Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, wish I did... though me LotRMuses already wish that I had even less
access than I do... I wonder why... *g*

A/N: 1)It's 1:15 in the morning. This is the best title I could come up with. It doesn't fit
what the story *will* be like at all, so it's subject to change. *g*
2)This is mainly in the bookverse, which is why the movie-only folks out there might not agree
with some of the descriptions of Moria. This is one of the things that the movie chopped a *lot.*
3)Thoughts, as always, are in / /.

Please review! *g*

*****
Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Well, that settled *that* question.

The echoes of the West-gate being blocked from without by the Watcher in the Water answered it
more clearly than anyone's words could have, and with a numbing finality. There was no longer
even the option of going back. There was only forward.

Forward, into the darkness that weighed him down even then.

The last echoes faded at last, but once they had, he wished they hadn't. The endless stifling
silence was broken only by the Fellowship's harsh though quickly-calming breathing.

Smothering under the weight of the darkness and the knowledge of the great mountain that sat
above them, deafened by the unnatural quiet of the place, Legolas did not hear the others' short
conversation as to the inability to go back and the choosing of Gandalf to lead them through the
dark dwarven halls to the other side and out.

The Elf started with surprise at a small nudge from Aragorn, managed to shove down the
claustrophobic fear that rose in him enough to move legs like lead weights and follow the others
up a broad stairway.

Two hundred steps passed beneath his leaden feet. Two hundred steps that led them upward until
they came at last to a level passage that would take them even further into the mountain. Two
hundred steps in which the fear inside him could do nothing but grow, no matter how hard he
struggled with it.

The Fellowship stopped at the landing at the top of the stairs. There they ate, though Legolas
had not much appetite and ate barely enough to feed even the smallest of birds. The sip of
Elrond's wondrous *miruvor* helped lighten his spirits a little, enough to allow him to smile
reassuringly in the face of Aragorn's concerned look, and to shrug off his earlier hesetation as
nothing. His facade nearly cracked, however, upon hearing Gandalf estimate that it would take
them perhaps three or four days to reach the way out.

How could he survive four days of this oppressive, stifling darkness? How could he bear it? To
see not the sun or the moon or the stars, nor hear the wind plau through the trees, or the song
of birds? He felt the stone all around him, solid as a tomb. He breathed still air that tasted
of death and despair.

Then Aragorn was there, nudging him once again.

He looked up and saw that the others had already begun to continue on their way, following
Gandalf and his glowing staff.

The pale glow made the already deep shadows seem endlessly deeper, and Legolas was of no mind to
be left alone in the dark. Quickly, he rose and followed the others.

Aragorn came last, ever-watchful for dangers, continually casting concerned glances at the Elf.
Despite Legolas' reassurances that all was well, he could tell that *something* was amiss,
troubling the Elf.



For hours upon hours Gandalf led them through the maze of roads and passages that wound through
the mountain, until they came to a wide arch opening into three passages. Here they stopped, for
Gandalf could not remember the correct path.

Weary and also hoping that rest might help restore the old wizard's memory, they decided to pass
what remained of the night in a guardroom beside the archway.

Pippin got the first watch as punishment for dropping a piece of stone down a well that stood
open in the floor of the room, and awakening ominous noises from the levels below.

Legolas lay awake in his blankets, unable to find peace enough to sleep. As ever, the darkness
weighed heavily on him. Despite his companions' nearness, he felt so utterly alone, cut off from
everything living. He breathed in the faint stench of old death with every breath, heard the
cold stone shout deafeningly, echoing years-gone death-cries into the endless silence.

Then he looked over to see both Aragorn and Gandalf lying awake as well. After a short while, an
eternity in stone, the wizard got up and went to take up the watch, sending Pippin to his rest
with the others.

That left Aragorn.

Aragorn, who chose that moment to turn his eyes to Legolas, saw the naked fear and despair the
Elf felt revealed in unguarded freen eyes. Elven eyes blinked, shocked at having been caught
watching, then the veil fell once more over them, keeping the emotions behind them carefully
hidden.

But it was too late for that, and Legolas knew it.

In a way, he was embarrassed at having been seen being something other than the strong, capable
Elven warrior that he was. But another part of him, a larger part of him, was relieved. He knew
that Aragorn would not reveal what he had seen, knew he could perhaps lean on the Dunadan for the
aid he needed to take his troubled mind off the spirit-numbing darkness that closed in all around
him.

