Title: Unwilling Consort  
Author: Red Autumn (red_autumn21@yahoo.com)  
Pairing(s): Legolas/Elrohir/Elladan, Legolas/Glorfindel, 
Legolas/Aragorn (briefly), Legolas/Boromir, Legolas/Elrond  
Rating: NC17, Rape, Angst, Romance  
Summary: Rivendell and Mirkwood are enemies. One innocent 
victim was made to suffer for a feud that happened 
millenias ago.  
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine and it's all 
fictitious.  I just like to fantasize them.  
Warning: Please heed the ratings.  
Authors Note:  Comments welcome.  Cheers!  
 
 
 
PART 12  
 
For the last three days, Legolas has laid still in bed.  He 
did not move, not even blink an eye.  Aragorn could not 
tell if he was asleep or awake.  The healers had assured 
him that the Prince was very much alive though very weak.  
He had not eaten nor drank anything.  He had tried every 
thing to get Legolas to respond.  He tried talking to him 
in a gentle manner and even used threats but nothing 
provoked the elf to show any signs of life.  
 
The King was beginning to think that he has only the empty 
shell of Legolas with him.  It exasperated the man to 
almost insanity to see the young elf torture himself like 
that.  
 
Grief.  Aragorn was grieving too.  
 
For the first time in his life, Aragorn was truly afraid of 
loosing someone he really cared.  The elf was grieving and 
it would not last very long.  Day by day he saw the face 
becoming paler and the breath shallower.  
 
He felt so helpless, unable to do anything for the golden 
Prince.  
 
Legolas has withdrawn deep into himself.  He no longer 
cared about the world outside.  He was just too tired to 
bear the pain of his body, his spirit and his soul.  There 
is nothing left for him.  He just wants to go away.  
 
The inner turmoil has affected the King very much.  He has 
lost most of his appetite.  He spent most of his time 
beside Legolas wanting to be there when the Prince awakes 
from his retreat.  As a result, he severely neglected his 
duty as a King.  
 
Luckily, Faramir had helped him a lot.  A new Steward was 
quickly appointed.  Gossips and questions about Boromir’s 
treachery were speedily quashed.  They cannot afford a 
scandal.  The hunt for him had to be done secretly.  
 
“Aragorn………Aragorn,” called Faramir, trying to wake the 
King from his uneasy sleep.  
 
They were friends for many years when Aragorn was a 
ranger.  Even after he had taken office, Faramir was by his 
side, swearing his loyalty and faith in his King.  Alone, 
he would use his friend’s true name.  
 
He had seen how much withdrawn the ex-ranger had become.  
It worries him much.  
 
The King woke up drowsily as he was quite exhausted from 
the lack of sleep.  He looked at his friend and smiled 
faintly.  
 
“Is Legolas awake?” he asked absent-mindedly.  
 
“No, he has not.  There’s something urgent you must attend 
to personally,” answered Faramir urgently.  
 
“What?”  Aragorn rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the fogs 
in his mind.  
 
“There is a company of soldiers riding towards Minas 
Tirith.  They will be arriving here tomorrow morning,”  
 
Aragorn was surprised.  “Do you know who they are?”  
 
“According to the border patrol guards, they are elves,”  
 
This time Aragorn’s face paled.  Faramir let the King 
digest this new information before he continued.  “You know 
as well as I do, who they could be.”  
 
“King Thranduil, Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir,” 
muttered the King.  
 
“What do you want me to do, Aragorn?”  
 
There was silence as the man thought.  
 
“There’s nothing much we can do Faramir” he sighed.  “Just 
lead them to the Private Audience Chamber.  I will deal 
with whatever is coming,”  
 
“All right, Aragorn.  You should try to get some rest now.  
You will need a lot of energy tomorrow to face them.”  
Saying this, he placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a 
soft squeeze.  Then he left the chamber, closing the door 
silently behind him.  
 
Aragorn let out another sigh.  He is so tired and things 
are getting worst.  
 
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  
 
A huge commotion had gathered at the gates into Minas 
Tirith.  It spread quickly like wild fire.  Soon people 
were poking out of their windows and doors, others milling 
about the streets and the squares.  Shops were empty as 
everyone gathered to the street.  Citizens spilled from 
everywhere like ants attracted to honey.  It was one of the 
greatest sights the people of the White Tower have ever 
witnessed.  
 
