Hello again readers. Thank you for the lovely reviews! Hope you enjoy.


Aragorn stood frozen in shock as he examined the small being before him. Though he looked no older than a human child of two years, his light locks fell beyond his shoulders and flowed across small, pointed ears. Familiar blue eyes stared up at him with uncertainty, clouded by tears and rimmed with puffy redness. Streams of the clear liquid trailed down his chubby cheeks, trickling under his chin and dropping onto the green tunic he was seemingly trapped in. The elfling's bottom lip jutted out and he gripped the dark fabric as he trembled. His milky complexion was illuminated by the darkness of the early morning. A wooden bow, nearly six times the length of him, lay behind him, along with his quiver and a few stray arrows splayed across the forest floor.

It couldn't be, could it?

"Legolas?" The dark man choked out.

The distressed child nodded slowly. The tears flowed stronger now. Aragorn knelt down and extended a calloused hand toward him. Legolas tried to move but frowned as he found himself stuck in the heavy material. Aragorn lowered himself beside the little blond elf and began removing the layers of clothing and tossing them to the side. He wrapped the boy tightly in the thick fabric of his own cloak.

Aragorn scooped up the little warrior as well as his bow and arrows and—still not entirely believing what he was doing—carried him back to the tree where their horses stood. The gelding's head whipped up and he nickered deeply, recognizing his elf despite his change in appearance. Aragorn set Legolas in front of a large boulder and quickly began tacking both horses. When he had finished, the sun was rising and he glanced over to find his friend examining a fistful of soil and dead leaves. Aragorn strode toward the child and quickly lifted him back into his arms. He mounted his fiery red mare, looping the gelding's reins through a ring on his saddle. Muscled legs nudged his horse into a swift canter as he held tightly to the bundle in his arm, Legolas's gelding following beside.

Legolas leaned into Aragorn's chest, savoring the comfort and protection of him and the cloak. He pondered his predicament, trying to make sense of it all. He knew who he was, right? He was the exceptionally skilled Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood. He knew who this man—Aragorn—was; a dear friend and companion. He knew this, but was unable to recall any memories or adventures they had shared, no matter how hard he wracked his tiny brain. Why was he a child? The elfling became incredibly frustrated at his lack of memory, his face heating up and tears threatening to fall. He did not understand why he felt this way. He was so upset and he could not control himself. All he wanted was a nap and his ada.


The tears did begin to fall then. Heavily. He longed for the strong, loving embrace of his father. He could not explain why the feeling was so strong, but he wanted his ada, and he wanted him now. He struggled in Aragorn's arms. "I want Ada!" he cried, trying to climb out of the man's hold. The larger of the two held his steel embrace, leaving the Legolas wailing and clawing at his clothing.

Eventually the fair-headed elfling succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep with two of his tiny fingers in his mouth.

Surprisingly, elfling had only woken a few times throughout the ride. A couple times he had nudged Aragorn for a drink from his waterskin and the other was another call for his ada.

"You will see him soon enough…" Aragorn had whispered.

After Legolas's tantrum, he realized his friend may not remember much—if anything—of his adult life. In a way, it hurt. The long treacherous journey they had taken, the friendships they had formed—all gone. What if he never got those memories back? He knew he would question his elven friend when he was in a state to talk. The main priority had been getting him to a safe place. Aragorn's brow knit together as he tried to think of a way to explain this situation. Coming up with nothing sounding short of ridiculous, he exhaled and glanced at his sleeping charge, almost smiling at the peaceful look on his old friend's face.

A chilly breeze swept the air as a two horses, a man, and an elfling approached Thranduil's halls.

Yes, not as long as I had hoped either. But I wanted Thranduil's reaction in a separate chapter, so I hope this sufficed. Thanks for reading, please review! It certainly helps me update faster ;)

Also, just to clear some things up: An intact male horse is a stallion. A castrated male is a gelding. A female horse is a mare. I often read fanfics where female horses are being described as stallions, etc. So just a fun lil fact for ya, although I'm sure many of you already know this. :)