A hand fell to his shoulder, startling him once again. He looked up to see Aragorn there,
crouched beside him, concern on his face.

/Not a bad face,/ Legolas found himself thinking as he stared wordlessly up at the other. /Not a
bad-looking face at all. The rest of him is equally good-looking. Perhaps he *can* help me
drive away this inner darkness..../

"Legolas?" came the hushed query. The strong hand tightened briefly on the Elf's shoulder.

"Aragorn," Legolas said simply, need obvious in both voice and face. He reached up, one hand
sliding over one of the Ranger's shoulders, the other rising to the face, stubble scratching his
palm. "Please?" he asked as he pulled Aragorn down to lie on him. He feathered kisses over the
strong face. "Aragorn, please. Will you...?"

"Yes," came the reply.

Then lips met lips for the first time and their heated passions drove away the darkness within
until they both succumbed to sleep in each other's arms, sleeping an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Part 2

Gandalf woke them the next morning. He had decided during his night-watch which passage to lead
them on, and it was time to resume their trek.

Legolas awoke rested, feeling himself again with relief after the depths of darkness that had
been all around him the night before. The darkness wasn't entirely gone from within him, but it
*was* much reduced. His inner brightness, the light that all Elves share, felt redoubled inside,
perhaps seeming all the brighter for the contrast against the Dark.

He got up, joined the others for a breakfast slightly more optimistic than the last meal they'd
shared in the dark fastness under the mountain.

Then they were walking, again following the light of Gandalf's staff as he led them ever onward
toward the way out.

For eight long hours they walked, pausing only infrequently for rests and meals.

The ominous darkness closed once again on him during the long march, though not quite as fast or
as overwhelming as the night before. Still, he felt Aragorn's watchful gaze on him more or less
constantly, and was glad for it. For the perceptive Ranger was able to sense when the darkness
was closing in around him, at which times he would move up beside the Elf and distract him with
friendly speech, lightening the Elf's spirits when he needed it the most.



They were weary once again and looking for a secure resting-place for to pass the night when the
passage ended, opening out into a vast hall. The light from Gandalf's staff lit the area of
floor close about them, though leaving the distant walls and soaring ceiling veiled still in the
deep shadows.

Then Gandalf raised high his staff and called a sharp surge of bright white light. For one brief
moment, all the great hall's shadows were driven back, revealing what must have been a magnificent
hall in its day, when it was at all times brightly lit by lamps, torches and lanterns.

Even now it was still glorious, awe-inspiring, with its soaring pillars and vaulted ceilings, all
intricately carved as were all dwarven habitations, and set with bits of metal brightwork that
glinted in the light. Even after all this time, the pillars still stood and the floors were
straight and smooth.

Then the light faded and the shadows came once again. But somehow the companions took heart from
the memory; even abandoned as it was and had been for years, the light had showed it to be still
beautiful beneath the thickly clinging shadows.



They settled in to camp in one corner of the vast hall, out of the strong draft the blew across
the room from one doorway to the next.

Legolas ate the meal with the rest, then laid out his blankets and lay down on them. The others
soon followed is example. Their hushed conversations drifted off into silence one by one as they
settled in to sleep.

Silence fell again.

And again Legolas lay sleeplessly awake, the darkness and unease slowly creeping over him once
again. Not even the memory of the hall's grandeur or Gandalf's guess that they just might see
real sunlight on the morrow was enough to hold it back for long. Instead, the memory of the
sheer *size* of the room coupled with the darkness to emphasize the feelings of loneliness, of
insignificance.

He felt the unrelenting tide of darkness close in on him, even worse, perhaps, for the brief
respite.

He knew without looking whose hand it was that had just grasped his shoulder reassuringly. He
smiled faintly, rolled over to face the other.

"Aragorn," he acknowledged.

"Legolas," the Ranger said. he was crouched once again at the Elf's side, his expression one of
friendly concern. "Are you well?"

"It is dark," the Elf said quietly, careful not to speak so loud as to wake the others. "It
closes in. I can feel it and the weight of the mountain above. It presses down on me. It
stifles the breathing... and this place reeks of old death." He looked to Aragorn, miserable.
"It is dark, Aragorn. Even with Gandalf's light, it is very dark here."