A company consisting of 5 Gondorian soldiers acting as 
honour guards rode at the head of the new comers, guiding 
them along the streets towards the castle.  Behind them 
were Lord Elrond, King Thranduil and Lord Celeborn, riding 
side by side.  The three leaders rode with their body 
upright and head held up high.  Lord Elrond and King 
Thranduil were still attired in their full battle garments, 
drawing much attention to them.  Their mithril coats shone 
brightly under the sun.  
 
Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir brought up the rear, together 
with Lord Celeborn’s three most trusted Galadrim patrol 
guards – Haldir, Rumil and Orophin.  There was also a small 
company of elf soldiers from Mirkwood and Rivendell to 
complete the procession.  
 
They rode with pride and in silence.  Flags showing the 
emblem of Mirkwood and Imladris flapped proudly.  Their 
armors shone under the sun as elf soldiers are very 
disciplined and meticulous about appearances.  
 
The elves had not entered the city in such manner for more 
that a century.  Most people had never seen an elf before 
though everyone knew they existed.  All eyes were gawking 
and staring ceaselessly and mouths hanging open in awe.  
Whispers were traded with neighbours and some even threw 
flowers at them.  
 
The honour guards finally stopped just pass the stone steps 
leading into the castle so that the visiting dignitaries 
could get off right in front of the staircase.  Faramir was 
already waiting for them with his second-in-command, 
Beltan.  
 
As soon as they got off the horses, Faramir greeted them 
with a low bow and ushered them up the stairs.  The King of 
Gondor was waiting for them at the huge doorway.  He looked 
weary and eyes slightly blood-shot.  His feeble attempt to 
smile and appear friendly was soon replaced with a serious 
face.  
 
King Thranduil glowed menacingly.  Legolas closely 
resembled his father in every way except the hard serious 
face and cold blue eyes.  Even Aragorn felt uncomfortable 
whenever the King of Mirkwood scrutinized him.  
 
Lord Elrond’s face was difficult to tell.  He had remained 
neutral throughout but his twin sons shot angry looks at 
their foster brother.  Only Lord Celeborn smiled in return 
as also the three brothers who followed from behind.  
 
Beltan lead the rest of the elf escorts to a huge open 
ground where tents were already set up for them.  A few 
servants were running in and out fetching more things and 
running errands.  
 
“Where is Legolas?” demanded King Thranduil immediately.  
His stare bored into Aragorn, disgust shown on his face.  
 
Aragorn did not answer immediately.  He tried to calm 
himself down first as he felt his heart racing and the 
adrenaline made his hands shake.  Then he stopped mid-
stride and turned to face them.  
 
His shoulders slump in weariness and defeat.  “There’s been 
an accident.  He is not well right now and I don’t know 
what to do anymore,”  
 
“What do you mean?” asked King Thranduil, his voice hard.  
 
“Aragorn, what happened to Legolas?” joined Lord Elrond.  
The twins were immediately by his side.  
 
“Come with me.”  
 
Along the way, Aragorn tried his best to describe what had 
happened.  
 
When they got into the chamber, everyone gathered around 
Legolas.  It shocked them to see the wasted body lying on 
the bed.  
 
The azure eyes were lifeless and staring blankly ahead of 
him.  His skin was sallow, his face extremely pale and 
gaunt.  His golden hair no longer shines.  
 
“Legolas!” cried King Thranduil.  “It’s me, ada.  I’ve come 
to take you home,” he shook his son desperately.  “Why 
isn’t he responding?” his eyes wide with fear.  He looked 
at Elrond and Aragorn.  
 
“Let me take a look,” said Elrond and he stood beside 
Thranduil.  
 
Everyone was silent as the elven healer examined Legolas.  
 
Several minutes later, he stood up, concern etched in his 
face.  
 
“Aragorn, I want you to go immediately to my bag and 
retrieve the brown leather box.”  Aragorn left the chamber 
straightaway.  “The rest of you must leave this room now,” 
ordered Lord Elrond as his healer’s side took over.  
 
King Thranduil wanted to protest but Lord Celeborn coaxed 
him to do what was told.  
 
“Saes Elrond.  Save my son,” said the King of Mirkwood in a 
pleading tone.  
 
