Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Three years

Earth. 2006.

Three years later.

'And it's your face I'm looking for, on every street...'

Dire Straits

Frances turned the mp3 off, sending the blasted machine away. How fucked-up she was, incapable of listening to 'Every street' without throwing a fit, or 'brothers in arms' without crying all the tears in the world! All of it was true, though. On every street, she searched for Legolas' face. Here, or there, anywhere, everywhere.

Every time she saw a child, she wondered what hers and Legolas would have looked like. Every time she saw a guy with long hair, she thought about him, every blond head sent her a reminder of his silky locks, every sunset and sunrise she sent him her thoughts, wishing he would be there, every damp evening stuck in front of the TV she longed to cuddle by his side, every new thing or old habit she wanted to share with him. Every all, everything.

From small things to big ones, from insignificant events to life changing ones. All of them, every single second of her life.

Three years had passed, three very long years. Frances had moved to the north east of France to attend a new engineering school that could get her a job in many companies around the world. Had she fled Lyon to forget? Yes, actually. After a year and a half in Cécile's apartment, Frances had needed the break. Her depression had put a strain on their relationship, and she didn't quite know where she stood regarding her cousin. She had lashed out too much, too often, and hurt her best friend ever.

Guilt only added some more weight upon her shoulders, and the young woman hoped that leaving would do the trick. So she had packed her things, and moved a four hours' drive from her home, attending a school that, on paper, seemed to contain enough interesting subjects to feed her geeky brain. The main focus was Geology. In reality, she found the school even worse than her former one, it lacked a sense of justice, a duty. It was just fun, copy your neighbour's sheets, get drunk to death and use low-grade humour. Frances hated it almost as much as she hated the people in it!

Needless to say, that she had not made many friends. Unbeknownst to her, her comrades called her the 'Ice Queen'. Was it her cold demeanour, or the way she stood, tall and proud? Was it because she never participated in their festivities, or because the only moment she let her control go was on the ice rink?

Maybe they were right, maybe she did not feel anything anymore in her frozen heart. A few guys attempted to approach her; they were dismissed gently by her indifferent attitude, but without mercy. There was no place for anyone in her heart, for she could not forget Legolas. No matter how hard she tried, Frances could not let him go. And relentlessly, she searched for him on other planets.

She flew to Colorado every summer to continue her internship, spending hours upon hours in Dr Jackson's books in hopes of finding lores about Arda ... and pinpoint its location in the universe. Every break was spent buried in artifacts and research for Stargate Command. Every spare moment she reached for their bond, so distant that it was nothing more than a slight light in the rush of her life. But no matter how strongly she prayed the Valar, the necklace never took her back to him.

So far, neither Frances, nor Mulder had found anything related to middle earth. No matter how infuriating it was, it held some sense: there had been no reference whatsoever in Elrond's library about a travelling circle – stargate. How likely was it that such an advanced device existed on Arda and the elves knew nothing about it?

But Frances could not give up, the Stargate program was her only hope now. Since the Valar did not see fit to send her back to Legolas, she had to find a way. In the meantime, Frances meditated often, trying to convey through their tiny remnant of link the hope that she could, one day, come back to him. She didn't know if he heard, or felt her. She just fervently hoped that he did.

Aikido class, the next day.

Frances swung, ducked, and landed a harsh blow that elicited a cry from her opponent.

"Ow!" cried William. "You cheated again!"

The young lady grimaced, and held her hand out. William, a school comrade, had suggested she could join his Aikido club to vent off some of her 'energy'. A subtle way for him – the guy was smart – to not utter the word 'frustration' without being pummeled. Aikido classes, with its philosophy and meditating approach, helped her concentrate. But when they used the bokken - the wooden sword - she could not prevent but revert back to her training.

Her Rivendell swordmaster had done a great job, as she kept using moves that did not follow Aikido's rules. She would have loved a good sparring session, but Glorfindel's sword she missed the most. The way the handle moulded in her hand, how its balance perfectly suited her, how the blade swished when she slashed ! True, Teal'c training with the staff had improved her coordination by much. But it didn't replace a sparring session with Aragorn, nor Legolas, nor the twins, nor the beloved sword that had saved her life countless times.

For the moment though, this Aikido class was good enough. Sheathing the bokken at her side, she saluted William again.

"You turn to attack."

A smirk quirked her lips when he prepared his move; William was so previsible, he'd never survive any kind of battle. But he was a friend, and didn't ask questions.

Later that night, Frances indulged in a long shower. As she stepped out, she took a moment to watch her reflection in the mirror. Her body was still toned, but plumper than it used to be. Chocolate addiction had coated her with a little padding on her hips and breasts, and addition that she could live with. She'd just renewed the henna, and her hair shone vibrantly red. Quite a stupid habit, to renew the vegetal colouring every now and then, but she didn't want her hair to lose its signature. What if she travelled again, and Legolas did not recognise her ? Would he love her still if her hair was more brownish ?

Frances scoffed, what a stupid notion ! After three long years of waiting, her hopes had dimmed to almost nothing. The young woman turned to the traitorous necklace with a sneer, wondering why in hell she was still wearing the jewel every day, only to gasp. The towel fell to the floor in heap.

The necklace was calling !

Fifteen chapters to the end folks ! We're nearly there.