Aragorn considered Legolas' words for a moment. He knew, having grown up in Rivendell with the
Elves, how important inner light and dark were for Elves. It was entirely possible that the
constant darkness was, as he said, stifling his breathing. "And last night?" he asked, speaking
as softly as did the Elf. "Did... what we did...what happened.... Did it help you?"

Legolas nodded without hesetation. "Yes," he answered. "It did. For a time." He paused,
remembering. "When I awoke this morning, I felt amazingly well, as if the light inside had been
doubled. Even throughout the day's march, with the closing darkness, I could feel it. It did
take much longer for the dark to creep in this time. It was only recently, as the others fell
asleep and the silence came...."

Aragorn gently squeezed the soulder he held. "If you need... or want... such help again tonight,
you have only to ask," he said simply, sincerely. "I am here for you, my friend."

Legolas' smile was genuine, unforced. He covered the Dunadan's hand with his own, tugged gently.
"Then I am asking," he said. "Help me again, as you did last night."

Aragorn lowered himself to the Elf's blankets, slipping under them with him. Then, as they had
the night before, their lips met. Once again, the flames of passion took them and wouldn't let
go until both were too exhausted to continue.

Once again they slept close together in each other's arms, dreamless, until morning.

TBC...

Through the Dark
by SkyFire

For disclaimer, see part 1.

A/N: 1) For those out there who've complained that the first two parts are basically the same in
plot, I am fully aware of that. BUT, if you have a copy of FotR, go and read the chapters "A
Journey in the Dark" and "the Bridge of Khazad-Dum." It takes up 23 pages in my copy of the book
for Tolkien to get the Fellowship from one end of Moria to the other. Believe you me, there is
repetition there, as well.

2)Anybody guessed what I'm going to do to the poor Elf yet? *g* There's been more than enough
foreshadowing in these three chapters to give you a pretty good idea! *g* Let me know your
guesses, hmm? I want to know where you think I'm going with this! *g*

3)Gandalf's sword Glamdring is the same as Frodo's blade Sting in that it was forged by
Elven-smiths and glows when there are orcs near. Just so that you know for later in this part. *g*

3)Thank you to all the people who reviewed nicely! My plotbunnies really appreciate it! *g*

Please review, if you're minded to be civil and polite. If you just want to flame me, don't
bother. If you hate this fic so much, why are you up to part 3, anyways?

*****
Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Part 3

They awoke the next morning in darkness less complete than it had been as they slept. Looking
around, they saw a pale glow of sunlight, slightly brightening the gloom at the archway at the
northern end of the great Hall that they were camped in.

Somewhat heartened by their first sight of sunlight in what had felt to be an eternity, they
shared a meal with more cheer than they had felt since entering the darkness of Moria. Surely
this day would be better than all the rest, if only because of that pale Sun-glow!

Legolas, himself, was heartened as well, feeling the feelings of overwhelming darkness leave him
nearly completely, even as once again feeling his inner light redoubled. It was to the Elf's
great pleasure that Gandalf decided to lead them to where the sunlight shone in, hoping it was a
window he could look out of to get an idea of which way to lead them to get out of Moria before
another night passed; the wizard wasn't the only one there who would appreciate a look out of a
window!

The mere thought of being free of Moria was more than enough to speed their steps as they once
again gathered up their belongings and hurried toward the northern arch where the Sun was,
beginning what was hopefully their last day's march underground.

They passed through the archway and into a long hallway. They could see now that the light came
from inside a room on their right. They went in, blinking dazzled eyes more accustomed now to
darkness, and looked around.

As Gandalf had suspected, the light came not from a window but from a shaft that had been carved
into the ceiling of the chamber, leading through to the outside of the mountain. The shaft of
light shone down onto a tomb in the middle of the chamber, the carved words on the lid revealing
it to be the tomb of the dwarf Balin, Gimli's kinsman who had led the attempt to reclaim Moria.

Looking around for clues as to what had happened there, they saw the skeletal remains of many
dead, buried in dust. And a book, so ill-used as to be now barely legible. In it, they learned
the fate of the doomed dwarven expedition.

Then the drums began to sound, echoing loudly, along with the sound of many feet on stone.

They blocked the door they'd entered by, slamming the doors and wedging them shut. The foul
creatures on the other side of the barrier beat and pounded at it, slowly shoving back the
wedges.

Then they were through.

