It's an Odd Coincidence

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize. I'm just borrowing them for this little escapade.

To 'IMBECILE WRITER' (sic) A.K.A. 'research before writing' (sic): I did not delete your first review. I never delete reviews. It just got pushed down. Before you get angry and have to type in all-caps and resort to name-calling, you might want to check the review page. Both your reviews are still there, on page two or three or whatever page number they happen to be on. Did you really think that your review was so brilliant that it was going to stay on the first page forever?

By the way, thanks for pointing out the mistake to me. I must have misunderstood my teacher when she mentioned the meaning of hermaphrodite. I am grateful for your correction. And no, I won't stop writing and learning from people who are helpful and give good advice on how to write.

Anon: I read Logan's wiki page, and I saw the trailer for the upcoming 'Wolverine' movie, so most of my 'History of Logan' will be based on those. I'll only mention the pre-Stryker period briefly as in the movies, Logan's lost his memory, as you probably know, and that's really convenient, at least for me. :)

Thanks for the info about what Logan actually symbolizes. I hadn't known about that.

i: Logan actually doesn't know about the One Ring. Aragorn only told him about the nine, and he believed that story because he saw the Nazgûl and knew they weren't natural. He did smell that Gandalf wasn't Magneto, but the sight was probably overwhelming him, and he was tired. ;)

Sharra: I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I try my best to give Logan realistic reactions, because that's the sort of thing I like to read. If you have any suggestions about what you want him to experience in Middle Earth, or advice about how he should react, please don't hesitate to tell me.

Thank you to all you kind reviewers who took your time to tell me how you feel about the story, and to give advice. I appreciate the feedback.

Chapter 7: There's Something About the Wolverine

Logan blew out a stream of smoke, taking his time to savour the delicate flavours of his Cuban cigar. There wasn't much left of this one, and he only had two more left. He had to say that Elrond was very patient. In fact, the only other person who had ever been this patient had been Charles Xavier. "Well," he began, drawing out the vowel lazily. "I come from a really really different place to this."

"Yes?" said Strider, who seemed eager for him to elaborate.

Logan thought for a while. How was he going to approach this? He really wasn't in the mood to describe either Canada or New York in detail. "There are lots of tall buildings there," he said.

"What sort of buildings?" pressed Gandalf. "Towers? Castles? Forts?"

"Banks, and business buildings, and more business buildings...and hotels," said Logan.

"What's a 'hoe-tell'?" said Strider. He'd known that it would be confusing.

"It's like an inn, you know, only...bigger," said Logan. "But no, I didn't spend a lot of time in those. Wasn't rich enough, you see. It costs an arm and a leg to stay a night in a hotel."

"It does?" said Strider, who looked appalled. He wasn't the only one.

"Yeah, it's daylight robbery if you ask me," said Logan, completely oblivious to the fact that the ranger had misinterpreted him.

"Why would anyone stay in a 'hoe-tell' if that's the price?" asked Glorfindel.

"You know some people," said Logan. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, scattering a bit of cigar ash on the floor in the process. "They have enough money to drown in, and I'm not one of them."

"Money cannot buy you replacement limbs," said Strider.

"Actually, it can," said Logan, "but why would they need them?"

"You said it cost 'an arm and a leg' to stay in a hotel," Erestor reminded him.

"What—oh. Do I really have to explain everything to you people? It's just a saying that we have. It means that it costs a lot. Geez, do you really think that people would get amputations to live in a hotel? That's what hospitals are for."

"What is a 'hospital'?" asked Erestor. "Does it have anything to do with hospitality?"

"Well, I've heard that the food is awful," said Logan. Since he was going to do so much talking, then perhaps there wasn't enough time to properly enjoy his cigar. Why waste it then? He pressed the burning end of it against his hand, winced as the heat seared his flesh, and then continued on speaking, all the while getting great satisfaction from the disgusted looks which he was receiving from all assembled. Elrond, to his credit, had not reacted much.

"Can we open the windows a little wider please?" said Glorfindel. "Smoke is bad enough."

"Don't you eat meat, Goldilocks?" said Logan, unable to resist. He flashed a brilliant grin at the elf, who only scowled at him more. There was such a lot of satisfaction to be had from annoying dignified individuals.

