A/N: Yay! 'Nother update! I worked my butt off last night trying to get this finished so I could post it before I bounced off to school. I succeeded! Sorry if this is too long, but I had so many ideas and I didn't want to cut this chapter in half. So, here it is! Hope you like it!

A/N2: And a huge THANK YOU to all of my reviewers! You've all flattered me, really! A couple of you said my characters had depth. I thank you for that comment, because that was what I was going for. I've seen other stories like this, and Legolas never seems affected by a strange new world. I mean, elves have feelings too, right? Of course he would be scared shitless! And, just for the record, he's going to be a little frightened for the first couple of chapters before he relaxes and gets used to things. Just so you don't think I'm trying to make him some giant wimp. So, I'm really glad all of you like my story so far! I hope you like the new chapter!

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Disclaimer: Insert witty comment claiming that I don't own Legolas here: >

(it's too early)

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ch.3

"Kyla!"

Legolas seemed uneasy again, and he glanced back and forth from me to the door. "Who's that?" he asked softly. I could see him pulling a mask over his features, and he went tense in my arms, his eyes watching the door intently should anyone try and come in.

"That…that's Fran," I said, releasing Legolas from my hold and peering out through the ajar door. "My roommate." Fran seemed to think I wasn't in, for she went into the kitchen and started heating up some leftover ziti from the night before. I backed away from the door and turned to Legolas, who was still standing rigidly in the center of the room, his face impassive and prepared. I held up my hands, as if I were warding off an enemy, and gestured at him and the room.

"S-stay here, alright?" I said uncertainly. "I'll be back…I just need to somehow break the news to Fran." And with that I slipped out the door and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

"Kyla," Fran said past a mouthful of pasta, "I thought you weren't here." I tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. I leaned against the counter and played with thee edges of the tiles.

"No…I'm here," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and as normal sounding as I could. I cleared my throat faintly and looked up at her. "Um…Fran?"

"Yah?"

"Something…happened."

She looked at me oddly. "Are you alright, Kyla? You seem…weirded out." I gave a choked chuckle and avoided her eyes, instead looking at the floor.

"Um, well…I kinda am," I said carefully, scratching the back of my neck.

"Why? Kyla, what—oh, shit."

I looked back up at her to realize that she wasn't looking at me, but at something over my shoulder, her eyes about as wide as they could ever get. My heart pounded painfully inside my chest as I turned to see what I had expected…and feared. Legolas was standing behind me, staring right back at Fran, his sapphire eyes wary, calculating. I took a deep breath.

"Ah, well, speak of the devil," I said, attempting to break the awkward silence stretching out rapidly like a slinky being extended between two five-year-old children. I walked to Legolas' side and placed a hand on his arm. "Fran…this is Legolas. Legolas, Fran." The two of them didn't move, one because of caution and distrust, the other because of shock and near disbelief. Another long silence began to expand. I kept silent because I didn't know what to say. It was up to them now; I did my part.

"Is this some sort of joke?"

Out of all the things I expected Fran to say, that was the one I expected least. I had actually expected her to throw herself at him, shrieking shrilly about dreams coming true or something. She was just about his biggest fan. But that wasn't what I was expecting.

Her tone wasn't accusatory, just…I'm not sure what it was exactly. And I couldn't read her face, either. She just kept…staring, a not-too-intelligent look on her pale face. "This is a joke, right?" she asked desperately, placing the container on the counter before it dropped from her trembling fingers. "Mike lost weight, and you two did this to surprise me? Please tell me that's what happened." I struggled to stifle a laugh and just managed to bite back the comment, "Mike can never lose weight and he never will." He was Fran's boyfriend, a nice guy…but he was a major food addict. Not such a turn-on.

"This isn't Mike," I said carefully. "This is Legolas." Fran stared at me, then at Legolas, then back at me. She gave me a quizzical/sarcastic look.

