A/N To my one faithful reader, Arabella Thorne: Thank you so much for encouraging me with this story. I can't tell you how it feels to read your reviews. I only hope that this will meet your expectations. Email me if you have any suggestions - I'd love to hear from you!

I also realized I haven't put a disclaimer on this yet...so here goes: This is a fan-fiction written solely for enjoyment (mostly mine, in writing it!) and not for financial gain. The characters are for the most part the creation of JRR Tolkien. A few characters are my own creation, and they can be rented out for a small fee.....

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Gimli grumbled under his breath from his seat behind Legolas. "It seems I spend an inordinate amount of time being baggage." He looked around to see if anyone took pity on his plight, but no one looked at him.

"Gimli," said the elf in front of him, "you are not baggage." His eyes crinkled in mirth and he looked at the ranger riding beside him. "I would never let Selaeya carry baggage."

Aragorn hid a grin as the dwarf began to sputter in outrage. "Peace, friend Gimli," he said with a chuckle. "You are more than welcome to ride with me, if you wish. But I assure you, as far as horses go, Selaeya has the smoother gait. I think you will find your time on him more pleasant.

"You are probably right, Aragorn. But I know that this horse despises me." Gimli sighed and re-adjusted himself on the seat. "I think one of these days - "

"Look!" Legolas interrupted, pointing at the meadow that opened before them. "Wargs are attacking something."

"It looks like two figures against the pack, does it not Legolas?" asked Aragorn, pulling his sword. "They need help."

"Then let us help them," said Gimli, eagerly pulling his axe. "My axe has not tasted warg-blood for many a day."

"It is indeed two," replied Legolas. "But one of them appears to be injured." Even as he spoke a figure fell to the ground. The three riders sped down the slope to the figures below when Legolas spoke again.

"More riders approach!" he exclaimed. "Look, it is Lord Elrond and -" he stopped in amazement. "It is my father. I wonder what he is doing?"

"Perhaps they saw the wargs and were following them," said Aragorn. "Hurry!"

Legolas spurred his horse faster. They were but a short distance away when he slowed, letting Gimli jump to the ground. He rode closer to the melee, then let his arrows ring. The wargs, sensing this new danger, began to growl and attack their prey more ferociously. Gimli gave a yell and felled one of the creatures with a mighty blow of his axe. Aragorn was no slacker either, taking down several of the creatures with his sword.

They advanced slowly toward the two figures in the center. It looked like the wargs were backing off when one of the attackers jumped. With a mighty growl it swiped at Elentaari, who barely managed to turn away. The creature caught her on the shoulder, tearing cloth and skin. Bravely she stood her ground over Elrohir, swinging her knife aggressively. One more warg fell to her knife, and another took its place. One came at her with a bound, and she stood steadily to meet it, but no deadly weight came at her. She blinked, and the warg was dead in front of her, an arrow in its side. She looked up as riders came from the side and front. Her knife fell to the ground as she dropped to her knees.

"Who are you?" asked one elf on a black horse. "Where do you come from?" He looked sternly at her, his eyes full of hate. She looked at the other elf who had jumped from his horse and ran to them.

"Elrohir!" the elf called. He knelt down beside the fallen elf and gently touched his face.

"Please," said Elentaari shakily, "he must see the healer at the last homely house. It's his only chance. Ereniel said the master of the last homely house could heal him." She swayed dizzily. "I found him in a tree. A warg got him, and we were bringing him here. Please help him!" She looked at the elf beside her and then her eyes closed. Elentaari gave in to the darkness and knew no more.

Elrond mounted his horse. "Aragorn, hand him to me," he commanded. Aragorn gently lifted Elrohir to Elrond's arms. "I'll meet you back at the house." He turned his horse and sped off, his son in his arms.

"I will take care of her," said the elf with the stern eyes. "If you wish, you may go with Elrond." He looked at Legolas. "I would speak with you, Legolas."

Legolas nodded. "I will help you with her, then, Father," he replied. Legolas looked at Aragorn and Gimli. "Follow Elrond, Aragorn, Gimli. I will follow behind shortly."

Aragorn looked at Legolas. "Are you sure, Legolas?" He spoke quietly, knowing there was little love between father and son. Gimli looked on with interest, then reached up to grab Aragorn's arm. Swiftly he was pulled up sit behind Aragorn.

"I will follow shortly. Elrond will need you," Legolas replied. He moved his horse closer to his father.

"We will wait for you in Rivendell, Legolas." Gimlli waved from his new perch behind Aragorn. Legolas watched as they rode from view.

"Father, I am surprised to see you here."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Elrond sent a messenger asking for help to look for his son. I am no friend of Elrond's but I know that he would help me with such a task. I could do no less." He looked at the figure laying on the ground. "Give me your bow, Legolas."

Legolas followed his father's eyes. "What do you need with my bow? She is not a threat."

"Nor shall she become one," his father replied tautly. "Not today, not ever."

"Father, I do not understand. Why should she become a threat?" Legolas was confused.

"Give me your bow, Legolas." His father ignored his question.

"No, Father. This is not right." He positioned his horse in front of the she-elf. "She has done no harm - indeed, she saved Elrohir. This is enough to win my gratitude."

"Do not defy me, Legolas," his father warned. Thranduil's face was dark with anger. "There are things here that you do not understand, nay, that you know naught of."

"Then explain them to me, Father," the elf retorted. "She is under my care, Sire. As she protected Elrohir, I will now protect her." He placed his hand meaningfully on the hilt of his knife.

Thranduil glared at his son. "So be it. But she is now your responsibility. I hope you do not live to regret this decision." He turned his horse around wrathfully. "Tell Lord Elrond I have returned to Mirkwood, and I am glad his son is safe." Thranduil sped off without a backward glance.

Legolas looked at his father's retreating form in consternation, then down at the she-elf. He jumped lightly from his horse and went to her, his mind whirling with questions. First though, he needed to get her to Elrond.