Disclaimer: I do not own them. I borrow them, make them do my bidding and release.

AN: (Edited as of April 5, 2010) Five years after the beginning of this little epic, I have decided that it's high time to go back and fix things so that they read a little better. Spelling, grammar, little things like that. Nothing major has been changed otherwise: I baby this thing too much to allow it to be radically redone. It has character. :D

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Estel ran. His legs burned, and a stitch grew in his side, making his breathing harsh. But he couldn't stop. If he did, someone would die. But he knew of no one in danger. 'Then why are you running?' a small voice asked. He had no answer.

But he kept running. Something told him that if he did not continue, a life would be lost unnecessarily. As he neared the cliffs bordering the stretch downriver from the waterfall, he could dimly hear the sounds of battle, even over the rushing water.

Rough yells and cries mingled with an animal's roar. Hot as he was, Estel's blood froze. Orcs and Wargs so close to Rivendell was incredible, the creatures never ventured this close to the safe haven of Imladris.

But it was even more dangerous for whoever was trapped up there. For a second, Estel's heart stopped beating. What if one of the twins was trapped? He quickly dismissed the idea: he had seen them in the library on the way out. But no Rivendell patrols were out. A group of visitors maybe?

His musings were abruptly cut short. A tall figure appeared at the edge of the cliff, slim and leaning heavily to one side. Smaller, more numerous figures crept into his line of vision. The tall figure exploded into motion, and Estel knew at once it was an elf.

It moved gracefully although slow with exhaustion and injury. The orcs didn't stand a chance. One by one they were cut down by the elf's twin knives. Estel stood frozen, not even feeling his thin boots sink into the snow as a large bulky orc crept up behind the unsuspecting elf.

The human opened his mouth to warn the Eldar, but no sound came out. The elf spun after dispatching his last opponent, spotting the orc too late as the creature swung its heavy blade for the fatal blow.

The elf brought his left arm up to parry with amazing speed but it was far too late. The orcan blade skipped over the slender elven knife. The elf twisted desperately, but the blade found its mark deep in the elf's side.

The Eldar stumbled backward, teetering on the edge of the cliff. He valiantly fought the pull of gravity, but the pull proved too much, and the elf fell, plummeting to the cold waters below. The orc raised its blood stained sword and roared its victory.

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Estel came awake with a start. He was home, safe in his own bed, but the dream remained deep in his stomach, the foreboding seemed to grow. The early morning sunlight streamed in through his window. The human sighed and ran his hands through his shoulder-length dark hair. "Now I will have to go look."

The tight feeling across his chest worsened. He dressed quickly and began to sneak out of his room, intent on escaping before—"Estel!" Drats.

The twins staggered out of their separate rooms, wiping the sleep from their eyes. "Where are you going?" a sleepy Elrohir yawned.

"The cliffs." He answered tersely as the tightness flooded over him. "I think—someone might be in danger." The twins exchanged worried glances. "No, you don't need to come with me," he added quickly, seeing Elladan open his mouth to protest. "What time did you get home last night? Three? Four?"

Elladan and Elrohir had been out hunting orcs in an effort to take their frustrations out on the foul creatures who took the lives of their mother and best friend. No more than eight months had passed since Mirkwood sent word that Legolas Greenleaf, Thrandulion, was dead, killed while riding near the eastern border. When patrols were sent, all that had been found were signs of a struggle: orc bodies and a large amount of blood, both black orcish, and the vibrant red of the elves.

The twins were greatly depressed and were quiet for days after receiving the news. As their grief began to numb, anger replaced their immediate sadness. And the hunting continued, with a new edge. "No, we'll come. Horses?"

Estel sighed, then drew in a surprised breath as the feeling turned into desperation. "Yes. We must go now!"

Estel felt the movement of his horse underneath him, but his mind was totally fixed on the scenery around. "It is just… there!" he slipped off of Jelios and raced toward the spot that attracted his attention. Elladan followed, with Elrohir close behind.

"By the Valar…"

Dead orcs and wargs littered the ground. The ugly black blood pooled on the ground, the snow's whiteness marred. Estel looked closer and saw a brilliant red, mixed in with the black to create a morbid painting.

