Three days into their journey it started to rain. Lightly at first, but it gradually began to fall in sheets; the company was forced to shelter under some trees until the storm passed.
This is not how I imagined our journey would begin, Aragorn thought humorlessly. His gaze shifted to each of his friends and took note that they were all trying to make the best out of their current situation. 

Sam and Gimli were trying to light a small fire but all that had wrought were a few dwarvish curses from Gimli. Boromir was showing Pippin and Merry how to properly clean their swords though he was quickly getting annoyed by his wet hair continuously falling in his eyes. Frodo had his hood pulled up over his head and was watching them just as Aragorn was. Legolas had vanished into the trees in order to keep watch, Aragorn knew that they wouldn't be seeing their elf for awhile.

To pass the time Aragorn went over their route in his head. Elrond had instructed him to keep the company away from all the main roads and any villages they may come across. Aragorn planned on leading them through Hollin and then traveling along the Misty Mountains where he hoped they would have less chance of being discovered. If they were taken by surprise by orcs or other enemies they could take shelter in the mountains.

He'd traveled through those mountains with Gimli many times before, the two had found many hidden caves and passes that could get someone lost if they did not know the land; which could work in their favor.If the need arose the company could head for the mountains. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the rain reduced to nothing more than a light drizzle, and Sam was able to light the fire. While the hobbits worked on preparing a meal (with Gimli supervising) Boromir came to sit beside Aragorn and see how he was faring.

"Someone has a lot on their mind." The Gondorian commented as he settled himself on the hard ground.
"How could you tell?" Aragorn asked rolling his eyes.
"Well, you haven't said anything for over an hour." Boromir pointed out. Aragorn shrugged his shoulders and replied,
"I did not have anything to say."

"You have also failed to light your pipe, anytime we go on a journey the first chance you get you light your pipe." Aragorn chuckled and put his hands up in surrender.
"Alright, you caught me." Boromir smiled, satisfied with his friend's confession. After taking a moment to watch the hobbits argue over what they'd be having for dinner that night Boromir turned to back to his friend and asked, "So what is on your mind?"

"How much time do you have?" Aragorn shifted himself into a more comfortable position with his back leaning against a tree while Boromir informed the Ranger of his schedule.
"Well let's see: I have to sit around while I wait for dinner to be prepared, then I'll probably have to go out and collect firewood, after that I have to argue with everyone about who is going to have first watch tonight, spend a couple of hours trying to get myself into a comfortable position so I can sleep, rest for a few minutes before I am awakened to take watch, fight to stay awake while I sit in the cold, wake someone else up for their watch, toss and turn on the ground for an hour or so, and finally get roused by someone else and continue our laborious trek through this land of misery and woe until we find another place to camp."

Aragorn "tsked" and shook his head. "I'd hate to disrupt your oh so busy schedule my dear Boromir."

"I'm sure that I can make time to listen to you dump all of your troubles onto me." Was Boromir's reply. Aragorn allowed a quiet laugh to escape him before returning to his "Grim Ranger Face" as Gimli and Boromir liked to call it. Aragorn decided to only share what he considered his "minor problems" before sharing what was truly eating away at his mind. He spoke of the road ahead, the route he had decided to lead them on, and the unease he felt traveling abroad with all of Sauron's spies and servants about. Throughout all of this Boromir remained silent, only nodding his head to confirm that he was listening.

One Aragorn finished Boromir waited a moment before asking, "What is really bothering you Aragorn? And please do not try to act as if there's nothing wrong or I'll tell the hobbits to leave all the cooking to Gimli while they sit down and relax." 

Aragorn's eyes widened in mock horror.
"Oh please! Anything but that! The last time I ate some of Gimli's cooking I was bedridden for almost a week." Boromir grimaced. He remembered that week all too well and decided that such a punishment was far too cruel. Fortunately for both of them, Aragorn was willing to confess what was bothering him, and Sam had taken complete charge over cooking. Aragorn stood up and Boromir followed suit.
"I need to speak with Boromir for a moment," Aragorn informed the hobbits and dwarf, "we will not be long."

Though curious the others did not ask any questions, which allowed the two men to leave the camp without any delay. Once they were far enough to where the sharp ears of hobbits could not hear, without so much as a word or explanation, Aragorn unsheathed his sword and presented it to Boromir. Once his eyes landed on the blade he saw that no explanation was necessary.
"The shards of Narsil," he breathed in utter disbelief, "you had them reforged...."

