Hello all!

I am anxiously awaiting feedback.

Claire is in for quite a journey, and I am in for quite the escape!

xXx

Oh, that's easy. Just one week. Yeah, I can just have Nick assume I've been drowned, or pirates have come along and snatched me up for their devious means, and expect my baby, my business to be ran by a grief-addled researcher. Not to mention, I have another meeting with another potential client in Utah in three days!

Obviously, she would not care. Let me see how I can play this..

"My lady, thank you for making the appointment with His Majesty on my behalf," I smile,"I believe my memory is recovering slightly, just by your conversation. I have a wealthy and noble family I think — is there some way I can reach out to them using my voice over a great distance?" In other words, can I have my phone back please? I call da bling bling for yu.

"I'm afraid not at this time. Those incantations are far too exacting to be used unless with great need. Lady Moore, I would recommend getting more rest, we've only just made your acquaintance and although we may be great recuperators, a wound is a wound."

"I understand, Priestess.. Can I have some food, if it pleases thee?"

That's more or less how the week went — me trying to escape the perimeter by using my words (my Dad would be so proud), or late in the night when my words weren't working, I'd use the small dagger I made and add to my collection of possible lock-picking repertoire. I say possible, because that was also unsuccessful.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say this door was enchanted.

Based on the conversations I have had with the Priestess, and forced conversations with the helping staff.. I just KNOW that this is not just one man working alone. I must have stumbled into a community full of people who honestly think they are Elves.

It doesn't even really matter what I think. The only way I can make progress with these people is, as with any people, acknowledging and granting beingness to their RIGHTness, at least for starters, until I can gain enough ground to appeal to their rightness that I don't belong. I should stick to the truth as much as I can, and be myself. My winning personality will do just the trick!

xXx

I assumed it was time to meet with the King, because the Priestess and her guard, followed by three other willowy models, came in with a small washing basin, luxurious robes to don, and a small hand-held mirror.

"Hello," I said serenely. "It's that time already, is it?"

"Yes, Lady Moore. Now we are going to make you presentable for your audience with King Oropher."

"Alright, dear, first thing is with these clothes you are currently wearing. We must remove them and give you a bathing," said one of the three serving women.

"You know, I am quite shy. If you don't mind I can actually give myself a good wash down," I appealed.

The guard and the Priestess had just left.

"My lady, we insist."

And the rest is, shall we say, history? I am sooooo going to the press with this behavior. They wouldn't even let me wash myself and I had to strip for three women! I can just imagine the response.

When I was dressed, I was presented with the small hand-held mirror to gaze upon my countenance. (Haha, even my inside voice is changing here)

I had suspected that I was suffering from some sort of mental illness, this last week because I had noticed a few differences in physique than what I was used to. Those tiny glimpses did not prepare me for what I beheld.

Looking, the first thing I noticed was a SHOCK of almost white straight SHOCKING hair that fell down past my waist. It had always been up, secured in place by the bandage… I could wave that off as a bottle of Clairol and hair treatments, but it didn't stop there.

I KNOW that no one gave me surgery while I was here the last week, and unless I had been here for months in some induced coma, there's NO WAY someone resculpted my face without me even feeling it, or the remnants of it!

My eyes were the same. A piercing blue. My skin was lighter, fairer, with no imperfections now. I had cheekbones, that's one thing I noticed but waved off as nonsense earlier this week.. I had lost some weight, or it had been redistributed. I had never had any bubbies, but I have now more than just the mosquito bites I had before as chairman of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee!

All in all, I could no longer deny the large changes in my appearance. I was taller, lithely, willowy, graceful looking. Now I was wearing a very light shade of blue gown, that complimented said eyes. Atop my head was a beautiful circlet with just a single pearl tear resting on my forehead.

"Wow." Was all I said, while I felt like I had ants crawling in my skin in droves. A Hummingbird in my head. Voices, blurring in my head.

Whatever this was, I think.. I'm in a different reality.

xXx

I was eventually handed over to some guards and we traversed the cave. Up and up, and up we went through wheel-chair accessible tunnels, then steps. I kept my head looking straight while I did my best to bring all my attention to the present. Ornate Yellow lights marking our way down the corridor. A Rooty, yellow-green atmosphere which would not have been great for my other visage, but it's hard to say that it damaged my current one. Probably if I smiled, my teeth would shine bright, in this very new she elf body thing.

I was lead into a large cavernous throne room. I took in my surroundings quickly — there were far too many holes in the wall as passageways for me to make any guess as to which one leads to the exit. Then I took in (I just want to say Tolkien instead of took in) the people present, and there were about thirty. Thirty beautiful models and hunky muscled well-carried men, who didn't look like they were just underwear models.

The King (Oropher I presumed) sat in a large ornate chair that instead of the Iron Throne was more like the Root Throne, but blooming with small buds.

"Claire Moore, of unknown origins, my King," one guard pronounced to the room and bowed, then turned to leave.

I was all alone on the stage it seemed… I did my best curtsy and someone snickered behind me, then I just stood straight, smiled and laced my fingers behind my back.

"Lady Moore, welcome to my Court. We aren't in the habit of accepting visitors, except you appear to be an exception. Found within my own walls, in the Tombs of Legends, and looking as pureblood as Sindarin can be, with a mortal name. Tell me, how is it you came to be in such a state, with mine own grand father's hand resting on your head?"

Legends, Elves, Courts, Kings.. I am going to make a gamble right now and just assume that perhaps they can deal with my standard of unordinary.

"Your Highness, it is hard for me to say, honestly. I feel I am from another place, another time.. Surely, with the endless catacombs I have seen here, you keep the area secure with guards. I can honestly say, they are all most likely most excellent at their jobs.. Someone would have noticed me one way or another. I awoke in the cavern with no great ease and disoriented, and thought that your Grandfather's hand was some kind of vermin that landed on my head. I believe I lost consciousness at that point."

The courtiers behind and around me suppressed their laughter as best as they could.

King Oropher was as stern as ever. Impeccable presence.

"Silence in the court." He paused. "Well then, head injury aside, just know this: we do not accept outsiders. And we do NOT allow any to leave. Should you try to escape, you will be disciplined by way of cell and pending execution."

"I understand, your Majesty." I said solemnly.

"For the mean time, we will keep you in your cell until I hear back on my letters regarding your possible true identity —"

"Wait, Father." The King looked to his right at his son, annoyance written on his face.

"Yes, Thranduil?"

"Lady Daerel would be glad of the assistance another pair of hands could bring her. We have no one else in the cells at this time, we could free up the guards there for our patrols."

The King claps his hands together.

"Marvelous! Daerel?"

I hear an answering call and shuffle of skirts heading to this great stage, but my eyes are darting between the men sitting in the thrones. The center one, Oropher, I have never seen before.. But Thranduil.. THE Thranduil? I saw him on IMAX, last. and to the far left, a young Legolas who looks just as he was on the IMAX as well.

I remember seeing that movie thrice, I loved it so! As I had seen all the other movies, read the books when I was a child. In the movie — they were parting and clearly not on good terms. But, here they share the same room.. So this could either be before or after, significantly, that tale. But, I can't believe everything in the movies — Legolas wasn't even in the Hobbit, only the Elven King.. Who was Thranduil…

Ah! So, welllllll before the events that I know and love, grew up with.

I feel dreamy, but apparently I was dismissed already, as I was taken by the elbow by none other than I assumed Daerel, and gently led away from the stage and peanut gallery.