Legolas liked to think that after Valar only knew how many millennia, he had seen everything there was to see and he could no longer be shocked. He had lived on earth since what seemed the beginning of time, born in Mirkwood two and a half thousand years before the Quest of the One Ring, and countless thousands after that, once King Aragorn had died. He had gone through wars, lived long past Kings and Queens and Emperors and Parliaments, but here, somehow, the man sitting on the other side of his desk had managed to surprise him.
"Sir?" The man asked nervously. Legolas brought himself back into the present.
"Tell me again your findings. From the beginning." Legolas asked quietly. The man nodded.
"Sir…my colleagues and I think that perhaps, maybe, we might have found another elf. One that is neither a member of the circle or council or even our affiliates, and, until now, we have had no knowledge of her."
"So how have you found this elf?" Legolas asked, leaning back in his chair and regarding the man with cool blue eyes. His tone conveyed a certain amount of disbelief and contempt at the story.
"Actually, it wasn't me that found her. My colleage, Patrick Maccillan, was sorting through the old stock market printouts and found certain…anomalies."
"Such as?" Legolas pushed away a growing impatience. It was not the human's fault that he had been picked from his little work mates to bring a matter based on inaccuracies of the stock market to Legolas' attention.
"Certain companies that should have gone under, didn't. At the last moment they all received phenomenal amounts of money at the last moment, and none of them would cite their funding. But checking the World Bank accounts, and one account loses the exact amount of money funded to the businesses."
"So they have a rich patron." Legolas said.
"That's not all, sir." The man said. He could tell Lord Greenleaf was becoming bored, but was unsure of how he could speed up his talk without missing anything important. He knew he had found an elf, he just knew it! The pattern of expenses, names, addresses was the same as for other elves within the circle, though the name behind these occurences matched none in the population of known elves.
"The name on the account was Elendil Simmons, though her background is distinctly hazy. She was born Scandinavia, supposedly, though her date of birth was smudged. But when I searched her name on the internet, I found she was connected with many women who all look exactly alike. But when I searched their names, I found references from history books citing their existence as going through the centuries. There are the odd birth certificates, but no death certificates at all."
"You haven't proved anything except that this woman, Elendil Simmons looks remarkably like her ancestors." Legolas said finally.
"But sir-"
"No. Thank you for your initiative. Had this been an elf indeed, your discovery of her would have been rewarded." The man stood, recognising his dismissal. "Have a good day." The man nodded, his lips twisted into a bitter smile.
"Thank you sir." He muttered. He turned to go, still muttering under his breath. "Maybe if you would listen more often to your underlings, even your highness might learn something."
"Oh, and…don't worry about coming back tomorrow." Legolas' soft voice broke into his mutterings. The man turned, opened his mouth to say something, then shut it with a snap, and he left without a word.
"What's the point of being an ancient elf if you're as withered and bitter on the inside as you should look on the outside?" He growled as he jerked open his car door. "I'm not upset about leaving your sorry ass, bastard."
&
When the unfortunate man let himself into his flat, he dropped his keys onto the counter and collapsed on the sofa in his pitch dark living room. Then the light clicked on, and he saw, to his utter amazement, the woman whose picture matched the name Elendil Simmons and so many others.
"Sorry to barge in like this." She said softly. "But I didn't want my presence trumpeted to the skies, if you know what I mean." The man nodded stiffly. "Your name is Peter Green, right?" He nodded again. "I am, as you know, Elendil Simmons. At the least at the moment." She paused. "You were going to tell him about me, weren't you?"
Both knew who exactly she meant by 'him'; the cold, superior presence of the oldest elf on the planet. Lord Legolas Greenleaf, Head of the Circle of Eldar, and the Leader of the Council of the First Born.
"I did tell him." Peter stuttered, still caught up in looking at her. She laughed, and his mouth dropped open. He had never heard anything so beautiful in his life.
"And what did his Royal Highness say?" She asked. Peter shook his head, speechless. "He didn't believe you?" Again he shook his head. She rolled her eyes, an expression that looked somehow out of place on her flawless face. "He always was a stubborn little idiot." She muttered.
"Beg your pardon, my lady, but how long have you known him?" Peter managed finally. At this, Elendil burst into laughter again.
"Please, I am no lady. Certainly not by elven standards. And leave the formality. Remember, I broke into your house, scared the life out of you by not announcing my presence, and then-" she broke off. "Does Legolas ask you to call him Highness? Lord?" She cringed. "Master?"
