Disclaimer: Legolas and Mat aren't mine. I wish they were, but they aren't. But Amadhor, Varekai and Solstrom are. That is some consolation I guess. But not much.

---yes, this IS the Mat from Wheel of Time, and a lot of this I have written for people who have at least a small understanding of the books. so this is just a warning that you're going to see some WoT terms, like Aiel---

CHAPTER 1

Mat ran as fast as he could over the rough terrain, clutching at his black-hafted spear. The sword blade at the end gleamed in the sunlight, and the inscription on the shaft flashed noticeably. His long green coat billowed behind him, rippling like a banner on the wind. He grimaced, and wished he had had time to leave the coat somewhere. He knew it stood out against the stark background, an indicator to his pursuers of his location.

He glanced back, and nearly stumbled over a rock. The guards were gaining. He gave a frustrated sigh and tried to go faster, looking ahead to the treeline. He knew if he could reach that forest before they caught him, he could hide. Out here, on the flat, rocky plains, there was nowhere to go.

Shouts echoed behind him as he leapt a stream and darted into the woods. He almost regretted it when he saw the dark, looming trees that seemed crowded into the area, so closely that it made silence very difficult. His regrets disappeared immediately when he heard more shouts behind him, though. He dashed through the trees, dodging branches every so often, and finally hunkered down in a clump of bushes, careful not to rustle the leaves.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, but he was surprised to find that after what seemed like hours of waiting, the guards still had not passed the spot. Cautiously, he crept from the low brush, glancing around. For the first time it registered in his mind that he was lost.

"Light, where am I?" he muttered, gripping his spear tightly and looking around as if he expected something to leap out of the trees themselves. The leaves stirred with a slight breeze, and he jumped, whirling around quickly.

With a shake of his head, he forced himself to relax. "Now…which way did I come…?" he mumbled to himself, glancing back at what seemed to be a familiar trail. With a slight nod, he moved in the opposite direction, still talking to himself in a low voice. "No reason to see if they're out there waiting for me."

He walked for some time, moving unknowingly deeper into the forest, until an all-too familiar feeling entered his mind. The dice began to tumble inside his head, and he glanced around, seeing nothing.

Suddenly a voice came from somewhere to his left. "Drop your weapon." Mat tightened his grip on the spear, glaring defiantly at the dark woods around him. The voice repeated its message, and he shook his head, but did not say anything. Within an instant he caught a glimpse of broad arrowheads in the trees, their owners invisible to him. He whirled around, and saw that they had encircled him. Arrows pointed at him from every direction.

Gritting his teeth, he loosened his grip and let the spear fall to the ground. He still had his daggers. He hoped they would somehow not know about those.

The moment the weapon left his hands, shadowy shapes moved into view, and he could see the cloaked figures holding the bows. One of the forms stepped closer to him, and the nameless voice gained an appearance in his mind.

"Who do you be, stranger, and why do you come uninvited to the forest of Mirkwood?" Mat thought it strange that he had not noticed before, but the voice was quite melodious. It had a defined accent that made the words sound more beautiful than he had heard them said before, but yet it was an accent he could not place.

He stood straighter as he spoke. "My name is Matrim, and I came here to escape pursuit. I need a place to lie low."

The cloaked figure nodded, and Mat thought he caught a glimpse of blonde hair behind the drawn up hood. "Then you shall be escorted to Calentaur. I trust you will come willingly?" the voice seemed to allow no other answer than 'yes', so Mat responded with a nod.

In an instant his wrists were seized, though not roughly. A few of the bows lowered, and one of the cloaked figures took his spear from the ground and disappeared into the trees with it. The one who had spoken moved out ahead, and the forms holding Mat's wrists followed, tugging lightly at him to get him moving. He clenched his jaw in annoyance, but followed. The ones with the bows were out of sight now, but he did not doubt that they were still there, ready to shoot.

As he walked he watched the two who held him. Those cloaks blended in perfectly with the wooded background, enough that even this close up, he had trouble seeing where the cloaks ended and the forest began. Like a Warder, he thought to himself. He watched them walk, their movements full of a fluid grace that made them seem as if they were floating a few inches off the ground. Their feet made no sound as they walked, and they left no footprints to show that they had ever been there. More like an Aiel, he decided.

Suddenly the trees opened up into what could be called a clearing, though it was not completely clear. Some trees grew in the area, though they were few and far between. On the far edge people were shooting at targets with bows identical to those pointed at Mat. Closer to him were people sparring in pairs, or sometimes groups of three or four. Most held either long, elegantly curved swords, with hilts of the same length as the blades; or twin knives, each the size of a small sword and curved. The swords and knives had no cross guards, and the handles seemed to flow smoothly into the blades. There were a few assorted spears and quarterstaffs among the bunch, but not nearly as many.

Yet to him what was even stranger were the people. They were tall, and elegant-looking. Most had fair skin, and light hair, usually half pulled back in an assortment of braids or twists. A few had dark hair, but the ones who did seemed even more rare than a person who used a quarterstaff. Their ears looked almost normal, except that they were pointed. This description applied to all he could see, save for one.

