A/N: Hello!
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The difference between stumbling blocks and stepping stones is how you use them. - Unknown
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With a deep sigh, Legolas shifted in the sheets. It was cold outside, but he slept shirtless. He didn't like the feeling of human's clothes. They were so restrictive. The sheets weren't as silky as he remembered either, but manageable.
And then, he sensed movement in the room.
Legolas lifted his head out of the pillows, blinking in the dark. Off in the corner, Aragorn slumbered in the recliner. It wasn't him. The clock ticked away on the wall…not that either. It was the silent whisper of footsteps that woke him. His first thought was Kristy. But the shadow's hair was longer and twisted in a braid.
Tauriel.
"Hey!" he whispered.
She froze.
Legolas raked a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face so he could see. "What's up?"
Tauriel leaned closer, obviously confused. She glanced at the ceiling. "...up?"
"What are you doing?" he asked more insistently. And he wondered if that's what he looked like every time Kris said something nonsensical, when he first came here. So amusing.
"Simply for a walk," she said softly, and there was something about her voice. It was distant. Distracted.
Legolas wrinkled his nose, before ripping the blankets off and staggering out of bed. "Wait for me."
It was five o'clock in the morning. The curfew was just ending and he could hear morning traffic outside. He threw his head in the shower and washed his face. Water splattered off his hair and he shook his head vigorously. So cold. He ran his hands through it and slicked it back, before hurrying on soft, worn jeans, a coat and his boots.
Tauriel was waiting for him outside. She didn't particularly want him with her; he knew that. But he had to be with her. It was an entire week after Christmas. He'd barely spent a solid hour with her since arriving here.
"So what do you want to do?" he asked with a forced smile. It felt terrible getting up this early. But that was because he was so used to sleeping in now. Stupid, weak human body.
"What do you?" she countered.
"How 'bout sparring?" he suggested immediately. "It feels like it's been so long."
Tauriel frowned, creeping past Estel to the door. "But we should not draw attention to ourselves."
Legolas scoffed. That was something Kristy would say. And she was in bed. A perfect opportunity. "There is a park across the street, sheltered in the trees. We can go there."
"I-I am not sure." But at Legolas' sly, tempting grin, eyes gleaming in the dark…she relented with a sigh. "Oh, very well. Let me get them."
Legolas tossed the knives back and forth in his hands eagerly as they rode down. Tauriel didn't seem to mind the elevator. In fact, she didn't seem to mind anything. She just looked, as if in her own, distant world. Legolas glanced over. It was still dusky outside. The feel of his knives made him exuberant. It was so long since he saw her smile.
"Tauriel," he hissed, tossing his knives to the floor. "Watch."
And as the elevator dropped at its usual, inhuman speed, he gathered himself...and leapt. Legolas kicked off the wall and his palms hit flat on the ceiling. The shaft continued to drop and a sickening lurch clenched in his belly, but it took twice as long for him to drop back to the floor.
And for an instant, he was in free-fall.
"What do you think?" he dropped back and grinned, feeling the rush in his head.
She blinked.
"Try it."
"I don't think so."
Legolas stared at her, feeling a little disappointed...wondering what it would take to get what he wanted from her, before forcing himself to smile again. "No one spars here, you know. They consider the bow and knives to be 'antiquated'."
The elevator doors opened, and Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him, stepping out. "Why am I not surprised?"
Legolas glanced around the lobby, taking her warm hand in his. He walked briskly to the glass doors. It was satisfying. In the Greenwood, all those years ago, it was 'improper'. He was a prince. She was Sylvan. But there was no king looking at him with disapproving eyes now. There were good things about this world, after all.
And the words slipped out of him before he could stop. "Your hand is warm," he commented in surprise.
She started.
"Ah, I..." he hurriedly corrected. "I mean, Kristine is usually so cold in this weather." Oh, that was worse. Legolas stopped himself, feeling more than a little self-conscious. Blood rushed to his face and he pushed it down. "Never mind."
Tauriel didn't pull her hand away, but it went lax in his.
Legolas pushed the doors open and felt relief at the gust of cold air that met them. A sheet of fresh-fallen snow blanketed the park outside. Strings of lights laced the branches, but they were dark as the sun rose. Kristy's apartment complex rose up out of the city like a monster, looking out over the lower buildings. Tiny icicles pricked every branch, and Legolas smiled slightly.
