Yes, I can shoot with either hand.  And it surprises me to hear that other folk do not have this skill – but I learned as much from Sam as we journeyed upriver.”

“Lucky for me,” Merry murmured.

“Which brings me to my second question,” said Pippin.  “I know that everything’s turned out all right so far, and I’m glad, but” – he raised his head and looked Legolas squarely in the eye – “why didn’t you shoot Garan first?  He might have cut Merry’s throat.  Or did you know something that I don’t?”

The source of Pippin’s inner fire became instantly clear to Legolas.  He looked between the three hobbits, noting how different their expressions were.  Frodo looked solemn and sad, while Merry was refusing to meet anyone’s eye.  As for Pippin, his face bore a tumult of emotions: fear, hope, and even anger.  Legolas knew that Pippin was not going to like his answer, and a part of him hated to disappoint him.  Yet it was not inconceivable that a similar situation might arise in the future – that the company would have to risk sacrificing one of its number in order to continue, or that one or more of them would die in pursuit of Mount Doom.  Besides, Pippin had petitioned to be allowed to join the Fellowship.  He might be underage in his land, but Elrond had selected him, and he had to face the hard truths just like the rest of them did.

“No,” Legolas said at last, “I am not privy to any secret information.  I did fear for Merry’s life.”

Pippin’s face fell.

“I could not see Garan through his cloak of darkness, but I could see his companions.  My plan was to shoot two of them before they had time to react, and I hoped that either Mithrandir or Merry himself would have the presence of mind to act before Garan did.  He lied to you about his men; of the three, only Daerid had his bow out, so I shot him first.”

“Seems like an awfully big risk to take,” Pippin muttered.  To Legolas’ surprise, the hobbit did not seem to be addressing him; he was glancing sideways at Mithrandir, of all people.

Mithrandir arched one eyebrow in mild affront and gave his pipe a stern puff.  “Why do you look at me like that, Peregrin?” he asked.

Pippin drew a deep breath and fixed his eyes upon the wizard.  He looked as if he were steeling himself for a particularly difficult task.  “I want to know something.  Would you have let Merry die?”

Merry looked down at his hands and Legolas’ eyebrows rose.  Pippin was a bold soul, but he was never so direct with Mithrandir.

Mithrandir took his pipestem out from between his teeth.  “You think I would have let Garan slay him not ten feet away from us?” he exclaimed.

“You could have crisped that awful Man to ash where he stood.  Why did you talk to him for so long?  He was about to kill Merry!”

“I was trying to bring Merry out of danger!” Mithrandir replied tersely.  “I could not see him any better than you could, but I had to assume that there really was a knife against his throat.  I’m sure you’ll agree that in such circumstances, one’s actions must be precise.”

“But you waited so long that Legolas and Sam had to act first!”

“I had no way of knowing that they were about to take a hand!  I was trying to convince Garan to show himself.  If I had been able to see him, I could have attacked him while safeguarding Merry at the same time!  I did have to remove that fog myself, in the end, but the rest of you finished him before I had to.”

“But why didn’t you just do that at the very beginning?”

“Because it required an extra step, Peregrin, and Garan might have been able to react in time to kill Merry before I could kill him!”  Mithrandir stuck his pipe back between his teeth and huffed irritably.  “You do not understand magic, and I cannot explain my every action.  To make the depth of my knowledge known to you would take longer than your lifetime, and that is time that neither one of us can afford to lose.”

Though Pippin’s face had gone pink, his jaw remained stubbornly clenched.  “Why shouldn’t I have thought that you might let Merry die?  You were willing to let him die, before.”

Legolas’ brow furrowed when he realized that Pippin was referring to him.  What did that mean?

“Pippin,” said Frodo, clearly in warning, but the young hobbit plunged ahead.

“Maybe it really would have endangered the Quest if you’d helped then, but how are the rest of us supposed to know that?  If we’re in trouble and you’re not going to be able to do anything about it, then I want to know so I can do something about it!”

“Pippin!” Frodo said sharply.

Instead of growing angry at Pippin’s brazenness, Mithrandir softened visibly.  “That was different.  Any action I took then might have gravely endangered our Quest, but it was not so with Merry.  I was prepared to fight Garan for him.”

“But why?” Pippin insisted.  “Why could you use magic last night, but not up on the cliffs?”  Frodo groaned aloud.

The blood drained from Legolas’ face.  What revelation was this?  When had the Fellowship been out of the gorge?  He swung his astonished eyes to Mithrandir, but the wizard was not looking at him.

“Over such a distance, and out in the open air with spies of the Enemy all around… my actions might certainly have been noticed,” said Mithrandir.  “That is as much as I can explain without delving too deeply into the matter.  I hope you will be satisfied with it.  It may sound cruel, but our responsibility is to ensure that Frodo reaches the summit of Mount Doom.  I will protect you all if I can, though not at Frodo’s expense.  But I told you before – you must not think that I do not care about the rest of you, for I do; I want all of us to reach the end of our journey safe and whole.”

“I do not understand,” Legolas stammered, and at last the others took note of his discomfiture.  “When were you up on the cliffs?”

The rest of the Fellowship exchanged uncertain glances.  “I was trying to stop you, Pippin,” Frodo sighed.  Pippin looked abashed.

“We hadn’t meant to tell you like this,” said Boromir.