"Logan, I am sorry to interrupt," said Strider, "but I thought we were talking about your life."

"Oh right," said Logan. "Anyway, we have these tall buildings, and the outside walls are all made out of glass...and big lengths of steel. They're so tall that they touch the sky, well, they don't really, but you know what I mean. At night, there are so many lights that it's just as bright as day, at least at ground level. Looking down from above, you'd think you were looking down on a nest of colourful fireflies. But the best bit is being in the dark bits, you know, where all the excitement happens..."

Aragorn felt a headache coming on. Logan had gone from describing his city to describing the establishments of disputable repute in his city. That was one detail that no one really needed to know about. Unfortunately, Logan had become very good at elaborating, and he was also very animated now. The man had gotten up, and was waving his hands around as he described those places in excruciating detail. And it really was excruciating. This was not the type of thing one spoke of in Lord Elrond's study.

"I beg your pardon, Master Logan," said Gandalf, stopping Logan in mid-sentence as he regaled them with a tale of one particularly colourful evening, "we have heard much of your city, but we still do not know much about you. Your claws, for example; how did you get those?"

"These?" said Logan. He extended his claws.

"Yes, those," said Elrond. "May I see them, Master Logan?"

Logan grinned. He didn't mind showing off his claws at all. Elrond probed at his hand with expert fingers, trying to determine where the claws actually began. "Can you retract them for me please?" said Elrond. Logan did so abruptly, causing Elrond to stiffen. The Wolverine's grin only widened. He liked having this effect on others. "I see no gaps for them to emerge through," said the elf in confusion.

"That's not a problem," said Logan. "The claws go through skin."

"Does it hurt?" asked Aragorn. He winced inwardly at the thought of those claws cutting through muscle and skin every time Logan extended or retracted his claws.

"Whaddya think?" said Logan.

"I'll take that as a yes," said the ranger.

"But that would make it most inefficient," said Elrond.

"It would be inefficient if one was normal, and Logan is not," said Strider.

"He's right, y'know," said Logan. "I heal quickly, and as for pain; well, it's an old friend."

"Whoever did this to you must have really hated you," said Glorfindel.

"He didn't really hate me," said Logan. "He just didn't like me. The feeling was mutual."

"What happened to him?" asked Aragorn. Knowing Logan, it wouldn't be nothing.

"Hey, he gave me these claws," said Logan, extending said claws again and waving them around just to remind everyone that he had them. "Of course I paid him back."

"What did you do, Logan?" said the ranger.

"I showed him how well these claws worked," said Logan. There was a dark glint in his eye, and a twisted sort of satisfaction. "Artists like to know that people appreciate their work."

"But why did he do it to you in the first place?" asked Glorfindel. "The only reason I can think of is immense hatred, and he did not hate you, you said."

"Well...it's like this." Logan told them about how he had once been a mercenary for a certain man named William Stryker. Apparently, this Stryker had promised to make him invincible, and Logan —who had not been called Logan back then— had somehow agreed to undergo a twisted experiment which involved cutting him open and incorporating a strange metal called 'Adamantium' into his skeleton. "I mean, as soon as it started, I regretted it, because it effing hurt," said Logan. "I only survived because of what I am. I'm what they call a mutant. I'm...not like other people."

"How did we guess that?" murmured Aragorn.

"I got myself the hell out of there, and tried to hide. Only they kept on coming after me. I lived in the wild," said Logan, ignoring the ranger's rhetorical question.

"If you lived in the wild, then how come you could not light a fire?" asked Aragorn.

"I can light fires, just not with flint," said Logan. "I used sticks and wood shavings, y'know, turning the wood around and around, and creating so much friction that the—"

"I meant no offence when I asked you, Logan," said Aragorn, afraid that he might have distracted Logan too much. "It was simply curiosity. I cannot imagine a world where men do not carry flint around with them at all times. Please, do carry on with your tale."

"Are there more of you out there?" asked Elrond. The elven lord looked thoughtful.

