Disclaimer: This is not my first fanfiction; my first is Maybe Then and (in my humble opinion) is worth checking out. Anyway, onto my second fanfiction of the year. I am sure no disclaimer is actually needed, though I feel obligated to say that Legolas, Aragorn, Arwen, Gollum, Thranduil and whoever else you might recognize do not belong to me. You know who they do belong to. Other than those that belong to Mr. Tolkien, the rest are mine... my apologies to Tolkien for abusing his characters. That said, I have (as I did in Maybe Then) altered Tolkien's characters a bit for my enjoyment and writing pleasure, and do not wish to get criticized for it. This, as you may well know, is a fanfiction. Meaning... anything I write would be untrue to Tolkien's works, so whether or not I write that Aragorn had three heads and was actually a Dwarf--the piece belongs to me, and I do not believe I would ever desire any sort of merit from it, whether or not the characters are as you see fit. They bend to my will as characters often do in writing, and will no matter what you say, so it would please me if you choose your words wisely and forget that these characters are not as you envisioned them. Aragorn and Legolas are--dare I say it?--cheeky, and they will remain that way for the course of the story. If you are prone to dislike that, then... nothing is forcing you to read my story (other than perhaps your sheer curiosity) and flames will be greeted with something in a simliar tone--meaning, be constructive, not mean. With that being said, this is a romance with some action, but not a Mary-Sue (or whatever). There's no real world people involved in this at all, and the main character I have created (from whose view you are hearing the story) is not me. In fact, she looks nothing like me and she is not the most beautiful creature in Middle-earth who suddenly captures Legolas' eye from afar and he falls madly in love with her and she him and they live happily ever after - if that's what you're looking for, this is not the story for you. Not that I have a problem with aforementioned stories, but I simply do not write them and this is not one of them. Anyway, on with the story... any delays in updating are due to circumstances beyond my control and are mentioned in my profile, if you take the time to read such things.

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The time of year was late autumn, and leaves had fallen from the trees, scattering the ground with dead colors. I looked out upon the Wood from the window in my flet, ignoring the crunching footsteps and ringing laughter of my friends from below.

"Laina, do try not to sulk," my mother's voice said from behind me, which only proved to make me more bad-tempered than before.

"But I want to go play with Malian and Legolas!" I insisted, crossing my arms and scowling in a very adolescent manner.

"You will have to wait until after lunch," I heard my father agreeing. I let out a tiny hmph, but dared not push it any further for fear I would be banned from playing all afternoon.

If my parents thought my friendship with Elves of nobility advantageous or even dignifying, they did not let on. Of course, at that time in my life, I was unaware of the meaning of rank or social status, only having lived for fifteen years: an infant in the eyes of any Elf. Quite the contrary, actually; though I was conscious of Legolas' title as Prince of Mirkwood and Malian's royal-blooded connections, their statuses were everything but heralded and rather served as fodder for child's play at our age. Legolas would play heroic Prince and I the hero's sidekick, trying to save a timid, helpless pillow from the clutches of her wicked captor, Malian. Having grown up with two brothers, Gareth and Cathal, and insisting on surrounding myself with other males as playmates, I dreaded the thought of playing a powerless maiden to be thrown about and rescued, doted upon and treated as fragile. I therefore contented myself with being Legolas' aid in recapturing his lost love (the pillow), and Legolas and Malian never protested.

"Can this lunch business be rushed, then?" Gareth asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.

"Have ladies to meet?" Cathal inquired playfully, at which he received a hard thump on the nose from our brother. Cathal was the oldest of the three, and having just had his thirtieth birthday, was growing into a rather good-looking young Elf. His features were hardened like Father's, his cheekbones high and jaw strongly set. His hair was a pale blonde and his piercing blue eyes, which he had received from Mother, had cleared with age. Gareth also had the blue eyes that ran rampant in our family, but his hair was slightly darker and his facial structure not as defined. At twenty-two, he stood a few fingers' width taller than Cathal. His dark eyebrows furrowed, he glared at our brother. I looked at my reflection in the window, recognizing the blue eyes of my mother and noticing the shine of my almost strawberry-blonde hair; a mixed trait, as my father had strikingly red hair and my mother lusciously blonde. I looked back at Gareth, who was positively scowling at Cathal by now, evidently thinking of a comeback. Cathal was scathingly witty, a characteristic he had picked up from Mother. Gareth, on the other hand, was usually passive and did not constantly roll quips off his tongue like Cathal.

"And I suppose you aren't meeting any ladies?" Gareth replied, a hint of disdain in his unwavering voice.

"Only kidding, little brother," Cathal greeted the insult jovially and with a wink, as he did all things.