"No!" Peter burst out. "Well, not the last one. The others…we call him Highness, or Lord, or sir."
"He has stuck his head up his arse, hasn't he?" She mused. Peter stared at her in shock, and when she noticed, she laughed and waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I am sorry. If you're used to spending all your time with Lord Stuck-up I must seem a complete and utter nightmare!" She smiled brightly and Peter shook his head vehemently.
"No! No, never! It's just…well, you seem so different from him. How long did you say you had known him?"
"I didn't." She said with another one of her smiles. "Suffice to say I am three years Legolas' junior."
"Three years his…that makes you-"
"Very, very old." Elendil interrupted. "This is where you compliment me." She added wryly.
"I never would have thought-you look beautiful!" Peter stumbled. Elendil laughed.
"Thank you." She smiled. "But…I have mostly my heritage to thank for that. All elves are beautiful. Legolas is proof enough of that." Another beautiful laugh. "Thank you, anyway. So. How'd it go, telling dear old Leggy that he'd missed an elf in his precious search to bring us all together?"
"Well, he didn't have a reaction to your name." Peter commented.
"Elendil Simmons isn't my real name. Neither is Julia DeMarkte, Mary De Silvi, Sarah Harrington, or Raphaela Marlborough. My real name is Elida." She shrugged. "When you don't age, you have to change names regularly, I mean…think of it. During the witch-hunts, a beautiful woman who men can't help falling in love with stays forever young. What is that, if not witchcraft?"
"I can see how it would be a problem." Peter said. "But no, he didn't believe me. He thought I was being an idiot, a climber, trying to get his exalted attention! Like I would, I know I'm nothing compared to elves. Just a stupid human with all my human flaws, like I'd try and climb to his level, catch his attention, like I'd-"
"Enough!" Elida exclaimed, leaping to her feet. "By all the gods on Middle Earth, man! Who said these things to you? Did he?" She demanded. Peter flinched back. Angry, she was as frightening and imposing as Legolas seemed to be constantly. She bit her lip and sank down beside him, taking his hand. "God, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed. "I always forget how frightening elves can be! I must have looked just like Legolas. I'm so so sorry." She smiled imploringly. "Forgive me?"
"No! I wasn't scared at all! There is nothing to forgive." Peter exclaimed. Elida tilted her head slightly, and Peter laughed a little. "Alright, maybe I was afraid. And you did look a little like Legolas. But that was when you were angry, and he looks like that all the time." Elida wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out in distaste.
"He does? How foul of him." She sighed. "How awful. For everyone. You would not remember…how could you? He used to be a very sweet man. Very thoughtful, sensitive, loving. He laughed, often." Elida smiled. "I'm sorry he doesn't anymore. I think…" She shook her head, looking very sad suddenly.
"Hey, I'm sorry I upset you." Peter said hastily. She shook her head.
"No. It's fine. So…he didn't listen to you, didn't believe you. What are you going to do?"
"Find a new job." Peter shrugged. "He didn't like it when I said it was no wonder he would never find another elf especially if he didn't listen to his lowly inferiors, so he said I shouldn't bother coming back."
"Well, if you'd like, you can still work for an elf," Elida suggested. "I've got a job opening…and I promise to laugh and smile a bit. You'd travel, and give me a hand with some things…clearly if you could find me I wasn't hiding well enough. You clearly know what to look for, so you could help me hide those things better." She smiled. "You don't have to decide now." She said, standing up. "Here's my numbers." She handed him a small plain white card with numbers printed on it. "Call me on any of them whenever you decide. You might decide you want a break from us higher folk." She laughed slightly, and turned to go.
"Wait! Sure, I'll work for you." Peter said quickly. She smiled.
"Call me in a week, Mr Green," She said with mock solemnity, "And if you decide you still want to work for me, on my good days and my bad, then…call me." She smiled brilliantly again, and slipped from his flat as tracelessly as she had arrived.
&
So tell me if you like it, please. I know I've been away for absolutely ages, but I've been writing in my absence, so I'll do my best to update as soon as I can. Next time will probably been Christmas, but that's in only a month (yay!) so you won't, hopefully, have too long to wait. I will also do my utmost to keep writing the unfinished stories I already have up, like Leoli and my many Harry Potter fics, which I started and never finished. Until then, I hope this will tide you over, so enjoy! Istalindar.