a/n: i'm writing this while i'm in class so if some of it doesn't make sense, don't blame me. ^_~. love, sarah

Legolas walked more swiftly once he was in the actual park. The benches and bushes blurred by. Legolas' eyes were filled but he didn't feel like he was crying. He was just upset. All of the sudden, he nearly tripped over a body lying in the pathway of a young man.

Legolas looked down at him. His skin was pale and mottled, and pierced and tattooed. His head was shaven except for a strip of raven hair down the middle of his head, and that was straightened to stand up in spikes. His clothes were tattered and worn and had many rings and chains, and his black boots were scuffed. A few feet above his head lie a puddle of vomit. Legolas smelled him from where he now stood. He approached the man and cautiously crouched next to him, and carefully nudged him with an outstretched finger.

"Fucker!" the man yelled, and jumped back, and then to his feet. Legolas stood and realized the man was nearly as tall as he. But he did not feel threatened. He felt the youth of the man as though it were written on his forehead. But as he watched, the man's face changed. "Fuckin' A! Fuckin' Dungeons and Dragons, man!"

Legolas wondered what the fascination with the root word 'fuck' was. He had not before heard this word. But he did not feel the need to work it into his dialect. The man acted as though he recognized him, and Legolas almost welcomed the mention of two dreaded things. Dreaded, but familiar. He decided it must be an expression of alarm and danger. Legolas threw out an upturned hand to signal peace. "My good man, I meant you no harm. My apologies to having not seen you--"

The man cut off his apologies. "Jesus Christ! Look at your arm, man!" Legolas looked down at his shoulder and realized he was soaked in blood. "Come on man, I'll get you a bandage or something." His hand wandered up to his head and clutched a particularly red mark. "Shit, I'll bet I hit my goddamn head again." He looked at Legolas. "Come on, man." They began to walk, in the direction that Legolas had been walking in. They came to another, larger, apartment complex. Legolas surveyed it. There were more windows, and no bricks. Just slats of wood. The apartments were smaller and more numerous, but he decided he liked it more. "What's your name, man?" the man asked him.

Legolas internally sighed. "My name is Legolas," he tried, almost questioningly, as though he knew the man would not believe him.

"Hey, man, bad-ass, I got named after Tolkien, too!" The man looked at him with a sort of awe, then shook his head and continued. "Damn, out of everybody I've ever met... Anyways, my name's Beren." Now it was Legolas' turn to stare in awe. "...but my friends call me Bear."

"Surely," Legolas started, "this is not a chance meeting." Bear threw his head back and laughed.

"Crap and you sound like Tolkien too." He noticed the look that Legolas gave him. "And you look like him!" Legolas looked away, bored with the attention.

"I was supposed to go to the Ren Fest today," Legolas substituted.

"Ohhh, I see," Bear said, appearing to understand. Legolas figured he had said the right thing. They passed the metal staircase and went to a ground level door. Bear opened the locked door. The apartment smelled vaguely like Carter's, but was actually clean. "Cigarette?" he asked, planting a small white stick in his mouth and holding one out to Legolas. Legolas watched as Bear took a small vial of fluid, waved his thumb over it. A flame shot up from the vial and lit the "cigarette." Bear put the vial in his pocket and proceeded to smoke the "cigarette." Legolas politely declined and the offered cigarette disappeared into Bear's shirt pocket. But Legolas watched him smoke the cigarette out of the corner of his eye, greatly interested. He had never seen anyone smoke something other than through a pipe yet this "Bear" stood before him, puffing away on a white stick. Bear exclaimed, "Oh yeah, shit, your arm." Legolas looked down again. The blood was turning a deep brown and getting sticky. Bear ran into the 'bathroom.' "Whoa, gotta piss first," he called, and Legolas made a face as he heard the sound of Bear relieving himself.

Legolas glanced around at the apartment. The furniture was sparse, and the carpet was stained, but both were clean. There were a few glass trays on small tables and the ground that had the ends of smoked cigarettes in them, and ashes. There was a 'trashcan' full of metal cans with script on them. There were parchment-tapestries on the wall with pictures of people; some also had script on them. Bear soon reappeared with a roll of bandaging. "Come in here, man, and take off your shirt." Legolas followed him into the bathroom and pulled his shirt off. The cut was not as bad as Bear had thought. "What happened man?" Bear asked as he handed Legolas a wet washcloth.

Legolas bathed the wound. "She was angry with me, and cut me."

Bear gave him a sympathetic glance. "Aw, man, huh? That sucks. My girlfriend left me a month ago, but it's all right though cos I have a good job. Did she kick you out?" Legolas found himself nodding. "Yeah, looks like she's a real tiger," Bear remarked staring at Legolas' shoulder. Legolas shrugged. "Man, I'm sorry, she's probably pretty cool most of the time. What's her name?"

Legolas thought of Everlease. That was not the lady he had words with this morning. "Mary," he said quietly.

"Mmm," Bear nodded. "The wind cries Mary."

Legolas found this statement beautiful but disturbing. "I don't want to speak of her right this moment, please," Legolas murmured.

"Right, right." Bear looked at his eyes. "You OK, man? We don't gotta talk about it." Legolas looked away, and took the roll of bandaging Bear gave him. He shakily rolled it around his shoulder and under his arms several times, then Bear cut it with sheaves and put a small clip on the bandage to stay it from unravelling.

"Hey, man, I don't know how attached you are to this shirt but it's all bloody now." Legolas shrugged.

"I suppose it's worthless now," he admitted.

"Yeah." Bear threw it in the trashcan. "I got a Ramones shirt you can wear. And---" he paused, "some jeans?" Legolas did not appear to care. So Bear went into his bedroom and dug the clothes out of his closet. "You look like you can wear these. Oh, and here's some chucks." Bear handed him the clothes and kicked some black and white slippers at him that laced up on the top. Legolas stared at the shoes. "Oh, socks, you're right," Bear guessed, and threw him some soccer socks. He left the room and went to dress his own head wound. "Goddamn, I smell like puke again," he lamented as he wandered out of the room. Legolas carefully put on the clothes, then walked back into the larger room where Bear was standing absently.

"Hey, man, are you hungry?" Legolas shrugged. "You wanna go to the Ren Fest, dontcha."

Legolas thought about it. He really didn't have anywhere else to go. "I guess."

"Well come on, man, let's go! We can get some of those big ass turkey legs! Crap, man, I haven't been there in like three years!" Bear grabbed his keys and little box of cigarettes off the table and motioned for Legolas to follow him. He had a small car like Everlease. "We'll go to Shawn's and see if he wants to get off his ass and go."

Legolas winced, and wandered what the difference between an ass and an ass turkey was. He guessed it didn't matter.