“Tell me what?  How…?”

“We saw you jump off the cliffs,” Gimli said flatly, “and much of what happened before.”

Legolas blinked, wondering for a moment if he had heard incorrectly, but most of the others were looking at him with such sympathy that he knew he had not.  He hardly knew what to think.  The Fellowship must have been close – on the other side of the river – and he had never noticed.  And if they had seen the Men assaulting him, then they must have seen what Sam had done to put a stop to it.  “How much?” he managed to ask.

“I was the first to reach the top,” said Aragorn.  “I saw most of the Men crowded around Sam; one was bending over him.  I did not know it at the time, but I now believe it was Garan.  And then the trees began to move.”

“Yes.  What was that about?” said Merry.

“Wait,” said Legolas, holding up a hand.  “You were the first… to reach the top?”

“We saw your fire the night before,” said Pippin.  His face was still flushed, but his eyes dared the others to try and stop him.  “We’d been looking for you for days, but we didn’t know it was you until Strider saw you the next morning.”

“We followed you,” Frodo added.  “When we heard Sam start shouting, we found a way up to the top of the cliffs.”

“The way up was far easier on this side of the river than it was on yours,” said Aragorn, seeing the dumbfounded look on Legolas’ face.  “Sam told us of your climb, and it was nothing like that.”

“So he has told you what happened?” Legolas asked.

“Somewhat,” said Mithrandir.  “He kept a good deal back regarding… his own actions.”  Legolas did not need the wizard’s pointed look to know what he meant.

“He’s not a very good liar,” Pippin chimed in.

When Mithrandir spoke again, he did so very softly.  “Sam knows that we saw the jump, but not what happened before, so we must keep our voices down.”

Legolas was still stunned.  If the hobbits had seen all that….  Most of those killings had been messy.  Only Dorlic had really fought, albeit not very well.  Afterwards when Legolas had knelt and taken Sam by the shoulders, Sam had looked at him with such terror that for a moment he had feared the gardener might bolt.  Those were almost the first battle-killings that Sam had ever witnessed; Paet’s death back in the crevice had probably been the only other.  Why would Merry, Pippin and Frodo be any different?  Legolas had no reason to believe that they had ever seen anything like those four deaths atop the cliff before.

“It gave me no pleasure to sit by and watch, knowing what was about to happen,” said Mithrandir.  “I am sorry.”

“You know better than I what you could and could not do,” Legolas murmured absently.  “The Quest comes first, of course.”

A brief silence fell.  Legolas wondered if the others really believed that he understood, staring into space as he was.  He did understand, if in a detached way; he could not spare much thought for Mithrandir’s decision at the moment.  He felt nearly as dazed as he had been when Jakov had struck him in the head.  What would Sam make of this news?

“Please,” said Merry when no one else spoke, “can you tell us what happened with those trees?  Gandalf said you did it.”

The question brought Legolas back to the present.  “The trees,” he repeated.  “Why they behaved as they did, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“That they ‘behaved’ at all was my doing, though it was unintentional.”  Legolas looked around the little circle to find that nearly everyone was watching him avidly.  “When I realized what the Men were going to do to Sam and that I could do nothing to prevent it, I lost all hope.”  His chest tightened at the memory of Sam’s frantic pleas.  He doubted if he would ever forget that sound for as long as he lived, and if he survived the Quest, that could be a very long time.  “I suppose you saw that I was bound to a tree, so you know that I was not completely friendless, small comfort though it was to me at that moment.  I turned to them in my grief, having nowhere else to go.  And they… responded… in a most surprising way… to my despair.”  The hobbits gazed back at him in astonishment, and he tried to explain.  “The thoughts of trees run deep and slow; in my homeland they are more alert and easier to commune with, being accustomed to the presence of Elves.  I can only guess that these trees had encountered Elves before.  My need may have been great, but I do not think that would have been enough to stir them to self-destruction on my behalf.  These trees were more aware than most.”

“Rivendell is two weeks away!” exclaimed Pippin.

“Elves have been passing this way for a long, long time,” said Mithrandir.  “For many lives of trees, at any rate.”

“I certainly did not ask them to throw themselves upon the Men,” Legolas continued.  “They acted of their own volition, and it was unusual behavior for trees, even in my experience.  I am as grateful for their aid as I am for all of yours, and when this Quest is over, I will plant new saplings to honor them.”  He looked each of the others in the eye in turn – all save Mithrandir, who did not need to hear what he was about to say.  The Gray Wizard was welcome everywhere, even when he was unwelcome.  “You should know that you will all find open arms in Eryn Galen – in Mirkwood – should you ever pass that way, whether I am there or not.  So long as we dwell in Middle-earth, my family is at your service.”  As are all of the Elves of my home, he thought, though he did not say so.  When his father learned of what had happened, he would make certain that every Elf in Eryn Galen knew the names of these seven mortals.  He would even include Gimli when Legolas made it plain that the Dwarf had been instrumental in his salvation.

Reflexively, Legolas’ eyes swung to where Sam sat.  Sam probably had no idea, but he would be honored above even Aragorn and Gimli, who had pulled his body out of the river.  He could have any reward that he named, could make himself the richest hobbit in the Shire if he wished it – but Legolas knew him well enough by now to be sure that he would ask for no such thing.  He would never even think of asking, and Legolas loved him for it.