"Yeah," said Logan. "We all have different powers. My...friend Storm can control the weather. Chuck —that's the guy who helped me after I lost my memory for fifteen years— could read minds and control other people's thoughts. He once threatened to make me believe that I was a six year old girl for the rest of my life because I was smoking."

"I would love to know that little trick," said Glorfindel darkly. "It is a most effective threat, and very creative."

"Not to mention that it would probably save us from having to smell that noxious odour ever again," added Erestor.

"It's not noxious, you morons," said Logan. "You two just don't have any taste."

"Obviously this 'Chuck' shared our views," Erestor pointed out.

"Yeah, well, Chuck was just plain weird," said Logan.

"Yet you respect him," said Aragorn. "I can tell."

"He was weird, but he had good ideas, and he helped me," said Logan. "Besides, he genuinely wanted to help people. He was the one who ran the school for all those mutant kids."

"Why would young goats need schooling?" said a rather confused Erestor.

"He means children," said Aragorn, before the elves could misinterpret this too much and start laughing. Well, they were probably too dignified and polite to laugh, unlike Logan, but he needed Logan to talk about himself, not rant about his bruised ego. "That is what Logan's people call children."

"If I were a child, I would be insulted," said Erestor.

"None of the kids minded," said Logan. "It's just the way things are."

"This 'Chuck' sounds decent," said Gandalf. Up until now, he had said very little, for he was content with letting Aragorn do the questioning. The ranger knew Logan the best out of all of them and could probably ask better questions.

"They were all decent people in that school," said Logan. "I mean, Scott was just as prudish as you guys, but he was still decent, even if he did get on my nerves. Storm's just really protective of the kids and she'd do anything to keep them safe. And Jean..." He trailed off, and his eyes became glazed, as if he was seeing something which only he could see. The claws slowly retracted. Logan wandered back to his seat and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees, staring broodingly at the floor.

"Yes, I heard you shouting that name in your sleep that night at the Prancing Pony," prompted the ranger. "Who is Jean?"

"She was..." Logan struggled to find the appropriate words. He swallowed and closed his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and began again. "I loved her."

Silence greeted that declaration. Aragorn and Elrond exchanged glances; both of them knew what it was like to love a lady, and from Logan's wording, they could all deduce that she had either left him or died, or both. However, they stayed quiet, preferring to let Logan speak when he was ready.

"Jean was...special," said Logan. "It's so hard to explain. She was a doctor at the school—"

"Excuse me, but what is a doctor?" asked Aragorn.

Logan seemed so depressed that he didn't even bother to make fun of the ranger for not knowing the meaning of the word. "That's someone who heals others," he said.

"A healer," said Elrond. "Like Estel and I."

"Yeah, like you two, only she didn't use weeds," said Logan. "She was lovely and thoughtful and kind and sweet, and she was basically engaged to Scott. I never knew what she saw in him."

"You said Scott was decent," said Erestor.

"Sure, he was decent enough, but he was boring," said Logan. "Then again, it's rude to speak ill of the dead."

"What happened?" asked Aragorn. Logan sounded very jealous of this Scott, and he needed to distract the man before he launched another rant.

"So there was this one time when things got out of hand," said Logan. "This dam was breaking. We were all going to die; even me. No one ever said I couldn't drown."

"It is good to know that you are not completely invincible," said Glorfindel. "It makes you a little more tolerable."

"I am completely charming, thank you very much," said Logan. "But that's not really the point, even if it is an obvious truth. Anyway, we were all going to drown or get crushed by water, but Jean had powers. She could use her mind to move things, so she kept the water from coming at us just long enough for us to get away; but that didn't include her."

"She was a noble woman," said Elrond quietly.

"Yeah, she was," said Logan. "Only, she didn't really die."

"I thought you said that she did," said Glorfindel.

"That's what everyone thought, until she reappeared," said Logan. "I mean, there were tons of water coming down on her. According to some goddamned laws of Physics which I know nothing about, she should have been crushed. And if she hadn't been crushed, then she should have drowned. But Storm and I found her a couple of months later by the lake, looking as if she was sleeping. Oh, and the rocks were floating around in mid-air."

Aragorn wished that he hadn't been sipping water at that moment, for he sprayed his mouthful of water all over Logan when the floating rocks were mentioned. Logan leapt to his feet. "Hey! Watch where you're spitting!"

