Legolas tugged his blue vest down. 'What a strange uniform,' he remarked.

Boromir shrugged. 'Numbers likes vests.'

'Mr. Smith is a very original man, is he not?'

'Yes, very. But I like him.'

Legolas turned to face Boromir; he had always thought that he looked very odd in his bartender's outfit, with his black pants, white shirt, and vivid blue vest with a flashing row of golden buttons; but now, he probably looked equally ridiculous.

'Are you ready?' he asked the man.

Boromir nodded. 'Let's go.'

Legolas walked with him in silence to 9 Numbers, lost in his own thoughts. Boromir still made him nervous, even though his pleading apology that morning had been real, his affirmation that he did not really believe that it was right to take the ring had seemed genuine, but there was still something about him that he couldn't trust.

They walked into the bar together; it was warm and dark, like a dragon's lair, filled with strange pieces of art, and ceramic statues of the nine digits standing proudly in prominent places. Legolas looked the customers over carefully. There were only a few of them, talking and laughing with each other, getting ready to leave. The door opened behind them and a slim brunette walked in, dressed in the bar's uniform.

'Hi, Derek,' she said, with half a smile, setting down a black handbag.

'Hello, Alice,' Boromir greeted her. 'I'd like you to meet my friend, Edel.'

The girl smiled at him and held out her hand. 'Alice Turner.'

Legolas shook her hand gently. 'Edel Greenleaf.'

'You're working here now?'

'Yes.'

'It can be fun,' she said. 'Excuse me.' She hurried into the 'lady's room'.

Mr. Smith strolled up, Sudoku in hand. He glanced Legolas over. 'Good, good, you look just fine.' he decided. '9 or 4, which, oh which? Do a good job.'

Legolas nodded. 'I will try my best.'

Mr. Smith spoke quickly to the day bartender getting ready to leave, and then disappeared into the back.

Boromir took his place behind the counter. Legolas was surprised to see how well he seemed to fit there, as if he somehow belonged.

Alice Turner walked out of the restroom, her face seemed changed, the colours were more vivid and there was a brush of green over her eyes. Cosmetics he realized.

'You know what to do?' she asked, perhaps reading the uncertainty on his face.

'Yes, I'm fine,' he assured her.

A small group of middle-age men walked in, their faces red, their voices scratchy.

'Great,' muttered Alice. 'Want to take them?' she asked the elf.

Legolas could tell that she hadn't had the best experiences with older men. She was far too pretty. 'Fine.' He stepped forward. 'Would you like a table or would you rather sit at the bar?' he asked.

'A table would be fine,' said one.

'Follow me.' He led them to a table and watched as they seated themselves. They gave their orders quickly, and Legolas brought them to Boromir. It all seemed easy enough. The first hour passed quite easily, things didn't really pick up till 5:00.

That hour was a busy, rushing blur, filled with orders and tables and strange faces that rushed past him in a dizzying whirl. There was no rest and no relief until 6:30 when things slowed down a little.

Boromir grinned at Legolas. 'How are you holding up, Greenleaf?'

'I'm quite fine, thank-you very much. And yourself?'

Boromir shook his head. 'Alice, don't you just hate Fridays?'

'Mmm, I don't know, I don't always mind crowds. They can sometimes be quite fun.'

How does Boromir get away with acting so used to all this? Anyone would think he had been a bartender for years.

'It's going to get noisy soon,' Boromir announced.

She nodded. 'Yep. I don't know how just the three of us are going to pull this off.'

'Numbers doesn't like to hire a lot of people,' said Boromir.

She shook her head. 'No, I don't think he does.'

The next rush didn't seem to end. Legolas found himself busy trying to keep up with a thousand orders, dodge drunk people, and keep stray hands off himself all at the same time. The clock seemed somehow to drag and fly simultaneously.

'Here's your screwdriver, miss.' He set the glass down at a table in front of a young blonde who was laughing loudly at a joke that a blue haired man had just told. She took a gulp and smiled at him. 'Hello, handsome.'

'You're welcome,' he stammered and turned hurriedly away, promptly colliding with a pale-faced man. 'So sorry, sir,' he apologized.

The pale man grumbled something, then stopped and gave the elf a strange look from under his heavy lids. 'It's quite all right, no harm done,' he murmured, taking a step back.

Legolas bowed his head quickly, and rushed away, but something about that man hung in his mind. He disturbed him.

'Boromir, do you see that strange man over there?'

'I'm Derek. And what about him?'

'Doesn't he strike you as odd?'

'Lots of people here strike me as odd, but that doesn't mean I have to stare at them.'

'He's staring at me,' Legolas protested.

'So are lots of people, and not all have the cleanest minds, if I know anything about humans.'

'What are you saying?'

'Just ignore it, it's not going to wreck your life to run across a strange person every now and again.'

'But there is something disturbing about that man.' Legolas looked back over at the man, who was watching him with dim, intent eyes.

'That creep?' asked Alice, nodding at him. 'We get people like that occasionally. He's probably a druggy.' She shrugged and turned to Boromir. 'I need six beers.'

Hours passed, but the pale man did not leave. He would order a drink and take it slowly, without a trace of enjoyment on his ghastly face, and then order another and finish that one of with the same persistent sloth. His sunken eyes scarcely left Legolas, he only looked away when the Elf turned to him, and even then, Legolas could still feel his thoughts following him.

Finally, the clock struck 12:00. Boromir smiled in relief. The bar was loud and the people crazy, Legolas was glad to leave. The pale man watched him as he walked out the door, a faint scowl on his bleached lips.

'Uh, that was rough,' said Boromir, stretching a bit.