"Kyla, you're off your rocker," she said. The trembling had gone down in her limbs and the highly incredulous glint in her eyes had faded. She picked up the container and began sifting the ziti with her fork. "It was a very nice joke, but you can tell your little friend here," she gestured at Legolas beside me, "to take off the blonde wig and go home. Really, sometimes I don't understand your sense of humor." She shook her head and turned to the sink.

"This is not a joke, Fran!" I said earnestly, slapping my open palm against the counter. "I'm being serious! This is Legolas." That statement was not the best one to choose and only made me sound like more of an idiot. Fran turned to face me.

"Kyla, now you're taking this way too far," she said sternly. "Get that guy out of here!" She pointed at the door violently. I clenched and unclenched my fists, struggling to come up with some kind of solution. How was I going to explain this to her?

"Kyla…?" Legolas whispered uncertainly beside me, his deep blue eyes wide and uncertain as to what he should do. He glanced at the front door, the unspoken question written in the glimmering depths of his eyes.

"No, you're staying here," I murmured back, placing my hand on his slim shoulder. I turned to Fran and said, louder this time, "Can I try to explain?" She crossed her arms and extended a foot, looking and acting like the bitch that emerged whenever she was severely ticked off.

"I think he should leave, now," she said, her voice raising a few notches. Legolas winced slightly as the sound bounced around the apartment. Then she sighed and uncrossed her arms. "Look, I'm getting tired of this." She crossed the kitchen in a few strides and marched straight up to Legolas, a fiery glint in her eyes. She extended a hand, reaching for his head, apparently so she could remove the supposed wig that didn't exist.

Apparently the movement startled Legolas, and it had the effect one would get when moving too fast around an extremely nervous cat. He batted her hand away and leapt away from her. While Fran was still trying to comprehend why her hand hadn't reached its target, Legolas backed away, his movements swift and graceful and his feet soundless on the floor. His whole body was tense as a bowstring and his muscles seemed to thrum with energy. He was preparing himself for a fight.

Again, I felt pity for him. He was frightened, as he had just revealed, and Fran wasn't making things any better with her stupid assumptions. I glared at her and grabbed her hand, tugging her swiftly down the hallway and into the computer room. There I shoved her inside and slammed the door after me, whirling on her and about to give her a severe verbal lashing.

"Oh my GOD, what happened in here?" Fran asked, her eyes wide and surveying the cluttered mess that had been brought by Legolas' appearance. I shook my head sharply.

"Don't draw off the subject here," I said, every syllable doused with extreme frustration and anger. "I brought you in here to talk about Legolas." Fran's eyes were immediately back on me and they crackled with fury.

"This isn't funny anymore," she said, instantly forgetting about the huge mess in the room as her attention returned to the topic of whether Legolas was really him or not. "I've had enough of this game, Kyla, so tell your friend to leave!"

"This—is—not—a—joke!" I ground out, my ire rising. Dammit, why couldn't she just face the fact? Fran groaned and rolled her head back on her shoulders in the exaggerated eye roll.

"Kyla—!"

"Would I be persisting this much if it was a joke?" I interrupted furiously. "You know me, Fran, for almost five years. I don't bluff. I suck at it. Why can't you just see that this is really him?"

"Because Legolas isn't meant to exist!" she shot back. "He's fic-tion-al!" I felt my fist curl as she practically spelled out the word, as if I was retarded. "Some old guy made him up so he could represent elves in the fellowship…and that was years ago anyway. What I'm trying to say is: it simply is NOT possible that the dude out there could be Legolas!" I took a deep breath, tried to calm myself. There was no use speaking when angry; it could force you to blurt something you didn't mean.

"You see this mess?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm. Fran nodded, her rage-filled eyes flicking around the room before settling back on me. "Well," I said pleasantly, "it was caused by the person standing in our living room." I paused a tic. "He—"

"You mean he trashed our house?" Fran erupted suddenly. She reached for the doorknob, obviously intending to cause Legolas some sort of intentional harm, but I grabbed her wrist before she could touch the metal of the knob. I flung her arm away.

