Disclaimer: Once again horribly upset that I did not create The Lord of the Rings and all that goes along with it. Tolkien beat me to it.

I love the idea of Aragorn and Legolas being friends long before the fellowship. If I may, I would certainly recommend 'The Mellon Chronicles' because they are absolutely wonderful. Kudos to Cassia and Siobhan for being far greater then I.

I dabble back and forth between movie and book. Some references shall be made to earlier books as well, The Hobbit, The Silmarillion, etc.

Slash-free. Nuff said.

This coincides with Prescience in the similar interpretations of character, and similar histories. It's not a sequel, because most of the story takes place before, but is not quite a prequel either. Read both, be happy.

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Duty

by Linmenel

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For a moment, he forgot that there was evil in the world.

There was something about Imladris that put a song in his heart. The city was alive, and yet a soft nostalgia hung thick in the air. It seemed a fading lullaby to him. Soft and soothing to a weary traveler, but almost reaching its end, ready to leave the world in quiet slumber.

He dismounted his strong white stallion the moment he was within the city gates. Now was not the time to be lost in thought. There was trouble at hand. He tied his long blonde hair away from his face as he gathered his belongings. The stable boys came to take away the horses, and his people for a moment stood in calm wonder. Legolas stood tall, and shifted his gaze towards his company. Feeling the weight of his pressing hazel eyes, they began to collect themselves. He smiled, fairly satisfied, and began down the cobblestone path.

He had known of the darkness for some time, it had grown like a shadow in his heart. The Lord Elrond had called for aid, Legolas Prince of Greenwood the Great, would answer.

At least, he hoped he would. Legolas craved adventure and valor with every fiber of his being, but when it came down to it, he doubted his gall. He had not great experience in battle, and though his skill with a bow was not without renown, his aim had failed him in the past. Now, would he have the courage to face this new evil that the Lord had spoken of? Failure was indeed his greatest fear.

He was not comforted when a company of dwarves passed through the gate. The confusion delayed him in his walk. Erebor folk, it seemed by their attire. Short and bumbling, they entered the gates of the fair city, an oxymoron it seemed to the young elven prince. To Elrond's folk they were quite civil, but they showed no kindness to the company from Mirkwood. No matter though, the elves too could hold a grudge.

A reassuring sound caught his leaf-shaped ears, as he saw a man, dressed mostly in black, approach the elves in his company. His soft, raspy voice whispered greetings in Sindarin. Aragorn, the young ranger of the North, was happy to see the travelers from Mirkwood, at least.

"Mae Govanen, Estel." Legolas said, and Aragorn turned to meet him. Legolas was then troubled, for Aragorn had aged terribly since they last met. His shoulders hung with weariness, despite the respite brought by the city, and his eyes had darkened with the coming of age. Young he was still, among the Numenoreans, but not the dauntless youth that Legolas remembered.

Aragorn laughed, rare for the solemn Dunedain. Some of his youth seemed to return.

He approached "Legolas! I did not know you would be joining us!"

"Aye, I had other business at home, it took some convincing on my part." He put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, a gesture that was soon returned; it was their way of greeting.

Yet when he met the ranger's eyes, he found his heart troubled.

Aragorn sensed this, no doubt.

"You bring ill tidings?" He asked.

"I wish it were not so." Legolas replied. "Much has happened since last we spoke."

"Ill tidings we certainly do not have a lack of." Said Aragorn, as the two turned from the gates.

Before them stood the great hall where the Lord Elrond resided. Many of the travelers had already gone inside. Legolas' eyes lit up as they passed through the great doorway. Even a Wood Elf would be lost in the Noldorin architecture of Imladris. Fine archways loomed above, with great gaping windows that let in the autumn breezes. Indeed, the very leaves of the rowan trees swirled about their feet as they entered a large chamber, now empty. The Hall of Fire, it was called. Upon entry Legolas remembered a great many feasts, when laughter hung heavy in the air, and tales, songs, and drink were in abundance.

Legolas soon noticed that the room was not empty. A very old Bilbo Baggins was asleep in the corner, practically burried under his notes. Legolas looked questioningly at Aragorn.

"Believe me, it would take an act of the Valar to wake him."

Legolas smiled. "That dear little hobbit. He has caused far more trouble then he could have ever imagined."

"True," Aragorn replied, finding a seat next to a great column. "yet he has also done much that is good. But for him, Smog would still be a menace to the world, and the dwarves and elves…well…" The ranger smiled. "I suppose we are still working on that."

Legolas scowled.

"You speak of many evils, my friend. It is very unlike you. Do you know something that I do not?"

Again his heart swelled with guilt. Another gnawing reminder of his inadequacy. More and more the elven prince doubted himself.

Again their eyes met, and Legolas knew that no words were needed. For years the two had been friends, and though neither were reckoned for their foresight, they could understand each other well.

"He has escaped."

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Ok kids, Chapter one. Yep, I do mean to continue it. Feedback is appreciated because I'm feeling a bit over my head right now. All I can say is prepare for flashbacks. Yee haw.