I hear him in the night. I can sense the distress around him as he struggles quietly against an invisible enemy. Even in his sleep he finds no peace, no salvation against the horrible responsibility that has begun to consume him. He doesn't thrash, nor does he whimper against his foes in his dreams. Even then he is strong. I feel his anger, and his, yes, his fear. Nay, he doesn't fear for himself. No, Aragorn is not a Man that would fear for his life. I see he is strong, and not afraid to die. He doesn't possess the selfishness that most Men I have had unpleasantly met in my long life. He is afraid, not of his life, but of failing. Failing others. Failing his mission and failing his friends. Most definitely his friends he fears of failing. I feel it, see it in his eyes. See it when an arrow comes too close Frodo or Sam or any of our small party that has been named the Fellowship. See the fear when a sword or axe of an Orc comes mere inches to one of them, even to me. He is afraid. Yes, this brave Man that is not afraid to die, is afraid to let others down.

His fingers twitch, and his eyes flash open. Sweat drips down his neck; his breathing labored. Confusion lingers in his auburn eyes, searching... for what I don't know. He relaxes against the tree, telling himself it was only a dream. That there is no danger... at least for the moment. It was then that he looks up at the large tree where I stood, my hand up against thick branch, preventing me from falling. Although it is complete darkness, I see him clearly. I see his eyes searching the tree, maybe searching for me. He senses me or maybe he hears me I do not know; he cannot see me for that I am sure.

"Legolas." His voice his quite, tired.

I leap down, silent, as I had been taught and walk toward him.

"Yes, my Friend." It isn't a question. I kneel down toward him, resting my back against his tree. He sideways glances at me, curiously.

"You have not rested?" he asks.

I feel one side of my mouth curl in a smile, even though I know he cannot see it. "I am fine. I do not need sleep."

"That not what I asked. It is good to rest the mind, we need you at your keenest in the days to come." My smile falls from my face. "That is good advice that you speak. We also need you to rest." He doesn't look at me, only stares blankly into the night. "I sleep." Is all he says. He is tired, tired in body yes, but more tired in the mind.

I look away. "Something is troubling you my Friend. I hear you, in the night. Struggling against enemies that are only real in your mind. You sleep yes, but you do not rest."

Still he is silent. Worry seeps into my mind. "Aragorn..." I finally say his name, it seems foreign on my tongue. He is shivering, but it is not cold. "Aragorn..." I say again, as if trying to wake him from a spell.

"I cannot do this Legolas." He says at last. "I cannot..." He takes a shaky breath, and finally looks at me. "I can't fail you, or the others, like I have Gandolf. I..." He stops and looks away.

I feel the pain in my chest, his pain. His grief.

"It was not your fault Aragorn." Such pathetic words, taste bitter on my tongue. I place a hand on his shoulder, expecting him to brush it off. He does not.

"I am tired Legolas." Is all he says, he looks at me, eyes so close to mine, yet so far away. He turns away suddenly.

My hand slides to his face, turning his head towards mine. "Than rest, Aragorn." I whisper, my lips gently brushing over his. I pull back and he flinches, ever so slightly, eyes desperately searching mine. I am ashamed suddenly, as the Evenstar Lady Arwen gave him, gleams so brightly in the night. I am about to pull away, to leave, when he leans forward, cautiously, capturing my lips. It is gentle, surprisingly so. I do not respond to the kiss. He stops, pulling away, ashamed himself maybe. Guilt seeps into my heart and mind. It was I that initiated it, and then I do not respond to his touch? He pulls away further, the shivering starts again. I touch his arm, and it he flinches slightly.

"Aragorn.... my Friend..." Pathetic words I say again, yet I cannot stop. "I cannot..." I touch his Evenstar, and this time it is I that search desperately into his eyes. Searching for understanding, for him to see that I do want, but cannot. "I must stay true to my kin... to Arwen's wishes." I release the Evenstar, such a brilliant jewel gleaming in the night. "She made the ultimate sacrifice to you... she gave you her life...Aragorn."

He nods slowly, eyes downcast. "I understand." He whispers, his eyes slowing coming to meet my own. Pain again, such pain I feel. Both his and mine, so painful I cannot tell who's is who's. "You would not give me your life... you would not make that sacrifice."

My eyes darken with grief as I stand. "Aragorn... it's not that I wouldn't..." I pause, does he not even have the guts to look at me? "It is that I am too late." His head whips up, eyes wide with shock. I cannot bare it, I turn around, I run silently into the night.