After the door was closed behind them, Lord Elrond turned 
to look at the motionless Prince.  He discarded his armours 
and traveling tunic.  With only his silver coloured shirt 
left, he rolled up the sleeves and washed his hands.  
 
The raven-haired Lord sat on the bed next to Legolas and 
stroked his forehead tenderly.  
 
// Legolas! ~ ~ Someone is calling my name. ~ ~ Legolas. ~ 
~ There it is again!  That voice.  I know that voice. ~ ~ 
My little Greenleaf, come back to us.  We want you home.  
We are waiting for you…….. I am waiting for you. ~ ~ Where 
is that voice coming from?  How did he get here?  It’s 
impossible. ~ ~ Come back to me, my sweet.  Come back to 
your love.  I am waiting for you.  Don’t leave me here 
alone, saes. ~ ~ No.  I don’t want to go away from here.  I 
like it here. ~ ~ Saes Legolas, don’t leave us. ~ ~ I’m 
sorry.  I can’t.  I don’t want to go back.  Don’t make me 
go back. ~ ~ Legolas, I love you.  I truly love you. ~ ~ 
(shocked) You do?  You really really do love me? ~ ~ Come 
back to me.  I am waiting for you. ………..//  
 
* ~ * ~ *  
 
Elrond finally came out of the chamber.  He looked 
completely drained and his hair slightly disheveled.  
Sweats wetted his forehead and stained his collar and 
armpits.  
 
“How is Legolas?” questioned the anxious group.  
 
“He is safe for now.  But he has not recovered.  He is 
grieving and luckily we came just in time.  He wanted to 
leave for the Halls of Mandos.”  
 
“No!  Legolas!” cried Thranduil and wanted to rush into the 
bedchamber.  
 
“No, Thranduil,” Elrond blocked him with a hand 
outstretched.  “Let him rest.  He is exhausted too.  
Tonight I will stay with him.  The rest of you get some 
rest.  I will let you know how he fares tomorrow,”  
 
* ~ * ~ *  
 
There were a few more hours to dawn.  Elrond had fallen 
asleep on the chair.  His head lolled to one side, leaning 
against the back of the chair and his shoulder propped up 
as a support for his head.  
 
Legolas stirred on the bed.  He blinked his eyes several 
times.  Then he sat up weakly.  He saw the Lord of 
Rivendell asleep.  A faint smile formed on his mouth.  He 
gave a big yawn and lied down again.  Feeling safe, he went 
back to sleep easily.  
 
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  
 
“I want my son back as soon as he is fit to travel,” 
declared Thranduil, his tone hard.  
 
Lord Celeborn’s patience was wearing thin.  King Thranduil 
is an extremely stubborn elf and right now, he felt like 
wringing his neck till he turns as blue as his eyes.  
 
They had been seated in the King’s Private Audience Chamber 
since late morning and the arguments immediately started 
again, just as what happened when he arbitrated in 
Imladris.  No one would relent.  
 
Haldir and his two brothers were standing behind Lord 
Celeborn, listening passively to the heated dispute and 
prepared to diffuse anyone should it turn into a fistfight.  
 
King Thranduil was seated on Celeborn’s right as well as 
Aragorn, with Faramir in between, while Elrond was on the 
left with the twins.  
 
“He is our consort.  He will come back with us,” defied 
Elladan.  
 
“Don’t forget our elven laws, King Thranduil.  We are his 
first so he is bound to us,” added Elrohir.  
 
Aragorn wanted to defend for Legolas but stopped himself 
when Faramir placed a hand on his shoulder.  He shook his 
head slightly and gave him a look that said not to add more 
problems than it already has.  The King bit his tongue.  
 
“I’m sorry King Thranduil.  They are right.  We cannot go 
against the laws set down to the Firstborn,” remarked Lord 
Celeborn.  He laced his fingers on top of the table.  
 
“I don’t care!  I will not let my son live his immortal 
life in the hands of those elves who took him against his 
will.”  The King of Mirkwood glared at the twins 
accusingly.  
 
Lord Elrond had remained inert throughout.  All the yelling 
and disagreement were going nowhere.  He wished Glorfindel 
were by his side now.  He needed the elf’s strength and 
support.  
 
“Thranduil, think of it.  Two great kingdoms joined forces 
through marriage.  We need to unite to fight against the 
coming evil that plagues our lands just as our ancestors 
before us,” coaxed the silver haired lord.  
 
