It was a sorrowful journey made from Moria to the next destination. What that destination was, you didn't know. No one was talking to anyone else - a silence as heavy as the sorrow on the air hung above the heads of the Fellowship.

"What are we going to do now?" you asked Legolas one night on your turn to hold watch, after he had told you stories of his interactions with the company of Thorin Oakenshield. He was slightly annoyed that your favourite was the boisterous Kili, but conversation had now turned more serious. "Where will we go?"

"I do not know," Legolas admitted, turning his bow over in his hands, which was in dire need of replacement. "Perhaps we will seek safe passage with the elves of Lothlorien."

"Really?" you pushed off the tree you'd been resting against, putting your hands in your lap with a grin. "I have heard the most wonderful stories of their ways, and the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."

Legolas, slightly miffed, replied, "The halls of my kingdom, Mirkwood are also vast and beautiful."

"Maybe you can take me sometime, after this whole quest is over." you smirked, leaning back against the tree again, closing your eyes to sleep.

Legolas stared at you, surprised, then he let out a shocked chuckle, shaking his head in awe at this wonderful, strange girl so different to every elleth he'd known.

"You should see the expression on your face right about now," Aragorn chuckled from the other side of the clearing, not even opening his eyes.

Legolas started, then winced, expecting his friend to give him some lecture about being so obvious about his feelings, and the fact that the girl of his interest was basically like a sister to the Ranger, but Aragorn unsurprisingly said nothing.

"Very funny, Aragorn," he said dryly. "You're hilarious."

- - -

The next day, you sprinted over grassy fields, and your packs had been quite lightened since your setting out from Rivendell by the need for food. You enjoyed running around - the moments just before your feet touched the ground after a leap prompting you to feel like you were flying always bringing a smile to your face.

But eventually, the excitement faded into concern - the grasses were a wide-open plain, easily within view of any Orc parties that might be pursuing you. You were relieved when the Fellowship made it into a safe forest that would provide adequate shelter from watchful eyes.

"These are the woods near Lorien," Legolas whispered to you. Speaking loudly seemed improper in such an obviously magical place as this. "Though it has been quite a few years since I last visited. I now that they do not particularly like mortal visitors."

"Elves," Gimli scoffed, and you scowled at him. "Thinking they own every bloody forest in the world."

"Gimli!" you hissed. "Show some respe-" As you turned to look where you were going, you came face to face with an arrow nocked in a bow. "Oh, rhaich."

Legolas had already drawn his bow, and you placed your hand on one of your swords, but something about the Elves surround you made you hesitate. "Lower your weapons."

An ellon came forth, looking to be of importance. He looked amongst the Fellowship, his eyes finally landing on you, Aragorn and Legolas. "Legolas o Taur-nu-Fuin - iston i nîf gîn." Legolas of Mirkwood - I know your face.

He then focused on the Ranger. "Aragorn. Gi nathlam hí." You are welcome here.

Then, to your discomfort he looked at you. You guessed he'd heard your Sindarin curse and your trust of him and his people. "Gi suilon, adaneth. Pedig edhellen?" I greet you, mortal girl. Do you speak Elvish?

"No," you answered uncertainly. Yes. "Am man?" Why?

The Elf tilted his head, appearing to also be slightly confused. You were not known to him, but your Sindarin was good, and your respect for the Elves apparent. "Im Haldir o Lorien. Tolo ar nin." I am Haldir of Lorien. Come with me.

"What are they saying?" Gimli grumbled. "They could be trading in our lives for theirs."

You turned to the Dwarf. "Really, Gimli? Really?"

He had the decency to look ashamed, and the Fellowship followed Haldir as you were bid.

- - -

You gazed around in awe at the starlit world of Lorien - the unique beauty only the Elves could use so well.

Haldir brought you all to the bottom of a set of stairs, and backed away. You looked at the Elves around you out of the corner of your eye, all still holding onto their bows with a coiled wariness.

Suddenly, instinct instructed you to look up, and as you did, the purest light you had ever seen streamed from the top of the stairs, and before it walked the two most beautiful Elves you had ever seen (with the exception of Legolas, maybe, not that you would admit that).

The first was a man who you presumed to be Celeborn, the father-in-law of Elrond. He seemed stern and strong, but also gracious and of goodwill.

But all of his brilliance was outshone by far by the woman next to him, who looked like Luthien reincarnate. She radiated benevolence and beauty, and something about her made Y/N trust her instantly.

When Y/N turned to the side she struggled to hold back a giggle, because every other member of the Fellowship was completely and utterly entranced by her, except for Aragorn, who had put his head in one of his hands, knowing the entrancing nature of ellith (elf maids).

"Your journey has been long and difficult," Galadriel said, her voice as smooth as the song of a lute. "But here is a place where you can rest."

"Le fael, hiril vuin o Lorien," you said quietly. You are generous, beloved lady of Lorien.

She smiled at you. "Tell me, my brave heroes, where is the tenth member of your Fellowship, Mithrandir? I have desired to speak with him."

You inhaled sharply, not wishing to say it aloud. But, by your side, Legolas tilted his head upwards, speaking to Galadriel.

"He fell in Moria. By the hand of a Balrog of Morgoth." His clear voice rang through the peace of Lothlorien, the evil name bringing a chill to the air.

Celeborn bowed his head. "This is miserable news you bring, Legolas Thranduilion."

"But do not let this make you downhearted," Galadriel spoke again. "For our appreciation of your mission and our welcome to you is not lessened."

She indicated that you would follow her, gliding off with Celeborn at her side.

- - -

Ethereal singing filled the air - Quenyan and Sindarin mixed together in one sad, haunting melody.

"A lament to Gandalf," Legolas told the rest of the Fellowship, his hunting clothes replaced by beautiful white garments. "They mourn for him."

He sat next to you on a cushioned bench under a swaying tree. "You look beautiful, Y/N."

You blushed. "Perhaps the clothes of Lothlorien truly possess the wondrous magic of their wearers."

Galadriel had generously gifted the Fellowship clothing and you loved the dress you wore, in its regal white, hanging from your body in perfect swirls of lace.

Legolas shook his head. "Y/N, I've seen you in dresses of incredible beauty, covered in your own blood, and wearing nothing but a slip and my travelling cloak." You blushed at the reminder. "I don't think it's the clothing that is beautiful. It's you."

"I don't think I've ever received a sweeter compliment in my life," you admitted, and hesitantly shifted towards Legolas until your legs touched. To your relief, he didn't move away.

"Then, clearly the right people have not been complimenting you," Legolas said, with a nervous smile.

Staring into his eyes, so close to him, you could not move away, and you didn't want to. He leaned in, and you could feel his warm breath on your face, like a pleasant summer's breeze. You also moved towards him, and your noses were touching when someone cried:

"Hiril Y/N! E tengwar!" Lady Y/N! A letter!

You tore away from Legolas, blushing and unable to look him in the eye, as you took the letter from the Lorien messenger.

From the Dunedain?

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