Aragorn nodded his head solemnly, his own eyes studying Boromir rather than the sword he carried.
"It is now called Andúril, Flame of the West," he said quietly. Boromir's eyes finally left the sword and met Aragorn's, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"Does this mean, you are going to Gondor? To claim your throne?" 
Aragorn nodded as he returned Andúril to its sheath.
"I believe that my time has come at last Boromir, whether I go there with the others or on my own, I will go to Gondor and take my place as king. Then if it is my fate, I will challenge Sauron and do what I can to drive his darkness from Middle Earth."

Boromir struggled to find something to say, what should he say? He'd known for years that Aragorn was the rightful ruler of Gondor, and he had offered Aragorn his allegiance and help in claiming his throne, he just couldn't believe that it was finally happening. After overcoming his initial shock, Boromir finally managed to ask what was now weighing heavily on his mind.
"What about Frodo? And the other hobbits? Once they are with Gandalf do we leave them and head for Minas Tirith ourselves? What about Gimli and Legolas? Where will they go?"

"I cannot answer those questions I'm afraid," Aragorn sighed and ran his hand through his messy hair.
"I am still not certain if it is truly my time to go to Minas Tirith, for all I know my path lies with Frodo and where his own quest takes him. As for Legolas and Gimli, they will certainly not return home when their friends are in need. Should our paths split though, I fear they will be torn between accompanying us to Gondor or staying with the hobbits. They have grown rather fond of them, and to be honest so have I."

"I'd say we all have," Boromir pointed out, "I do not wish to leave them either, especially with all the evil that is lurking about these days." 

"I agree Boromir, but if duty calls us elsewhere we must push our own feelings aside to do what is best for everyone else. Though it pains me to say it, it is something we must all come to accept." Aragorn's words were more of a reminder to himself than anything. His heart was constantly pulling him in different directions, and he did not know which way was the right way to go.

"We should get back to the others before they come looking for us." Boromir suggested pulling his cloak tighter around himself. Aragorn nodded his consent, "Aye, that would be wise. I can also tell that you are longing for the warmth of the fire." 

Boromir nodded eagerly before setting off at a brisk pace towards the camp with Aragorn following at a slower pace, shaking his head in amusement at his friend's attempt to cheer him up. Unbeknownst to both of them, someone had been listening to their conversation, and his sharp ears had picked up everything.

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Frodo waited patiently for Sam to finish distributing the stew he had made to everyone before he began his meal. It was only when Sam was dishing himself his own bowl that Frodo noticed a member of their company was missing.
"Where's Legolas?" he asked aloud. While the hobbits started looking around, the two men and dwarf didn't seem to be concerned at all over the missing elf.

"Don't worry about him lads," Gimli assured them while blowing on his stew to cool it, "he always vanishes when we set up camp. He'll show up when he's hungry, just save him a bowl."

Frodo glanced over at Sam who shrugged uncertainly while Merry whispered to Pippin,
"He makes it sound like Legolas is their wayward pet who wanders off all the time." Pippin snickered as he took a bite of his stew, and then let out a yelp as the hot food came into contact with his tongue. Frodo noticed what had befallen his cousin and made sure that his own meal was cool before he took a bite.

True to Gimli's word Legolas appeared minutes later; by dropping unexpectedly out of a tree and startling everyone when he landed in the midst of the camp. Shouts of anger and muttered curses followed as the friends took note of their spilt stew and Legolas' mischievous smile.
"You should have been more alert my friends," Legolas scolded them in mock anger, "had I been an orc you would have all been dead by now."

"You're not an orc?!" Gimli exclaimed in horror. "Aragorn, please tell me that I didn't befriend an elf by accident! I could have sworn that he was a very polite orc!"

Frodo couldn't help himself, he laughed. Soon the others had joined in as well, save Legolas who was calmly serving himself a bowl of stew.
"For your sake Master Dwarf, I will pretend that I did not hear that." Legolas sat on the ground next to Sam and quietly enjoyed his meal as the others finished theirs; and as a punishment Legolas was ordered to clean all of the bowls and spoons while the others relaxed, except for Sam who insisted on helping the elf.

