He sets his face against the insidious whispers:  It should be yours! It is rightfully yours... for he has sworn to protect the little folk, and a son of the House of Mardil will not break his oath.

But it comes to him in dreams; shows him the glittering armies he could lead to defeat the Dark Tower forever. He devours the visions, greedy for victory, hungering -

No!  He wrenches himself away, sobbing for breath. Do not torment me thus!

A steady hand on his shoulder.  "You dreamed, I think," Legolas says softly; and the illusion is shattered, for now.