Disclaimer: I don't own Harry's Wonderful World or Middle Earth. They unfortunately belong to their rightful inventors.

These Broken Wings

Chapter Five. Run, Run As Fast As You Can

Harry ran like the wind despite the foreign feel to his new body. His long black hair flowed behind him like a long inky stream. His white night shirt, which he failed to notice while in the company of his esteemed 'grandfather', flapped listlessly at his knees. His feet were still bare but carried him with agile easy through the gates of Imladris.

Harry came to the realisation that he liked running. Running required very little thought, the mechanical movements of his body stopped him from thinking about his rather unorthodox situation. If only he could keep running he would never have to face the inevitable. He was alone in this world that was so unfamiliar; all he had were the elves.

Harry was not afraid of the elves. They had plucked him from his sorry situation and had tended to him. No. He just didn't want to admit that fate was playing with him once more.

'Why me?' Harry growled internally. He closed his eyes for a split second and ran straight into a tree.

Humph! Harry landed quite heavily on his rear end which was pointedly more bony than he remembered. Raising a shaking hand to his forehead he rubbed his skin ruefully glad that no one had noticed his clumsy accident. He knew however he was going to be sporting a brand new bruise on his face.

Shakily Harry got to his feet and glanced around to look at his surroundings. Typical to his Gryffindor nature Harry realised that he had acted rashly without thinking. His heart sunk into the depths of his intestines.

"Great," Harry muttered with a crass swear word or three. "Where am I?"

Harry spun in a three sixty degree circle and came up with a concise answer to which he gave himself. "You're alone in the middle of a foreign forest with no food, no drinking water, and no idea in which direction you came from you over grown dolt…. And you're wearing a rather ugly nightie…"

Harry snorted to himself. They say the first signs of insanity was talking to yourself and the second stage answering oneself. And admittedly to be fair the nightie wasn't all that ugly… It was soft against his skin, an off white colour with long sleeves and trims decorated with complicated leafy patterns. It however it stop the sad realisation that Harry officially looked like a girl…

Raising a hand to his cheek Harry realised that he had been crying. "Fine," he muttered to himself, kicking the unfortunate debris on the ground listlessly. He decided to sit silently on a fallen log and wait for either someone to rescue or rob him.

It turned out he didn't have very long to wait for the 'rescue' party.

The first signs of this fact Harry ignored putting it down to his active imagination which had been heightened since the end of the school year. He was sure he had heard someone (or something) talking. But in the next moment everything was silent. This happened a few times and Harry was becoming edgy. Maybe waiting for someone to mug him wasn't the brightest idea after all…

"ARRRGGGHHH!"

Harry fell backwards as a force came out of no where and knocked him off the log. He tumbled to the ground and lashed out in any way to the creature that had rudely attacked him. He punched. He kicked. He bit. He scratched. And he cursed.

A few moments later however he was successfully pinned underneath a slim (but obviously larger and stronger) elf. Harry writhed underneath the raven haired elf cursing and kicking feebly.

But light laughter soon distracted Harry.

Very slowly Harry turned his head to the side to see an identical elf grinning at him and clutching his sides. Harry paused his kicking and stared.

The elf on top slowly got to his feet. Harry remained on the ground glaring at him threateningly. His body was taut as if expecting another attack from either twin.

"My apologies Master Elerossë…"

"For my brother's lapse in civilised etiquette…"

"But you scared our Ada somewhat…"

"Running away from his expert care like you did…"

"And you left poor Erestor to pick up all his tomes…"

"As fascinating as they are…"

Harry glanced from twin to twin as each spoke in turn. They were taller than he, well muscled, with long raven braid, steely grey eyes and elegant features. Harry wasn't fooled. They could be dangerous if they wanted to be.

"Who are you?" Harry harshly demanded glaring at his attackers.

"Forgive our lack of manners, Master Elerossë…"

"My brother Elrohir…"

"And my brother Elladan…"

"Now come with us," Elrohir said (or was it Elladan – Harry shook his head in confusion), holding out his hand.

"Why?" Harry demanded. He knew he was being incredibly stupid smart talking these elves but at that point of time he didn't particularly care about consequences.

Both the twins raised their elegant eyebrows in perfect unison, which only served to confuse Harry more, and grabbed hold of him and started to drag him.

"Please forgive us…"

"We really don't want to frog march you back to Imladris…"

"But Ada would have a fit if we returned without his precious Elerossë."

Both twins glanced at each other and laughed as if they were sharing some secret joke.

Harry huffed and got to his feet. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll return to Imladris even if I don't like it."

"That's the spirit, mellon nin."

"By the way how did you get that bruise?"

Harry blushed turned his face away whipping his perfect pale complexion which his raven locks as he did so. He pushed his way past he twins and huffily marched in the direction the twins had pointed themselves.

"Proud that one is," Elladan commented. "He'll drive Ada mad."

"Wicked…"