Dear readers: Sorry it took so long to get this next chapter up. Thanks to Undraya and RK9 for reviewing, but for next time it's going to take more than two reviews to get me up and writing. : (

Disclaimer: Do I really have to write this? We all know I don't own anything except the original characters and these are just so depressing!

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Years it had been since the elf heard the cry of a gull, but still it awoke in him a sad longing for Valinor. It took him a moment to realize that he had run to an unfamiliar shore. People milled through the streets, and he noticed that there was not an elf to be seen among them. Hearing footsteps running down the alley he was in, and fearing capture by these strange men, Legolas ducked through the nearest doorway and into a smithy of some kind.

The footsteps that he heard were not those of a hostile posse, but those of a distraught newlywed, stumbling through the town in hopes of finding something – anything – familiar. As he reeled first into, then through a door, he entered a very familiar place: his smithy. As he got reoriented, he noticed that something was not right. It wasn't anything displaced or new, as it had been when Jack first met him, more of a feeling in the air. He heard a soft noise behind him, and spun around to face...

himself.

At least, that is what he thought he saw. The figure who was looking in a shocked manner at him shared the same facial structure and piercing eyes, but his hair was long and straight and his ears, unlikely as it may seem, were pointed. He wore outlandish clothing, and was armed with a bow and arrows instead of a sword or cutlass or even a pistol. To the elf, the man who entered looked just as similar, and just as different, but he did not recognize the weapon he carried.

Will was the first to speak. "Who and what are you and what are you doing in my smithy?" He wasn't about to trust this stranger, but he needed to know what was going on. For all he knew, this stranger could have been sent as an assassin by whoever had captured the Pearl. And although he mistrusted the human, Legolas recognized the honest air around him. "My name is Legolas, son of Thurandil. My companions were captured, so I ran to get help. I found myself here, not that I know where here is." He saw the man relax, but they were both still wary.

The assessing silence was broken at a soft yet urgent knocking at the door. Moving towards the doorway, Will told Legolas, "You hide. I don't exactly trust you, but I don't want you to get caught, either." With an understanding nod, Legolas quickly climbed up into the rafters of the building. This startled Will for a moment, but he soon shook it off and opened the door. Upon opening the door, he came face to face with Jack Sparrow's eyes. "Who are you?" he asked the girl who was standing there. She just looked at him, but she didn't say anything. Thinking that she was shy or perhaps mute, Will tried again, asking, "Were you looking for me?" She stared hard at him – those eyes were beginning to frighten him – and then nodded curtly, handing him a letter. She then pushed past him, into the smithy, and placing a hand on her hips, looked up into the rafters and beckoned to Legolas. Startled into doing what she asked, he landed lightly and received the letter she gave him. "How did you know I was there, child?" he questioned softly. She made no reply, only stared. Giving up momentarily, he opened the letter and read:



Legolas,

This girl is connected to the kidnapper of your friends somehow; I found her and sent her to you. Her name is Liona. She has lost her voice in a more permanent way than is usual, but I have given her a gift. As it was with Huon the Hound, she will speak before her doom, but her death is not her doom. Care for her, and trust who she trusts.

Círdan



"Who is this Círdan?" Will asked, puzzling over his own letter. His was similar to the one Legolas received, but instead of explaining her silence, clarified that she was, in fact, the daughter of Jack Sparrow, although Jack thought she had died at a young age.

"He is an elf, as I am, and a master shipwright. He is actually the only one who can build ships able to make the crossing to Valinor," clarified Legolas, now looking at the twelve-year-old girl with new respect. It wasn't just anyone that the shipwright of the Havens would watch over.

"Are there a lot of elfs where you come from?" asked Will, blown away by this fact. Elfs were supposed to be in fairy tales, not reality.

"Not elfs, it's elves, but yes, there are," said Legolas. "Aren't there any here?"

"Not that I've ever seen, at least not in reality. Artists have imagined what elfs – that is, elves look like, but not many have imagined anything like you, and those that did were laughed at."

The girl, meanwhile, was looking around the shop at the swords lining the walls. She had always loved to work with weaponry, but had never been allowed a sword of her own. She ran her gaze along each blade, appreciating the work it took to make them, until her gaze fastened on a particular sword. It was like none she had ever seen – lightweight, glistening, and shorter than the others. She could not help herself, but reached out to take hold of the hilt. Milliseconds before she did, Will noticed, and said, "Don't touch that! It's still hot!" But she took it anyway, and it felt cool to the touch. To her, the sword felt right, as if her hand was where it was meant to be. She looked at the sword, then at the two shocked men staring at her, and then for the first time in a month, she smiled.

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Author's note: yes, I do realize that Westron and English are probably not the same language, but I couldn't very well have the main characters not understand each other.