The members of the Fellowship fought grimly in melee, slaying orc after orc, goblin after goblin,
managing finally to drive them back, repelling their attackers from the room and then managing to
block the door once more, again wedging it shut. Then, at Gandalf's harsh urgings, they fled out
the eastern doorway and down a long stairway.

Gandalf lingered at the doorway to work some magic to slow the pursuit, then joined them not much
later, leaning wearily on his staff, its light extinguished.

Then they were hurrying again, moving ever down the stairs, down level after level, turning
neither left nor right as they followed closely behind the wizard. They heard no sound of
pursuit from behind them, though the sound of drums continued to fill the air and set the stone
of walls and floor to vibrating all around them.

At last they came to a large hall, even larger than that in which they had camped the night
before. It was lit with the flickering red light of fire from a chasm that had opened up in the
floor.

Far in the distance at the far end of the hall was another chasm, this one with a narrow bridge
crossing it. It was toward this bridge that they ran, running as fast as they could, eager to
see the last of Moria and escape the pursuit they knew was coming after them.

A few loosed orc-arrows fell among them, though none found a home in flesh. The orcs were on the
other side of the fire-chasm, kept from them by the very means by which they had meant to trap
them.

Then the Fellowship reached the bridge.

Even as they began to cross, a creature both large and terrible threw down large slabs of stone
across the flaming chasm and crossed over, followed by the orcs and goblins, who kept a healthy
distance from the creatures of darkness and flame.

A Balrog.

The members of the Fellowship crossed the bridge and made for the stairs leading up on the other
side.

All, that was, save for Gandalf.

He had seen the Balrog, recognised what it was. He knew that he was the only member of the
Fellowship capable of facing the monster. And so he stayed, waiting for the evil creature,
leaning on his staff in the middle of the bridge, his brightly glowing sword Glamdring in hand.

The rest of the Company paused at the bottom of the stairs upon realizing that Gandalf was not
among them. They watched as he waited on the Bridge.

They watched as he fought the Balrog, shattering its sword of darkness with his sword of light.

They watched as he broke the Bridge with his staff, sending the Balrog plummeting into the
unfathomed darkness that was the chasm.

They watched, horror-stricken, as the Balrog's many-thonged whip snapped up a final time even as
the monster fell and wrapped itself around Gandalf's knees, pulling him from the Bridge.

They watched in disbelief as he fell from sight into darkness.

An arrow clattering on the stone at their feet roused them from their shock enough to turn and
flee away up the stairs, following the path out that Gandalf had told them of before they had
crossed the Hall.

Then they were out of Moria, running away down the Dimrill Dale, eyes dazzled by the bright
sunlight and their sadness and shock at the unexpected loss of Gandalf.

They had time to pause only for a moment as their grief overwhelmed them, then they had to force
it back and continue on, for they had to be far away by the time that night fell and the evil
creatures set forth from Moria in pursuit of them.

TBC...

*****
Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Part 4

The eight remaining members of the Fellowship walked quickly away from Moria's eastern gate, left
the Dimrill Dale far behind them as they hurried on, trying to reach the hopeful safety of the
Golden Wood before nightfall.

Though their quick pace left the world of dark halls far behind, it was ever with them in their
thoughts, for none could forget that last run and the fall of the only one among them that they
had thought undefeatable. To have had that proven wrong in such a hard way left them all numb
with shock and near-despair, for how could they even hope to succeed when one so mighty had
fallen so soon into the Quest?

And so it was with heavy hearts that they finally reached the Golden Wood of Lothlorien, home to
the Galadhrim Elves who were ruled over by Celeborn the wise and Galadriel the fair.

Darkness was falling all about them ere they reached the forest's western borders. Hoping the
wood would grant them some measure of safety from the orcs and goblins that they knew would
probably pour forth from Moria in pursuit, they walked quickly into the wood a ways, then looked
around at the silvery mallorn trees, looking for a likely tree in which to spend the night.

None of them wished to stay on the ground that night, perhaps to be found by evil creatures.

But the first tree they tried was... already occupied.

Legolas dropped back down to the ground at the firm order from the branches above, went to stand
with his companions.

Then the grey-clad Elf dropped down from above, bow drawn and ready. He looked anything *but*
pleased at their intrusion into the wood. He looked even *less* pleased when he heard that there
would probably be a large force of orcs coming in after them.

It was with reluctance, therefore, that he agreed to put them up for the night and guide them to
the capital city to meet with Celeborn and Galadriel the next day.

