A/N—I don't own The Lord of the Rings; that belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I also don't own The Lord of the Rings movies; those belong to Peter Jackson. (While this is a book-based fanficiton, inevitably movies influence writing, and credit is due where credit is due).

Notes—I've always been intrigued by modern-day school fanfictions—perhaps it's due to my love of films like The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink, and Mean Girls. I know that literally hundreds of other writers have contributed to the school!LOTR AU pool; I'm hoping to make my own, unique contribution. Please bear with me—this is the wildest thing I've ever written!

Notes—Despite this being a modern-day AU, I've chosen to retain Tolkien's races (elves, dwarves, etc) and the histories behind them.

Summary—Legolas Greenleaf finds that making friends at the esteemed boarding school, Rivendell Academy—with its cliques and its rivalry with Mordor High—is easier said than done. But with the help of a kind, wise teacher and a literature assignment, Legolas learns to find his own friends, and to become the Lord of his own Ring. Rated K-plus for typical high school drama, and possible language.

LORD OF THE RING

Legolas knew from moment number one that there was no way that he was ever going to fit in at Rivendell Academy.

"You've been transferred here because of behavioral issues, your father said." The principal was a tall, foreboding elf who—Legolas guessed—wasn't inclined to brook any behavioral issues.

"Yes, Mr. Elrond," Legolas said.

"Would you like to elaborate on what those behavioral issues were?"

"Do I have to?" (Legolas most definitely did not feel like elaborating).

"No. We believe in freedom for all students, whether that is freedom of race or freedom of privacy; all we ask, Mr. Greenleaf, is that these behavioral issues are not repeated."

"…so freedom of action isn't included?" Legolas hazarded.

Mr. Elrond's stern face grew sterner. "On the contrary, Mr. Greenleaf. Freedom of action is greatly encouraged, so long as it is constructive. Behavioral issues are not constructive, and are, therefore, not encouraged and not allowed."

"Alright. Got it; freedom of action—"

"Mr. Greenleaf, as your principal I would highly advise that you drop the issue of freedom of action; while we encourage you to seek constructive ways of expression your right to act freely, we do not encourage the blatant disrespect for authority that you are already exhibiting. Are we clear on that?"

"…yes, Mr. Elrond. I understand."

"Good. We're happy to have you here, Legolas, and we hope that you'll find a community where you feel free to be yourself and learn in the way most conducive to your success and to your happiness."

"Thank you, Mr. Elrond."

"That being said—and I have already warned your father of this—any behavioral issues that occur will be dealt with harshly, and if they continue after the first few warnings they will have to be punished accordingly."

"Understood, Mr. Elrond."

"Then you're excused. If you have any questions or concerns—not about freedom of actions, Mr. Greenleaf (Mr. Elrond's tone of voice stopped Legolas' parting quip)—then my office is always open to you. Have a wonderful day of classes."

"Thank you, Mr. Elrond," Legolas said one last time before ducking out of the door and into the secretary's office.

"Here's your schedule, child," the secretary—a stiff elf with no nameplate on her desk—said, handing Legolas a sheaf of papers. "You also have your room assignment and a list of policies that the school asks you to abide by. If—goodness, again?"

The door to the secretary's office banged open, and a teacher barged in dragging a student by the arm.

"Mr. Elrond is available?" the teacher snapped.

"Of course. Let me let him know—"

"No need, Elvira."—so that was her name!—"Aragorn, if you could join me in my office."

The student, who looked rather too old to be attending Rivendell Academy, shrugged himself free of his fuming teacher—who, after receiving a resigned look from the principal, left—and trudged into Mr. Elrond's office, where the door shut.

"That boy!" Elvira sighed, shuffling papers as she talked to herself. "As if I didn't have enough paperwork to do, he's got me writing up detention slips left and right." She looked up as she reached, supposedly, for the aforesaid detention slips, and spotted Legolas. "You have class in half an hour, child; I'd suggest that you get yourself out into the halls and familiar with your classroom locations."

Legolas nodded, biting his tongue to keep himself from a nasty comment about freedom of action that would land him in line for the principal's office, and slipped out of the office and out into the hallway.

He tripped immediately over a set of legs.

"Oh, beg pardon! I didn't mean no—any—harm!"

Legolas looked down, and beheld a hobbit. Short and well-rounded, he had a face that Legolas guessed was normally good-natured, but was now fretful; as Legolas watched, he scrambled to his feet and wrung his hands.

"I oughtn't to have stretched out so, but I didn't know anyone was going to be coming in. After Mr. Aragorn goes in there's a right long stretch of time before he comes out, and as Mr. Frodo's class don't let out for another ten minutes I thought—"

The door that the young hobbit had been waiting in front of opened, and another teacher (Legolas realized that he probably wasn't going to learn any of their names, as they all looked relatively alike; sir or ma'am would do) glared at the hobbit and Legolas. "Mr. Gamgee, I don't often have to remind you of school policies, but since you're transgressing, and our new arrival could bear to be apprised of the policies, I'll direct your attention to policy eight on his list; both of you remember it, or it'll be into that office next to you to get a detention slip."

Both of them nodded. The door to the classroom closed.

"You're a ninnyhammer," the hobbit muttered beside him, and Legolas whipped around.

"Excuse me?!"

"Sam Gamgee, you've gone and been a ninnyhammer—done just what your Gaffer wouldn't have wanted you to do—"

He was talking to himself, Legolas realized. Leaving the hobbit to his unhappy self-berating, Legolas set off down the hall. As he walked, he rifled through the papers that the secretary had given him and found the list of policies—Policy #8: Students must maintain a respectful silence within 50 feet of classroom doors.

"Ughhhh…" Legolas moaned, leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor. "I'm going to hate this place."