A/N Okay, in spite of the fact that this is not my most popular story, I'm updating it anyway 'cause it's my favorite. I really don't know why this story hasn't been producing the kind of reviews some of my other stories like POW have since this is the only one I've written which will, in my opinion, turn out to have at least a somewhat interesting, not overdone plot as my others have been rather formulistic and unoriginal.

If it's because of the Arwen/Legolas relationship, I guarantee that Arwen will not be made into an angel, nor a Mary Sue if there's a difference.

Oh yeah, and for those of you that keep asking me questions about what's going on or what's going to happen, the answer is simple, read and trust that the story will pan out in a way that makes sense. PLEASE don't try to jump ahead of it because that just takes away from when I actually get to the moment you've been inquiring about. If it helps, think of it as a movie, don't think about it just enjoy it.

Chapter three:

Heart of a Warrior

Elladan sighed with contentment as he once again found himself surrounded by the familiar sights of Rivendel. Though this had been, by far, one of their shorter expeditions into the wilderness, the young lord always felt a sense of completeness when back in his homeland. The homecoming was made all the sweeter by the absence of any critical injuries, returning with mere scratches obtained from handling the thorny herbs their father requested. 'Perhaps it's because Legolas isn't here,' he thought, snickering to himself.

"What, may I ask, is so funny Dear Brother?"

Elladan immediately shut his mouth at the voice of his sister that had brought her horse abreast with his. "Nothing, Sister," he said, trying to sound not overanxious. He knew Arwen, though not overly skilled with blade or bow, possessed the sharpest tongue in all of Rivendel as well as a very close connection to the Warrior Prince of Mirkwood and he was not keen on having to endure a lecture from his sister.

Arwen eyed her brother levelly, having a relatively good guess as to where his thoughts lie, or rather on whom. It was common knowledge that Legolas had a knack for getting himself (and those ill-fated enough to be his companions) into holes of trouble so deep, they would make a dwarven mine look little grander than a rabbit hole. Her brother's reaction had verified this, for she knew she had a tendency to be a tad over protective when it came to the wood elf's reputation.

It was the least she could do, seeing how their first meeting had almost caused the prince to make an early journey to Mandos.

The year had been hard on the people of Imladris as it was right after the departure of the lady of the house, Celebrian's departure into the West leaving the ruling family in a state of grief and anger so potent it seemed to choke the haven's residents.

The twins had chosen to avoid their grief, turning it into cold fury as they scoured the country side hungry for the taste of orcish blood on their gleaming blades while her father spent his days brooding in his study, burying himself in his studies of the healing arts and the maintenance of his realm. And Arwen? She was just lost and confused as the weight of her family's fury nearly buried her.

She began to wander the forests of her homeland aimlessly and with no thought other than to escape the pain, anger, and especially her father's newly found over protectiveness of his only daughter. It was routine, in those times, for her to storm out of the Last Homely House in a rage, her blood boiling form the heated argument she'd just had with her father and she soon began wandering farther and farther from the safety of Rivendel and into the every darkening world beyond, if only to rebel against her father's demands.

It was on one of these occasions that she never returned.

Later she found out that Rivendel had become frantic, the only thought running through it's people's minds being, 'No, please not again'.

Her brothers stopped their mad hunt for vengeance and immediately began searching high and low, with the help of Glorfindel, for their beloved little sister, praying that she would not be lost to them as well. But they could not find anything, though their combined skills were the best in all of Eregion.

So it was, that in a moment of pure desperation, Lord Elrond had done the unthinkable. He begged King Thranduil for aid, specifically the use of his son, Legolas. For, while the prince was still very young, he had already established himself as the greatest of his generation; his skill already becoming the stuff of legend in the regions of men.

Fortunately, the prince was more open minded than his father, and was quite willing to lend his skills to the lords of Imladris. It was not the first special task that had been requested of him by an ally, though it was, by far, the one of the greatest importance.