“Will you tell us your full tale?” Aragorn asked quietly.  “Sam was maddeningly vague on some points, though I think he told us the most important information long ago, when we brought you back from the river.”

“He told us that Men had taken you, and that one of them was a sorcerer,” Merry put in.  “And he told us that they were in Saruman’s employ.”

“He told you what they wanted with us, I am sure,” said Legolas.

“He did,” said Mithrandir, “and I relaxed considerably when I learned that Frodo’s burden was never directly mentioned by them, the tidings of the sorcerer notwithstanding.”

“But he says less and less every day,” Frodo reminded them.  “Now he limits his answers to ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ whenever possible.”

“I suppose you would like to hear the story from the beginning, since none of us here know what he did not tell you… save what you saw with your own eyes,” said Legolas.

“Mostly,” said Mithrandir.  “He was very clear on your escape from the river.  He also told us that you had found traces of the Men before being caught in the flood.”

Legolas sighed.  “My greatest regret is that I was not able to pass those findings on.  If I had known what was going to happen to us, I would certainly have told you, even if it was from the middle of the river.  I feared they might come upon you at unawares.”

“We saw them pass on the far side of the river.  Your side.”  Aragorn smiled slightly at the look on Legolas’ face.  “There is no need to worry; they never saw us.  In fact, I would wager they never knew we were here at all until you jumped from the cliff.”

Legolas’ mouth fell open.  For a moment he could not speak, but then he said, “That explains much.  Sam and I told the Men that we were traveling alone though they never really believed us, and when Garan found you, he made it plain that he thought we were dead.  I heard him say so before I fired my first shot.  I had been wondering why he went to such trouble to find two lifeless bodies – but if he saw you on the cliffs, then he was looking for you instead.”  He looked questioningly at Aragorn.  “Jus how many surprises do you have for me?”

“Not as many as Sam had for us, I’ll wager.”

“We shall see,” said Legolas.  “Well.  I suppose my tale begins before the flood came, when I first found traces of the Men.”

The Fellowship listened attentively while Legolas told his story, though they often interrupted him to ask questions.  It did seem that Sam had told them everything that was important, and he had apparently said plenty about what Legolas himself had done; the others already knew all about the escape from the flood and his climb up the cliffs.  Yet as Legolas went on, he realized that Mithrandir was right: Sam had glossed over most of his rough treatment at the Men’s hands.  Garan’s campaign of increasing Sam’s sufferings unfolded with the tale, and the group grew ever more somber as Legolas progressed.  Legolas did not offer too many details – if Sam was unwilling to share them, then he would honor that desire as far as he could – but the bare minimum was more than enough to stir the other hobbits to anger.

“How dare they!” Merry whispered after Legolas told them of Sam’s first beating.  His fists were clenched in anger, and Frodo looked even more wrathful, though his face was still as stone.  “So many against one – and him half their size!”

“I think they did it as much to demoralize me as to wear down his resistance,” Legolas admitted.  “Garan knew that I was very solicitious of him, but Sam was protective of me as well.  The Men underestimated him in more ways than one!  We only knew Saruman was the force behind them because Sam overheard them talking.  What Sam was wanted for was more than clear, but when he heard the Men speak of what Saruman wanted with me….  I had to explain it to him, but once he understood, he actually suggested that I escape without him if I could.  Not that I in particular would have been interesting to the White Wizard; I am sure that any Elf at all would do for him.”

“What did Saruman want with you?” Mithrandir asked sharply.

“Sam did not tell you this, either?”

“He started to, but then he shut up tighter than a mussel,” said Pippin.  “He thought you might not want us to know.”

Legolas hesitated, thinking, while the others waited.  Sam had clearly piqued their curiosity.  It was difficult for Legolas to even think of what his fate might have been, and if he spoke of it, he would have to explain to everyone save Aragorn and Mithrandir what it meant.  Few besides the Elves knew of the orcs’ dark origins, and the Elves had no desire to make them generally known.  Yet there was more at stake than his own comfort.  Mithrandir, at least, ought to know everything he could about Saruman’s plans.

When he had made up his mind, Legolas raised his eyes to the wizard’s and held them there.  It felt easier to speak of such things while focusing on only one face.  “I pressed Sam for every snatch of talk that he could remember.  He heard the Men say that Saruman was interested in orcs, and that he was seeking the capture of an Elf.”

There was a heavy pause.  “That does not necessarily mean what you think it means,” said Aragorn.

Legolas kept his eyes on Mithrandir.  “He went on to say that Saruman apparently thought he could ‘do something better than the Dark Lord could’.  Or so he heard the Men say.”

Silence.  Mithrandir frowned around his pipestem, and after several long moments he said, “That could be interpreted in a number of ways, but I can guess how you must have read it.  Well, if you are right, then this is interesting news indeed – but only as it pertains to Saruman’s arrogance, which is considerable.  He could not do what you feared, Legolas, not even with the… the item of power that he seeks.”

“I don’t understand,” said Pippin.

Mithrandir looked at Legolas, but when Legolas hesitated to continue, he turned back to the others and briefly explained the connection between Elves and orcs.  The ensuing shock and disbelief was predictable.

Boromir shook his head.  “I almost don’t believe you.”