"It is beautiful," he murmured, looking up, "the trees. Are they not?"
A moment passed, cool and crisp in the morning air. "I suppose," she murmured softly.
Legolas watched the movement of her coppery head. "You...suppose." He narrowed his eyes. And he couldn't take this. A rush of worry swept through him. And irritation. "What do you mean, mellon? Why do you act like this? Is something wrong?"
"No." She twisted her hand out of his. "It is just...the trees have lost some beauty for me, Legolas. The woods of Lorien are magnificent. Yet," She looked down, agitated. "Never mind."
Legolas slowed his steps, thinking about it. "And yet, what?"
She took a deep, sharp breath of the frigid air and her eyes focused. "My relatives have moved to the western shores, Legolas, near the Havens. And…they say the sea is beautiful there, more so than all our forests combined."
Legolas' heart dropped and he pulled her to a stop. "The sea," he nearly spat. The sea. All the joy was sapped out of him and he grimaced. "Why do you speak to me of the sea?"
She avoided his gaze. Her green eyes turned away, porcelain skin gleaming in the faint light. But Legolas didn't look at that.
"I was preparing my journey there...before your fellowship arrived," she admitted.
Legolas pulled back. "You...what? You were leaving Lorien?"
She lifted her chin, spinning a flashing blade in her hand. She was uncomfortable. That was obvious. But her voice stayed strong. "I was."
Legolas side-stepped until she was forced to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me this?" he asked harsher than he meant to. The sea...no one stayed long when they moved to the West dales. Not a wood-elf, not a child of the trees! She was...no, she couldn't. She couldn't do that to him.
"I am not sailing," The former captain said quickly, firmly. "I did not mean that."
Legolas stared. "What do you mean, then?" he asked frostily. He shouldn't feel this way. It was wrong. But he felt betrayed, somehow. Was this why she acted so strange? So distant, so distracted: she wanted to sail?
"I need a change," she said simply. "I could not stay there any longer. The pain, I..." she pursed her lips in a tense, frustrated frown.
"A change," he said, just a little flat. Change was not always good. Change was…the unknown.
And the last time she said that she ran off to the woods of Lorien. Yes, after the Battle of the Five Armies, Legolas took off into the wilds for a time, too. But that was different. He always knew he'd come back. He needed the Greenwood. It was home.
Tauriel fingered the hilt of the blade, and a part of Legolas wanted to turn on his heel and walk away. But he didn't. He did that once already…and he regretted it.
She needed him then. She was his friend. Legolas had let his feelings get in the way all those years ago, and he wouldn't do it again.
"Come on then." He smiled a little, tossing his knife from hand to hand. "We can speak of this later. Let us spar."
. . . . . . .
"Why in God's name would he do that?"
Aragorn's mouth twitched.
"Somebody could see them!"
In the park, sword fighting? God, how could he?
"What is he, insane?"
Kris struggled to pull on a coat as she ran. Legolas and precious Tauriel, out dueling in the snow. As if they didn't draw enough attention already. It was midmorning and the shriek of laughter led her down the right path. Estel was behind her. She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was there, following with that tiny gray sparkle in his eyes.
Kris broke through the tree line and stared at the two. She hit a tree branch out of the way and it snapped her in the face. But there was Legolas, sparkling with snow and grinning like a madman. Tauriel was in the snow beside. Legolas had a throwing knife in one hand, coiled himself back, before hurling it twenty feet into a tree trunk.
The wild wish to take that silly face and hit it burned into her. But she didn't. Instead, she dove to the ground as Legolas reached for another knife. She balled a packed sphere of snow in her hands and…before he could release…threw. Hard.
"Aye!" Legolas yelped and spun around, eyes flashing. And then he froze.
Kristy stood there, at the edge of the clearing, arms folded. She looked like irate. Snow drizzled down his face and he shivered, feeling it melt in his hair.
"Kristy," he said stupidly.
"What the hell are you doing?" she said in a voice like she already knew the answer.
Legolas didn't even have time to force some charm into his face before she kicked through the drifts, snow flying and she shoved him. Hard.
"Kris-"
"What's your problem?" she cut him off. "Is all this just a big game to you? Are you crazy?"