Haldir of Lorien got his first true look at Legolas as the members of the Fellowship separated to
climb up the silvery rope ladders to their sleeping-spaces on platforms high off the ground in
the branches of the mallorn.

"Who are you?" he asked Legolas as the other made to follow his companions. His eyes grew even
wider the longer he looked at the other, and he seemed deeply shocked by *something*.

"I am Legolas, son of King Thranduil, of North Mirkwood," Legolas replied. /Why is he looking at
me like that? Do I have something embarrassing on my face?/ "And you are...?"

"Haldir," came the reply as the grey-clad Elf shook himself loose of his dazed state. "Will you
share our talan with my brothers and I, Legolas?"(1)

Still somewhat confused, Legolas hesitated a long moment before nodding his acceptance. "Yes,
thank you."



It was a while before everyone was settled to their satisfaction, as nearly everyone in the
Fellowship was uneasy about sleeping high in a tree on the railless platforms.

Legolas sat on one of the platforms with Haldir and his brothers Rumail and Orophin, who spoke
together in hushed whispers, casting the occasional disbelieving stare at the golden-haired
Mirkwood Elf.

All at once, the tension in him crested, broke free.

"What?" he hissed at the trio.

"Legolas?" Haldir asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Why are you staring at me like that?" came the reply.

"Like what?"

A hissed sigh. "Like as if I had turned blue and grown three extra heads."

Haldir and his brothers shared a glance. "You do not know?" he asked at last.

Legolas closed his eyes and counted to ten. Again. And once again, in Quenya this time, for
variety. Then he opened his eyes and glared. "No," he hissed from between clenched teeth.

The grey-clad trio exchanged another glance. "I do not think that we should tell you," Haldir
said at last. "If you sense nothing different, it is possible that we are mistaken." He looked
relieved. "Surely it would be impossible anyway, and yet..." He shook his head. "It has been
long and long again since any of our northern kin have come to us, and a Prince beside... we must
be mistaken. And if we are not, surely the Lady will see and speak to you of it."

"But you shall not," Legolas said flatly. /What are they speaking of?/ he wondered. /It is
something in me, something I should be able to sense... bah! There is naught ill with me. I
feel more well inside than I have for a long time, even with the loss of Mithrandir. Feeling
well is hardly something to worry about./

"No," Haldir confirmed.

"So be it," Legolas said. He turned away from the three Galadhrim, cast himself down on the
talan to rest and spoke no more to them that night.



The next morning, Haldir led the Fellowship into the Wood until at last they came to the city of
the Galadhrim, where dwelt the Lord and Lady of the Wood.

They arrived in the evening and were led to a recieving hall where they were met by the rulers of
Lothlorien.

The Lord Celeborn sat on his high seat, watching quietly as the Lady Galadriel gracefully greeted
each of their guests in turn, calling them by name and offering them the hospitality of the Elves.

Last to be greeted was Legolas.

"Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil of Mirkwood," she said as she turned to face him. "Be
welcome in Loth-" she broke off, staring. She looked him over from head to toe, her face paling
even as her eyes grew wide and dark with shock. She reached out a trembling hand to touch his
face, withdrew it as though burned by even that light touch. "What have you done?" she breathed.
"How is this possible?"

"Dearest one?" Celeborn asked in concern, rising and moving to Galadriel's side. "What is it?"

Legolas was staring at her, confused and a bit worried. /What is it about me that upsets them
so?/ he wondered. /First Haldir and his brothers, now the Lady Galadriel. What is it?/

"Legolas?" It was Aragorn.

The Mirkwood Elf looked over, saw the other seven of the Fellowship staring at him in confusion.
"What?"

"What is she talking about? What did you do?"

/One. Two. Three./ A deep breath. Another. /Four. Five. Six.../

"I do not know," Legolas said. "They tell me not."

"You do not know?" came Galadreil's incredulous voice.

Legolas turned back to her in frustration. "No."

"Legolas," she said, going even paler as she watched him. "I know not how such a thing was
accomplished; it should be impossible. But apparently you are proof that that belief is wrong."

"What belief?" he asked, barely managing to keep his frustration-filled voice level. "Lady,
please. tell me."

Galadriel clasped her Lord's hand, leaned toward him for support. "Legolas," she said. "Your
inner light is so strong. It is on;y ever seen this strong in those Elves who are with child.
Legolas, you are pregnant."