“So there is a reason that Elves and orcs are mortal enemies,” said Gimli.

“The orcs are the work of Morgoth,” said Legolas, finding his tongue again.  “That would be reason enough by itself.  I pity the poor wretches who were destroyed to make them – but no more than those first few.  All that have come after, I would destroy if I could.”

“If you listen to what you are saying, you will realize that you are answering your own questions,” said Mithrandir.  “In the orcs, Morgoth created a new race.  Neither Sauron nor Saruman has the power to do this – not that that would have stopped Saruman from trying, of course.”

Legolas let out a breath that he had not realized he was holding.  He felt suddenly lighter, almost as if he could float right up off the ground.  Had these fears really weighed him down so?  He also felt strangely foolish.  Now that Mithrandir said so, it seemed obvious that none of the Maiar could duplicate Morgoth’s dark feats.  “I should have known,” he muttered.

“Hmph!” said Mithrandir.  “Why should you have known?  You are not Istari; you do not know our limits.  You would have been witless not to quaver at the prospect of being sold to Isengard.  Perhaps Saruman could not have done all that he desired, but his efforts would have destroyed you.  Is that not enough to fear?”

Legolas did not answer.  He was thinking of Dol Goldur, great black fortress and blight upon his homeland.  There was not an Elf in Eryn Galen that was not leery of it, for he who entered it was never seen again.  No one knew what befell them, but everyone knew what happened to Elves who ran afoul of orcs, and that was bad enough.  The work of Sauron’s higher lieutenants – and a wizard gone bad – could surely stretch even the most active imagination.  Yes, thought Legolas, Saruman was quite enough to fear by himself.

Legolas avoided responding to Mithrandir’s question, and when the others saw that he did not want to talk about it, they let the matter drop.  Thankful for this, Legolas went on with his tale and shortly came to the following afternoon, when he and Sam had managed to escape at last.  “I have no idea what passed between Sam and Garan, but Sam refused to indulge him,” he said proudly.  “And Garan was prepared to do much worse than use his fists this time.  That was when I finally despaired – when I saw what he was planning to do.  Luckily for us, the forest was stirred to wrath on our behalf.  But I have already told you this.”

“This is where Sam was at his vaguest,” said Mithrandir.  “We may have seen what happened, but we could not hear what was said.”

“In brief, Garan was infuriated by what happened,” said Legolas, “especially as one of his men was crushed and the dogs either ran or were killed, so he put me into Dorlic’s hands to do with as he pleased.  His only stipulation was that I be able to walk when it was all over.  Dorlic despised me from the start, so I was more than dismayed by this.”

“Why did he hate you?” asked Boromir.

“I know little of his reasons,” said Legolas, “but it was not long before I was certain that his hatred was of Elf-kind and not me in particular.  To him, one Elf was much the same as another, I deem.  The things he said to me!  Well, I will never know the origin of his hate now, but no matter; he is dead, and good riddance to him.  He was a blemish on your race,” he added to Aragorn and Boromir, “though he would be alive still if Sam had not acted.  But I am getting ahead of myself.  Garan left Dorlic and three others behind to avenge themselves upon me while he took the rest to search for the dogs.”

“I suppose he wanted the dogs to search for our scent, since he never believed your story,” said Gimli.

“That is precisely what I thought,” said Legolas, surprised to find himself in agreement with the Dwarf.  Such occurrences were rare.  “I think he expected Sam to crack that very afternoon, and that he was hoping to use the animals to find the rest of you.  I suppose his powers did not include locating a quarry he had never before encountered.”

“There weren’t any dogs with him last night,” said Pippin.

“Then he never found them, or could not compel them to return to him,” said Legolas.  “So much the better for us.  And leaving Sam and me with only four Men might seem like a mistake, but it would not have been had Hoddis not stopped watching Sam.  One moment there were three Men holding me down; the next, there were four.  It is clear to me that Hoddis did not properly secure Sam before joining his fellows.  If he had, Sam would never have been able to come to my aid.”

“He hit him,” Merry said tightly.

Legolas’ mouth thinned.

“Knocked him to the ground,” Merry continued.  “I suppose he thought that was enough.”

“He was wrong,” said Legolas.  “When I heard Jakov scream and felt the Men let go of me… you can imagine my shock.  They had nearly subdued me by then.  But it was just the opportunity that I needed, and once Sam had cut my bonds, I began to hope again.”  That was certainly an understatement; the wild anticipation he had felt when his hands had finally come apart had overwhelmed every other feeling.  “I was not at my best, not after taking such a drubbing, but some measure of good fortune was on our side.  The Men did not fight well; I think their surprise and anger overcame whatever blade skills they possessed.  It only grew easier to slay them as their numbers decreased.”

Legolas paused, remembering the last Man he had killed.  Ending Jakov’s life had been merciful as well as necessary.  Sam had dealt him a fatal wound, but he had done it in such as way as to prolong his death most painfully.  It was a pity, Legolas thought, that Jakov had chosen to follow Saruman.  He had been a strong Man – that he had remained conscious, crawling, spoke volumes – and might have done good things in the service of a nobler being, had he chosen to do so.

The company was quiet while Legolas sat musing, and it was he who broke the silence again.  “I suppose Garan and the others heard the commotion and came hurrying back.  When the four of them stepped out of the trees I was sure that it was the end for both of us, but Sam looked down, saw the pool below, and suggested that we jump.”