Once Sam and Legolas returned from the small stream where they had been working everyone was ready to retire for the night. Legolas volunteered to take first watch since he was not tired. Merry would be next, then Aragorn, Pippin, Boromir, Sam, Gimli, and finally Frodo. Yet as tired as he was, Frodo could not sleep. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours he gave up on trying to sleep and decided to be content with laying motionless on the ground to let his mind wander.

His thoughts journeyed back to the Shire, oh how he missed Bag-End, the green grass, the sweet smell of wild flowers blooming in the meadow, his favorite spot in the forest where he would go to read, how he wished he were back there now. Then his thoughts went to Bilbo who was waiting for him back in Rivendell, and his last words to him before he left, "Don't let it corrupt you the way it has me." 

Unconsciously Frodo's hand strayed towards the Ring that hung around his neck. For the first time since the journey began, Frodo began to hear its whispers. In a soothing, almost sweet voice, it began to offer him power and riches beyond anything he could ever imagine. 

He saw himself as a mighty ruler, all of Middle Earth would pay homage to him, offer him their loyalty, their servitude....

Frodo's eyes shot open and a small gasp escaped him. How could I have allowed it to take hold of me so easily?

Now he was afraid to let his mind settle, what if the whispers came again? What if he wasn't strong enough to ignore them? Deciding that he'd be better off awake, Frodo quietly stood up and took care not to waken his companions as he crept quietly out of the camp.

I'd better not wander too far, Frodo told himself. If the others were to awaken and notice him gone there would be a panic, and if that were to happen he had better be whithin shouting distance. As he walked Frodo tried to forget what the Ring had "promised" him. He wished that he could just be rid of it, yet at the same time, he didn't want to part with it.

Now I understand why people go mad when they carry this thing, Frodo thought with a humorless chuckle. Something soft sounded in his ears and he stiffened, afraid that the Ring was trying to tempt him again. As he listened, Frodo noticed that there was something different about this voice. Unlike the Ring's which had been seductive and filled with malice; this one was gentle, yet carried a tinge of sadness with it.

Another thing Frodo realized was that it wasn't coming from inside his head, but somewhere near him, and that it was the sound of someone singing. Enchanted by the song, Frodo followed the voice through the forest, careful not to stray too far from the camp. The voice led him to a tree a few feet away from where his companions slept. Lifting his head Frodo searched the branches for the owner of the song, and was surprised to find that it was Legolas.

Sam had told him that Legolas could sing, and he'd heard from the others that the elf was fond of writing his own songs, but nothing could have prepared Frodo for the wave of sorrow that washed over him as Legolas' voice drifted down from the tree and into his ears. Though the words were in sindarian Frodo could tell that the song was one of grief, the exact opposite of what the hobbit had expected from the always cheerful elf.

Moving closer, Frodo took care to avoid being noticed by Legolas. For though the song was heartbreaking, it was absolutely enchanting. Legolas' voice rose and fell, his words weaving a tale of loss and sorrow, moments lost forever, and a longing for something that could never be his for he lost it long ago. Frodo did not realize that he had tears in his eyes until Legolas suddenly switched from elvish to the common tongue, and as the elf sang his lament, it seemed as if the earth mourned along with him.

"I search for you yet you are not there. I call your name yet you do not hear. The mist is closing in around me, leaving my heart in darkness. Why do you hide from me? Did you not say that you loved me? I gave you everything I had, yet you left. I have waited for you yet you are still gone. Why did you leave me? I thought that you loved me...."

His voice trailed off as he hung his head. Frodo noticed in the dim light of the moon that Legolas was holding something in his hand, though he could not see what it was. In a voice hoarse with grief, Frodo could just hear Legolas say, "Come back, please." That had drawn the line for Frodo. He could no longer stand and witness someone whom he had always seen as bright and cheerful, fall to pieces like this.

"Legolas? Are you alright?" The elf jumped and quickly hid whatever he had been holding underneath his shirt. He looked down and smiled warmly at Frodo. "Forgive me Frodo, I did not notice you down there. I am not disturbing you am I?" Frodo however, was shocked speechless. There was no sign whatsoever that Legolas had been mourning, he smiled and looked as happy as he always did. Yet after seeing for himself what Legolas was trying to hide, the smile he had grown accustomed to, was nothing but a mask.

