"That I do not know," Legolas admitted. "But I suspect that most of my kindred will make for the sea before very long. Lady Galadriel has been in Middle-earth and watched over Lothlórien since the First Age. Our time here is ending, that is what they say. And after such death and destruction and loss, perhaps it is time to go to the West." Such a thing to speak lightly about, going into the West, and the mere thought of it yet again made his heart clench, made something in his fair face grow shadowed, a terrible loss of his natural Elven light.
Then, his expression changed, growing pensive instead, something lightening. "And yet, it has all not happened yet, and might happen differently this time. Perhaps our time is not ending after all. At least, not yet. Certainly not mine. There is so much I must do -- all over again!" The last came with a little laugh, his natural cheer reasserting itself.