“Sam said that?” said Frodo, aghast.  “But he hates rivers and heights, and I know just how much.”

“Perhaps this casts his trials in a new light?” said Mithrandir.

“It does.”  Frodo still looked disbelieving.  “I simply can’t see Sam looking over a cliff that high and actually suggest jumping off it.”

“What other choices did we have?” said Legolas.  “I certainly did not intend to go back into Garan’s hands alive.  I would have tried to kill him if I had no other option, but the Men surely would have killed me first; I could not have dodged their arrows.  And I cannot say what action Sam would have taken; he may not know himself.”

“But weren’t you afraid?” said Merry.  “That was a horribly long way to fall.”

Legolas thought for a moment and said, “If you were to take me back to that spot right now and ask me to jump off, I would be fearful, but in that moment I was not afraid at all.  If we were dead either way, then it was better to die on our own terms than on Saruman’s, and we at least had a chance of escaping if we lived.”

“You might have had another option, though you didn’t know it,” said Pippin.  “Strider was going to shoot the Men.”

“Were you?” said Legolas, looking at Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded.  “The leader first.”

“I didn’t want him to,” said Mithrandir.  “It would have given our position away.”

“I gave it away, in the end,” sighed Frodo.  “After you jumped, I dislodged a rock, and it went clattering down the cliff.  And then the Men were shooting at us.”

“Would you have hit them, do you think?” Legolas asked Aragorn.

The Ranger quirked one eyebrow.  “I think you mean that as an honest question, and not an insult.  The truth is that I am not sure.  Over that distance, in all that wind… it would have been very chancy.  It is probably best that I didn’t try.  I might have hit you instead.”

“In danger from both sides,” said Legolas, smiling to show that he was joking.  “Well, the Men certainly fired enough arrows off, trying to hit us; I could see them streaking down into the water all around.  We did stay underwater for as long as we could, swimming, but we had to come up for breath in the end.  And that is when I was hit.”

“Sam was swimming?” Frodo said dubiously.

“Well, not right after the fall,” said Legolas.  “I think he was too shocked too try.  Being suddenly submerged in such water is enough to halt all thought.  I pulled him along until we came up again, but after the arrow struck home, it was Sam who did the work.  My memories from that point on are hazy, but I remember looking over to see Sam kicking his way along, dragging me with him by my cloak.  The current carried us, and I cannot say how much he was able to move me, but he kept himself afloat and us together.”

“And Sam does not know how to swim,” said Boromir.  “It is amazing what one can do when pushed to one’s limits, is it not?”

“With luck, we will not have to see too much more of that amazing behavior before this Quest ends,” Mithrandir said dryly.

“He lost you in the end, though,” said Pippin.  “He told us so.”

“I do not remember that happening, and I am grateful,” said Legolas, “but I am sure that it was a wrench for Sam to be separated so.”

“You don’t recall catching hold of the tree, where we found you?” asked Aragorn.

“A little, and only in flashes,” said Legolas.  “Waking up later that night was very confusing.  I did not know you at first, Aragorn; I thought you were Garan.  And how strange it was to discover that I was alive!  A full three times that day I thought I was lost only to find that hope remained after all.”

“If only you knew how difficult it was for us to hold out hope for you and Sam,” said Frodo.  “When we found his pack and your broken bow, it was hard to believe that you could still be alive.”

Legolas blinked in astonishment yet again.  “You have my bow?” he asked softly.  How very strange and unexpected these revelations all were!  He had thought his weapon lost forever.

“We kept the two halves,” said Aragorn, “but they will be of no value to you save sentimental, I fear.”

But Legolas only smiled broadly.  “Oh, the damage is certainly irreparable, but it will be pleasant to see it again all the same!  I have used it for so long that it is like an old friend.  Sam must have been glad to see that his pots and herbs had not been lost.”

“Very,” said Frodo.  “That is one of the few things to have given him any joy in these past few days, beyond being reunited with Bill – and you, of course.”

“Don’t forget yourself, Frodo,” said Boromir.  “Sam was most pleased to find that you were safe and well.”

“Sam is too good to me,” Frodo murmured, smiling softly.  “Sometimes he neglects himself for my sake.”

A sudden, rattling cough from Sam’s corner of the shelter drew everyone’s attention.  “How long has that been going on?” Legolas whispered, alarmed.  “He was already unwell before we jumped back into the river.”

“He says he’s starting to feel a little better,” said Gimli, “and I for one believe him.  That cough does not sound so deep as before.”

“His fever has subsided,” said Aragorn.  “He has been drinking what I give him without complaint, and he sleeps a good deal.”  He rose up on his knees and stirred the soup in the pot.  “This is hot now.  You must have some, Legolas, and Sam should as well.  Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Good!” said Aragorn.  “Yet another sign that you will soon be set to rights.”

“Let me take Sam’s portion to him,” said Legolas.  “I have finished my tale, more or less, and it would ease my heart to sit with him.  Perhaps the company will do him some good as well.”

“Will you try talking to him, then?” Frodo asked softly.

Legolas took a long look at Sam’s hunched shoulders before replying.  “Perhaps; perhaps not.  I would counsel patience, Frodo.  Sam is… not the same as he was.  He cannot be.  I will have a better idea of how he is faring when I have had a chance to be near him for a while.”

