Reality of Fiction

~Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand~

Chapter One ~The Mystery~

Disclaimer- I do not own Lord of the Rings nor Tolkien's character, I only own my own.

When a person hears the word 'mental institution' the first thing that would pop into their minds would be a madhouse. A place where patients are treated like prisoners, clad in nothing but white, feet bare and chained. Their doors made of iron bars, muscular nurse that probe the patient's skin with giant needles, and doctors who are equally or more insane than that of the mentally unstable.

I for one, do not believe that utter nonsense

Of course I would say this being one of those doctors who work in the nuthouse that many would call mad. Yes, I am a psychiatrist and am perfectly sane, and I work to help those who are not. In the psychiatric unit that I work in yes, patients are dressed in white, but no, the patients are not chained, their doors are NOT made of iron bars; I believe they are made of oak, the food unappealing it might be at times but not at all close to any expiration dates, the nurses do not chase after patients with overly exaggerated long needles and the doctors treat the patients as what any doctor should treat any patient.

I've worked with unstable patients but to those that believed that utter crap, should be the ones in care, I do not understand how you would actually believe something that preposterous. There is always a scientific or reasonable explanation for everything that happens in the human society, this is why I had become a psychiatrist. All my patient's illnesses have a reason to them; a simple explanation with a simple solution. I've always believed in this. That is...till I met him.

It was two hours before midnight and by this time I had said my farewell to my last patient for the night, giving her last-minute advises and kindly showing her out the door where two men clad in white took her by each arm and led her down carefully the brightly lit white hallway. I had let out a sigh when I plopped onto my chair and rested my legs on my desk; my hand went to reach for my glasses and clean them out of habit then placed them back on. I was exhausted, not because of my patients. No, I have talked, calculated, and analyzed the very way all of my patients lived their lives here in St. Mary's psychiatric unit for the past six years. Talking to people all day was what I studied to do, and if I didn't then I would be a very good physiatrist now would I?

No, what exhausted me was not the people I had talked to today, it was the person I did not talk to today. The same person I have not heard speak before, neither seen before, nor known of until his arrival two nights ago. But I have heard of him, oh a little too much I believe. His very own presence filled everyone's minds with mystery, including my very own intellectual one. There have been rumors that had spread of him by those little whom have seen him in person.

Though as a woman of knowledge I would never be caught dead to believe in rumors, they are not factual at all and in the very least acceptable in my standards. But I will admit they are...alluring

Claire, a pleasant plump woman who managed all patients files had told me the man showed no signs; physically, to be mental challenged or in need of help. By her description, he carried himself through the halls as a king would walk through his halls to sit on his throne. He answered questions with not a stutter nor a stumble of words, his eyes did not stray from object to person to object nor did he twist whilst he sat to talk with the chairman of the hospital. From everything I have heard, he sounded completely sane. And yet he was not.

He was admitted into the hospital the following day and thus rumors spread like fire in a forest. And all this talk around him made him mysterious, and I wanted to be the one to solve him. To solve his mystery. But as of now, no physiatrist has been appointed to him. Why? Why hasn't the chairman assigned someone to him already and relieve me of this anxiety that perhaps I had a chance of being the one appointed.

I did not understand, and because of it I am exhausted.

"Kim!" a singsong voice emitted from my door

and without waiting for my reply the door swung open. In entered a man two years older than me; thirty-five, with a charming smile plastered on his smug face. An average built with disheveled dark brown hair a top of his head, eyes a warm color of brown that slightly squinted, and a handsome stubble that framed his strong cheekbones and sharp chin. He was dressed warmly, with oversized gloves, trench coat and boots that stomped their way towards my desk.

"Track snow on my carpet again Ryan and I will make sure you leave this room in a wheelchair" I warned while I messaged my temples

He let out a hearty laugh and placed a hand on my desk to stable himself on, "No worries Kimmy dear I won't, I was about to go home but I just wanted to see how you are doing?"

