Chapter Fourteen
Ayla felt lost and confused, her mind scrambling to catch up. What happened? Where was she? Where was…she took in her surroundings, slowly moving her head. Her neck was incredibly stiff and her head was throbbing. She noticed that she was alone.
Had she been alone this whole time?
Where was the face she saw in her dreams?
Was that even real?
Had it all just a dream?
Tears stung her eyes as her heart began to sink as she realized that he wasn't here. He might never come. He might not be real. She slowly sat up, her muscles in her back sore and her ribs were on fire like they were broken. She gave up trying to move as she looked around her room. It was definitely one of the suites reserved for patients willing to pay extra (which she was not willing, must be Pamela's doing), and she recalled someone sitting at her side as the chair was still placed next to her bed. She reached over, wincing in pain at the reach as she touched the seat. It was still slightly warm, so someone had just been there before she woke up.
The image of the man flashed to the forefront of her mind. Was it Thranduil? Did he somehow make it over from Middle Earth, too? Was it too much to hope for that everything was real and not a dream?
Why was she in the hospital in the first place? What the hell happened? Ayla took a moment to feel her body out, she took notes that her back and ribs were in pain, her right wrist was in a brace (not a cast, thank goodness!), and her legs were still attached to her body and she can wiggle her toes. She laid back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything. She couldn't figure out what was real and what was her imagination. So far her current state felt real but the other place felt very real, too. She physically felt everything in the other place. Hunger, pain, desire. Everything!
But now she wasn't sure. She could only know if it was real if that mystery man came back. Will he come back? Was she just putting too much expectation that it was Thranduil who, against all odds, found a way to Seattle? Maybe it was too much to ask for but still! She deserved some kind of an explanation as to how she ended up in the hospital feeling like a truck just hit her. A truck…an image of a truck coming at her flashed to the forefront of her mind. That image was then replaced by his face, the desperation in his eyes as if willing her to stay. Ayla couldn't hold it back as a sob bubbled up her throat and hot tears sprung from her eyes. She covered her mouth with a hand, feeling her heart breaking under the weight of reality.
She wanted to go back.
Another week in the hospital for monitoring and then Ayla was free to go home. It had been nothing less than a miracle that after being hit head on by a truck on an icy hill in Seattle; Ayla not only survived but sustained no serious injuries aside from a few broken ribs, a fractured ulna, a concussion and many bruises. Pamela had made sure to be the one overseeing her care, despite the fact that her specialty was oncology, but she was also the Resident Director so no one bothered to question her motives of playing favorites. How she managed to get Ayla into the private suite was beyond her, but she wasn't going to complain until she saw her medical bill.
Once discharged Ayla was put on medical leave until she was fully recovered and given a clean bill of health. She had learned shortly after waking up that she had been in a coma for nearly two weeks, shocking Ayla and making her rethink that perhaps that was the cause of her very lucid dreams and the very thought depressed her. Pamela hooked her up with the good pain medications but instead of overdoing it Ayla didn't touch any of it, just letting it sit in her bathroom medicine cabinet and just stuck with plain Tylenol. Even the thought of drinking alcohol wasn't of any interest to her. She was just…not herself.
A part of her wished the truck had killed her.
One night she had stood in her bathroom, staring at the bottle of painkillers, contemplating on overdosing with a bottle of Jack Daniels that was sitting in her kitchen cabinet. Yet she hesitated. Some part of her was hoping.
Only three weeks since waking up from her coma and Ayla remained at home, feeling listless and depressed. Apparently it had all been a dream her mind conjured up during her comatose state. A dream that had felt so real. Who knew she had such a vivid and colorful imagination deep within her subconscious. It was like she was Dorothy who awoke from her dream of Oz, but instead of being able to compare the people in her life to the characters in her dream, Ayla seemed to have imagined people who never existed in her life. But she still had held out hope. While she was still in the hospital she waited for him, expecting to see him whenever the door opened, only to be disappointed when it was someone else.
It was time to move on.
She was back home in Seattle. Back where she belonged. Back to her old life of mortality, work, dodging phone calls from her mother, having lunch with Pamela, and everything else that had been lacking in that other world.
Yet…she found herself wishing to return, because what her reality lacked were the people she had imagined and grown fond of. Especially a certain annoying king. She felt so pathetic to be depressed over something so stupid. And staying at home on medical leave was driving her insane with boredom. The only time she left her apartment was to go to her physical therapy sessions, she didn't bother to go out and buy groceries as she simply ordered delivery to her door. Her inbox had been cleared out of all the junk that had been filling up and she had scrolled through all the missed messages that had been left by her mother, her half-siblings, and even her ex-husband. Greg must have gotten a new phone and sent her the message since she had blocked his old number.
