I dont own LOTR

Chapter 2 – Legolas POV

As I arrived at Imladris it was pouring with rain. Cold rain. Not that it bothered me that much, as, like all of my kind I wasn't really affected by the elements. I really wasn't looking forward to entering the last homely house, and on any other occasion, I might have considered lingering in the forest for a while more. The discomfort of my drenched clothes sticking to my body propelled me forward however.

It had been about fifty years since my last visit to Rivendell, and usually I would be overjoyed at the thought of seeing those who I considered to be my true family again. But it had been a tough couple of decades. The war against the darkness in Mirkwood had been going badly and it had increased the tension in the palace tenfold. Fighting Sauron's minions everyday tested the limits of everyone who dwelt in the forest, but the tension in the palace was often at unbearable levels. Not that they had been overly bearable for Legolas anyway.

Still, he had been persuaded to leave the forest for a little while by many of the court advisers after things had gotten out of control in the palace a few weeks ago. Turning his mind away from those less than pleasant memories, Legolas focused once again on the path before him. He really was getting close to the main house now. He couldn't put off the meeting for much longer.

Every time. Every bloody time. Every time he made the journey over the misty mountains something went wrong. Ambushed by orcs, captured, and caught in an avalanche. Something happened every time – and this one was no different. Honestly, Legolas thought to himself, I must have THE worst luck in the world when it comes to those accursed mountains. This time he had been trapped up against some rocks by a rogue pack of wargs. Oh he had fought his way out of the situation alright – what kind of warrior would he be if he couldn't? But he had not managed to escape unscathed. He had a fairly nasty wound on his left leg, that he was pretty sure was infected. Elrond would NOT be happy, and Legolas was not looking forward to the nice long lecture that he was most likely to receive.

By now, Legolas was stood directly outside of the large oak doors that led into the last homely house. Really can't put this off any more he thought. Just as raised a hand, ready to knock, the door swung open to reveal a concerned looking Elrond.

"You're late" Elrond commented, raising one long elegant eyebrow.

Legolas opened and closed his mouth a few times, shocked.

"H-how did you..."

"How did I know that you were coming?"

Legolas nodded his head mutely, still a little shocked at this sudden turn of events.

"It seems that your friend Trelan thought it would be a good idea to let me know you were coming. I believe he was concerned that you would run into trouble – and it seems that you must have, considering that you are four days late!"

Legolas was going to kill Trelan, but managed to mumble "I know. I'm sorry my Lord. It's just that I…"

"What have I told you about calling me my Lord?" Elrond interrupted

"Um, not too?" Legolas replied sheepishly, hair dripping into his eyes.

"Um not to what?".

"Um not to Ada. Sorry Ada, I forgot".

"Well don't forget again, alright? Now come on in, you're soaked, and I bet you have an injury somewhere that I'm going to need to tend to" Elrond said gently as he ushered Legolas in out of the rain and up the stairs towards the private quarters.

An hour later, after a strip check for wounds (I had forgotten this new rule, that I would have to strip so that Elrond could personally see if I was hiding wounds) and a bath, Elrond left my room so that I could rest and change in time for dinner. He was definitely not happy. Damn. I knew this was going to happen, and it's all my stupid fault. If only I had just stayed out in the forest for a few more days. I tried to apologise, but as usual, Elrond – Ada (I keep forgetting) – wasn't having any of it.


"Stop apologising, and keep still Legolas! How on earth do you expect me to dress this wound if you keep moving about? And I've told you before, I am a healer, it is my job to tend to wounds – you are not being an inconvenience!"




*Sigh* "It's ok Legolas. I just wish that you would remember that you are not in Mirkwood at the moment." Elrond paused, gazing sadly up at me. He sighed again. "Tell me how you got these wounds".

"The usual. Run in with assorted nasty creatures" I attempted to jest weakly. It garnered me a small smile.

"Yes, this 'flesh wound' as you insist on calling it is rather impressive...deep too. One day I do expect you to arrive here in once piece you know".

"I know Ada".

"But you know as well as I do that I was referring to the wounds that are all over your back, not this one here."

"They're nothing"


"Honestly Ada, I really don't want to talk about it" I said, ducking my head so that my loose hair would hide my face.

"Hmm, I can see that", Elrond said, tucking my hair behind my ear and tilting his head so that his eyes met mine "But rest assured, you will be telling me what happend. It doesn't take a healer to notice that something isn't right with you."

I started to get nervous, I really didn't want to talk. But then Elrond finished dressing my leg and stood up to leave. "I won't force you to tell me, but we will be having a talk. I'll leave you to get cleaned up a bit, and I'll see you at dinner. It's at the usual time." Looking back one last time before he left, he said "It's good to have you home again son".

*End flashback*

I slumped backward onto my bed, sighing at the run of bad luck I was having. I really was going to kill Trelan. Ada wouldn't have know I was coming if he hadn't been informed, and therefore I wouldn't be in trouble for lurking in the woods trying to let my wounds heal up. He also wouldn't have known about all the crap that was happening inside of the palace. There would be no point in pretending that everything was fine now – Ada would want the truth. Fan-bloody-tastic. I'm just so tired, I don't need this right now. Sighing again, I got up and put on a set of clothes from the wardrobe and prepared for the evening meal. At least some good would come out of tonight, I would finally meet my Estel – my father's other adopted son.