Summary: In another place, world, and time, an elf prince awakens to find the world he had known is gone and he is alone. Or is he truly? (Hagrid/ Read to see) Yaoi. M-Preg later.

THE LITTLE PIECES OF FACT WITHIN THE LEGEND… Prologue

The King placed a tanned, dark hand on that of the pale, still, and blonde elf on the bed, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at the barely-breathing form of his friend and soon one hot tear was running down his cheek. He was not shedding as many tears as he had when his mortal elf wife had died only a year before, but this elf had been a dear friend and bodyguard. He couldn’t imagine his life without the elf teaching and guiding his young son in the arts of archery while making sure his King did not succumb to depression by making both father and son laugh at something when either wore a face that was far too serious even for the reserved elf.

The King cringed as he heard the elf take another struggling breath from the bed. For someone so sick, the blond elf was still angelically beautiful, an image that was greatly promoted by the light blue and silver color schemes of the chamber. A slight blush even existed on his cheeks and the beautiful smell of honeysuckle was being emitted from him. It was easy to pretend for a second that Legolas was only taking a nap rather than the reality of him being in a coma. The King warmed the unusually cold hand between his until he felt a gentle, familiar hand on his shoulder.

The King turned to see his adopted elf father and his deceased wife’s biological father standing behind him. “Do you know what it is?” King Aragon found himself almost screaming at the healer.

His adopted father tightened his hold on his shoulder and shook his head. “Unlike my beloved daughter, Prince Legolas never gave up his immortality. I cannot account for what is happening at all. There has not been a case like this in more than a millennia.”

The white wizard, Gandalf, had entered the room silently while the King was lost in his thoughts and when Aragon had turned back, the wizard was on the other side of Legolas’s bed as the elf let out another labored breath.

Before the King could greet him properly, the wizard was removing Legolas’s tunic before their eyes.

“What is the meaning of this Gandalf?” Aragon demanded hotly before the area Gandalf was examining caught his eye, then he was speechless.

Gandalf lifted his head and said, “His body is turning to ice. If I am to save him, I must work very quickly to save his life.”

Lord Elrond stepped closer to examine the blue crystals above Legolas’s heart with a gasp. “I have never seen anything like this before, my friend.”

“Neither have I, my lord, but I have been told of a similar case over ten thousand years ago involving a Mirkwood elf who had refused to mate. Bearers are meant to create life. When they have not done so after many years, their bodies can turn against them and take the bearer’s life in this manner.”

“Bearer?” both men gasped. Bearers were extremely rare, only one male elf in every two thousand years was built to bear children. For a few moments, there was silence.

“Can you save his life?” the King whispered.

Gandalf the White nodded, but there was a slight look about his face that said he was holding something from him.

Yet at the moment, King Aragon did not care. “Then do it,” he ordered.

Gandalf leaned over the beauty without hesitation and murmured something while placing his hands over Legolas’s forehead and heart. For a brief moment, there was golden light and then the gasping breaths stopped.

King Aragon stood in shock as his mind registered that the elf had ceased breathing at all and the blue mark was spreading rapidly over the far too still body of his friend. “LEGOLAS!” the King screamed as he threw himself across his chest and pressed his ear to his friend’s heart, trying to hear the small beating. Not hearing anything, he cursed and launched himself at the wizard and demanded, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

Gandalf sighed and calmly placed his hand on the angry and desperate King. “He is still alive, my friend. However, his body needs to heal. His breathing and body functions other than the lymphatic system have frozen to allow this…”

Lord Elrond looked down at the body of his friend with an expression of horror and then gasped when he realized what Gandalf’s spell had done. The gasp made his adopted son turn back to him and release his hold somewhat on the wizard. “My friend… that spell… this freezing of…”

“Father?” the King implored.

Brown eyes lifted to the man he called son and he said, “Legolas will not die, but we won’t be there when he recovers. Most ‘immortals’ do not even live that long, my son.”

“How long?”

“Thousands of years from now.”

PRESENT DAY

Legolas turned over on the hard surface he had fallen asleep on with a sigh, thinking he would open his eyes to find he had fallen asleep on one of the stone benches in the Great Hall of the palace and any moment a dark-haired child would be tugging on his long blonde hair for attention.

But as he breathed in deep, the smell of wood decaying and stale air made him think twice. As he opened his bronze eyes, he was startled to find he was in a stone room, surrounded by decaying objects that were barely recognizable as his personal possessions. He sat up quickly and involuntarily gasped at the sense of vertigo the sudden action caused him.

Where was he?

Rubbing his temples, he surveyed the room a little more and saw his precious bow and quiver rotting and brittle, leaning against the stone slab he had been laying on. A quick glance told him his clothes were torn and stretched in an extremely odd way, like the old clothes he put away many years ago and found many years after that he had to throw out. The only thing that had not aged was a pendant someone had placed around his neck that bore the symbol of the king. Was he in a tomb? Was he dead?

No. He couldn’t be. But, what is Vallor’s name had happened to him?

He was drawn out of his thoughts soon as he found himself gasping for fresh air before he sliding off the slab of stone, only to crumble as his legs protested their burden. Barely aware of what he was doing, he crawled to the exit and began pushing with all his might until it moved aside and light assaulted bronze eyes as the scent of unfamiliar yet somehow somewhat familiar forest plants assaulted his nose. His hands dug into what felt and smelled like rich soil.

The light was blinding and his body was aching as though he had not used a muscle in several weeks. The next thing the elf prince knew, he was falling into the bliss of a tired, dreamless sleep, unaware of the people and creatures who were approaching his sleeping place…

TBC