"Quit your bickering and come eat," Mother interjected. I stood from my chair by the window and rushed into the kitchen, hastily taking my place between Gareth and Cathal. As soon as my plate hit the table, I tucked in, eating hurriedly as a Hobbit would after a day with no food.

"I fiffed," I announced, my mouth still full of food. Mother must have correctly translated this, because she answered, "You are not leaving until the whole family is finished." With finality in her silver-blue eyes, she forced me back into the seat I had hopped out of a moment ago. Crossing my arms unhappily again, I waited impatiently for the rest of my family to finish eating.

"My, my," Cathal said after eating another spoonful of potatoes, "I could eat like this all night." He winked at me, a gesture at which I threw a look that could melt iron and stuck out my tongue. Cathal laughed heartily before taking another bite and sitting back in his chair, clearly full. Gareth had finished minutes before, and my parents were taking their last bites as well.

"Mother, can I please go now?" I asked hopefully. Mother sent an indistinguishable look at Father, who nodded.

"Alright," she agreed, "but be back by nightfall."

"Thank you!" I replied, leaping from my seat and practically hurtling down the rope ladder leading up to our flet. It felt good to finally have crunching leaves under my own feet, and I hurried along the path up to the castle. The first Elf I ran into happened to be Legolas, whose casual smile widened as I approached.

"Finally!" Legolas exclaimed gleefully, grabbing my hand and pulling me down to the second floor of the castle where Malian stayed. A look of delight spread across Malian's face as we ran toward him, Legolas nearly knocking him over as he jumped on him.

"I thought we'd never get to play," Malian laughed, throwing Legolas off of him. The three of us joined hands and skipped off down a long corridor in the castle, satisfying ourselves with a game of hide-and-seek.

"…Ninety-nine, one-hundred!" I exclaimed, taking my hands away from my eyes and looking down at both ends of the wood-floored corridor. I perked up my pointed ears in silence, straining to catch any noise made by my prey. I tiptoed down the corridor to my left, being careful not to make any sounds that would give away my location. I heard a scuffle of feet behind a door just down the hallway, and I sprinted off in the direction of the noise, pushing open the door. The room I stepped into was a guest room, complete with a bed and wooden chest at the foot; across the room, the bathroom door stood ajar. I hurried to it, pushing it open resolutely and exclaiming, "Ha!" at the feigned fright on my companion's face.

"Alright, I guess I'm it," Legolas sighed resignedly.

"You make far too much noise to be much of an archer," I joked. "Even a Dwarf would have heard you from a mile away with that racket."

"Really?" he asked incredulously, and the dragon inside my stomach roared with victory, until- "Well, a Hobbit could have outrun you if he was walking at his slowest pace." The dragon flared its nostrils in anger.

"Then why didn't you run? Afraid even the laziest Orc could have caught you if you tried?" Legolas gaped wide-eyed at this attack.

"Oh yes?" he asked before taking off at a dash down the corridor.

"I'll get you, Greenleaf!" I yelled after him, prompting Malian to open the door to his hiding place and rush out after Legolas. I easily caught up with both of them, tackling Legolas to the ground before he reached the end of the hallway. After a howl of laughter from me, Legolas stood quickly and brushed himself off.

"I let you do that," he said airily, flipping his golden hair behind him and narrowing his soft brown eyes at me. "You couldn't have caught me if I were running at full speed."

"So you could certainly catch me if I were running at full speed, then?" I challenged, and as Legolas nodded, I ran in the other direction. The rest of the afternoon passed with Malian, Legolas, and I chasing each other and playing pretend. Just before nightfall, I took my leave (reluctantly) and headed home.

"Been out fighting off an army of Orcs?" Mother asked as I appeared at the top of the ladder and climbed into our flet. She smoothed my hair down and examined a scrape on my knee before allowing me to climb, exhausted, into bed. Though tired, I could not fall asleep and after a while I recognized the voices of my parents muttering outside my door conspiratorially.

"If you have something to say, come in," I insisted loudly. A moment later, my father opened the door and poked his head in.

"Mind if I have a little chat with you?" Father requested warily. I raised one eyebrow at him but did not object. He crossed the room and sat on my bed, running one hand through my messy hair.

"What is it, Father?" I asked, worried at the concerned look on his face. He sighed unenthusiastically.

"Well, your mother and I…we…we have decided it is time for a change." I waited for him to explain further, but it was clear he thought this statement needed no clarification.

"Um, what kind of change?" I prompted. Father's light green eyes carried with them a bit of pity.

"A change…of scenery." He patted my head lovingly, not making to say anything more on the subject, as if he were reluctant to inform me exactly what this meant.

"Right," I said undecidedly. A pause. "What does that mean?"

