I do not own anything, rights go to Tolkien and his amazing story we all know and love.

Thanks for reading

~Anastasia

Curious

The stars veiled above them, yet even with the bright dotted skies, hope and light still seemed waning. For surrounding each of the midnight lanterns was the dark abyss of black, misted over in a haze of gray; mingling of fog and smoke.

Twas one of the many nights that seemed to blur together in a collage of aches, pains, and dreary hearts that longed for a different scenery, a safer place, the calling of home.

This calling specifically effected that of four hobbits, and a man of Gondor. Boromir, restless with thoughts of home, decided to search the forest for more scraps of wood to feed the hearth. His mutterings of sorrow faded with distance.

Gandalf sat rigid upon a rock, a pipe set between fingers and lips as his thoughts swayed away from that of the present, mind searching for answers unseen.

The rest, save the fair elf, who stood upon a nearby hill, gazing afar beyond mortal's eyes, sat upon rock and log, telling of stories and poems between them, grasping at any word that may lighten the density that had befell upon them.

Pippin, ever the curious of the bunch, had asked of some of Aragorn's adventures. The ranger, though reluctant at first, had begun tales he recalled, one of when he had first encountered the beauty of Arwen Evenstar, another of several mishaps with his elven brothers.

Gimli the dwarf had soon joined the tides, telling the eager hobbits of mines filled of treasures that rose in mountains of gold, silver and jewels.

"Riches lay beneath the dirt of this world, shimmering of worth and value far beyond a King's wildest dreams." He told them, wistfully his expression turned as his mind wonder to caves and caverns deep. "Aye, laddies. One day, I shall show you such a place, and you will find nothing that can compare to the beauty of such gems."

"Mountains of gold?" Pippin wondered with a tilt of his head.

Merry, munching on a fraction of food, sat at the edge of his log with wide in-taking eyes. "I couldn't imagine such a sight..."

Aragorn withheld a smile at the small ones eagerness, biting into an apple with a crisp crunch.

Frodo, blue eyes thoughtful, had took on a look of recalling memories, and turned to the red bearded dwarf with a question on his lips. "Bilbo spoke of his adventure, and beholding the treasures of Erebor. Were you among those he traveled with Gimli?"

Gimli snuffed with a shake of his head. "No laddie, but my father was. Gloin accompanied the great Thorin to destroy the beast that lay beneath his Mountain. Tis a tale all dwarves know."

The youngest hobbit gave a sigh as he leaned back on the bark of his log, furry feet stretched out in front of him as his chin tilted to the sky. "Wow. You have all been on so many adventures, and already faced so many trials. It makes life in the Shire seem so simple."

"That's because it is, Pip," Merry chortled quietly.

Gimli puffed his chest out in pride, boastfully he thumped his chest. "Aye, the hardships of my kin is what gives me courage. I am proud to be of such noble descendants."

Sam, having been so quiet, finally spoke. "What of the elves?"

Aragorn stifled a laugh as the dwarf's smug expression turned sour at the mention of his races' rivals. The gardener, upon realizing this, blushed sheepishly as he looked down to the hands clasped in his lap.

"I mean...just curious is all. In the Shire, we hear so many stories of men, dwarves and elves, yet we never learned if there's any truth to those tales." The hobbit continued his rambling. "And while I have seen them first hand, I have yet to see any in battle."

Gimli huffed, crossing his arms as he frowned. "There is nothing good to be said about elves, laddie. Anything good you've heard is false, we dwarves know this well."

All four hobbits once again indulged themselves with the dwarves words as he began his rant. "The elves in Rivendell, the ones you've met, while they act all wise and important, they live as though this world is punishment. All wait for their call to sail away and be rid of us 'filthier' species."

Several of the listeners frowned. This was not what they had thought nor heard of the elves at all, yet they continued to hear out his words.

"And those of Lothlorien, they reside beneath the power of an elf-witch, a sorcerer who can spin images into your mind and twist your sanity!"

Aragorn stiffened, sensing that if this continued, things may end with tension.