"I apologize," said Aragorn. "You took me by surprise."

"At least you didn't see the floating rocks," said Logan. "And we also found Scott's glasses."

To the inhabitants of Middle Earth, a 'glass' was a cup made out of glass, so they automatically assumed that 'glasses' referred to multiple cups made out of glass. Why were cups important to the story?

"I don't mean cups," said Logan. He seemed to have learned that there were a great number of things which Middle Earth did not have. "Glasses are these things which you wear over your eyes when you have eye problems, you know, to help you see better."

"Then I guess we elves will not know of them at all," said Glorfindel.

"All right! I know you're perfect. Stop rubbing it in my face," said Logan. "Anyway, Scott was never without his glasses because they stopped his eyes from shooting fire at everything —that was his power, you see, and he couldn't control it. He was never without those glasses, so when we found the glasses and not him, we knew that something was wrong. That was when we found Jean, lying there as if she was asleep and dreaming about me —she was smiling, you know."

"You are indeed humble, Master Logan," said Gandalf.

"All right, so maybe she was dreaming about Scott," grumbled Logan. "But I'd like to think it was me. So, anyway, regardless of what or who she was dreaming about, we took her back to the school and waited for her to wake up."

"Did she?" said Aragorn.

"Sure she did," said Logan wryly. "And that was some awakening. She looked at me, sat up, and then started making out with me, right there, in the hospital, on the surgery table."

"What did she just start doing?" asked Erestor.

"Uh...she started kissing me, you know, and she wanted to f...uh...how do I put this poetically...make love—"

"I do not think we need to know this bit," said Elrond rather abruptly.

"But you do," protested Logan. "That was a great moment, and besides, it's critical. You see, the Jean I knew would not have tried to get into my pants—uh—charm me like that. She was a lot more subtle, and sophisticated. So I knew something was wrong, and I told her to stay there while I got help. Only she didn't like that, and she threw me against the wall."

"I am beginning to admire this woman very much," said Glorfindel.

"Yeah, she threw me against the wall without laying a hand on me," said Logan. That made Glorfindel pause.

"The mind power," guessed Aragorn.

"Exactly," said Logan. "Anyway, she just walked out, and we couldn't find her until it was too late."

"What happened to Scott?" said Erestor.

"My guess is that she turned him into dust, just like she turned all those other people into dust," said Logan.

"But why would she do that?" said an appalled Aragorn. "I thought she loved him."

"I didn't understand it either, but Chuck explained it to me," said Logan. He explained to them about how the woman had two sides; one good and one dark. When she had used her powers to stop the water, it had unleashed her dark side. Then she had joined Magneto, Logan's enemy who was most keen on world domination. With his powers over metal, and her being destructive in every sense of the word, they had created a very dangerous mixture. Aragorn was gripping the armrests of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. He could not help but feel pity for Logan. The man must have been in such a dilemma, and everyone knew that Logan did not have much skill when it came to analysing situations.

"What happened at the end?" asked Elrond.

"I couldn't let her go on destroying everything," said Logan. He raked his fingers through his hair. "I just had to stop her, and there was only one way to do it."

"How could you kill her?" said Glorfindel. "You wouldn't even be able to get near her. She was more or less indestructible."

"So am I," said Logan. He fell silent, and did not say anymore. He didn't need to. The meaning was clear. They could all feel his pain. Aragorn laid a hand on the other man's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"That was a brave thing that you did, Logan," said Gandalf.

"I hate myself for doing it, for not being strong enough to find another solution," said Logan.

"You should not blame yourself," said Elrond. "You did the only thing that you could have done, and you saved the world."

"I still hate what I did, and nothing that anyone says is going to make me feel better about it," muttered Logan. "Anyway, are we done yet? I'm hungry."

"I believe supper is waiting for us," said Elrond, standing up and pushing his chair back. Food was usually a very good cure for many things. And even if it could not cure Logan's heart, then at least it would make him feel a little better.