Legolas burst out laughing. /Surely they do not believe that!/ he thought. Then he noticed that
no one else was laughing. His laughter trailed off and he looked around.

The members of the Fellowship were staring at him in shocked disbelief. The Elves were staring
at him in shocked awe. He swallowed hard. /They do not believe that... do they?/

"Lady?" he asked, shocked to hear his own voice crack and tremble. "Lady, surely there is some
sort of mistake...." She was already shaking her head in negation even as he continued. "I am
not pr-... I *can not* be pr-... I'm male! I.... You.... But, I *can't*..."

Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, son of King Thranduil, collapsed unconscious to the floor
of the recieving chamber.

TBC...

(1)talan= the grey-elven word for those platforms in the mallorn trees.

Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Part 5

There was no long, gradual rise from the black unconsciousness to full awareness. It was as
abrupt as long years of training could make it, knowing that one day that small time could mean
the difference between life and death. One instant he was oblivious to the world, the next, he
was blinking up at the pale ceiling above him, fully awake and alert.

He frowned slightly, lying still upon the floor as he tried to remember what had been so shocking
that he'd passed out. Galadriel. It was something *she* had said, he knew it was.

Then full memory came surging back and he gasped in shock. Galadriel's revelation, then the
realization....

A curly-haired head came into view above him, looking down at him in concern. The hobbit- Merry-
smiled to see him conscious, then turned his head to someone else and called, "hey! He's awake!"

Two more hobbits- Frodo and Pippin- joined Merry in staring down at him. Over their shoulders,
he could see Boromir and Gimli standing over him as well.

"Are you all right?" Frodo asked in concern.

"I am fine, Frodo," he assured, smiling faintly. "And Legolas?"

"He hit the floor almost exactly when you did, Strider," Pippin said. "He's not awake yet."

Aragorn rose to his feet, shook his head to clear the last cobwebs of unconsciousness, then went
over to where Legolas lay on the floor, being attended by Sam and a trio of grey-clad Galadhrim
as Celeborn and Galadriel looked on.

Seeing the Prince of Mirkwood brought home exactly what had happened.

Legolas was pregnant. It was crazy, it was impossible... it was happening now. And it was his
fault.

He was the father. Well, *a* father, since Legolas didn't really seem a *mother* exactly, child
or no child. The simple fact remained that somehow, no matter that it was impossible, no matter
that it was contrary to the nature of Elves and Men, he had gotten Legolas pregnant.

He hadn't meant to; Legolas was his friend, only that. Who would have thought that what was only
meant to be an exchange of comfort between friends in a dark place would have such impossible
consequences? Neither Aragorn nor Legolas had ever seen each other as a possible mate, and would
laugh at the concept even now... though there would have to be something done to even the debt
between them.

And speaking of consequences... Arwen was going to *kill* him when she found out! And if *she*
didn't, chances are Elrond or his sons would be angry enough to do it for her, to say nothing of
Legolas' father, King Thranduil of North Mirkwood!

Of course, that was all assuming that *Legolas* wouldn't kill him once he regained consciousness,
which was entirely possible. Likely, even.

Suddenly, the world was a lot more dangerous for a Ranger named Aragorn. He was glad then that
he was only going to Mordor to face the Dark Lord, absolute evil embodied, instead of having to
face Legolas' father....

Legolas made a faint sound, blinked open eyes that had been unnaturally closed with
unconsciousness. A faint frown wrinkled the smooth brow as the Elf tried to recall why he was
lying on the floor of the recieving chamber. Emerald eyes widened as he, too, remembered
Galadriel's revelation. Legolas sat up, head turning to stare in Aragorn's direction, confusion,
fear and anger flashing in the Elf's green eyes. "*You*," was all he said.

Aragorn gulped. "Yes, Legolas?" he asked faintly.

"First, I want to speak with the Lady Galadriel," the Elf said, standing. "*Then* you and I are
going to have a Talk."

"Talk?" Aragorn repeated. /I hope by 'talk' he means 'we'll have civilized conversation' instead
of 'I'm going to rip your still-beating heart out and eat it'./ he thought.

"Talk," Legolas said firmly. Then he and the Lady Galadriel left the chamber, making their way
down to the ground and to Galadriel's secret clearing.