"But the worst, the worst is the elves of the sick woods. Mirkwood! For they are not wise, no indeed, these are dangerous. They harbor themselves within the darkness that surrounds the limbs of their homes, and care not for anyone besides themselves!"

"Gimli..." The ranger warned.

"Dancing in the boughs, they watch as everyone else suffers, those selfish pointy eared..."

"Gimli!"

The dwarf stopped his rage, noticing that he was now receiving a hard look from the man beside him, and that the hobbits now stared wide eyed at what appeared to be above his head.

"And pray tell me, dwarf. What else of the Mirkwood elves?"

The tone was soft, floating like, and sweet to the ear, yet an edge of danger was heard beneath the honeyed words. Gimli stiffened in his seat as the elf walked into his view and now stood near an empty log, his tall figure casting a long shadow that danced in the flames light.

All watched his still face with bated breath, the hobbits scared for what was to come.

Yet instead of battled threats, a smile twitched at his lips.

Legolas turned to the hobbits politely, crossing his arms as he met each and everyone of their gazes. "I am willing to answer questions of my own, if you so please. For I believe I obtain more knowledge to my own species than someone who merely thinks they know of my kin."

Gimli grumbled, and sulked in his spot, glaring at the elf who simply smirked back.

Pippin once again, arose with questions. Sitting up, he looked hopefully towards the blonde. "Is it true you have the eye sight of eagles?"

Legolas nodded, "aye, our sight can stretch farther than a mortals."

"What of your age?" Merry asked. "Will you live forever?"

The prince answered pronouncedly. "That is unknown, for an elf can be slain in battle, or fade from grief. If neither happen in the centuries of their life, they will eventually sail to the Undying Lands, back to our home beyond the sea. I myself, am two-thousand nine-hundred and thirty-one winters. "

A pregnant silence came over the fellowship as the four hobbits gaped. Aragorn, pulling out a pipe of his own, chuckled at their reactions, and even caught sight of Gimli's transparent shock turn on his face.

"Y-you're that old?"

Legolas smiled at Sam, nodding. "Yes Master hobbit. And I remain very young amongst my kin."

While the three younger hobbits continued to marvel at this new revelation, Frodo blinked his blue eyes curiously.

"What of your homeland?"

The smile dropped from the fair elf's face. He sent a hard glance to the shuffling dwarf before turning to the ring bearer with a response. "I hail from Mirkwood. My father is Thranduil."

Aragorn's eyes crinkled in a smug smile. "I believe there is more to be told of your father, mellon nin."

The fellowship's eyes flickered between the man and elf, as Legolas sent the ranger an indignant look.

Pippin spoke his confusion as he furrowed his brows. "What does he mean?"

Reluctantly, the blonde explained. "He means to say that I have spared you details in my tellings. My father is rather King Thranduillian of the Woodland Realm."

Once again, bafflement appeared on the halfings' features.

Sam sat straight up, brown eyes at disc size. "Then you are a Prince?"

"Aye."

Frodo shook his head. "What is it that you and Strider both hide your true status?"

Aragorn looked intensely towards the short brunette. "Tis safer that way."

A silence settled between them as the fire continued to eat the wood into ash. After another pause, Aragorn put out his pipe and turned to the hobbits with a directive look. "I believe it is time for us to gain some rest. We continue the long trek at sunrise."

Without complaint, one by one they lay down and shifted to more comfortable positions. Legolas looked to his friend and nodded his head. "I will be off for a moment to speak to the trees. When I return, I will take watch for the night."

Aragorn consented as his friend ventured into the woods, just as Boromir returned with an armful of branches and twigs as he flopped down near the fire.

Pippin abruptly sat up and turned to Strider with notice. "Strider...did Legolas just say he was going to speak to..."

Estel interrupted his thought with a shake of his head. "That is for another time, young one. Now, sleep."

Disappointed, the young hobbit obliged to the order and lay next to his cousin for comfort.

Aragorn shook his head once more with a smile. No doubt Legolas would have many more questions to answer when the sun rose at dawn.