Supper was a muted affair, mostly due to the fact that everyone was worried about Frodo. There were, however, plenty of fine dishes to enjoy. Just because Merry and Pippin weren't in the best of moods didn't mean that they had lost their appetites. Logan could smell the food from a long way off, and the exotic aromas made him feel heady. He breathed in appreciatively. "You people might be some of the most unfriendly prudes I've ever met," he said, "but you sure know what the word 'hospitality' means."

"If we were unfriendly, Master Logan, then we would not be hospitable," said Elrond calmly as he took his place at the head of the table. The meal was taking place on a large balcony which overlooked the rest of the valley, and the balcony was lit by multitudes of lanterns around the edges. There were also a few candles on the table, carefully placed so that the wax would not drip on the food. The bronze candelabras depicted swans gracefully dipping their heads. The detail was so intricate that one could see the patterns of the swans' feathers, and if they hadn't had candles sticking out of them, they would have looked as if they were alive in the flickering light from the lanterns and the candles.

A sickle-shaped moon hung in the sky, casting a soft silver glow over everything. The waterfall sparkled as if it was a ribbon studded with diamonds, forever falling downwards. Somewhere, a cricket chirped, and it was answered by the hollow hoots of an owl.

Logan reached for a whole roast pheasant, ignoring the looks which some of the others were giving him. "If I believed in Heaven, I would have thought that I was there," he said as a he ripped a leg off the bird. The view was very nice and all, but food was more important. Grease and juice ran down his wrist. He licked up the trickle of liquid before it could go down his sleeve.

"Would you like a napkin, Master Logan?" said Gandalf.

"What's the point?" asked the mutant. "I don't want to waste any of this."

"I am glad that you appreciate food, but did you know that table manners are important too?" asked Strider.

Logan gave a nondescript grunt. He was too busy enjoying his meal to make proper syllables.

"Do you even care?" said the ranger.

"Probably not," said Logan. He extended one claw and proceeded to slice through the bird's body so that he could have a manageable portion.

"I think Logan would make a perfect ranger," declared one of the twins. Logan still had not figured out which was which, and he didn't really give a damn. All elves looked more or less the same anyway, apart from Goldilocks, who was blond.

"What makes you say that?" asked the other twin. The twin who had first spoken smirked at Strider, who simply rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"Well, he's gruff, reckless, with superior senses, and it is convenient to have cutlery incorporated into one's body when one is travelling in the wild. It saves having to with dirty fingers. What say you, Estel?"

"Elrohir, you have to remember that those claws have gutted a multitude of things, including men," said Strider mildly.

"Come to think of it," said Elrohir, "it is slightly nauseating when you put it that way."

"More than just slightly, Elrohir," said his brother. "Considering Logan's prowess, which Estel has told us about, there could be the blood of thousands on those claws, not to mention other bodily fluids."

"Do you mind?" snapped Logan. "That's my supper you're talking about." These elves really were amazing creatures; somehow, they could make a hungry Wolverine lose his appetite.

Rivendell was utterly enchanting and otherworldly. Some would gladly spend the rest of their lives here, with only peace and quiet and beauty surrounding them. No stain from the outside world reached the abode of Lord Elrond, or so it seemed. It was timeless. But Logan was not content to remain. No, he was a creature of action and instinct. It was part of his nature to fight. Such serenity did not suit him, and he knew, just as everyone else knew, that he would get bored in this place soon enough.

Besides, he wanted to go home. He might have complained continuously about New York when he had been there, but the truth is, he actually liked being able to complain about it. He needed to return. The Wolverine did not belong with immortal and otherworldly elves who had great appreciation for fine art and all things beautiful. Well, he liked beautiful things too, but his idea of beauty was quite different from theirs. He was alone here; no one understood what he was. He could tell that they were still confused, and he didn't really blame them. After all, they didn't even know what cells were.

He strolled down the narrow winding paths aimlessly. As tired as he was, he could not sleep. He was too worried about getting home. Elrond and Gandalf had promised to try their best to send him back to New York, but he had a feeling that they were as confused as Strider was.

Logan was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice where he was going until he became aware that someone was watching him. His first reaction was to prepare for a fight, but then he remembered that this was Rivendell. Besides, he didn't smell the scent of fear that was usually there if someone was about to start a fight with him.