"What are you talking about?" he protested. Legolas didn't fight and he let himself stumble back in the snow. Kris pushed him again, in the chest.
"Knives? Knives? Are you serious?" she spat, pointing at the white-wooded handles in the tree. Aragorn reached out but Legolas threw a hand, holding him at bay. Tauriel shifted away, the smile draining from her face. "Throwing them around a public park? You want to be arrested?"
Legolas shook his head. "Kristy, I-"
"You don't get it, do you?" She stared, let the madness from last night, every night, the weeks ever since…since she couldn't remember flare to life. And she was angry. "Or do you just not care?"
She remembered his smoldering eyes, the laughing twitch at his mouth, the insistent attention he gave her. It made the fury more hot and more real. He teased her. All the time he teased her, and it all came rushing back. Or maybe after all they'd been through…he despised her. Maybe he wanted to show her how ridiculous what she wanted reallywas. How stupid she was.
"Try thinking about someone besides yourself, you bastard!" she hissed, and pushing off of him, about to whirl around…she didn't make it.
Legolas raised a defensive arm. It was pure reflex. It hit her back and Kris felt slammed back into the snow. The sky spun and she blinked, stunned. Instantly, shocked at his actions, Legolas reached to help her up. He was off-balance, breathing fast, stepping forward…
"Kris, I-"
Before he knew what happened, she kicked his legs out from under him. She scrambled back as he fell, out of the snow.
"Kristine!" Aragorn shouted. It was too late.
Legolas hit the ground, instantly getting up again, gasping in surprise. To his further shock, Kris grabbed his wrist and threw him face first into the snow. He could've twisted away, but her fingers pinched the nerve in his neck painfully tight. It wasn't worth it.
"Never do that again," she whispered venomously.
Just like that, Kristy was on her feet, staggering back again, and she stared at him. Legolas almost lost his breath. He'd never seen her so… so wild. Her eyes flashed and she flexed her fists, as if expecting an attack.
Where in Eru's name did she learn that from?
Legolas sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, unable to think of how to respond. It didn't hurt, not really. He pushed her on accident. But she'd attacked him on purpose.
He should be angry. He should be upset…embarrassed, something. But all he could do is stare into those blue-green, flashing eyes. They were bright and wild. Fascinating. And too much to comprehend right now.
"I'm late for work," she managed somehow. It sounded blunt and stupid even to her ears, but she couldn't face him anymore. She couldn't take it.
And with that, Kris turned and strode away.
. . . . . . . . .
Wind. Traffic.
Kris ran harder, as if speed could force away every doubt, ever confused, mixed-up feeling and throw it over the bridge. Cables and rail flew past her, cars beside, above, below. Everywhere. Her boots pounded the pavement bam bam.
She was hot and panting. Bitter cold bit her eyes.
Legolas. She kept thinking about him. Roger couldn't come through. He wasn't doing what he was supposed to do. Distract her. It wasn't fair.
And she tried to run it away. Life was hectic, exhausting and...and frustrating. She grimaced, pushing a gloved hand through her hair as she ran. When did it start? This, all of it?
It started that day she knocked a man over in the rain, that's when. It started the instant she looked in those startling, crystal blue eyes.
Dammit.
Why didn't she stay home that day? Why did she have to take that route, that same time, that very instant he staggered into the street? None of this would have happened.
That's right. She cursed, bolting and using both hands to run up a long, metal-grated stair climbing a second bridge. The more exhausted she became, the better she felt. None of this would have happened. Never would have read that book, she never would have seen Legolas smile…a dimpled smile, the one so full of quiet, eager mischief.
You'd never have to say goodbye.
But she'd never say hello either. Never heard him say it either, never watched him wrestle Shenzie to the floor. That's what you want?
No.
It was a sinking feeling, like hearing the first crack rumbles of a stellar storm. She didn't want that. She never would. No matter what happened, how much she felt like her heart was smashed every day, beating uselessly in her chest…she wouldn't have traded it for anything.
Even Legolas now, the way he was…every look a suggestion, every word a whisper, as if tantalizing her deliberately with something she couldn't have. It was her imagination.
This morning was exactly what her stupid mind was doing. Legolas was just confused. He wanted to distract her, or be distracted. Tauriel was distant. Maybe he was lonely… Maybe that was why he took her out to spar this morning.