Aragorn watched the two leave, barely able to keep back the urge to run away as fast as he could.
He looked to Frodo and made himself remember his oath to see this Quest through to its conclusion.
He *couldn't* abandon the Fellowship.

Celeborn invited the remaining companions to return to the ground and to a pavilion that had been
set up for them. Food would be brought to them there, and they would have the opportunity to
rest and refresh themselves.

Aragorn followed numbly after the others, then lay listless and unsleeping on one of the couches
in the pavilion, waiting in apprehension for Legolas to return for their 'Talk'.



Several hours had passed before Mirkwood's Prince made his appearance. Completely ignoring
Aragorn, he went and served himself a late supper, ate it. Then he went over to an unoccupied
couch and lay down.

"Go to sleep, Aragorn," he said as he drifted off. "We'll talk in the morning."

Aragorn lay on his couch sleeplessly for a long time before drifting off. But his sleep was
broken and fragmented and he got not much rest that night.

Legolas slept... like a baby.

TBC...

*****
Through the Dark
by SkyFire

Part 6

The Fellowship awoke the next morning on their first full day in the capital city of Lothlorien.
They shared a quiet breakfast, then Legolas gave Aragorn a pointed Look and gestured for him to
follow.

With a sigh, Aragorn followed the Elf from the clearing. He had barely gotten any sleep the
night before, apprehension running through him, and was still very tired. His eyes were gritty
with the need for sleep and his step was hesitant. The one stretch of trues sleep he'd gotten
had been filled with nightmares about the probable reactions of not only Legolas' father, but
also his foster family and betrothed. He was certain that Elrond and his sons would be
practically rabid when they found out what Aragorn had somehow managed to do, and Arwen! Aragorn
winced away from the thought. He didn't even want to *imagine* what *her* reaction would be!



The other members of the Fellowship watched as Aragorn followed Legolas out of the clearing and
into the woods of Lorien.

Merry turned to Pippin. "Can you imagine what Legolas is going to look like, pregnant?" he asked,
smirking. "Can you even imagine him *pregnant* to start with?"

"No," Pippin answered. "But he is anyway, hey?"

"Galadriel said so. I wonder how he got himself pregnant."

"I dunno. I just hope it isn't contagious. Did you see how he just went white and keeled over
when she told him? One second he's fine, the next, bam! Out like a light."

"Yup. Strider, too. The thought of Legolas pregnant must've been too much for him; he's been
really stressed since Gandalf died. Who do you think is the father?"

"Legolas, idiot!"

"No, I mean the other one," Merry said, lightly hitting his cousin upside the head. "I don't
think Legolas did this to himself!"

"Oh," Pippin said. "Well, it's not me."

"Me, either."

"Boromir?" Pippin suggested.

"No," Merry said. "He won't even *talk* to Legolas since the Elf told him off in front of the
Council in Rivendell."

"Oh, yeah. Well, he *was* picking on Strider, so I guess he deserved it. Umm, let's see. You,
me, Boromir. Sam? He likes Elves."

"He's glued to Frodo. It can't be him. Frodo?" Merry said.

"No, same reason. Who's left? Gimli?"

The two looked to each other, remembering all the petty fights between dwarf and Elf. They burst
out laughing.

"Okay, not Gimli," Pippin said, still chuckling at the image. "Strider? He grew up in Rivendell
with Elves."

"C'mon, Pip," Merry said. "Strider? I mean sure he acts like an Elf sometimes, walks quiet like
one, likes the same things, thinks like them and is going to marry one, but really now. Strider?"

"Well, he *did* keel over when the Lady told Legolas-"

"So? I almost did, too. And I saw you turn green, so you can't say *you* didn't almost hit the
floor as well."

"You've got a point. But why did Legolas want to talk speak with him so urgently today, then?
Poor Strider didn't look too well, either."

"Pip, Strider knows healing-stuff, remember? Legolas probably just wants to get checked over."

"Good point," Pippin said. "Guess this means we know who the father is, hmm? Poor Legolas must
be so sad."

"Yeah."

"What are you two going on about over here?" Gimli asked with his usual tact.

"We figured out who's the other father of Legolas' kid," Merry said.

The rest of the Fellowship, except for the absent Elf and Ranger, gathered close to hear the two
hobbits' guess.

"Who?" Gimli asked.

Merry and Pippin shared a glance, nodded sadly.

"Gandalf," they said.

END PART 6
TBC...