He looked around, and then he thought he was hallucinating. In his lifetime, Logan had seen a great many things, and never had he seen anyone or anything as beautiful as this vision. Granted, many of the things which he had seen had been ugly in the extreme, but he had not thought that there was something beautiful enough to mesmerize him in such a way.

The woman seemed to be gliding towards him. No, not a woman, but a goddess; if he was religious in any way, he would have said that she was Venus herself, only not naked the way most artworks depicted her, which was a pity. Her dark hair draped over her shoulders like a cape, and she seemed to glow from within. Long lashes framed her clear grey eyes. At first glance, one would have thought that she was in her early-twenties, but her eyes held so much wisdom that she could not possibly be so young. Logan quickly used his skills of deduction and concluded that she had to be an elf.

"Hey," he said, finally finding his voice. Elf or not, this was one extremely attractive female. He simply could not resist. No man could.

She dipped her head in reply to his greeting, if it could be called that. "You must be Master Logan," she said. Her voice was low and melodious, and very regal. "I have heard much about you."

"I'm sure you have," said Logan, grinning. "I have become quite notorious around these parts, haven't I?"

"Only you have called Lord Glorfindel effeminate and survived to tell the tale," said the lady solemnly. "No one else would have been brash enough."

"Goldilocks will have to try harder if he wants to kill me," said the mutant, drawing himself up to his full impressive height. He knew the effect he had on women. They were frightened and intrigued by him, and they were attracted to him because he was dangerous and exciting. Whether they stayed with him was another matter, but he usually never cared much about that. In fact, he hadn't cared about that part at all until he'd met Jean.

She laughed politely at his boast. It sounded like the clear bells of a cathedral tolling in the distance, only more beautiful. Heck, everything about her was absolute perfection. 'Eat your paintbrushes, Leonardo,' thought Logan. 'You painted the Mona Lisa, but I'm standing here talking to this girl who's ten thousand times better than the woman with no eyebrows.'

"Lord Glorfindel is a dangerous enemy to have," said the elven woman. She was so serious, so courteous...and so distant.

"Like he can scare me," scoffed Logan in an attempt to make her warm up to him. "Hey, you know my name, but who are you ... uh... my lady?" Well, if he was to win the fair lady's heart, there was no harm in overdoing the courtesies.

"I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond and of Celebrian, who is the daughter of Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood."

"Hold it!" said Logan with a laugh. "I can only absorb so much information at once! Anyway, I was too busy listening to your voice...my lady."

"All that is of no importance," she said. "You only need to remember that I am the daughter of Elrond, and of his wife, Celebrian. However, I must warn you that Glorfindel is a very powerful elven lord. You might not think much of him now, but he will make you change your mind."

"And the sun's gonna rise from the east—I mean, the west," said Logan.

"Are you really so certain of your own prowess?"

"Sure. You wanna come and see me prove it?"

Arwen raised an eyebrow at him in incredulity. Her expression, however, did not have quite the same effect as her father's. It only encouraged Logan more. He leaned in closer. "Do I get a prize if I win, hmm?"

"Very smooth, Logan," said a voice from behind him. The Wolverine had been so busy flirting that he had not been paying attention to what had been going on around him. Now he regretted that, for the voice was very familiar, and it sounded hostile.

"Hey, Strider," he said, turning around. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Apparently not," said the ranger. His eyes were dark, and there was no amusement in them. "I was not expecting you either." Flanking him were the twin sons of Elrond, and they looked murderous. At least, that was what Logan assumed. With elves, it was awfully hard to tell.

"Estel!" said Arwen. Her delight was obvious. She quickly pushed past Logan and embraced Strider. "I am so glad that you are safe."

"As am I, Arwen," said the ranger. He seemed to have almost forgotten about Logan, for he was smiling with such pure joy that he seemed a lot younger than his eighty-seven years. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him, tilting her face upwards to look at him, before his lips met hers in one of the most passionate and heated kisses which Logan had ever seen. And Logan had seen a lot of kisses.

Suddenly, everything fell into place. No wonder Strider had been so angry, and no wonder Arwen had been so cold. "Honestly, Strider," said Logan. "I didn't know that she was your girl."

