(Author Note: these will be used to designate the different language – “English”, “Sindarin”, “Quenya”, “Westron” and “Goa’uld”)

“This must be a hard world indeed for a man so young to know pain so completely,” Teal’c commented softly.

“He is 64 years old,” Pallando corrected him quietly, drawing stares from the rest of SG1. “He has had more than his share of pain; ridden to war, saw his father killed when he was a mere 2 years of age. He has also had much joy though; adopted and raised by elves after his father’s death, formed several strong friendships and saved more lives than anyone can count. He is one of the Dùnedain, a long lived race of humans. He is a healer, a warrior, a leader, a friend, a brother, a son.”

Sam looked at him, “And he has more nobility in his little finger than in all the so called nobility of our world.”

“Many would agree with you. He would not but anyone who knows him would,” Pallando agreed quietly before glancing over at her. “He probably left Jack at Imladris and returned to collect you, the time is consistent with an immediate turn around and he brought several of the spare horses from the Imladris stables. Probably ones trained to carry Dùnedain as the ones the elves ride never wear tack.”

“If Jack O’Neil survived the trip,” Teal’c noted.

“If he had not then Strider would have brought his body back with him. And Gandalf would have accompanied him,” Pallando stated, allowing himself to turn his gaze to the Ranger. They had convinced the man to sleep, though his rest was far from peaceful, but only after he had near cried himself to exhaustion.

Silence reigned for a few moments before Teal’c spoke again. “What are the customs of the elves when one of their number has fallen in battle?”

“I cannot tell you exactly, for I do not know. What I do know will happen is that Strider will transport Legolas’ body to Imladris, where his father will likely be sent for or his body will be escorted to Mirkwood by an Imladris honour guard.”

“I thought Imladris was a healer’s home,” Sam commented, mangling the pronunciation again.

“It is. It is also one of the Elven Realms; Elrond is the Lord of Imladris. Many elves live there, hidden and protected from the Shadow.”

“If it is hidden how does one find healing when it is needed?” Teal’c asked seriously.

“Elrond is not the only healer in Arda, but he is the best. The elves often patrol along the borders of Imladris; they find and guide any who need his care.”

They lapsed into silence again, this time broken by Sam.

“Janet will wish to travel with us to check on Jack, she is our doctor.”

“I am sure that will be acceptable, Lord Elrond will likely appreciate having someone he can give his instructions to.”

Silence fell then and a short while later the members of SG1 slipped away to take their own slumber, leaving the night to those assigned to stand watch, certain that the next day they would be setting out again.

---

The packing and readying of the horses was done in near absolute silence the next morning, the ranger not speaking and none of the members of SG1 wanted to intrude on the man’s private grief.

Having readied his own horse and the horses of those accompanying him Strider silently readied the horse that was to have born his gwador, and now would only bear the elf’s corpse on its last journey to Imladris. He turned to go collect the corpse and stopped with a gasp, drawing the attention of the others with him to the elf.

They spun towards where he lay, after all they’d seen and done half expecting to see the elf sitting up or standing. Instead underneath the cloak the still form of the elf pulsed with light. As they watched the light faded, along with the physical form of the elf, the cloak shifting down to lie flat on the ground with a soft sigh.

“Legolas!” Strider cried softly, running over to the cloak before falling to his knees.

Teal’c followed him silently, standing watch over him much like he had the previous day.

“Was that normal?” Daniel asked softly.

“No,” Alatar answered. “That was nowhere near normal.”

Daniel glanced at him then looked back at Strider as the man pushed himself back to his feet, the cloak held tightly in his hands. Slowly he made his way back to his horse and mounted it.

“Let us go,” he stated softly in a voice that sounded dead.

Janet and the three members of SG1 glanced at each other before mounting the horses prepared for them.

---

Glorfindel brought his bow up at the ready as he more sensed than heard someone approaching. Once he saw who it was he lowered his bow again.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in confusion.

“I think I took the long route.”

“What?” Glorfindel asked, wondering if it was him or was the one in front of him not making any sense.

The newcomer sighed. “Never mind. Do you have a cloak?”

“Why do you want a...” Glorfindel stopped as he took in everything about the other. “Oh! Uh...right here.” He quickly shed his cloak and handed it over.

“Hannon le.”