To Find a King

Morning dawned cold and clear, the wind bitter, but the snowstorms past. Rivendell was still blanketed in white as Legolas pulled on his robe and boots. He had heard Lord Elrond and the other riders return during the night, but had decided that he was too comfortable in his warm bed to go and confront the Lord at once. But now, dressed and breakfasted, the Woodland Prince had questions, and he would not be ignored.

Legolas found the Lord of Imladris tucked away in one of Rivendell's smaller libraries, a room that was more of an alcove with bookshelf lined walls than a true library, searching through an old and dusty dome.

"My Lord Elrond," Legolas said, alerting his host to his presence.

"Ah, Legolas," Lord Elrond replied, "You must forgive my sudden departure yesterday morning. Matters were brought to my attention which could not be ignored. Take a seat, if you wish," he said, gesturing for Legolas to sit.

Legolas sat down on the chair beside the desk where Lord Elrond leaned over the book. Lord Elrond shook his head, unable to find what it was he was after and closed the ancient tome, returning it to the shelf.

"You have questions," Lord Elrond said, taking a seat opposite the Prince.

"My father told me to find one of the Dúnedain Rangers," Legolas said, wondering if Lord Elrond and his father had indeed engaged in correspondence. Lord Elrond's expression did naught to make it clear either way.

"What would King Thranduil want with a Ranger?" Lord Elrond asked, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly.

To make him King, Legolas thought. "That I know not," he lied.

Lord Elrond sighed knowingly. "If neither of us are truthful, then neither deserves the answers he seeks."

"I seek the son of Arathorn, and I know him to be the rightful Heir to the Throne of Gondor," Legolas confessed, leaning forward slightly. Lord Elrond was right; there was little point in lying if either wished to know the truth.

"You know not his name?" Lord Elrond asked, ever so slightly bemused.

"If my father knows it, he did not share. I know this Ranger goes by the name of Strider."

Lord Elrond gave a slight nod. "That is the name oft used for him by the men of the north and the west. In Rivendell, most still refer to him as Estel."

"The boy Estel?" Legolas asked. He recalled hearing of Lord Elrond fostering a human child, and of giving him that most peculiar name.

"Yes," Lord Elrond replied.

"And what was the name his father gave to him?" Legolas enquired.

"Ada, have you seen - oh," Elrohir said, bursting into the study, Elladan close on his heels. "Legolas. Found him."

"Be gone, ionnath-nin," Lord Elrond said, waving his hand, dismissing his sons.

"So serious on such a beautiful winter's morn, Ada? After you were out all yesterday?" Elladan smiled.

"And unless my ears deceive me, did I not hear mention of our brother Estel?" Elrohir asked.

"What was his birth-name?" Legolas asked again, turning toward the twins.

"Who, Aragorn?" Elrohir asked.

"Aragorn," Legolas said slowly, testing the name. He turned back to Lord Elrond who Legolas could not help but think looked annoyed.

"Have you had word from Estel, Ada?" Elladan asked, encouragingly. "It has been a long while in the life of men since we have had word from him," he said as an aside to Legolas.

"All of you, out," Lord Elrond said, standing up. "Legolas, find Aragorn if you wish but expect little of him." Lord Elrond stalked out of the library past Legolas and the twins, disappearing down the hall.

Legolas could not help but feel confused at the Lord's actions. He stood and turned to his friends. "What does he mean?"

"Ada is not particularly happy with our dear Estel," Elladan said, "Ever since the Ada told him who he truly is, and the burden with which those titles bear."

"He's quite like you really," Elrohir said casually, "Everything got too much for him, so he ran away."

Before anyone could stop him, Legolas had grabbed Elrohir and slammed him into the wall. "You know nothing of what I have done!" the Prince yelled, "You have no understanding!"

"Legolas!" Elladan yelled, grabbing Legolas and pulling him off his twin. "He meant no offence!"

Legolas stood glaring at Elrohir, his heart pounding in his chest, his hands shaking. Whatever had come over Legolas scared him more than he could say. It was not like him to act so violently, and he did not like it. "Let me go," Legolas said to Elladan, brushing his friend's hands off of him. "You do not understand," the Prince stressed, his words strained, and hurried out of the library.

"Legolas!" Elrohir called after him, hurt and confusion in his voice, but Legolas continued without pause.

Once returned to his chambers, Legolas quickly shut the door. He grabbed his possessions, his knives, his bow and quiver full of arrows, the clothes he had arrived in which had been laundered, and threw them onto the bed. He would change, take his weapons and go. He looked around the room, checking he hadn't forgotten anything. Everything was too small and too close and there wasn't enough air and he felt angry and - it was wrong. Everything felt wrong, and Legolas knew it. He turned and stared out of the large window at the scene of Rivendell, blanketed in snow, the sky bright blue up above and forced himself to calm his racing mind. The scene outside was beautiful.

"Legolas?"

Legolas turned as he heard his name whispered. "Arwen," the Prince said. Lady Arwen stood half in his chambers, the door opened only a few inches as though she was afraid to enter.

"I just wanted to be sure you were alright. You did not come to lunch."

"Lunch?" Legolas asked. Had he not only recently breakfasted?

"Some hours have passed since you shoved my brother against the wall," Arwen said. Legolas blushed. "Do you worry yourself," she continued, entering the room and walking gracefully toward him. "All if forgiven. And do not think yourself the only one who sometimes wishes to give that elf a shove," Arwen smiled gently and sat down on the bed beside where Legolas stood.

"You know?" Legolas asked, feeling ashamed at his earlier actions, as well as confusion at his absentmindedness. He did not realise how much time had passed as he stared out of the window.

"We all know," Arwen said gently. Legolas guessed that she meant more than just his altercation with Elrohir. "They understand, Legolas," she said, looking his in the eyes.

"I do not," he swollowed, turning away.

"You plan to leave." It was not a question.

"I cannot stay. I should not have come," the Prince said. He could not go home to the Halls of his father, he felt trapped in Rivendell; could no where he find peace?

"You will go to find Aragorn."

There was something in the way that Arwen said his name that made Legolas turn back to look at her. "You know where to find him?" Legolas asked.

"No," Arwen answered, "But I would first look to the south. Spending the winter in the north would be folly."

"How shall I know him when I find him?" Legolas asked.

The edges of Arwen's mouth twitched, teasing at a smile. "He's tall, about your height. He has dark hair, and wears it to his shoulders as is common for men. He has grey eyes and a strong, handsome face. And he wears the Ring of Barahir."

"That is quite an heirloom," Legolas said, recalling the history of the ring.

"It is his by birthright," Arwen said.

"As is the Throne of Gondor," Legolas said.

"Why do you seek him?" Arwen asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"My father told me to," Legolas replied emotionlessly.

"And you do all your father asks?" Arwen teased ever so slightly.

Legolas could not help but smirk ever so slightly. "I believe you know the true answer to that, my Lady Arwen."

"So why this quest? Why Aragorn?"

Again, Legolas heard that note in her voice as she said his name. He hesitated before answering. "I must do something good. To long have I fought a losing battle against the evil which lays waste to my father's Realm. I must find," Legolas paused, unsure of whether he wanted to say the word on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he found another. "I must find this Ranger alone."