Summary: In Imladris, Frodo and Legolas have a quiet talk.
A/N: I hope I get Frodo's 'voice' right...hobbits are not usually the ones to draw my Muse. Written for B2MEM March 14, and to the members of this group for being among those I am proud to call friends.

"You have taken a heavy task upon yourself, Ringbearer." Legolas perched lightly on a bench beside Frodo Baggins, gazing at the young Hobbit with compassion in his eyes.

"And you...Prince Legolas?" Frodo paused. "Your father is the Elvenking my Uncle Bilbo spoke of, is he not?" Legolas smiled for answer.
"Even so, but I do not take my father's status to heart. The trees chose my grandfather; I do not flaunt my rank." 

 "So I must not call you 'my Prince', or 'my Lord'?" Frodo ventured. Legolas laughed. "Even were you to do so, I am not your Prince or Lord. Nay, Ringbearer, you may call me 'Legolas' only, for it is my honour to be your companion, and I hope, your friend."

"Then, Legolas, you may call me Frodo," the Hobbit rejoined, "and I would be proud to call you my friend." The two exchanged somber smiles. "I will be glad of friends on this journey; more than Merry and Pippin, I mean, and of course, my dear Sam."
"They are as brothers to you," Legolas observed, "or at the least, boon companions. Estel said as much."

"Estel...ah," Frodo said, with an understanding nod. "Yes," he agreed, "they are all close to me. I am grateful Master Elrond has permitted me to keep their company."

"I am quite grateful he has selected me to join you, though the road be long and the danger high. Make no mistake, Frodo, this journey will not be without peril; I would have understood Master Elrond well, had he forbidden your young cousins or myself from going along."

"You?"

"I have not seen many more than seven hundred years of the Sun," Legolas said, and was secretly pleased when, instead of the expected flash of confusion, a light of understanding flared in his companion's eyes. "Of course, I am an adult, but I am much like your Meriadoc, I believe...young still, untried, born to be a leader of my race, but untested. The Master of Imladris is a kinsman of mine; he would feel responsibility toward me if aught should happen. Needless to say...my father would not be pleased." A wry smile flickered over the Elf's fair visage.

"Surely Aran Thranduil would not seek to make war on Imladris?" Frodo asked anxiously. Legolas shook his head.

"I do hope my adar has more sense," he said. "Great in power though my adar is, Elrond would not stand for any such nonsense. They are, as I said, kinsmen, and Elrond happens to be Adar's elder. There is a...chain of command, of a sort, when it comes to familial relations. I do not doubt our cousin would utilise it to his advantage."

Frodo nodded. "Then I am grateful it will not come to war."

"It will," Legolas murmured, "but Belain willing, my family will stand united."
"Belain willing," Frodo echoed, and they fell silent, each grateful for the other's company. Finally, though, Frodo spoke up. "What if the Belain have forsaken us?"

"You think so, young Ringbearer?"
"It did cross my mind," Frodo admitted, turning his gaze from the Sindar elf's piercing blue eyes. He cringed as he felt, rather than saw, Legolas move. Legolas only lay a hand on the young hobbit's shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"The Belain have not forsaken us, Frodo," Legolas said softly. "They have, I think, appointed this task to you, but they have not forsaken you, for you are not alone."
"Thank you, Legolas," Frodo whispered, and Legolas nodded, gathering Frodo into his arms.
"You are welcome, Frodo. Remember, even when times are darkest, there will always be Light within."

Frodo nodded, and let Legolas hold him as he trembled. He was afraid; but at least he was no longer alone in his fear...and for that, and the Elf's freely given friendship, he was most grateful.