Washed UP - Legolas/LOTR Fanfiction

Chapter One

The figure that watched me over the tall sand dunes slowly made its way down to the water’s edge. I was frozen in disbelief, not to mention the ocean’s icy temperature. The figure, I realized, was an elf, a regal male elf at that. We stared at each other in confusion for a while. I don’t think either of us had any idea what was going on.

“This water is cold,” I stated, breaking the silence.

“Get out of there, then! You’ll freeze to death if you wait any longer.” The elf said, looking curiously at my black tiger print togs. I waded back to shore, keeping a wary eye on the elf. He seemed familiar.

“Do you have a towel or something?” I asked.

“A towel? I do not know of this towel, but I do have a spare cloak.” He replied, motioning for me to follow him.

We walked over the sand dunes, the breeze drying the salt water on my skin. I wrung my hair, attempting to get some of the sand out of it in the process. I sat on a stray patch of grass while the elf retrieved the cloak and a bundle of clothes from his saddlebags. His horse was very handsome, long wavy mane and shining dappled grey coat. In stature it was somewhat similar to an Andalusian, strong legs, quarters and neck, each and every part of it displaying grace and power.

“Here, they will be a bit large for one of your size, but they are the only spare clothes I brought with me,” The elf said, handing me a lump of green clothing.

I threw the loose shirt and pants over my togs and wrapped the cloak around myself for warmth. The elf observed me quietly, eyes full of questions.

“Who are you, and… where am I?” I inquire.

“I am Prince Legolas Thranduilion of Mirkwood, the Woodland Realm, and you are in Middle-earth.” He said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Middle-earth? Oh,” I murmured. “This place. I thought it was only a story…”

“A story? I can assure you that Middle-earth is no story.” Prince Legolas said.

“Prince Legolas, I am from another world, I think, and I do not know how I got here. Will you help me?” I asked, knowing it was a great risk revealing that I was not from this world.

“I go by Legolas, and I will try to help you. But first, who are you?” Legolas replied, and for the first time I realized how beautiful he actually was. Smooth blond hair, bright grey eyes that sparkled with curiosity, and a perfect complexion that most people my age would kill for. Beauty was natural and effortless for those like him, he was an elf after all.

“I am….Flame of New Zealand.” I said, deciding to use my nickname as it would more likely fit in better than my real name.

“What race are you of, I have not seen ones like you before...?

“I am of the race of Men.” I said simply.

“Men?” Legolas looked confused, his gaze fixed on my ears.

“Wh-“I felt my ears, and they were pointed at the top. “Oh my god…”

“This is a matter for another day,” Legolas declared firmly, “We must make haste to reach Rivendell before the full moon.”

The stallion’s hooves drummed a song on the soggy path that ran parallel to the Grey-flood River. The elf, Legolas, told me it had rained here for many days as he rode swiftly towards the ocean. He would not tell me what compelled him to ride to me on the shore of the raging sea. He said I would not understand; that even he did not understand.

The day passed slowly, the sun inching its way across the sky like a lethargic snail. My attempts at conversation with Legolas were brushed aside, it was clear his mind was preoccupied with something else, and I sighed for what could have been the thousandth time.