“No!” yelled King Thranduil, his face red with anger.  He 
was beginning to loose his temper again.  “Mirkwood do not 
need any help from outside, especially not from the HALF-
BREEDS,” he said icily, emphasizing the last word.  
 
The elves of Rivendell sat up sharply and growled 
menacingly at the golden King.  The three Galadrim tensed, 
ready to jump at the first sign of trouble.  
 
“Please, everyone, settle down!  We are here to discuss, 
not fight,” shouted Lord Celeborn, trying to diffuse the 
tension that is threatening to blow.  
 
Suddenly, the door to the chamber burst open, startling 
everyone.  A lone figure stepped inside.  
 
“Legolas, why are you here?  You should be resting in bed,” 
voiced Lord Elrond worriedly.  
 
“I have rested enough, Lord Elrond.  I thank you for your 
concern.”  Legolas smiled faintly.  Turning his attention 
to the Lord of Lothlorien, he addressed him.  “Lord 
Celeborn, as I am the object of this heated argument, may I 
be allowed to express my opinion?”  
 
Lord Celeborn nodded.  “Please do, Prince Legolas,”  
 
The young Prince looked at everyone in the room one by one 
as everyone set their eyes on him in return.  
 
“I am Prince Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of 
Mirkwood.  I am not a property to be passed around as seen 
fit!  No one in this room can decide my life,” he hissed.  
 
The chamber had turned silent.  No one spoke for the young 
elf had spoken the truth.  
 
“Lord Celeborn, is it true that I must choose either Lord 
Elladan or Lord Elrohir as my husband?”  
 
“Yes, it is true,” he answered simply.  
 
“Even if it means that I will eventually die of grief from 
this binding?”  
 
Before Celeborn could answer, Elrond intervened.  “There is 
another way,”  
 
All eyes fell on Lord Elrond now.  Celeborn was curious.  
 
“It is rare that such an event would happen but I have read 
that there is a solution to this.  With the consent and 
agreement of the two parties involved, the promise of 
binding may be forfeited.  The elf that chose another to be 
bound with must seek approval from this third party.  Then 
it is the responsibility of this third party to care for 
his/her mate’s well being.  If this third party fails, 
he/she will be banished to a mortal life and never to find 
its way back to the elven world.”  
 
“I see,” mumbled Legolas, a frown appeared on his face as 
he concentrated on this new idea.  
 
“Legolas, you do not have to choose.  I will defend your 
honour,” said his father.  He knew that his son is doomed 
to this fate as there is no third party who is willing to 
be bound to Legolas in a loveless marriage.  
 
“I know you love me very much, father and would do anything 
to protect me.  However I would also like to protect our 
family’s honour.  I will choose,”  
 
The atmosphere in the chamber suddenly turned cold.  Three 
pairs of hopeful eyes – Elladan, Elrohir and Aragorn, gazed 
at the Prince closely.  Everyone was tensed, waiting for 
Legolas to make his decision.  
 
It had seemed agonizingly torturing as ten hearts pumped 
furiously.  Only Legolas’s heart was calm and his face 
showed serenity.  It was as if he has decided on his fate 
and accepted it.  
 
“I choose…..,” everyone’s head drew closer, wanting to hear 
the name spoken from the young elf’s lips.  “Lord Elrond.”  
 
“WHAT????” cried everyone at once.  
 
Lord Elrond’s head snapped up.  He could not believe his 
ears of what he had just heard.  There must be a mistake.  
 
However, when he probed into the azure eyes that are now 
staring back at him, he saw it.  There was no mistaken in 
it.  Legolas’s beautiful blue eyes were filled with love.  
 
// But how?  When?  Why?  Did he somehow know what I was 
feeling for him?  How did he know?  I never showed them.  
Never. //  
 
The Prince became confuse and uncertain when he saw the 
frown from the object of his love.  
 
The Lord of Imladris opened his mouth to say something but 
nothing came out.  He was dumbstruck.  He was also 
confused.  
 
“I will not force you Lord Elrond.  I will understand if 
you turn me down, for the consequences is a heavy burden to 
bear if one fails in this marriage.  Just tell me and I 
will choose again.”  
 
“But …. why Legolas?  W…why me?” stammered the half elven 
lord.  
 