Who cared?
Legolas' newfound attitude didn't change a thing. They were going home…somehow, some way. They'd find a way. Aragorn would. She knew it as sure as the day was dark, cold, and snowing. Legolas would live his life in a world so very far away. She'd never see him again. She'd never hear his throaty, musical voice or touch his pale, silky hair. It wasn't meant to be.
She was running down her anger, every bit of fierce, deprecating thoughts she couldn't escape. And drowning in the worthless, angry storm, she didn't see it coming. It looked like snow. The pavement was white. The sidewalk turned to glare ice and Kris gasped. She flew, her boots slipped out; her head slammed into pavement.
Dark.
. . .
God. It hurts.
That was the first thing she realized.
Kristy let out a slow hiss, gritting her teeth at the gray sky. Flakes settled on her face in fat, feathery drops and she winced in the cold. Head, left palm, ankle…yes: ankle. That was the worst.
Kristy forced her head off the ice. Her hair froze to the snow and a tiny whimper leaked out of her throat. Damn it hurt!
She threw her head back, looking around. Where was she? It felt like she'd run miles. It was a bridge on the way home, maybe half-way; eight lanes of windy traffic whipped through her hair and snagged it. She flinched. It was so cold up here. She wanted to get up and limp home. She'd crawl if she had to…But it was too far.
She tried to struggle to her feet and she collapsed. A short whimper croaked out her throat and she squashed it down.
Dammit.
It was getting dark. She looked around. White sun glowed behind the clouds, going dim as evening fell.
Roger.
Kristy fumbled in her coat pocket and almost cried in disappointment. She forgot her phone. Again. She panted, starting to panic. Her fingers were going numb in the col. They flew over her jeans and all her pockets, and she hoped blindly that the marine was somewhere nearby, or would miss her tonight at dinner. They were supposed to meet in an hour.
She hit the pavement in anger and then, panting gusts of vapor, leaned back on the rails. Another freeway screamed past far below. She focused on breathing, managing the pain gnawing at her swelling ankle.
Damnit.
She pulled the hood over her head and grimaced, furious at herself. She couldn't even manage a two-mile run without going and hurting herself.
Legolas was right.
She was incapable. He never trusted her. And he was right! Kris hadn't even thought to put on a decent coat. It was her work coat, belted tight around the waist and trying failingly to keep her warm.
Oh, Roger, where are you?
Kristy curled her uninjured leg up and folded her arms tight. She stared emptily through the blur of traffic Her face was slowly growing numb, and she buried her face in her hands. So cold. Why didn't she just drive straight home? Call a taxi? Something.
She didn't want to. That's why. It felt good to burn off every scrap of pent-up, frustrated feelings Legolas made that morning.
How does it feel now? A cynical voice asked, and she squashed it down. Shut up.
. . . . . . . .
A hundred…two hundred cars, more passed. Nothing happened. She couldn't think. She tried to summon the strength to limp home. But it hurt so much. The cars went by so fast, too fast to flag down.
And by the time something happened, a break in the rushing traffic, in the constant, blowing wind…dark had well fallen. Snow reflected off the flashing headlights. Clouds rolled by. And there was Kristy, curled in on herself in a small, hurting ball. It was so cold.
Anger kept her thinking. Why didn't he come? He didn't care. Not really. If he did, wouldn't have he called the apartment? See if tonight was still on? Here she was, half-way home and freezing cold, trying to think of Roger.
Why did she get so attached so easily? Why did she have to let stupid, worthless feelings soak into every day, every thought, every decision she made? It influenced her, made her irrational. Why did she do it?
And then…the hot rush of an engine…
Kris blearily blinked her eyes open.
What the- No.
Past strings of overhead lights, burning dimly on the bridge, across eight lanes of highway, a silver Grand Prix, headlights burning bright yellow slammed to a stop by the curb. And she saw the door fly open. Her car.
Kris struggled off the rail and leaned forward, feeling stiff and numb. Impossible.
"Kristy!" he shouted through the traffic.
"Legolas…"
And before she could even register it, blink her frosty lashes open enough to see, he was ducking and weaving through traffic. She almost gasped. He was crossing the freeway!
"Legolas," she coughed, pushing her hood back and letting hair tumble free. "…Stop!" she tried to get upright, but her ankle flared and she stumbled on her hands.