She didn't bother listening to his message, deleting it the moment she recognized his voice and then proceeding to block his new number.
When she was still in the hospital her mother of all people had come to visit. It had been an uncomfortable visit since Ayla had nothing to say to the woman who apparently came to only ask if she was still going to Charlotte's wedding.
"I almost died and all you can think about is if I'll still make an appearance to her wedding? The wedding where she's marrying my ex-husband?" Ayla had asked, finding the question distasteful.
"I'm only asking because it's coming up. We weren't expecting you to wake up at all." her mother had said.
Ayla let out a hollow laugh before grimacing at the pain in her ribs. "I just don't understand why you insist on making my life miserable."
"I beg your pardon?" her mother asked, sounding insulted.
"What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?" Ayla asked, looking at her mother. The older woman stared back at her, her blonde hair freshly colored, her makeup heavy to hide her age, and her clothes were immaculate without a wrinkle.
"I don't hate you, Ayla. I never hated you. I only wanted the best for you but you were too willful and impulsive, you made it hard for me to love you. I thought it was because your father stole all of your affection from me but that had nothing to do with it. It was because you are just like your father and nothing like me that I grew to resent you."
"Then why did you insist that you raise me and not dad? Why put me through all that shit growing up?"
"I don't know why, I just felt that if your father wasn't around then maybe you and I would begin to bond but that never happened. Then I had the twins and all my attention was on them and before I knew it you had grown up and become a stranger to me. I don't know how to fix our relationship."
Ayla stared at the woman, keeping her face neutral. She recalled the night she had lost the baby and was alone in the hospital, calling her mother because she didn't know who else to call and the cruel words that had been spoken to her. "Then don't fix it."
Her mother looked startled by the harshness of Ayla's tone. "I've come to extend an olive branch, Ayla."
"No, you came to check if I was awake from my coma and the first thing that came out of your mouth was if I planned on going to that whore's wedding. Well don't worry, I'm not going. In fact, I'm never going to any more of your family events from here on out because I never want to see you and those horrible people ever again."
Her mother clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Ayla, don't be so dramatic."
"I'm serious. I never want to see you again." Ayla said resolutely. "Now please leave."
She watched as her mother pursed her rouged lips together and stood up, leaving her room. After a moment of silence in her room hot tears fell from Ayla's eyes as she cried softly. Whether it was from relief of grief she couldn't tell, all she knew was that she was at least free of one burden in her life.
A knock came at the door, pulling Ayla's focus back to the present. She ignored it but then the knocking came again, the sound more urgent. Whoever it was, they weren't leaving. Ayla rolled off the couch, her joints still stiff and aching. She shuffled towards the door, her body still recovering from the aches and bruises after being out of the hospital for a few weeks. When she looked through the peep-hole it had been blocked. Thinking it was Pamela she unlocked the door, expecting her best friend, NOT her half-sister Charlotte. In a poofy white wedding dress, no less. Her blonde hair was in a tangled mess of hair pins and stiff curls, and her mascara and eyeliner streaking down her cheeks from obvious crying. She looked a mess.
It gave Ayla a small spark of satisfaction.
"Oh what fresh hell is this?" Ayla groaned.
Charlotte threw herself at Ayla, hugging her shoulders and crying loudly while Ayla winced in pain. Wanting to avoid her neighbors from coming out she pulled the crying bride into her apartment, gathering the ridiculously long train of her wedding dress before shutting the door. The skirt of the gown was so wide and layered thickly that Ayla's entryway was just too small to fit both of them and she pushed Charlotte forward in order to be able to close the door. Charlotte sniffed and tried to wipe her eyes without smudging her already ruined makeup.
"Okay, I have to ask, what's with this dress? It's horrendous." Ayla said, leaning back against her island counter at the sniveling bride, her back getting that familiar prickling of pain.
"Greg—he cheated on me!" Charlotte sniffed, "I caught him screwing my maid of honor in our rented limo! Righbefothecerwahmownee!" she said through a shrill sob. Ayla didn't understand the last part but got the idea.
