Legolas' POV

I was jittery on the way to the house, a sensation wholly unfamiliar to me. Three times I almost took a U-turn and headed right back to the shop, and three times I reminded myself not to make any rash decisions. First, I had to get to the Romans'. Then I would figure out the best choice of action to take. I still had time. All the time in the world, actually. Only maybe she did not.

The thought made me come to an abrupt halt, and that is when I realized I already left my destination by a few houses. Gripping the steering wheel, I let my thoughts wander back to my exchange with the clerk.

The girl had raven black hair, reaching just below her chin. Her face was all edges and hollows, which gave her an overall skeletal look. It was her eyes that made all the difference, that made her come alive. Two specks of grey staring from a sea of pale. She had the eyes of a king, of a prophecy, of hope brought by the silver light of dawn. She had Estel's eyes.

Even her voice, laced with suspicion and bitterness, reminded me of him. I could see by the way she evaluated me that she had no knowledge of my identity. I did, however, see a speck of recognition in her stare as she scanned my face. Maybe she knew of elves and recognized me for what I was. Maybe she heard about me from stories told by her ancestors.

Whatever the case, I've never been so sure in my life – my new life – that I was not alone. If his kin was alive here, maybe he was to be found too. Dropped off the face of Middle-Earth to land here, in the same land I was surviving in. Maybe I was brought here for a reason after all. Maybe if I looked hard enough, reached far enough, I would even find my own kind. Or was it just Gimli, son of Glóin, that followed me here? My last memory intact from my old life was with him, after all. Reaching the shores of the Undying Lands shoulder to shoulder. He might have been at the other side of Earth, for all I knew. A miner in the developing world. Maybe a businessman trying to make do. The thought put a smile on my face. Would he have aged a lot since coming here? Would time have been kind to him as it was to me?

By the time I snapped out of my daze, someone was running down the street, right towards me. I could here slippers flapping and splashing with each step, and I wondered briefly who was mad enough to wear them in such weather. The answer literally knocked on my door. I hastily opened the car, to come face to face with my friend and would be host.

"Thomas? What on earth are you doing here, in slippers too?" I exclaimed.

"Jane saw your car drive past, and you wouldn't pick up the bloody phone," he answered, teeth clattering in the cold.

"Get in, quickly now," I said, shaking my head. He did what I asked without a second thought, seemingly relieved to be sheltered from the outdoor shower. I could not care less he was dripping wet all over the interiors as I put the car in reverse. „You could have just waited for me, you know."

"We've been waiting for almost an hour. I thought something was up. What were you doing down here?"

"Thinking," I said almost inaudibly. „How mad is she?"

"Oh, you know, nothing you can't deal with. She's used to your antics, always asking me if you paint or whatever. Hell-bent on saying you must be an artist, which is a bloody stupid excuse for being late, if you ask me." He laughed, and I could not help but join him.

"An artist? That is not too original, mate."

"You haven't heard the best yet," he said, looking at me sideways.

"It gets even better? Well, do not keep me in suspense!"

"She's been saying you must be a spy or something. You know, a government goon of some kind," he explained conspiratiorally. I was booming with laughter by this point, a sound which reminded me strongly of a certain dwarf. I thanked the Valar there was no elf here to witness my falling from grace. "And there she comes."

I followed his gaze and indeed, a woman was running towards the car I parked in front of the Roman house, clutching an umbrella in her hands. Thomas, always the impatient one, jumped out of the vehicle and started towards her. It was an endearing sight, watching them cuddle under the small thing barely giving them any shelter. I followed after a moment, and Jane clutched my arm to pull me closer too. We must have been a silly sight, three adults trying to fit under a ruined umbrella. But she would not let go. Not Jane Roman.

We all shook of our jackets and boots in the hall, trying and failing to look presentable after only seconds outside. Thomas looked the worst, I imagined. He was covered in mud right up to his knees. At least I could make use of my elvish traits and walk lightly on my feet, thus looking a tad cleaner than him. His wife looked best, though her red, straight locks were reaching every which way.

Tom said out loud what we all thought. "That wasn't something I would repeat anytime soon." He was already drying his hair with a towel. I was just starting to wonder where he got it, when a towel was wrapped around my neck too, baseball hat stolen before I could even do so much as blink.

"Legolas Greenleaf," she greeted me, staring into my eyes as if searching for something. Her voice would have sounded angry to anyone else who did not know better.

"Jane Roman." I followed her example, keeping my poker face intact. „You look lovely as always." She could hide her smile no longer.

"It's wonderful to see you, Legolas," she squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"I am sorry for being late. As usual..."

"It's fine, bud, now get my woman off of you," Tom said, half-laughing, half-serious.

Jane shrugged, then pecked her husband. "Sorry, love. If you brought him more often I wouldn't be so overwhelmed every time I see him."

