Hello y'all! This is my first (official) fanfic here on . I was inspired on January 19th while my friend and I watched a full-on marathon before the release of Season 3 here in the USA. The following crazy insanity ensued about a week or two later. I'm up to Chapter 3 as of now, but not for long! I will post as I finish, which will range from a few days to a few weeks to (possibly and with many apologies) a few months. PM me for any more info, questions, comments, concerns, cries of outrage, etc. etc.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SHERLOCK... otherwise I wouldn't be writing fanfictions, now would I?

Chapter One

It was one of those warm winter days that were almost made for taking calm walk through the forest or a race through the clearings. The trees and flowers were all in full bloom, and the sun shone softly enough for the temperature to be pleasant and strong enough for it to be bright. It was the kind of day that should be savored and appreciated. It was the kind of day that Sikahonda was not prone to savoring.

Instead of being outside in the beauty of nature and the blinding sunlight, Sikahonda sat slouched on a rather worn old wooden bench staring with great concentration at what seemed to be nothing at all. In reality he was staring at the paper-covered gray stone wall of his adopted home, a cave high in the Misty Mountains and far from all other beings, sentient or otherwise.

His dark curly hair was unusual for one of his kind, as the pointy ears on the side of his head would testify. He had a skinny, lanky figure that allowed him to look even taller than he already was, and his piercing blue eyes were unusually sharp, taking in every detail around him with surprising speed and accuracy.

He slipped deeper and deeper into himself, but before he could settle in he was roused by an echoing knock from the right: a visitor. That was never a good sign.

"Just a moment!" he shouted to the unknown party. Heaving himself up, he walked briskly down a weaving stone corridor, muttering as he went along until at last he reached an unusually shaped wooden door. Another knock came; this time louder due to the fact that he was only door away from the one doing said knocking. *

He swung the door open to reveal an elf, for no other race could grow as tall. The figure wore a dark gray cloak that touched the snow-dusted stone ground. Their worn black boots peeked from beneath the thick fabric, and a few strands of dark hair, similar in color to Sikahonda's, hung from beneath the raised hood. The cloak had been mended in three places at the bottom with silver patches, making the owner obvious.

"Do you have a room for an old traveler?" the figure asked, a pale hand from inside its cloak reaching towards him. Sikahonda drew back slightly and narrowed his eyes, but despite the awkward situation he smiled slightly.

"Your old disguises don't fool me anymore, brother." He said as the traveler passed, still unbidden, through the door and began walking down the stone passage. Sikahonda closed the door shut, the snowflakes that had drifted in dotting his dark hair with white and the stone floor slick with water. "But you could still have the decency to remove your cloak when you come inside!" The traveler gave a short echoing laugh from down the hallway.

As Sikahonda walked back into his home, he was greeted by a rather pudgy elf who was looking at his paper-covered wall with amusement. His dark hair was long, in the traditional style of the elves, and his dark gray cloak was pulled back to reveal his long silvery tunic and black boots beneath.

"It's nice to see you again, Makar." Sikahonda said as he settled back onto his chair. Makar smirked.

"Is it really?" he mused, turning to face Sikahonda with a smirk.

"No, I was just trying to make conversation. Now," Sikahonda said excitedly, leaning forwards on the edge of the seat like an excited child, "What do you have for me?"

"It's an unusual case… which means you'll solve it quickly," His brother said, walking slowly across the small stone cave to an ornate red door with gold accents, which was tightly locked, "I think you may want to take this one, Sika."

"Get away from there," Sikahonda said angrily, getting up and swatting Makar away from the door, "And never call me Sika again."

"It would require you to room in town. Will you take the case?" Makar asked with raised eyebrows, walking slightly faster towards the other end of the room to the mouth of the tunnel.

"Do you know me at all?" Sikahonda said with a grin, "It's so boring being here alone. Of course I'll take it."

Makar turned and smirked.

"Very well." He said mysteriously before walking out of the room with a flourish from his cloak. Sikahonda smiled and shook his head as he followed, shrugging on his own black cloak on his way out.

"You were always the dramatic one, brother." He said as the siblings exited the house.

Makar pulled his hood up. "That's the pot calling the kettle black, Sika." He stated before walking away. Sikahonda frowned and ran after his older brother into the snowy midwinter's night.