Arrows protruded from the wargs, while the orcs were obviously killed with a knife. Trampled snow led directly up to the edge of the cliff. Here, more blood was spilt, this time mainly red. Estel remembered his dream, the orc plunging it's blade into the elf's side… No. It couldn't be.

But, was this just a bizarre coincidence? Estel remembered the elf's plunge into the river and leaped up. Elladan looked up startled from examining a body. "We have to go look downriver."

Without a word, the three began to make their way down the cliff, using an old mule trail etched into the side. The rock proved slippery, and Estel cursed heavily as his foot slipped. Elrohir gave him a cuff on the head, although he was smiling. "Now, Estel, what would Ada say if he heard that king of language? You are but fifteen, young even for a human."

"Don't you start with the 'humans are inferior' thing again," Estel warned as he leapt the last 5 feet to the ground. "Just because you have pointed ears…"

"We don't get sick either," pointed out Elladan.

"And we walk on the snow instead of in it," Elrohir said, sticking his tongue out at the ranger as he passed the human struggling through the snow.

It was childish, he knew, but Estel poked his tongue right back. "Hmmph." His eyes traveled downriver, and widened in shock. "En!"

He raced forward, paying no heed to the stones that slid dangerously under his feet, the twins close behind. Lying on a slim stretch of riverbank, was the limp form of an elf.

The Eldar lay half on his side, blonde hair soaked and streaming with water. The elf's face was caked with blood and mud, it was impossible to see any identifying features. A deep wound was gouged into his side, and the left arm was crooked, revealing a broken bone above the wrist. Many cuts and bruises could be seen underneath the mud, and a large gash ran along his forehead.

Estel dropped onto his knees and felt frantically for a pulse. Yes, it was there, but very weak. The elf would die if he did not get immediate attention. "One of you go back and warn Ada. We have to get him out of here."

Elladan turned and, nearly tripping in his haste, raced for the cliff. Estel turned to Elrohir and together, they gently lifted the elf, marveling at how light the being was. Navigating the cliff would be very difficult, but possible.

The trail was rough, and many times either one or the other would slip, nearly pulling the unconscious elf over the edge. Although the elf was very light, after carrying the limp body up a steep mountain, "We might as well be carrying you,Estel."

Estel was huffing too much to reply, but he made a face at his brother and took a better hold.

Elladan was long gone by the time they reached the top to stand for a bit, gasping for air. Estel mounted his horse, and Elrohir handed the elf up after him. Estel let the elf slump back against him, and took hold of the reins.

Elrohir watched with a half amused, half sad look. When Estel questioned him, he simply answered, "He looks so familiar, but... it can't be who I think it is." Estel kicked his horse into a gentle walk and let the comment go.

They went as fast as they dared, but it still took nearly twenty minutes to make the last mile. As they entered through the gates, they were met by Elrond, who quickly took over the situation. Before either human or elf could determine what happened, they were in a small room and scurrying to Elrond's commands.

"Water, bandages, sponge –don't just stand there ion nin- go get them!" Elrond took a pair of scissors and carefully cut through the sodden tunic, peeling it away from the elf's skin. Bruising along the right side stood out glaringly against the pale skin, but Elrond was much more concerned with the wound from the sword.

Estel hurried back into the room, laden with buckets of warm water and sponges. Elrond took one of them and set to tending the still-bleeding gash. Estel took the other and, under his father's instruction, began to clean off the elf's face.

As Elrond stopped the bleeding and began to stitch the wound closed, porcelain features were slowly revealed. The master of Rivendell paused in his work to check the pupils of his patient, which he announced were just slightly dilated, but there was no immediate danger. Estel caught sight of piercing blue eyes before the lids closed.

The young human continued his task, cleaning out the gash on the elf's forehead and removing all traces of nature. Elrond stood up straight, having finished bandaging the side and taping several broken ribs.

The twins entered the room and spotted the patient just as their father did. Estel did not notice the sudden silence as he stared at the elf. Something was troubling him: he knew this person, but could not place either memory or name to the face.

Suddenly, two shocked elves were beside him, staring down at the motionless figure. "Ada.." Elladan whispered, softly, as if he did not trust himself to speak. "Is that?"

"Legolas."

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TBC