Irene sat by the shores of her beachfront home. She loved the view of the water at sun set, as it was a great inspiration for her sketching. She normally was a journalist, but along with her job, her other passion was art. She was quite a piece of art herself. She had deep crimson red hair, and silver-gray eyes and peach skin with a few small freckles across her nose that were almost unnoticeable. As beautiful as she was, she had one flaw that kept her from falling in love or having friends. That flaw was her speech. Her voice was clear and gentle as still water in a pond, but she had a hard time being able to make sense when she spoke. It was not stuttering, but pauses as if she was always unable to make of any situation or words occasionally being slurred. People were usually sensitive towards her verbal state, but would get frustrated at not always being able to understand her. It caused her pain to not be able to communicate with others, but she got used to the solitude, and began to prefer it to the companionship of others.

She pulled out her sketchbook and began to slowly draw the oceans with her colored pencils and gradually transforming the blank sheet into the soft waves turning from a blue shade to a more orange, until it was a deep red. Irene was halfway finished with her project, when she heard something differ from the repeating melody of the smooth rhythm of the ocean. It sounded like a large object washed ashore a few yards yonder from where she sat. It irked her to have the feeling of finding out, as it was probably nothing out of the ordinary. After having debated the situation, she finally went towards where she heard the sound.

Irene went as fast as her platform boots would take her. Her bell bottomed denim jeans wiping in the wind. She felt her pumping arms rub against her black sleeveless mandarin collar tank top. This was not her running outfit of choice. She saw a lump washed in the sands of the dying day. It was hard to see what it was. She neared the figure, and to her astonishment, it was human. She feared it dead, and was about to scream for help (which would not have helped, as she was several miles from the nearest neighbor), when she heard a pained grunt. She had no idea what to do, so she stood there, determining what to make of this. She saw it try to get up, but was too hurt to. She finally approached it. "Let me help you." She said slowly, so her phrase made sense and wasn't impaired like normal. She pulled one of its arms over her shoulder and lifted it up with surprising force. She helped him up (she knew it was a man by the form of him as she lifted him up.) and carried him along to her home.

She entered her dark house and laid him down on her couch. She had a terrible feeling about this, having a larger, stronger, and unknown male in her home, but he was too weary to even speak, so he was not yet a threat to her. Besides, no better a plan had yet come to her, as it was well past nightfall when she arrived. She turned on a light and gasped at the man of whom she had brought in, for he was no man at all, but an elf.

"How can this be? There is no such thing as elves!" She said to herself. Maybe she was dreaming? Irene none the less wrapped a blanket around him and went to her room. "This will all be over when I awake." She thought. Irene drifted into a deep slumber that night.

The next morning Irene awoke and made her bed, took a shower and got dressed. She was on her way to her kitchen to make her coffee, when she passed through the living room. They're still laid the elf from the night before. "So I wasn't dreaming." She thought. Now she really had no idea what to do. He stirred and then awoke.

He was most surprised to be where he was. The items and surroundings were most foreign. He scanned the room and laid eyes on a female human. He was taken aback by her beauty for a moment, then quickly inquired. "Where am I?" Irene hardly found the words to speak. "You.......are.......in Earth, North America, Hawaii.......you don't know any of those..........do you?" She stammered. She was most odd to him in the way she spoke. "No, none of those are familiar to me. Tell me, what it your name?" "I...Irene." She lowered her head, ashamed at her disability to speak. "My name is Legolas, and I ma in your debt for saving my life." He said. Irene nodded. "Your......welcome." He stood, towering a good five inches above her. "Now, can you tell me how I came to be in this odd place?" Irene nodded. "I....can try." She said. "Come......my kitchen is this way." She motioned for him to follow.

She slowly explained everything that had happened. She thought she was going mad. How could a fictional character from a story be sitting here in her home? It was unbelievable, but it was happening.

"This is a beautiful, but strange land." He said, gazing at the tropical forest out the window. He was still sore and weary. Irene decided to give him simple foods, as he was most likely unused to the food that was modern to her. She gave him bread and butter, and even an apple, which he gratefully ate. After he was done, she decided to ask a few questions. "Now, How did you come across where I found you?" she asked, surprised that she had no trouble speaking that time. He told her all that had happened. "It is odd that you know so much about my world." He stated, surprised that she knew what he was talking about. "The fellowship's tale is a story here, and very popular at that." She said, this time with a few pauses at her words. They compared the tales and actually learned things from each version, sometimes he would correct her and give her information on the real event, and sometimes enjoyed her version better that the reality.

The rest of the day was spent talking about one another's worlds. Both equally fascinated by anything the other had to say. Irene was glad she had this time, as it was Saturday, and she did not have to go into work. When dusk finally arrived again, they had both become good friends.

They sat on the shore, watching the sun go down. After a few minutes, Legolas spoke up. "Why do you have difficulty talking sometimes, begging your pardon of course." Irene did not mind the question, as she was used to it. "My mind goes faster than my words, and I end up saying things that sound unusual, or slurred." She explained. Legolas nodded. "Well, you haven't had that problem since noon." Irene was surprised to realize he was right.

When the sun finally went down, they headed back to Irene's small house. As she was on her way, after setting him up for the night, he called after her. "Irene, I should most like to see more of your world tomorrow." He smiled, causing her to do the same. "I will have to think of a way to make you not stand out so much tomorrow. But now I must go to bed. Good night." And she retreated to her bedroom.