“I chose you because I have noticed the genuine concern and 
worries you showed while I was sick.  You have taken care 
of me with tenderness and without prejudice.  I was 
confused with your behaviour while in Rivendell but last 
night, it hit me.  I heard your voice calling me back from 
the Halls of Mandos.  You told me that you love me.”  A 
tear trickled down his cheek.  
 
The chamber turned deathly silent.  No one could utter a 
word after the shock.  It was maddening.  
 
For the first time in centuries, Elrond blushed.  He felt 
his face turned so hot that he thought he was on fire.  
Memories poured in – the day he first met the young elf, 
his sleepless nights worrying over the injuries, his fear 
when Glorfindel brought him into the healing room, the 
whispers of affections to calm and soothe his nightmares, 
spoon feeding him when he was helpless, the caress, 
secretly telling Aragorn to give him clothes to wear and 
how his heart almost broke seeing Legolas, his Legolas 
wasting away and probably never seeing him again.  
 
Finally, Elrond’s feature softened.  “Yes, I did,” he 
whispered, causing others to gasp.  
 
King Thranduil was furious.  “You….!”  
 
“Are you sure, Legolas, you want to choose me?”  Elrond 
ignored the King’s wrath.  The Prince nodded.  
 
Aragorn felt his heart smashed into millions of pieces.  He 
tried not to cry and barely succeeded.  Legolas had been 
right again.  He had never treated the young Prince as an 
individual but being blindly possessive over something that 
was not his to own.  Now he will suffer for his own 
foolishness.  
 
Thranduil looked at his son, surprised.  However his anger 
subsided as it finally dawned on him that he would rather 
see his son alive than dying of grief.  
 
Lord Elrond turned to look at his twin sons.  He was afraid 
that they would protest but was shocked and relieved at the 
same time when they nodded their consent.  He smiled, 
appreciating their understanding.  
 
The twins did not need their father to say anything for 
they could see it in his face and eyes, what he wanted.  
They too realised that their father was truly in love with 
Legolas.  It was the right thing to do for their father had 
sacrificed so much for them.  
 
“Then I agree to be bind to you Legolas Greenleaf of 
Mirkwood.”  
 
Legolas let go of his breathe that he did not realised had 
been holding for so long that his lungs burned.  He smiled 
sweetly, something he had not done for ages.  
 
“Good.  That is settled then,” announced Lord Celeborn.  He 
was not prepared for this turn of event but was glad that 
it was over.  
 
“Very well Legolas.  I will accept your decision.  However, 
you are still a child, still my little Greenleaf.  You will 
come home with me to Mirkwood.  We will wait until you have 
initiated your coming of age.  Only then will Elrond and I 
discuss about your marriage,”  
 
“All right, father,” whispered the little Greenleaf shyly.  
 
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  
 
“Did you really mean what you said to me when I was at the 
Halls of Mandos?” said Legolas softly.  His head was 
resting against Lord Elrond’s chest who sat propped against 
the headboard of the bed.  
 
“Yes, every word of it,” answered Elrond as one hand ran 
through the golden tresses and the other hooked around the 
slender waist.  
 
“I love you, Elrond,” whispered Legolas as he reached up to 
kiss tenderly on the elven lord’s lips.  
 
The kiss was returned gently but soon became more 
demanding.  A tongue licked tentatively around the mouth, 
seeking approval to enter.  When it opened to receive him, 
Elrond swept his tongue inside passionately but not 
forcefully.  
 
“I love you too, my little Greenleaf,” murmured Elrond with 
eyes half closed.  
 
“Saes, Elrond……..make love to me,” Legolas’s voice was 
barely audible from his panting of desire.  
 
“Nay, my love.  I will not have your father put my head on 
his platter,” breathed Elrond heavily.  
 
“Saes, saes, my love.  I will not see you for quite 
sometime.  Saes, give me a beautiful memory to remember 
whenever I think of you,” Legolas was begging, eyes wide 
with sadness like a loss puppy.  
 
Elrond was so tempted to take Legolas immediately.  He 
could feel his own member straining for release from the 
tight breeches.  And those eyes, pleading so pitifully.  
How could he refuse him?  
 
The elven lord maneuvered the Prince and gently pushed him 
back onto the bed.  Then he started planting little kisses 
all over the face, lingering longer on the soft parted 
lips.  
 