Legolas nodded. 'Is it like that every night?'

'Friday and Saturday nights are the worst, I've been told.'

The din of the place still rung in the elf's ears. He was used to parties and noise, but nothing so loud and uncivilized as what he had just been through.

'I wasn't expecting that,' said Boromir after a moment. 'I didn't think it would be so…base.'

The June air was warm again, warm and sticky, there was a certain amount of tension hanging in it, but Legolas couldn't pin it. Perhaps it was the left over fear that the man had given him. What had he wanted and why had he stared? Who was he? And why did he not feel safe?

'You okay?' Boromir asked.

'Yes, I'm…' he broke off as he caught a glimpse of the pale man's reflection in a dark window.

'He's following us.'

'Who?'

'The man I pointed out to you. The one who disturbed me.'

'And he's following us? Are you sure?'

'I saw him in that window. I swear I did.'

'Is he armed?'

'I don't know.'

'What do you think he wants?'

'I don't know, Boromir, but he's still there.'

'If he isn't armed, we could deal with him.'

'But what if he is?'

'I don't think we should take that chance. Let's lose him.'

'How?'

'Follow me.'

Boromir hurried them along the streets, turning this way and that with no clear purpose. The city grew strange about them, and the air cooler, and still he followed.

'Boromir, he's still there.'

'I know, this isn't working,' said Boromir, coming to a halt, breathless. 'He's fast for such an unhealthy looking wretch.'

'There is something wrong about him.'

'Alice suggested drugs. Who knows? Could be.' He shook his head. 'This is such a mixed-up world.'

They started to run again, faster this time. The strange man trailed them as best he could, but when they stopped again, there was no sign of him.

'I think we lost him,' said Boromir.

The elf looked around again. Nothing. 'Probably.'

A cool breeze wrapped around them. 'Where are we, Boromir? I've never been to this part of the city before.'

'We're near the bay,' answered Boromir.

'The sea?' The elf's eyes shone brightly.

Boromir nodded. 'Wait, you aren't supposed to be near the sea, are you?'

'Let's go see it.'

'Why is it that every time you're out at night, you want to go see something? Last night it was a tree, tonight the ocean.'

'Come, let us go.' Legolas could taste the salt on the air.

'No, I don't think that's a good idea. We should just be glad it's night time and there are no stray gulls flying about.'

'Has Aragorn been teaching you about Elves?'

'Yes, and he told me to keep you away from the ocean.'

Legolas smiled mysteriously at him, and then broke into a run. Boromir took chase, but the elf was faster.

Legolas sped towards the sea, he could feel where it was; it was drawing him. Boromir was chasing him, calling out to him to halt, but he cared little for what Boromir told him; the sea had a far greater command. He ran as the city flew past him, buildings and people blurring into a formless grey, until it seemed that he ran through nothing with fear behind him and hope ahead. His feet barely touched the pavement, he could no longer feel the hard city or smell its stench; the only thing real to him was the overwhelming urge of the ocean. It was everything.

He fell. The pavement slipped beneath him; he was floating, falling; the ground was hard. The skin on his hands was cut, his pants and knees torn, his head hit the pavement with a smack. He staggered up, ignoring his pain. It lay before him.

The sea was so quiet. It seemed to be lapping in submission, rocking the boats gently, with no complaints. It seemed not to care that it was dirty and trashed, the dumping ground for toxins and garbage. It rocked itself smoothly, without a complaint, seeming to hum itself a lullaby. There was no anger in the waves, no passion. It was not what he had imagined.

'Legolas.' It was Boromir, he had caught up with him; he was standing behind him concerned.

The sea. He studied it; it had been polluted, degraded, had lost respect, did it now listen to men? Could it? Had they controlled the sea like they controlled light and sound and speed and time? Was it theirs now and had he no part?

'Legolas.' Boromir was worried about him. He was touching the gash on his head, putting his arm about him, trying to pull him away, but he would not go.

The sea lay so still.

Tell me, can you take me to Valinor?

It gave no reply.

'Legolas, we should go.' Boromir's words had an edge of fear to them; he did not understand Elves, and they frightened him.

The sea swayed a little, lashing out on the piers, rising and swelling with a sort of pride that could never be oppressed or brought down. No, men did not own it; the sea was still free and still proud, it owned itself and his every hope. I have not seen one of you for quite some time now, it seemed to say to him, laughing a little. Have you come to risk yourself on my waves for an Elven hope of peace and joy? Do you want to join your people? I am the only way, take me, if you dare, but I cannot be responsible for the grief I cause, do not blame me, if you cannot reach them.

He stood in awe of it. I cannot take my flight now; I have friends with whom I must stay.

Ah, but don't you want to? You would gladly risk everything to take a little boat and play upon my waves. Valinor is calling you.

But I cannot go.

Come.

I must stay.

Come.

I cannot leave them.

Come.

I have duties.

Come.

I am bound to my words.

Come.

I cannot be disloyal.

Come.

They are my friends; I will not abandon them.

Come.

I love Aragorn, and I will not leave him.

'Legolas, answer me!' Boromir's words suddenly came through to him again; they were desperate and agitated.

He stirred. 'What is it, Boromir?'

'What is happening to you? Why aren't you speaking to me?'

'I was speaking to the sea.'

'The sea has no voice.' He held the elf's arm tightly as if he were afraid he would lose his mind and throw himself into the waves.

'None, perhaps, that you can hear, Son of Gondor. Come, we must return, the night grows old.'

Boromir looked even more bewildered. 'You are just going to walk away?'

The elf laughed ruefully. 'What else would I do? Drown myself? Nay, Boromir, I cannot leave the earth now, I have promises to fulfill.'