"Would you just listen to me!" I shrieked with more power than I thought possible. That seemed to pacify Fran, for she backed away from the door, still looking furious, but turning to listen to whatever I had to say. Wow, I should use that method more often; it seemed to work perfectly!

As calmly as I could, I explained what had happened that morning. I told her of the vortex in the room, and how Legolas just happened to appear after it was over. I then told her about how he seemed honestly intrigued by our technology, not to mention confused. Fran's anger dissipated swiftly as she listened, and soon she simply appeared skeptical.

"Have you examined him?" she asked when I was finished. I threw her a glance that ranged between astonishment and utter confusion. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I mean, checked out his body to find out if he was really an elf or not?" Fran used to be a school nurse. Of course she would think of that.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Are there certain things we should look for? Besides pointed ears?" I added as Fran looked ready to point to the rounded whorl of her own ear. Fran tapped her foot in thought.

"I'm not sure. Maybe I should just have a look at him," she finally decided. I nodded and grabbed the doorknob again. Before I opened the door, I turned back to Fran and raised a strict finger.

"Be gentle with him," I said firmly. "This is an odd experience for him…and he's a little frightened. Just make sure you don't freak him out with anything." Instead of objecting with a sarcastic comment, as I had expected, Fran only nodded. Apparently the look in my eyes told her no jokes.

I opened the door and made my way down the hall and into the living room. It was empty, to my surprise. "Legolas?" I called, heading towards the kitchen. We found him perched on top of the counter, sitting cross-legged, with his hands resting lightly on his crossed ankles. He was staring at the floor, his eyes unfocused and cloudy.

"Legolas," I said again, this time softer than before. He didn't stir. I put a hand on his knee, and he flinched violently, his legs uncurling and his arms hefting him from his seated position. He landed soundlessly on the tile floor and with more grace than I could ever dream of having for simply walking. When he turned his eyes to us, they were clear and sharp.

Getting over the brief surprise I'd had when he had jumped to the floor in less time than I could blink, I said, "Legolas, Fran wants to take a look at you." Legolas' gaze flickered to Fran, who stepped forward, her face expressionless, and cleared her throat.

"Why?" Legolas asked abruptly, and I could feel him inching closer to me, his eyes still resting uncertainly on my roommate. I was filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling. I'm not sure why, but the fact that Legolas seemed to find my presence comforting and look to me for security in what was to him a strange new world made me feel…wanted, needed, in a way, when I've dealt with the feeling of uselessness for so long. In response, I placed a warm hand on his arm.

"She…wants to clear away any doubts," I said confidently. "She won't hurt you, I promise." He nodded slowly, still seeming uncertain, but allowing me to step away and Fran come closer. Instead of immediately going to his ears, hidden behind a veil of golden hair, she bent over and began testing his muscles.

"Try to relax," she murmured kindly to him, for his thews were tense. He nodded again and took a deep breath, and he seemed to visibly deflate. The tautness disappeared, and Fran nodded in satisfaction before she returned to testing his muscles. I could tell he was using every ounce of his will so he didn't clench his muscles again. I watched as she carefully felt his arms and saw to his shoulders, her touch gentle. She then ordered,

"Take off your shirt." Legolas glanced at me, and when I nodded, he undid the ties at the neck of his shirt and slipped it off. Okay, now don't think me cheesy, but I had to catch myself before I gawked. I mean, he was gorgeous. He was lean and slender, almost as slim as a woman was, but he seemed to emanate strength and masculinity. I seemed content to lay back and watch his muscles ripple beneath his skin. God only knew what I was thinking at that moment. Fran also stared for a moment (I swear that when her mouth fell open, I saw drool), but then the task she was performing seemed to slap her back into reality, for she began to move again before the situation became awkward.

Fran ran her hands over his skin (a bit too sensually, might I add), then traced the outline of his spine. She stopped when he shivered violently and bowed his head, his back arching slightly into her touch, almost like a cat. Fran's eyebrows puckered in slight confusion.