“There is nothing else I can do for him, I suppose,” Frodo sighed.

“Give him patience, time, and your friendship,” said Legolas.  “That is all anyone can ever do.”

“You sound like you’ve seen this kind of thing before,” said Merry.

“Many times,” Legolas said gravely.  “And I am certain that I am not the only one.”

The hobbits looked around at the bigger folk and found all of them – Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli and Mithrandir – looking back at them with sober expressions.  Most of them fixed their eyes on either Merry or Pippin, neither of whom could stand their knowing gazes for long.  “I suppose I know a little bit about how Sam feels,” Merry muttered.

“Me, too,” said Pippin.  “And I don’t much feel like talking about it yet.”

“I think you will, given a little time,” said Boromir.  “You won’t be able to simply put it out of your mind, for I’ll not stop teaching you.  You may need to use your blade-skills again.  Aragorn tells me that the both of you handled yourselves quite well with Garan, especially given the circumstances.”  Pippin blushed scarlet.

“You should talk of it, lads,” said Gimli.  “You may not think so now, but it will help.  I know; I have been there.”

“Be thankful that you even have time to recover from the shock,” said Boromir.  “Sometimes, the circumstances do not allow it.”

Sam sneezed, and Legolas turned to Aragorn.  “I think it is time that Sam had something hot to drink.”

“Indeed,” said Aragorn, and he locked arms with Legolas to help him to rise.

“Ah,” Legolas sighed once he had gained his feet.  “It does feel good to stand again.”

“Enjoy it,” said Mithrandir.  “You will be sitting again in a moment.”  He handed them each a tin cup full of steaming soup, and they turned away, but not before Legolas saw Frodo giving him an encouraging smile.

It was a short walk with bent backs to where Sam sat, still idly stroking Bill.  He looked up at them as they approached, and though he smiled upon seeing Legolas, he quickly looked away again when his eyes fell on Aragorn.  With Aragorn’s aid Legolas sat down on the ground next to him, not bothering to ask permission.  He didn’t think Sam would refuse to give it, but he didn’t want to take the chance.  It would not do to leave Sam alone and brooding for too long.

Legolas wordlessly handed his cup of soup to Sam, took the other from Aragorn, snugged Boromir’s cloak back around himself, and drew a long drink.  It was thin but the broth was rich and salty, and the bits of meat were tender.  It tasted wonderful.

Aragorn left without saying a word, and Sam and Legolas sat in silence for a long minute while Sam stared into the depths of his cup of soup.  Legolas could feel the hobbit’s tension; he was drawn into himself like a turtle in its shell.  Legolas remained quiet, waiting for Sam to open the door.

Bill suddenly whickered, startling both of them.  Feeling a bit amused by how easily he had been caught off his guard – by a pony – Legolas reached down to give Bill an affable pat.  The pony let out a contented puff through his nose.

“He missed you,” Sam said unexpectedly, and Legolas saw that he was smiling ever so slightly.  He glanced down into his soup again and finally took a sip.

“I am sure he missed you as well,” said Legolas, who was now scratching Bill behind one ear.  “He quite dotes upon you.”

“I spoil him.”

“How could you not, with those beautiful eyes looking at you?  And he is such a gentle beast; he is good temper itself.”  Legolas took another drink of soup.  “I do not remember broth ever tasting so marvelous.”

“It is good after all that hard bread and cheese,” Sam murmured.

“We have more of the same hard food to look forward to.”

“But it is our bread and cheese, and that makes a difference.”

They sat without talking for a few moments, but then Sam said: “I’m glad you’re doing so much better.”

Legolas smiled, and for more than just the good wishes.  Sam apparently did want to talk even if he didn’t know it.  “I am feeling far better than I did last night.  I feel I have done nothing but sleep for two days, but it has done me a world of good.”

“You worried me so much,” Sam said gravely.  “If you could have seen yourself… you would have thought it was too late for you, too.”

“I have much to be thankful for; there is no denying that,” said Legolas.  “I cannot claim to have saved myself.  Without the help of many others, I would not be alive now.”  Without your help most of all, he thought, but he didn’t say so.  That would come later.  Approaching the subject of Sam’s first kill had to be done delicately.

“Me, too,” said Sam.  “If it hadn’t been for Boromir and Merry….  Well, it’s not as if I remember much of it, thankfully, though what I do remember I’d like to forget.”

“What do you mean?” said Legolas, suddenly concerned.

“You mean they didn’t tell you?” said Sam, frowning.  “I know you’ve been talking with the others.”

Legolas stared.  What had happened to Sam that he did not already know?  “Tell me what?” he demanded, but even as he said it, a chilling thought came to him.  He had never heard how Sam had escaped the Feinduin the second time.

“It was Boromir who pulled me out of the river,” said Sam, who was staring at an unremarkable spot on the ground.  “They said I wasn’t breathing when he found me, and Merry had to bring me ’round.  He knows what to do with hobbits who’ve almost drownded, you see.  He grew up near a river.”

Legolas’ chest had grown cold as Sam spoke.  “Elbereth,” he whispered.  Sam had nearly drowned?  What would he have done if he had awoken to find that Sam had perished in the river?  How could he have borne it?

“I am never, ever going swimming again, not even in a pond,” Sam declared stoically.