There was one woman in the area. Her ears were normally rounded at the tip, and she was not quite as tall as the rest of them. She wore the same green-brown hues as the others, but unlike them, her hair was dark, and all pulled back into a single, long braid down her back. The braid swung as she moved, just as graceful and fluid as the pointy-eared one she was facing.

Mat felt a tug at his wrists and realized he had stopped. He started moving again, slowly, staring at the woman. She certainly was beautiful. He almost smiled as her battle ended with one of the knives she used held an inch from the other's throat. A good fighter, too.

She faded from view as they continued on. Mat looked ahead and saw nothing but trees, but then the open space that was obviously a practice area had appeared seemingly from nowhere. He expected wherever he was being taken to be much the same, and so he was not surprised when the trees opened up slightly again, and beautiful structures that seemed to blend with the forest surroundings were visible.

The ones who held him led him through a maze of trees and those beautiful buildings, until they came to a smaller one, and stopped outside it. The one who seemed to be the leader turned to face him.

"You will stay here. Feel free to explore, but do not try to leave, or you will be caught again." Mat nodded, glancing around. He would not leave without his spear anyways, and they still had that somewhere. The two at his side let go of him, and moved away, leaving only him and the one cloaked figure there. A voice from behind him startled him slightly.

"Another intruder, Amadhor?" Mat turned quickly, and there was the woman he had seen fighting. Her gaze swept over him briefly, then turned to the cloaked one behind him.

"This one seeks refuge," came the voice of the person in the cloak. Mat assumed he was Amadhor.

The woman nodded. "Who is he?"

Slightly annoyed that they were acting as if he did not exist, Mat swept a bow to the woman, speaking before Amadhor could. "My name is Matrim. Matrim Cauthon. And what might your name be?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at Amadhor, then Mat. Mat thought she looked amused. "I am Varekai," she said after a moment. "Good to meet you, Matrim."

He straightened. "Mat," he said with a smile. "Call me Mat."

Varekai nodded. "Mat, then."

Mat glanced at Amadhor again, noticing that the hood had been lowered to show his face. He looked much like the other people there: pointed ears, fair skin, and blonde hair with strands from each side pulled back in a single braid that mingled with the rest of his hair, which still hung loose.

The man turned to look at Varekai, with a small nod of his head. "I must return to the borders, as do my men." His gaze turned to Mat, and he continued to speak. "Remember what I said. You may be here under our protection, but you still must abide the rules. Others will be watching you." Mat nodded, and Amadhor turned and walked away. Within moments he faded into the trees, invisible.

Mat turned to look at Varekai again, and saw her walking away as well. "Wait!" he half-shouted, sprinting after her. She glanced back and stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

"What?" she said once he reached her.

Mat thought hard for a moment, trying to come up with a reason to talk with her. "Um…where are you going?" he said after a moment, keeping himself from wincing. He knew he could have come up with a much better line than that.

She raised an eyebrow. "Back to the practice field. Why?"

"I…uh…had something I wanted to ask," he stuttered. At least that was true.

Varekai only watched him silently, obviously waiting for him to ask.

"Who are all these people?" he said with a sweeping gesture that indicated the pointy-eared ones, managing to smooth his voice a bit so he didn't sound like a complete fool. He wanted to ask why she was not like them, but it did not seem like a polite question for someone he had just met.

She smiled, giving him another amused look. "They are Elves," she said, looking as if trying not to laugh. "Anything else?"

Mat smiled as well, acting as if it were some big joke. "Yeah…" he said after a moment. "Do you mind if I come to the practice field with you?" At a raised eyebrow from her, he hastily added, "Just to watch, I mean."

Varekai shrugged. "I suppose so, if you really want to." She turned and continued walking, completely missing Mat's alluring grin. He started after her, walking quickly to keep up with her long strides.

The practice field opened up before them, and there, as before, were the Elves practicing in groups, some with blades, some with bows.

One of the Elves moved towards them, seeming to materialize from nowhere, and began speaking with Varekai in a low voice. Mat listened curiously. The language was foreign to him, but even though he did not understand the words, he found them pleasant to listen to. Everything about these Elves seemed beautiful, and elegant.

He heard his name, and started out of his trance-like state. The Elf turned towards him, placing a hand over his heart, then taking a step towards Mat to clap his hand on Mat's shoulder.

"Mae govannen," the Elf said in that smooth language. After a moment, Mat realized that he should do the same, and he clumsily repeated the gesture, stumbling over the words. The Elf only smiled.

"Greetings. I am Legolas," he said, casually propping his bow up against a tree. Mat noticed that this bow was different than all the others. Where all the ones he had seen so far were of a normal length, and shining black with gold décor on the curves, this one was of a lighter wood, and was much longer. Embossed leaf designs wound all down the bow, and seemed to be made of a slightly lighter wood, though Mat could not see how that was possible.

Mat smiled slightly, and introduced himself. He wondered how many more times he would have to repeat his name that day.