Legolas was across the median and, with a last protesting shriek, horns blaring, he leapt over the guard rail.
"Legolas, what the hell are you doing?" she panted, clutching her leg in agony.
He was on the ground then, breathing fast. Kristy recoiled at the touch and he grabbed her face in gloveless hands. His skin was hot, even in the wind. His scent filled her lungs: smoke, sweet wood, pines.
"Kristy…" he breathed, ripping her hands from her coat.
Kris jolted and yanked back in surprise. They flew over her, feeling her. He tore off her gloves, touching her hands. His fingers worked up her sleeve and gripped her wrists, looking for broken bones…frostbite. Something.
"What are you doing?" she protested. "S-stop!"
"Why are you out here?" he barked, flinching in a blast of wind. Kris winced, shocked at his voice. But he grabbed her face in one hand, flying hot fingertips over her ears, across her lips, grazing her nose and…and he kissed her. Legolas crushed his mouth to her forehead and yanked back again, staring at her.
"What in God's name were you thinking?" he demanded, shaking her. It didn't hurt, but it rattled her teeth and she blinked. "Are you mad? What are you doing out here? You were supposed to come home."
Kristy fumbled for what to say, even as a part of her felt the slow, mind-numbing cold making her sluggish. She couldn't think. She could barely move.
And Legolas kissed her again…on the mouth. It happened so fast she-she couldn't think. But his hot breath shot warmth through her and he clutched the back of her skull in a vice-like grip, pinned her against him so tight she couldn't do anything but kiss him back. Incredible. Searing.
Legolas slid a hand through her hair slowly…a caress, and she was loathe to let him go. His mouth slowly broke away and he licked his lower lip, glancing over her face in the dark. Gone was the anger. All of it.
Kris stared at him, buried in his body's heat, sheltered from the wind by his chest. He was so warm. He was so…so Legolas, she thought stupidly.
"Come on," he muttered, glancing down. He was flustered. She knew it by his erratic breathing. He wasn't playing a game. Not this time. He was afraid...terrified, agitated.
Kris was yanked gently off the sidewalk and even if she wanted to stand, numb and her limbs fast asleep, she couldn't. He pulled her legs off the ground and hefted her into his arms.
"Legolas, I-" she tried, but he cut her off.
"Be quiet."
Legolas was angry and-and… frightening. It was something she barely ever saw in him, something dangerous and commanding, something like a warrior or a killer in every move he made. He was upset. Legolas stepped over the low rail and wove through the backed-up traffic, striding over the eight lanes like they were nothing.
Kris wanted to protest. She wanted to scream at the honks and violent, jerking movements it took to get them back. But it was rush hour, and within five minutes, the road-blocks up ahead stopped up cars for half-a-mile.
They made it.
"You're c-crazy!" she managed as he yanked the car door open, supporting her with one arm and his knee. It was the passenger door, too. He was going to drive! "You can't drive."
"I can," he shot back.
Again, Kristy winced at his voice. The heater was on in here. It was so hot.
Legolas reached across her lap and belted her into the seat, yanking the strap tight across her chest. She was still stiff and she wanted to hit him off. Not out of anger, so much…but confusion. But he pushed her into the seat and the familiar car-smell overwhelmed her.
"Be still," he said more gently, close to her face. And looking up again, taken aback… she realized he was kissing her.
It was so brief, she didn't have time to fight or think or…or anything. His mouth was so hot. It made her forget everything else. One hand grabbing the car roof and the other flat on the console, he pushed his open mouth against hers for a brief, insistent caress…dragging his tongue over her lower lip. He tasted her, caressing her, moving his mouth against hers.
And he was gone.
Slam.
Kris flinched. What the hell?
She panted, panicking as she watched Legolas step off the curb and walk around to the drivers' side. This was so wrong. And…and so fast, it shouldn't be happening like this. It shouldn't be happening at all.
What about this morning? She was so angry. Wasn't he?
Legolas dropped into the drivers' seat, shut the door hard, and stomped on the gas.
"What were you thinking?" he demanded quietly, clamping his mouth shut in anger…or alarm. Kris couldn't decide. He wove and dipped off the highway onto the shoulder, ignoring the protesting honks, and before the road block up ahead, he swerved off the street and onto an exit.