“Thank the Valar for our brave companions!” Legolas said fervently, meaning every word.  He thought of Sam sinking into the river, filling his lungs with icy water as he gasped for air, and felt sick.  “Oh, mellon nin, I am so very sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Sam.  “You couldn’t help being shot.”

“I did try –”

“I know you did.  You couldn’t, sir; you just couldn’t.  You’d done so much already.”

“But that is my task, Sam – to make sure that you, Frodo, Merry and Pippin reach Mordor alive.”

Sam looked up in surprise.  “What about the others?”

“Ah.  I do not mean to imply that they are unimportant.  Aragorn has a great destiny, certainly; much depends on him, and on Mithrandir as well, I think.  And who can say what the rest of us are meant to do?  There is much that is noble in our Fellowship.  But even so, I and all the others that you call ‘Big Folk’ are determined to help the four of you go as far as you can, even unto our own deaths.”

Sam stared.

“I am not one of the Wise,” said Legolas.  “I have not their insight.  But they have told us that it is hobbits who will be central to the victory – and that is why the four of you come first.  This cannot truly be news to you; Elrond and Mithrandir talked of little else before we departed from Rivendell, and I am sure you must have heard them.”

“I did,” Sam admitted, “and it’s hard to miss the way you’re all of you always looking out for us.  But it feels different, hearing you say it like that.”

“Even if it were not my duty to protect you, I would give much to ensure your safety,” Legolas added quietly.  “I have already told Frodo, Merry and Pippin this, but now I must tell you: your entire race has grown in my estimation during our time together.  I misjudged you terribly, Samwise; there is great strength in you, strength that I had not expected to find.  I wonder if I do not see you now better than even the Wise do.”

“You can’t know what that means,” Sam murmured.  “Your regard, I mean.”  Legolas could not help noticing that the hobbit’s voice was suddenly unsteady and that he refused to meet his eyes.  Out of compassion, he turned his own gaze away.

“And I don’t deserve it,” Sam breathed.

Startled, Legolas blinked.  There it was – Sam’s first real word on what was truly bothering him.  He had not expected it to come so soon.  It did not sound as if Sam had meant for him to hear what he said, though he should have known better; he knew enough about Elven senses by now.  Perhaps Sam had said what he was thinking without realizing it.  “Do not say such things,” Legolas admonished gently.  “That is nonsense.”

Sam flushed.  “I hadn’t meant to….” he began, confirming Legolas’ suspicions.  He drew both knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

But Legolas saw that Sam’s hands were trembling slightly, and his eyes were a little too bright.  The disquiet that he failed to hide coupled with that one statement – I don’t deserve it – told Legolas a good deal of what Sam had been thinking for the past two days.  Well, Sam had certainly stepped over a line now.  Legolas was willing to bet anything that his soul’s desire for solace was stronger than the fear that had kept him silent until now.  “You deserve every ounce of my regard and more,” he said firmly.

“No,” said Sam.  “Please don’t.”

“Sam –”

“No,” Sam repeated in a quavering voice.  Legolas held his peace and watched the hobbit out of the corner of one eye.  Long, quiet moments passed while Sam drew in deep breaths of cold air and struggled to regain his composure.  He was not succeeding; his eyes were wide and brimming with unshed tears, and his chin began to tremble as the seconds ticked by.  He was staring straight ahead, looking as if he were gazing into a yawning abyss that nobody else could see.

“You don’t….” Sam suddenly said.  “I can’t….”  He squeezed his eyes shut, sending two tears running down his cheeks.  Embarrassed, he scrubbed at his face with the back of one hand before threading it securely around his knees again.

It is coming soon, thought Legolas, knowing that it would be next to impossible for Sam to stop the dam from bursting now.  The fight to contain it all had plainly become too great a strain.

Two more tears slid from behind Sam’s tightly closed eyelids.  With his arms wrapped around his legs, he had pulled into himself as firmly as he could.

“You are still Samwise Gamgee,” Legolas said softly.  “It will come out all right.”

A sob burst from Sam’s throat followed closely by muffled, erratic breathing as he tried one last time to pull himself together.  Several paces behind him, Legolas could sense the rest of the company going absolutely still.  When he reached over and put one hand on Sam’s shoulder, Sam seemed to crumple beneath his fingers.

Legolas easily pulled Sam close until he leaned against his side.  Whether Sam was too weakened by grief to resist or simply didn’t care to try made no matter to him.  During those times in his life when he had been at his most broken, it had always been another’s touch that had given him the greatest possible comfort.  The presence of a sympathetic soul was better by far than grieving alone.

Sam wept bitterly for several minutes, clutching one side of Boromir’s cloak about himself while Legolas’ arm kept him in place.  He shed his tears with such ferocity that Legolas began to grow concerned, and at length he found himself singing quietly in an effort to calm Sam before he slipped back into self-recrimination.  It was nothing great or lofty – just a simple song about grass and flowers and other growing things – but Sam was a gardener, after all, and took joy in such.  Legolas hoped that he could discern the subject even though the words were in Elvish.  Hobbits seemed to have more in common with Elves than most mortals; perhaps he would be able to tell.