Father, who had been looking anywhere else but in my eyes, now settled his gaze somewhere near my chin. "It means…it means we are leaving." Great! A vacation!
"Oh, good!" I exclaimed to my father's surprise. "Where to, and for how long? I thought it might be nice to get out of the house for a week or two--"

"No, no," my father interrupted, dismay written on his face. "We'll be gone...indefinitely."

"Indefinitely?" I echoed.

"Your mother and I have decided it is time for a change, and we want to pick up and go to Imladris, the city of Lord Elrond," Father explained.

My world was suddenly a shade darker, and I gulped down an inappropriate reproach, instead saying, "When?"

"We leave tomorrow," Father answered, taking my harsh tone in good stride. "I know you have friends here, Laina, but your Mother and I are growing restless; we are not young, you know."

Tomorrow? I was fuming. How could they be so selfish? "And…and you think…" I was having to take deep breaths in between my words so as to stop myself from screaming at him. "You think…leaving Mirkwood…is going…to help?"

"Yes," he replied without missing a beat. "I think it is precisely what we need." I wanted to throw something at him, to scream and cry and, if humility took me, beg with him to let me stay. But I knew I couldn't. With no words of comfort and after a moment's silence, my father ruffled my hair a bit, kissed my forehead, and walked out of my room. My mouth was hanging open and I clenched and unclenched my fist, searching for words of accusation to throw at his back, but I found none. Fifteen years and I was expected to accept this move with grace, nay, dare I say pleasure? I was so furious I did not sleep.

The next morning dawned as I expected every morning in Mirkwood did; I was the only one who saw the stormcloud lingering over my head. After a silent breakfast on my end despite many attempts of my brothers, I was permitted to go to the castle to bid farewell to my friends. I trudged up the pathway, thinking bitterly that this may well be the last time I would walk up the pathway, and burst through the doors unhindered. Legolas was waiting around for me as usual, and he ran up to me with an exasperatingly cheeky grin spread across his face.

"What, still angry that I outran you yesterday?" he asked, jabbing me in my ribs with his finger. I daresay he picked up on the rather serious undertones of my dubious scowl, because he immediately followed the question with, "Is everything alright?"

"No," I replied indignantly, not exactly wanting to tell Legolas that I may never see him again.

"Well, what is it then?"

"I'm leaving," I responded unwillingly.

"Oh, that's all?" Legolas demanded lightheartedly, draping one arm over my shoulder. "You're moping about going on a trip? Laina, I'll see you when you get back. I know you'll miss me sorely," he added, that cheeky grin still on his face, "but by Varda, I won't die while you're gone."

"That's what you think," I added hopelessly, gloom replacing my fury.

"I doubt there will be any serious attacks by creatures of any kind in the next few weeks," Legolas said, trying to comfort me.

"You don't understand!" I nearly shouted at him, the dragon inside me grunting miserably. "We're leaving! We're moving to Imladris!" Sudden shock spread across Legolas' usually good-humored face. His brown eyes widened in disbelief.

"You…you can't," he whispered desperately. I nodded. "When do you leave?"

"Today."

"Today?" I nodded again. "But-but that is far too soon!"

"I know!" I cried sorrowfully. Legolas put both of his arms around me and hugged me tightly.

"We will see each other again," Legolas said, resting his golden head on mine as he was a good foot taller than I. I glanced up into his eyes, and he nodded again. "Let's find Malian, he will want to say goodbye." Legolas grabbed my hand and led me down to the second floor as he did every day, but this time with an air of finality about him.

"You're leaving?" Malian inquired incredulously, his dark brown hair falling into his blue eyes that matched mine in color. "Today?" Legolas explained that we had already been through this conversation once, and it was time to say farewell. Gallantly, both of my friends suggested one last game of pretend before I left. When the game was over and Legolas and I had successfully rescued the pillow, Legolas and Malian walked me back to my flet, chattering gleefully along the way. I had almost forgotten I had to leave my two best friends, and when we reached the ladder leading up to my flet, I nearly invited them up.

"I guess we better get back to the castle," Malian asserted finally, his blue eyes softened with melancholy. I nodded understandingly and threw my arms around his neck. "I'll miss you!"

"I'll miss both of you!" I replied, tears in my eyes. I let go of Malian and embraced Legolas. He put one hand behind my head soothingly.

"Now, if you forget to visit I will have to run all the way to Imladris and then beat you in a race," Legolas joked. He was witty until the end, and I silently thanked him for it; otherwise the situation would have been far too painful to bear. The two of them departed at length, leaving me to climb the ladder solemnly, looking dejectedly after them as they ran back toward the castle. I would not see them for five hundred years.