"Cold?" she asked, apparently choosing to ignore Legolas' other reactions to her touch. Legolas shook his head.

"Nay," he responded. "Elves don't feel heat or cold as much as humans. But…our spines are immensely sensitive."

"Hmm…" Fran hummed absentmindedly, as she tested his shoulder blades. "Bend over, please." Legolas did as he was told and folded over at the waist, and Fran checked to see that his spine was in order. "Alright, you can stand up." As Legolas straightened, Fran came over to me, her face one of confusion.

"You're done already?" I asked when she was close enough. She shook her head.

"No," she replied, "I still have a little more to do. But…" She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "…It's a little weird. I mean, his muscles…they seem too…minute to hold that kind of strength. And when I touched his spine…" She shook her head. "Even when I touch Mike like that with his shirt off, he doesn't react that strongly. Come to think of it, no one I've ever met has responded like that. It's weird."

"Do you believe me now?" I asked, a bit smugly, I admit, leaning against the counter. Fran looked back at me, since she had been gazing at Legolas thoughtfully, and raised an eyebrow at my question.

"Not until I complete the physical," she said, and with that, she walked back over to Legolas. After that, Fran did various tests that had to do with his eyes and the condition of his throat and mouth. She looked very confused when she backed away after checking his eyes for the seemingly third time, as if she was trying to see if she had made a mistake. Then she shook her head, bemused, and ran a hand over her face. She released a breath and moved to the ultimate test: his ears. Since she was a midget, she asked him to incline his head so she could reach it. She brushed aside his sweeping hair and inspected the delicately pointed shell of his ear.

Then she reached up to gingerly trace the pad of her finger along the edge and then to the tip of the gracefully swept ear. He jerked in response and pulled back, his eyes snapping shut as he gasped softly and turned his face away from us. I pushed away from the counter, utterly confused and concerned at his behavior. He had been fine thus far; I didn't know what had gone wrong.

"Legolas?" I asked, reaching forward to touch his arm. A movement that he had accepted before was now shunned, and he recoiled beneath my touch, causing me to draw back. The whole time he kept his face hidden from us, his body shaking systematically with uncontrollable tremors. "Legolas, what is it?"

"I…it…e-excuse me," he choked out, his voice sounding strangled. He then brushed past me and hurried down the hall, entering the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. I glanced at Fran, whose wide eyes were trained on the bathroom door. Her look seemed to be that of comprehension. I pushed that thought out of my mind, intending to question her about it later, and made to follow Legolas.

"Kyla, wait," Fran suddenly said. I halted, impatient. She fidgeted a bit with the hem of her shirt, her eyes trained on the floor. Finally she looked up at me. "Um…I-I believe you," she said, and I could tell she was telling the truth. I blinked a few times, wondering why she had changed her mind about this.

"Why?" I asked. Fran's fidgeting increased to twice of what it had been before. She refused to meet my eyes and kept silent for a little while. I finally lost my last shred of patience. "Look, Fran, I'm curious, but I'm more worried about Legol—"

"He won't appreciate your company very much right now," Fran interrupted. She sighed and released the abused edge of her shirt and sat down on one of the tall stools beside the counter. "Sit down, Kyla." I was too confused by what she had said to refuse. Fran tapped the surface of the counter with one long fingernail for a few moments before speaking.

"Okay…how should I explain this?…Well, Tolkien created what his definition of elves was. It included a lot of odd qualities, like…sleeping with their eyes open," she explained. I nodded, wondering if this was true and what Legolas would look like sleeping with his eyes open. "Anyway," Fran continued, "one of the traits of elves has to do with their ears." Here she paused, clearly uncertain on how she should continue. "According to him, an elf's ear is only touched when mating. I should have remembered this before I put…Legolas…into any embarrassing situation, but I only recalled it after the damage had been done."

I stared at her for a little while. "You mean elves get hard-ons when their ears are messed with?" I asked, putting it bluntly. Fran simpered, a small blush rising in her cheeks.