Sam’s sorrow ebbed away slowly.  It rose up once or twice again when Legolas had thought him serene again, but eventually he began to show signs of exhaustion.  Legolas sang without interruption – most of the songs that he knew tended to go on a bit – until Sam’s breathing had become slow and even.  He would have kept on singing until Sam had dropped off entirely, but there was something he wanted to say while Sam was still malleable.

“Sam,” Legolas said quietly.

“Hmm?” said Sam.

“You and I should talk tomorrow.”

Sam yawned behind one of his hands.  Legolas waited for several long moments before prodding him again.  “Sam?”

“Sounds good,” Sam murmured.  “I think I had… better sleep now.”

“Then sleep.  There is nothing to stop you.”

“Oh, no.  I am very comfortable, but I don’t want you” – Sam yawned again – “sitting here all night.”

“I wouldn’t –”

“Yes, you would.”  Sam gave a groggy half-smile and pushed the fur-lined cloak off.  “I’ll take to my blankets, and you can get a proper night’s sleep, too.  Can you get up by yourself?”

“Not without upsetting Aragorn.”

“I suppose he’s done enough work on you that he doesn’t want you messing it up.  You’d better get him.”

Aragorn was summoned, and Sam made his way back to his bedroll.  To everyone’s great surprise, he sought out Frodo and exchanged a few quiet words with him before closing his eyes and rolling over.  Very little was said, but Frodo looked considerably relieved as he left Sam’s side for the small campfire.

Legolas found that he was more tired than he had expected to be, which was less than heartening.  Two days, he thought, was surely enough sleep for anyone.  Pleased that Sam had made progress but disappointed in his own weariness, he chose to seek sleep himself instead of joining the rest of the company around the small firepit.  Boromir refused the return of his cloak yet again, so Legolas remained inside it as he lay down on his back and stared up at the rocky ceiling above him.

The Fellowship waited until Sam’s first snore sounded before turning to Legolas.  “How astonishing!” said Frodo, smiling from ear to ear.

“Yes,” Legolas murmured.  “Remember that it is not done yet, though, and that this was but one step forward.  Still, I think Sam will be much improved tomorrow.”

“Any step forward is a good one,” said Mithrandir. 

“Are you all right, Legolas?” asked Pippin.  “You don’t sound happy.”

“Oh, I am happy,” Legolas assured him.  “Happy where Sam is concerned, at least.  It is only that I am tired again – and I weary of feeling this way.”

“Well, you’re getting better every day, too,” Pippin said encouragingly.  “Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Legolas smiled drowsily.  “You are right.  All things are made new with the rising of the sun, and tomorrow will bring fresh counsel.”

“Fresh food, too, with any luck,” said Boromir.  “Bring your appetite with you when you wake.”

“Hmm,” said Legolas, and let his eyelids fall half-closed.  A few minutes passed, and he was on the verge of dropping off when he suddenly heard Pippin whisper: “It’s no wonder he’s so tired.  He eats like a rabbit!”

“Or a bird,” Merry whispered back.

“He will be hungrier tomorrow,” said Mithrandir.  “Wait and see.”

“It doesn’t seem natural,” said Pippin.  “Are you sure there’s nothing still wrong with him, Strider?”

“Truly, he is much better,” said Aragorn.  “Don’t listen too much to what he says about himself; he is too self-critical.  He will be perfectly ready to travel soon.”

“I’m so glad,” said Frodo.  “What would we have done if we hadn’t gotten him back?  Sam might never have forgiven himself, even if it were none of his fault.”

“I will have to ask him just what it is that he finds so lovable about that Elf,” said Gimli, but to Legolas’ surprise, there was no bitterness to be heard in his voice.  “Well, there is something that you all should know.  After Sam and Legolas jumped off that cliff, I promised myself that I would tell Legolas that he had done well, should he live through it.  I knew there was no way that Sam could have escaped the river the first time without his help, and I have grown quite fond of Sam.”

“I suppose there’s no chance you’ll ever grow fond of Legolas,” said Merry.

“Not much.”

“Then why are you telling us this?”

“To ensure that I keep my promise,” Gimli growled.  “I can’t break it if you all know about it.  Well, there it is; I will give him the praise he deserves, and we will see if he laughs at me.  But if he does, I will be convinced that he is unworthy of Sam’s affection.”

“He won’t laugh at you,” said Pippin, but Legolas scarcely heard him.  It was astonishing to hear Gimli talk of such a thing when Legolas had been readying himself to approach Gimli for much the same reason.  Suddenly the thought of walking up to Gimli and offering the apology he was owed did not seem quite so dreadful.

Well, thought Legolas, here is something the Fellowship surely never thought to see – the Elf and Dwarf offering each other a truce.  He could not help but wonder how it would go.  It would be interesting to see whether he and Gimli could actually hold a conversation afterward.  It might be possible; they had never before gotten past the sniping and insults to find out.

Legolas drew a deep, silent breath, exhaled, and concentrated on relaxing himself enough to sleep.  He hoped that he would wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, for he had two very important conversations ahead of him.  One would likely be much longer than the other, but it was impossible to say which would be the more taxing.

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A/N: Hey, gang.  A few people have sent out feelers in an effort to find out what on earth I’m doing these days.  I have been working on the next chapter, but it’s been coming very slowly; I’ve already scrapped a great deal of work… twice.  All the same, I feel that I have made some real progress lately, and that’s a good thing.  This story will be finished – it’s just a question of when.