“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable or if you want me to 
stop,” said Elrond.  Legolas nodded quickly, his mind was 
no longer there.  
 
Returning to his task, he rubbed his hand over the front of 
his tunic, feeling the heavy breathing from his chest.  
Slowly, he peeled the tunic away, followed by the shirt, 
leaving the young elf half naked.  He rubbed his hand over 
the bare chest this time, noticing how smooth and delicate 
the skin felt in his palm.  
 
Bending down, he kissed the heaving chest and then licked 
and nibbled the nipples until he heard the Prince called 
out incoherently.  The moan did not stop as he continued 
licking around the collarbone up to his neck and then down 
the centre, circling round and round the navel.  
 
Legolas let out a groan of frustration when Elrond sat up 
to take off his clothes.  However, the moan of desire 
returned when his love kissed him deeply.  
 
“May I kiss and lick your ears, Legolas?”  Again, he only 
received nods.  The Prince eyes were closed as he enjoyed 
every sensation that Elrond bestowed him.  
 
However, Legolas tensed and his eyes fluttered open when he 
felt the familiar sensation coming from the tip of his 
sensitive ears.  Elrond felt the changes and stopped.  He 
shifted down slightly so that the Prince could see his face 
and recognise him.  When he felt the muscles relax again, 
he continued to shower attention on them.  
 
“Saes, Elrond,” panted Legolas.  “Don’t torture me 
anymore.  Let me come.”  
 
The Lord of Rivendell smiled at the impatience of his young 
love.  “Ssshhh….my sweet.  I have not even begun yet, how 
can I torture you?”  
 
The Prince’s eyes opened and looked at him, lips slightly 
pouted.  The sight made Elrond laughed.  “May I take off 
your breeches now?”  
 
“Yes,” cried Legolas, a smile returning to his flushed 
face.  
 
Within seconds the breeches was toss aside as well as 
Elrond’s.  Now they lay naked with Elrond on top.  The 
older elf started planting kisses again from the forehead 
down to the member that begged to be put out of its 
misery.  Elrond engulfed the rod slowly, his eyes watching 
his love’s reaction.  He stopped when he felt the same 
tenseness returning and continued when it was over.  
 
Legolas was moaning loudly, his body writhing with desire 
and soon came spurting the hot jets into the raven-haired 
elf’s mouth.  Elrond swallowed every drop of it savoring 
the salty taste.  Then he sidled up to his love who was 
gasping for air and kissed him deeply.  
 
Now his body needed to be relieved too.  He took Legolas’s 
hand and wrapped them around his shaft.  With his hand 
covering the smaller one, he moved them together, drawing 
pleasure that sent it jolting through his whole body.  
However, he was briefly disappointed when the Prince took 
his hand away.  He looked down and thought that the young 
elf was reminded of something bad until he started moaning 
again.  
 
The Prince of Mirkwood was taking Elrond’s huge member into 
his mouth, simulating what he had done for him earlier.  
The little elf had learned very quickly, as his 
ministration caused Elrond to curl his toes with delight.  
Soon he too came, releasing his sperm into his love’s 
mouth.  
 
The young elf lapped it up and swallowed it.  Suddenly he 
made a face that made Elrond laughed till tears rolled off 
his cheeks.  
 
“You will get used to it, love,” he chortled some more.  
 
That night Legolas slept with Elrond’s arms wrapped tightly 
around him, refusing to let him go.  
 
THE END  
 
* ~*~ * ~*~ * ~*~ * ~*~ * ~*~ *  
 
Well I’ve finally finished the story.  It’s already 5 AM 
and I am dead tired and sleepy.  I hope you’ve all enjoyed 
my story.  For those of you who do, my salute.  For those 
who don’t I’m sorry but we can’t please everyone.  Please 
remember this is purely fictional and only for fun.  This 
is fanfiction, not everything is supposed to be accurate.  
Contents can be created and changed but it’s the writing 
skills that make the story great.  
 
Oh yes, you might be wondering why I chose Elrond instead 
of Aragorn.  Well, I’m sick of Aragorn to the rescue.  
Also, l write the story.  I direct them.  Hehehe….. Lastly, 
I like the calmness and demure of Elrond.  Seriously, if 
you read the story carefully, you will notice that I have 
placed subtle hints of Elrond’s feelings for Legolas.  
 
Well people, until next time, ciao!………Red