It had been him, and only him, that was successful in his hunt, though few other than himself knew the reason, and he had, on a cloudy winter's day, returned to the elven refuge borne on a mule of all things with the elven princess in his arms, and a short walk from Mandos.

At her request, the prince had told none of what he had discovered when he had found her captors, nor was he very detailed in the story of their journey back to Rivendel, though it was certainly something of interest as the prince returned three months after he left.

It was obvious, however, that Arwen had grown close to her rescuer in that time, and why not? But none truly understood how close the couple had gotten.

Legolas was, to Arwen, a thrilling, fiery curiosity that sent her senses on edge and made her blood run hotly with lust and she could not shake her infatuation with him no matter how primal it may have been. She knew Legolas had come to love her during their journey together, though in a different, more heartfelt way than her, and so a hot, passionate bond formed between them.

Every time they met, however, Arwen was left with a sense of guilt. She knew Legolas thought they had something special; knew it by his gentle touches and the sincerity in his voice, but she just didn't feel the complete connection. There was lust, yes, and the two were of a kindred spirit, but to say that she loved Legolas, well, she just couldn't.

'It would be so much easier if he wasn't so intoxicating', thought Arwen, remembering the countless times she had made up her mind to call their relationship off but was foiled by her own raging emotions.

"Arwen!"

Arwen's head snapped up as Elrohir's voice broke her from her reverie. Shaking her head to chase away her thoughts, her eyes widened when she realized her brothers had gained fifty yards on her. Kicking her horse into a gallop, she soon caught up with the duo, her thoughts and feelings for Legolas Greenleaf left behind.

Legolas sat perched in his favorite tree in all of Rivendel, book in hand, with a content smile on his face as he enjoyed the beauty of silence. Aragorn was a wonderful child, ever eager to learn and always fascinated by the trappings and mannerisms and history of the elven race. The problem was he always went to Legolas to inquire about them.

It was not that Legolas didn't enjoy the boy's company, it was just that there is so much a body can take. Fortunately, Elrond (Valar bless him) was used to children's ever curious minds and had liberated the Mirkwood prince by taking Aragorn to the library with the promise of reading him a story about elves.

At the sound of horse's hooves, Legolas shot up, his gaze drawn eagerly toward the main gate. A smile instantly broke out on his face as he caught site of Elrond's children riding in and his heart fluttered at the presence of the lord's youngest.

Arwen had always brought light into his spirit whenever they were together, and it forever left him grinning like a fool in her presence.

That grin was now plastered to his face as he jumped from the tree without a thought to the dizzying height from which he sprung and sprinted toward the gate eager to speak with his friends.

"Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen!" he called to his friends, subconsciously naming them oldest to youngest. He almost laughed at how all three dark heads snapped in his direction almost simultaneously.

As their heads turned in the prince's direction, instant smiles broke out on the faces of the twins. "Mellon nin!" shouted Elrohir, haphazardly dismounting and running to capture his friend in a bear hug, his brother mere moments away. "What are you doing here!"

Legolas's face darkened a bit at the innocent question. "I'm afraid that's something for you to discuss with your father. He's waiting for you three in his study with some news of great importance," he said, releasing himself from the twins' grips.

Elladan and Elrohir nodded curtly at their friends words, immediately taking note of the change in attitude. Obviously something grave had occurred to cause Legolas to send them away to their father instead of meeting up with them. "All right. We'll go meet him now," said Elladan, patting his friend on the shoulder before making his way inside.

"But don't think you're getting out of spending time with us later Thranduilion," said Elrohir before he followed his brother.

Arwen approached then, the only one that had not, as of yet spoken. "Welcome back Legolas," she said in that sweet, heavenly voice of hers. She leaned in closer, in a secretive maner and whispered, "Meet me at the lake tonight, we have much to talk about.

Legolas could only nod, the presence of the she-elf he loved stealing away his rational thought and with it his ability for speech. His eyes followed her form dreamily as she went into the house after her brothers.