Ryan knew about the headaches the new patient has been giving me as he is the only one I told. I sighed heavily and took my legs off the table with a tired chuckle.

"With the snow, the new intern that messed up everything today, and that patient, I think I'm holding up just fine thanks Ryan," I answered, "so has Daniel assigned-"

"None to my knowledge" he answered before I could finish asking.

"Figures" I groaned and slumped into my chair

"I still don't understand why you want to be assigned to him, but I'm sure you'll have your chance" he reassured me

"I don't even know myself...I want to be assigned to him because he's..." I let a hmm of frustration.

"Tall, dark, and mysterious?" he suggested

I raised an eyebrow and sighed again, "different" I included.

"Well as far as I've heard, he sure sounds different. Apparently his ears are pointed, Madison thinks he had it surgically done but the patients believe its real and now they're muttering nonsense of him being some supreme being and so on" he said with an amused tone, "it was bothersome to get them to calm back down though"

"Pointed ears?" I muttered absentmindedly to which Ryan sighed

"And long hair too"

"Really?" I said intrigued of this new information about him.

Ryan pushed himself off my desk and raked his gloved hand through his hair,

"Any who I've got to get going Kim it's getting late, don't push yourself so hard tonight. Take a break," he said

I snapped back to reality and nodded and he moved to leave through the door. I sighed and sunk lower into my chair, watching the car lights dance on my walls as they passed by.

That thought of the patient still plagued my every thought when I willed myself to finish my file reports for an hour and a half and with a frustrated growl I stood up, reaching into my white coat pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarette. Pulling off my winter coat from my chair I headed out for a smoke. A pack of nicotine from time to time wouldn't hurt, it will kill yes, but I'm only after it's short-term effects to make me calm down. I've been told too many times that smoking was my worst habit and that I should stop, and of course I would stop but not just now.

I headed down the halls with the sound of my heels on the floor as my only means of company. I slid out a roll and placed it between my teeth, dropped the pack into my coat and dug for my lighter in my pant pockets. After a few minutes I reached a large metal door that led to the back of the hospital, pausing and with the lighter at one hand I skillfully buttoned my jacket up with the other and prepared for the worst winter winds to hit me when I opened the door.

As predicted the cold winds were strong and my nose began to burn at the touch of it. My shoulder cringed and shivered as my arms wrapped around my chest then made my way to a little corner that the wind would not bother so much. Creeping up into the corner I brought the lighter up to the cigarette and attempted to light it up. I knew it was foolish to try to light it up when the winds passed my faster than I could run but with the hospital being updated with highly-sensitive smoke detectors I could not take the chance of lighting it up inside. But with each attempt of trying to light it the winds played the cruel game of blowing it away.

"Oh Gods" I hissed

All I just wanted way to relax, and ease my mind of its tension and rid it of any thought of the patient but as of now my patience was growing thin.

"Bloody weather is going to be the death of me" I muttered coldly to myself and in one final attempt tried to light the lighter but failed.

"It is not the weather that will kill you, But that of what you smoke will"

Shivers passed through my entire body neither because of the wind nor the snow; it was the voice. It was deep yet musical at the same time, and there was the aura of danger within the voice as well that had led to my shivering state. Quickly I spun around, eyes widening trying to see who was there through my fogging up glasses.

"Who's there?" I called out

"Peace mellon, I mean no harm"

A figure appeared out of nowhere. I was chest-high next to the tall figure, with broad shoulders. I could see dark hair fluttering from behind and his clothes white as the snow its self. Wait- white clothes? Those are patients garbs, they were thin sheets of cloth yet the man stood as if unaffected by the harsh I finally gathered up the nerve to stare straight up to his face I could not stop the gasp that escaped me.

Grey eyes watched me like the eyes of a hawk on a mouse, yet they were not the cause of my lost of breathe. Sitting on either sides of his face were pointed ears, so unnatural and at the same time they looked as if they belong on him. It was then did I realize.

It was him.