"I…" she took fast, hot breaths of air, trying to think.
But she couldn't. She was starting to shiver hard. The heater was so hot it hurt. Her face was burning with the sudden warmth and belly clenched, she tried desperately to keep the memory of his kiss down.
"I w-was running, that's all. And-and I fell."
"Running home? At five below zero?" he spat. "You're mad!"
Kristy gripped her seat restraints. "A-and what about you? You were throwing knives in the park! You're driving," she spluttered in protest. "You don't even have a license."
Legolas shook his head, as if it didn't matter. He was fairly steady on the road though, to Kris' stunned surprise, and he was a lead foot. A terrible lead foot.
"Roger called," he explained. He sounded like it was the last thing he wanted to do, but he forced the words out. "You had a date with him tonight." He spat it like an accusation.
"So?" she said. Kristy reached out to turn the heater off, but he slapped her hand away.
"Leave it on."
"I didn't need you to come after me!" It came out a pathetic squeak and she swore.
"How long were you going to sit out there?" he said. His voice filled the front seat. "How long do you think you'd last in this cold?"
"It was just a run! If Roger didn't show up, I'd g-get home. He knows what route I take to get home. H-he would have come for me. I'd have been fine!"
"You're mad." He turned his head, struggling to glare at her and keep track of traffic at the same time. "Roger didn't come. Doesn't that tell you anything?"
She didn't answer. She was shaking too hard.
"Why did you go alone?" he protested. "Look at you. You're human Kristine. You are a weak, susceptible, pathetic human and you keep forgetting it!"
Pathetic human. Kristy couldn't believe he just said that. She stared at him, agape.
And then she managed to choke. "Human? Well hate to break it to you, but so are you, pal." Her voice broke. "You're just as human as me, you-you hypocrite."
"You're not like me," Legolas said quietly. He was shaking too. Kristy saw it. His hands, his voice, but not from the cold. "When are you going to realize that? You disobeyed me in the cabin, almost killed yourself following us into those woods. Now this."
He was bringing this up now? How long had he been stewing on that?
"My gun, that troll-"
"Nearly killed you," he finished for her. "Do you know how easy it would be for a night like this to take you? I know what to do. No matter what you see now, I'm not like you, Kristine. Do not dare justify your stupidity by using me. I have lived more years than you could possibly imagine."
She stared at him in the dark.
In the shuddering, nerve-numbing cold, realization sunk in.
Yes.
Legolas was right. She thought he was human, at least like this. No matter how much she told herself no, a tiny idiotic hope burned inside her. She thought he was like her, even in a tiny insignificant way. That's why she clung to these hopes, like he could actually, someday… No.
He wouldn't.
Kristy looked down, feeling miserable and ashamed. Not for forgetting her phone, for running icy streets alone and close to dark, or even falling and hurting herself.
Legolas was a prince. She knew that. Of course she knew it! But she'd never really thought about it.
She thought it didn't matter. But it did. He was a warrior. He…he belonged in a beautiful, immortal fuckingpalace. He didn't belong here. Soon he'd be gone.
He'd be living a thousand years after all this was dead and gone. He'd help shape his world and do great things, be great, marry someone great.
And what was she? Who was she?
Kris turned her face away, and she grimaced so hard it felt like her face would crack. She was a stupid, twenty-something year old girl with tiny dreams.
Legolas breathed softer. "I'm sorry, Kristine."
Kristy held herself tighter, and she wanted to tell him to just shut-up. She didn't want to hear him and his confusing, back-and-forth riddles. He kissed her one minute and belittled her the next. He was Legolas: sweet, arrogant Legolas, and then a prince of his people, domineering, superior. He was someone who could never want someone like her.
But she didn't say any of that. Kris kept her mouth shut and prayed for Roger. She wanted arms to collapse into. She didn't want to be swallowing down sobs and angry words in front of this-this elf, hurting and alone. It was a blow to her pride, every single one.
Legolas heard her broken breathing…and he wanted to touch her, caress her leg. He shouldn't. He was right, after all. But he wanted to. And for some reason, struggling with the controls and the icy streets, he didn't.
. . . . . . . .
A/N: And…ha ha! Legolas can drive. Thanks for reading, and reviewing if you find the time to! Thank you. :))