Elrond looked up, smiling as his children entered the room. His relief was overflowing at the sight of them relatively unharmed. "Welcome home my children," he said, rising to embrace each in turn. When they were had all greeted each other, each found a chair, the younger ones eager to hear the news their father had for them.

"We saw Legolas when we came home, Adar. He said you had something to tell us," Elrohir said, bringing up the conversation the three children of Elrond had been dying to have.

"I do have news," said Elrond, sighing heavily. "Arathorn son of Arador is dead." The elf lord looked up, finding his children staring at him with horror.

"What," Elrohir said, unable to believe the ranger that was a long time friend of theirs could be dead. "How?"

"His party was attacked by a contingent of orcs. They were overwhelmed," Elrond said, his gaze drifting downward at the loss of his brother's kin.

"Well what of Gilraen and the child? Were they with him?" asked Arwen, her fear for the young woman vividly apparent.

Elrond sighed again, his eyes coming up again to connect with those of his daughter. "The lady is dead," he said solemnly. "The only one that survived the attack was Aragorn." He paused, looking at his grief ridden children. "The heir of Elendil is now in our care," he said, surprising his children whose heads snapped up at the news. "It is a heavy responsibility, for, if the enemy discovers that we are hiding him, nothing will stop them from killing him and all will be brought to ruin."

Elladan echoed his father's sigh. "It is the least we could do for Arathorn," he said, quietly. "It would be difficult, however, to keep his identity hidden. The enemy has spies everywhere and if we so much as mutter the name 'Aragorn' outside of these walls it could mean the end of the hope of mankind."

"Than we won't say it," said Elrohir quietly.

"What do you mean?" asked Elrond even though he was gathering an idea of how his son's mind was working.

"An alias," said Elrohir in an almost matter of fact fashion. "If we are to keep his identity hidden, we must change it."

"Than what are we going to call him?" asked Arwen.

"Estel," said Elrond suddenly, the idea having just come to him. "For, as you said, Elladan, he is the hope of man."

They all stood silently for a while before Elladan spoke again. "Well," he said, plastering a smile on his face, "I, for one, can't wait. It will be fun having another little brother."

Elrond smiled, pleased with his eldest son's reaction to the news. "I am glad to hear it, Elladan," he said. "Now, if you and Elrohir would go find Legolas, I have just sent Estel along to meet him and I think the three of you should become acquainted. I must speak with your sister."

Arwen watched her father warily as her brothers left the room, wondering why her father would wish to speak with just her. Her heart involuntarily fluttered as she thought that her father may have discovered her relationship with Legolas. Pushing it down, she smiled sweetly at her father. "What would you like to tell me, Ada?" she asked.

Elrond looked down again, slowly releasing his breath as though he was building up his nerves. "Arwen," he said at last, looking his daughter in the eye, "this latest attack on the rangers is just further proof that the times are growing dark, and their proximity to Rivendel had disturbed me. With Aragorn…Estel here it will be even more dangerous."

Arwen was shaking her head, already knowing where this conversation was headed. "Father, please don't tell me what I think you're going to."

"Arwen, my power is no longer enough to protect you from the shadow," Elrond said, ignoring his daughter's words. "You will be much safer with your grandmother."

"No!" Arwen shouted, rising to her feet. "I will not be sent away to hide, I can take care of myself!"

"Like you did one thousand years ago?!" Elrond shouted back, his anger blinding his senses. Seeing his daughter's eyes flash at the mention of her time in captivity, he attempted to reign in his temper. "No," he said resolutely. "You are going to stay in Lorien. It is for your own good."

Arwen shook her head, to angry to find words. Instead, she just stood and left, not heeding her father when he called to her.

A/N Okay, I know it's a weird time to stop the chapter, but I wanted to get this updated so I decided to, as they say in the Agony and the Ecstasy, I decided to make an end.

PLEASE REVIEW THIS. I'm not going to offer you guys a reward for it but would you do it anyway, out of the kindness of your hearts?

Peace,

Hobbit Killer