One that he has been wearing this whole time.... 

Legolas began to make his way down the tree while Frodo's mind raced to figure out what he was going to say to him. Should he ask him if he was alright? Accuse him of lying to his friends? Or drop the subject altogether? After all, was any of it truly his business? Legolas was standing in front of him now. Blue eyes sparkling with mirth and a playful smile on his lips. His head was tilted to the side, he was the embodiment of cheerfulness. Or so it seemed.

"I-I could not sleep," Frodo couldn't stop himself from adding, "that was a nice song." In a blink Legolas' entire demeanor changed. His entire body tensed and the smile faded from his face. "How much of it did you hear?" Legolas almost sounded guilty, fearful even. Frodo thought about his next words carefully. "I could not make out most of it actually, but it was still nice all the same."

Legolas' shoulders seemed to sag in relief. "Well, I am glad that you enjoyed it. Although I do apologize if I was keeping you from sleep. Would like me to accompany you back to camp? I am going to have wake Merry for his watch soon." Frodo nodded his agreement and together the two began to make their way back to camp. Legolas' song continued to sound in Frodo's mind. Who was Legolas singing about? How could they have caused him so much grief?

He desperately wanted to ask Legolas these things, but the elf was trying so hard to cover up his sorrow that Frodo did not wish to disturb him, or bring up any painful memories. Instead he kept his mouth shut and silently entered the camp. Legolas stood with his back against a tree, watching as Frodo quietly settled himself among his companions. Just like before Frodo could not sleep, he tossed and turned on the hard ground, willing himself to fall asleep.

Just when he was about to give up a soft voice filled the air. It was Legolas, singing a lullaby that he had made up. It was in sindarian but it mattered not to Frodo. Closing his eyes he allowed himself to become lost in the song, and sleep found the hobbit at last.

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Two weeks had passed since the company had set out from Rivendell. So far they had encountered nothing that was a threat to them, save a pack of wolves that had been easily frightened off by Legolas' arrows. 

So far, Sam thought to himself, this journey hasn't been so bad. During those two weeks the eight had truly bonded, and the hobbits no longer hesitated to call the two men, the dwarf, and the elf friends. Though he was fond of them all Sam usually found himself talking with Legolas whenever the company set up camp. They usually spoke of their homes and Sam was always glad to listen as Legolas described the trees in northern Mirkwood where he lived.

Merry was interested in dwarven culture and what life was like in Erebor, which Gimli could spend hours talking about. Pippin would sit wide-eyed beside Boromir as the warrior told him stories and legends of heroes from long ago. Frodo would have quiet talks with Aragorn from time to time, although what they spent evenings conversing about was unknown to Sam.

Dinner had been served and eaten and the company was preparing to retire for the night. As Sam settled himself he could hear Aragorn speaking, the Ranger sounded a bit annoyed. "I do not care if you are not tired, you need your rest just as we all do. You cannot keep taking over all the watches Legolas." 

Sam looked over his shoulder to where they spoke. Aragorn's arms were crossed while Legolas' hung limply at his sides. "I am telling you Aragorn, I am fine. What reason is there for you all to take watch when I am capable of doing it myself?"

"Because sooner or later this lack of rest will take its toll on you and you will be unable to focus properly. We need your senses sharp and alert Legolas, and you won't be able to kill many foes if you are too busy stumbling around half asleep."

Legolas opened his mouth again to protest but Aragorn cut him off. "You will be taking the last watch Legolas, get some sleep and rest yourself, you are weary do not think that I haven't noticed." Lowering his head in defeat Legolas conceded. Aragorn grasped his shoulder briefly before heading to where he would stand for his watch that night.

Deciding that there was no further reason for him to stay awake, Sam settled himself as comfortably as he could on the ground, and after many hours of tossing and turning he fell asleep.

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I cannot fall asleep.

It was an order, a command that he had given himself, a rule that he must follow.

I cannot fall asleep.

 Every time his mind began to tread towards the path of sleep he shook himself.

I cannot fall asleep....

But he was so tired, he had not slept in days.

I cannot....

His eyes glazed over, staring straight up at the night sky, his hands clasped together over his chest, his mind lost to elven dreams....

And the nightmares that came with them.