A/N: Set after the events of "Lord of the Rings" when Legolas and Gimli are adventuring across Middle Earth. This is mostly a "feel good" fic, light on the plot, heavy on appreciation of Legolas. Enjoy! :)

Legolas stood with his back against a tree, listening to the wind sigh amongst the boughs and watched the scattered clouds flow across the moon. The voice of Fanghorn forest was varied and ever changing. In the past few days that he and his companion Gimli had traveled through it, he had only now begun to understand its vast complexity.

At his feet, Gimli the dwarf muttered in his sleep. Legolas looked down at his friend and a faint smile touched his lips. A friendship between dwarf and elf was unheard of. But he loved the stouthearted dwarf as a brother and found his stubbornness and tenacity both admirable and amusing. That he had convinced the dwarf to travel with him into Fanghorn was a testament to the dwarf's courage, for Legolas knew him to be afraid of the forest.

Legolas himself had promised to travel once again to Helm's Deep with his friend to view the caverns within, a prospect that he did not relish. For he hated the thought of being enclosed in the ground with no wind to touch his face. But perhaps Gimli's enthusiasm would infect him and he could come to appreciate it as the dwarf did. But for now, he listened with contentment and interest to the old forest around him.

The clouds parted once again and a small shaft of moonlight shown down on Legolas giving his fair hair a silver sheen and making his skin glow with an inner light. Wind tossed his hair across his shoulders and he closed his eyes, listening to the night sounds around him.

He opened his eyes again though when a new sound reached his ears. Far beyond the forest, out on the grassy plains came a hissing sound like the whisper of many voices.

Legolas furrowed his brow and stepped cautiously to a clearing where he could look out from under the canopy of trees toward the southwest. A mist moved in the darkness, tumbling across the ground like a marching army, yet no shapes were visible within.

Puzzled by this strange apparition, Legolas crept to the edge of the trees and strained to see across the plains into the coming darkness. That he could make nothing out in the traveling mist troubled him greatly, for he had the exceptional eyesight of his people and could usually see well in the dark.

As the mist grew nearer, sweeping across the grass like a low flying cloud, Legolas thought he heard voices with in it.

Voices and screams of pain.

And as it tumbled along the ground, it seemed to change course and come straight toward him.

Nervously, Legolas stepped back within the shadows of Fanghorn. Whatever devilry this was he didn't wish it to take his friend Gimli by surprise. Until they knew what they were up against, it would be safer for them to move further into the forest and let the shadows of the trees hide them.

Stealthily he crept back to Gimli's sleeping form and started to touch his friend's shoulder. But even as he reached out his hand, the mist suddenly swirled around him.

Screams of torment and death surrounded him. Blinding darkness assailed him. Before he could straighten and reach for his bow, a chill such as he'd never known before descended on him, causing him to double over in pain and cold.

He gasped his friend's name and through the tumultuous din thought he heard Gimli's roar of surprise. Then it was replaced by the snarl of Orcs and Legolas knew no more.