"As if I had any power over him," he muttered under his breath, earning a light smack on the back of the head from me. He would be surprised to know how much power he had over me, what with being my best friend and only direct descendant of my first mate on Earth.

We went to the dining room shortly afterwards. The children were already there, sitting obediently at the table. The older one, Michael, came running as soon as he saw me. Anthony was a different case entirely. He was very young, and seldom saw me. I was not even sure he remembered who I was anymore. He looked a bit frightened as he eyed me timidly from under his lashes. Whereas Michael crashed into my legs and started jumping up and down.

"Leggy Leggy Legolas didyoubringmeapresent?" he cried in one breath.

"I brought you sweets, is that all right?" I asked.

"What kind of sweets?" he eyed me suspiciously, untangling his arms from my knees.

"Hazelnut chocolate and turkish delight. Only the best for the Roman Crown Prince," I answered, looking apologetically at Jane. She hated it when I called him that. Fretted that it would go to his head, which was utter nonsense in my opinion.

"Yesplease!" he shrieked, reaching up with his hands. I handed him the prize, then walked over to his brother.

"Hello, Anthony. I am Legolas. Do you remember me?" I said quietly, crouching next to him. He nodded shyly, ever so often sending a frightened look over my shoulder. „Say, what do you think about blueberry cakes?"

He shrugged, but I could see excitement kindling in his eyes, so I continued.

"I happen to have one in my bag but I am not sure I can eat it. Do you think you could take it from me? I would rather you ate it before your father did. He is already quite fat as it is," I whispered, earning a chuckle from him. Seeing his eager nod, I reached into my bag and slipped him the cake. Clutching it, he ran into his room.

I slowly turned around to find myself face to face with a curious Jane and a suspicous husband of hers. Michael was unwrapping the chocolate in the corner, oblivious to his circumstances.

"I'm not sure I want to know what that was all about," Thomas said, his tone disapproving.

"You do not" I said with a sly smile.

We all took our places around the table, engaging in conversation about interesting topics. I always looked forward to these quiet evenings in the company of my friends, eager to discuss the happenings of the world and hear about their positively ordinary lives. This time, however, I found myself losing track of our conversations more often than not, sending apologetic looks every time I made them repeat something they just said. The children left after we finished eating, and soon it was just the three of us. A quick look at my watch confirmed that I have been in their company for forty-five minutes. It was way too early to leave, yet I could barely keep myself in the chair.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Tom asked from the doorway as I loaded the dishwasher. I heard him following me in and had an inkling as to what he was going to say.

"Yes. Just let me wrap this up," I said, placing the last wine glass in the machine. When I turned to him, he was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a frown on his face as he looked at me.

"What's up with you, mate? And don't tell me it's nothing," he added, seeing my expression. I was, in fact, on the verge of saying just that.

"I am merely more lost in my thoughts than usual. It is nothing for you to worry about," I reassured him, smiling.

"More than usual? You are all over the place, Legolas. I've known you literally all my life, and you've never acted like this before. I'm not stupid. I know you hide a lot of things from my family, from me."

I interjected. "And I am sorry for that."

"You don't ever have to be sorry, not to me! I know you're different from us, and that's alright. I just want you to understand... whatever it is that's going on with you now, I'm here for you. We are here for you," he said, and I could see the sincerity in his every word. It meant more to me than he could ever know, but it was still useless. I was not planning on burdening him or his family with the troubles of my past. It was more than enough that he accepted me the way I was, not part of his race, someone never changing while he has grown into a fine man since the first time we met, when he was but a toddler clinging to his mother's legs.

I walked up to him. "Thank you, my friend." I lay my hand on his shoulder, to which he responded by pulling me into a tight embrace reminiscent of a bear hug. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It felt as though he was a child again, running up to me whenever I came to visit them. Technically, he was still a child compared to my thousands of years.

Letting go and looking into his eyes, so young amidst the few wrinkles starting to show, I wondered if this was my future. Visiting the Roman descendants as their uncle, their friend, their brother. Watching them live just to see them wither away later. Watch Michael and Anthony grow into fine young men while their father passed onto wherever it was Men of Earth went after their deaths.

It seemed more a curse than a blessing to me.

Did I really not have any more purpose in this life? Was I not destined to find Estel's kin and continue the work he laid out for me?

"Are you lost again?" Tom broke me out from my thought spirals.

"Always. Though, I think I might be able to find my way now..." I said, cocking one eyebrow at him uncertainly. He slapped me on the back, a smile immediately replacing the frown.

"What are you waiting for then? Go"

A/N: Is Legolas too OOC to your liking? What did you think about his backstory in the previous chapter? I read a few Legolas stories and hoped to do a fresh take on him with this one. In modern days, he is usually portrayed as a rich guy who can distance himself from the happenings around him, never forced to engage in things like war or deal with helplessness and poverty. What if he was as powerless as any man during the course of the 20th century?

Let me know what you thought about him and the story in general!