Chapter 1: Arrival To America

"So this is America..." Elrond poked his head out the taxi window, gazing up at the tall endless buildings that disappeared into the clouds. He pulled it back in, discouraged by the stench of the city. "Land of the free and..." He picked up the phamplet. "Home of the brave." It meant little to him, for he saw nothing free nor brave about it. Free was the river in Rivendell...His heart dropped at the thought of his city, long gone yet still remembered. He found little joy at being here...no comfort at all. No one had been there to greet him at the airport. He was like the many people hurrying about him, ignored and forgotten.

The little hope he had rested in the letter in his coat pocket...and at the prospect of being reunited with long lost friends. The lonely feeling would not lift from his soul, he felf old. His hand drifted to his pocket and he pulled out the neatly folded paper and opened it. A flame flickered within him as he read it over once again. Yet what made the flame steady was the name signed at the bottom; Legolas.

Young Legolas, or once young Legolas, for he was much older by now,yet still young in Elrond's ageless mind. He remembered how he was once his mentor...teaching him morals and princely things...the images came back to his mind like dusty photographs. A sunny afternoon on a balcony over looking the river...and young Legolas sitting restlessly on his chair, eager for lessons to be over...

The taxi hit a bump, causing his memories to shatter, bringing him back to his gloomy present day situation. As he looked around him, the buildings seemed less tall and finer. The air was less polluted, and the road less crowded. Gently, he folded the paper and placed it back into his pocket. "Almost there...I can sense it."

And he was correct, for seven blocks away was the home of Legolas and Haldir, sharing a fancy condo in one of the more attractive parts of the city. The taxi pulled up to it and Elrond held it with his steady gaze. It was a gothic styled building, with black statues of angels on the top corners, the stoney eyes watching over the city as if they were it's guardians. The archietexture was old, yet beautiful and Elrond couldn't help but to smile. "Ninth floor, room seventeen." He paid the driver and stepped out, grabbing his two suitcases and hat.

"Well, Elrond, time to go up there and meet them." His feet seemed to move on their own free will after his statement. And yes, he was nervous, very much so...and he wondered if they were.

He entered the building and went straight to the elevator, and went in. He never liked them much, but they were fast and convient, though to him the trip to the top floor seemed to take years. His heart began to beat faster, out of excitement, happiness...and fear. Fear that he wouldn't know them any more, that they had changed. The number nine lit up and the he stepped out into the corridor. He stood there quietly and motionless...the elevator behind him closed and went down.

"No turning back now, Elrond. Fate has brought you here." His ears listened intently, and some where he heard music playing...a modern group, but not distasteful. And running water...some one was washing dishes. His feet began to move again, and he walked down the hall to the first door on the right. His eyes focused in on the black iron number; seventeen.

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The Froddie: Yeah, short and sweet, but I like it, k? :P Another chapter will follow this...and I'm telling you, I'm really enjoying writing this one. ^.^ So review! Now!