"Excuse me?" said one of the twins. Wait...if Arwen was the daughter of Elrond, then these twin sons of Elrond would be...her brothers. Ah, bother. As if the protective lover was not enough, he had to deal with protective brothers as well. And he really didn't want to stab these people. Both Elrond and Strider had been kind to him, and he was too tired to clean up such big messes.

"I meant no offense, really," he said, holding up his hands. "It's okay. I'm just gonna back away, all right?"

"I think that's a very good idea," said Strider, with a little less animosity.

"Hey, you really can't blame me. I didn't know," said Logan. "Really, I just saw a pretty girl, and I thought, why the heck not?"

"Master Logan," said one of the twins. "You are making things worse."

"You must be tired after such a long journey," said the other twin, quickly interrupting. That must be Elladan. He was usually the one diffusing tense situations. Logan had picked up that little pattern. "Why don't you go and get some rest? We shall see you in the morning."

"Yeah, I'll go and do that," he said, grateful that someone was giving him a way out of this mess. "You guys enjoy your evening."

"Do you need someone to take you back to your room?" asked Elladan.

"No, no, I'll be fine," said Logan. "And Strider?"

"Yes?" said the ranger.

"Nice catch, pal." With that, Logan strode back down the path, retracing his steps. All the while, he was cursing his bad luck. Why did all the pretty ones have to be taken? 'At least Strider has some sense of humour,' he thought. With nothing to do, and no one to talk to, Logan headed for the room which had been allotted to him.

It was easily large enough to be a highly expensive room if he had been in a hotel. The mattress was once again straw-stuffed, and he was glad that he did not have hay fever. There were hangings on the wall; these depicted scenes from great battles past. One of them even had a dragon in it. He had to be impressed with how realistic the woven dragons looked. It was as if whoever had woven it had seen a dragon. Wait, were there dragons in Middle Earth? After all, if there were elves and wizards, and hobbits, then why couldn't there be dragons?

The next tapestry was one of a great city. Or it could have been a very large wedding cake. Logan really couldn't tell. It was pale, and had many tiers. The only thing which indicated that it wasn't really a cake was the rest of the picture, which had vast green plains with armies marching across them. Unless someone had an infatuation with toy soldiers and furry green tablecloths, then Logan was pretty sure that it was a fortress city of some sort.

A basin stood in the corner of the room, with a jug full of water beside it, and a tray of scented soap. Logan ignored the soap and splashed his face with water. He could have a proper bath later, after he'd slept. He was not in the mood for soaks, whether they were hot or cold, long or short.

Removing his boots, he tossed them to one side. The dirt encrusted jeans came off too. The leather jacket was flung over the back of the chair, and his filthy torn t-shirt was left on the floor. He felt a little guilty about dirtying the crisp linen sheets, but then decided that Elrond probably paid the servants to clean up after him, and that he shouldn't worry. If he was so clean, then those servants wouldn't need to work for their pay, and Elrond wouldn't need so many servants, so therefore some servants would be sacked. All in all, he was doing those servants a favour, or so he convinced himself. He lay down and closed his eyes.

The sound of the waterfall in the distance lulled him to sleep.

A/N: Sorry about the relatively short chapter this week. I was stuck in a rut, and I was also trying to work on some assignments. I know this chapter is full of dialogue about Logan's recent past. If that bored you, then I apologize in advance. Now that we're in Rivendell, Logan can start meeting the other characters, and I have quite a good idea for the Council of Elrond. However, if you have advice and/or suggestions, please don't hesitate to tell me. I take every review into consideration. And if you spot any mistakes, please do inform me ASAP. I tend to miss typos when I proofread, and would be grateful if people pointed out those embarrassing mistakes so I can fix them.

Note to all: If you're going to leave deprecating notes about my person, and not just comment on the story, then save yourself the bother and the potential embarrassment. You probably have better things to do with your time, and I certainly would rather not read reviews which have nothing whatsoever to do with my stories. Have a problem with me as a person? I have a blog, and you can find the link on my profile. Contact me there. Or, you could log in and send me a signed PM if you've got the guts to deal with the reply.