"Well…they get…aroused," she said, her voice quiet. "Their ears are only supposed to be touched during sex. I forgot that. I think I embarrassed him." She seemed honestly sorry, and her fingers began fidgeting again.

"It's okay, Fran," I said quietly, wanting to reassure her. "I don't blame you. People forget things; it's in our nature. Although…" I glanced at the bathroom door, "…he kinda does deserve an apology. Not just for this, but also for your earlier behavior." Fran looked guilty again. I sighed softly.

"I should go see how he is," I murmured, then slipped off the stool and walked over to the bathroom. I knocked three times on the wood, then waited for an answer. There was no sound from within. "Legolas?" I called out. I knocked a few more times. "Legolas, it's me. Open the door."

"I…I can't," he replied, his voice muffled by the wood standing between us. Though not muffled enough for me to tell that it was shaking. I couldn't tell if it was because of fear or arousal, but I was leaning towards the latter.

"Legolas, it's alright," I said consolingly. "There's…there's nothing to be ashamed of." The only thing I could hear was his soft breathing within the tiled bathroom. I waited patiently outside the door. I recalled the time my father found an injured kitten outside out house and brought it in to heal. It had been wary of me at first and skirted me whenever I came near. Soon my father told me to not approach it, but to wait for it to come to me. The next time I saw the kitten, I simply sat down and watched as it inched closer and closer to me, curiosity leading it. It then allowed me to touch it, and its trust of me was built.

This was just like it. Wait for him to come to you, not the other way around, I told myself. And so I waited. And waited.

After almost forty-five minutes of waiting, the doorknob began to twist. I pushed away from the wall I had been leaning against, watching as the door opened slowly, inch by inch. Soon the open space was only eight inches apart, and Legolas' head appeared in the opening. His eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed.

When he saw me standing on the other side of the hall, he slowly opened the door all the way. He was a bit disheveled, his golden hair in disarray and his chest gleaming with a fine sheet of sweat. I pursed my lips and reached out to touch his arm. Even though he flinched, he didn't do it as violently as before and he allowed me to touch him in the end.

"It's alright," I said again, my voice soft. "Fran's sorry and she understands what she did to you." Legolas lowered his eyes. I almost expected him to blush, but that trait remained undiscovered. Hell, I was thankful; blushing seems to me a trait females should only have, and by the looks of Legolas' upper body, he was most definitely not a womanish being.

"Come with me," I whispered, taking his hand. "Fran wants to apologize." He didn't say anything, only followed me as I led him down the hall and into the kitchen, where Fran was still sitting on her stool, her head cradled in her hands.

"Fran," I said, and she snapped her head up in surprise. She blushed when she saw Legolas standing behind me and avoided looking at him. I made a gesture at him with my hand, then stepped away. Fran tentatively got off her stool and stepped closer, her eyes resting anywhere but on him.

"Listen…I, um…I'm sorry…for what happened earlier," she stammered uncertainly. "I…I didn't mean to…embarrass you, or…anything like that. I…well…what I'm trying to say is…" She looked up at him at last and met his eyes. Apparently the complete understanding in them soothed her frazzled nerves, for she finished off with a whisper of, "I'm sorry."

"I don't hold you at fault," Legolas replied softly. "I realize that you meant nothing of ill will. I forgive you for your mistake." He gently took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. She seemed utterly flattered at the motion, and she glanced at me, clearly at a loss for words. I stepped forward before she could make a fool of herself.

"Legolas, why don't I teach you about plumbing, like we had been meaning to do earlier in the day," I said, placing a hand on his arm and guiding him towards the hall. He nodded and moved away after briefly inclining his head politely towards Fran. She only nodded curtly in his direction. Before I went after him, she grabbed my arm and murmured in my ear, "I think I'm going to like having him here!" before letting me go again.

I could only smile and think: well, duh you would!

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Well, hope you liked it! Reviews please! -shoulders backpack- Off to school with me. See ya!