Rubbing the knuckle of her thumb across her forehead Ayla felt another spark of satisfaction. "Char, you do realize this is karma biting you in the ass, right?" That only made Charlotte's hysteric cries turn into a trill that made Ayla's ears feel like they were going to bleed. She did the only thing she could think of and slapped Charlotte across the face, silencing the hysterical bride. Plus slapping her made Ayla feel better. "Get your shit together!"
"I thought we were in love." Charlotte said, dropping to the floor and her gown, being so big and poofy, puffed up around her. She was practically drowning in chiffon and lace and frills.
"Okay, time out, I can't speak to you while you're dressed like that. It's too distracting." Ayla gave Charlotte a t-shirt and sweatpants to change into and let her clean up in her bathroom before sitting her down in her living room on the couch. Ayla winced as she lowered herself onto her couch and groaned when her body slowly relaxed into the cushions. "Start with why you thought coming to me was a good idea?"
"You were the only person I could go to. Mom would just tell me to ignore it and go on with the wedding. Daddy…he just does whatever mom says. And Jack…Jack hasn't spoken to mom or daddy since he ran off with that band of his." Charlotte sniffed.
"Again, why come to me? You were the breaking point for my divorce with the man that cheated on you today. On your wedding day. I should be the last person you'd want to go to."
"But we're the same."
"No, we're not."
"We were both cheated on by the same guy."
"Oh for fuck's sake." Ayla groaned, covering her face with her hands. Why couldn't she be left alone to wallow in her depression and Chinese takeout in peace?
"And then you were in the hospital! Mom said to pick out a black dress because you were gonna—gonna—diiiiie!" Charlotte wailed, her voice becoming shriller than Ayla thought possible as she rubbed her forehead.
"Oooh, sweet baby Jesus!" Ayla groaned before slapping her hand over Charlotte's mouth to muffle the sound. "Okay, Char, first—shut the fuck up. Second, do what I did and change the locks on your doors and toss all his shit out and then sell his precious car."
Charlotte hiccupped, "He made me sign a pre-nup after we got engaged." Charlotte said. Ayla blinked her eyes a few times.
"You dumb whore…" she sighed, "I suddenly can't do this sober." Ayla tried to get up but her body was just in too much pain. "Charlotte go grab two glasses and a bottle of vodka from the freezer. And also go into my bathroom and grab my pain killers from the medicine cabinet."
Charlotte went and grabbed the glasses and bottle and the orange bottles of pills and brought them back where Ayla quickly popped a pill in her mouth and opened the bottle and poured herself and Charlotte a glass of chilled vodka.
"Oh, I don't really drink…" Charlotte said.
"You want my support?" Ayla asked, getting a nod from her half-sister. "Then drink."
Charlotte drank a few sips before making a face that showed her inexperience. After half a bottle and four more pills later, they were laughing like they were old friends as they talked about Greg and all his faults.
"Oh my god! He bought another crystal duck?" Ayla asked.
"Yes! The exact same one you destroyed! As soon as we moved into the condo he bought that stupid duck. What is his obsession with ducks?" Charlotte asked.
"It's really stupid, actually; he graduated from the University of Oregon and claims it was gifted to him for graduating as valedictorian which, by the way, is a lie."
"He lied about that?"
"He cheats, Char, he's not above lying to your face. He even failed the exams for his medical license twice."
Charlotte leaned back against the cushions, "This was really nice. We've never been close and I feel terrible about that. And mom was seriously a total bitch to you."
Ayla snorted, "I thought it was just me who noticed."
"Jack hates mom, too." Charlotte said, "Remember that one year at Thanksgiving and Jack blew up the turkey?"
"Wait, he blew up the turkey? That was all his doing?"
Charlotte giggled, "He shoved it full of fire crackers and dressed it up in one of mom's dresses."
Ayla's jaw dropped, "I gotta give that fuck-up more credit. You said he's where again?"
Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. "Last time we spoke was over a month ago and I think he was in Detroit?"
"Is he still with that band?"
"Yeah…Y'know, Jack and I idolized you for always standing up to mom. She always came up with a lot of messed up things to make you feel excluded from the family. And when your dad died…I'm really sorry for what I did to you. You had every right to be so angry and I felt even worse about you losing your baby that same night you caught us."
Ayla did her best to block out the memory, not wanting to reopen an old scar. "So what are you gonna do now?" she asked, changing the subject.
"I'm practically homeless now; the pre-nup states that I only get ten percent of everything."
"What?" Ayla said.
"After you took everything in the divorce he convinced me that it was just for a safety backup plan."
"For him. You realize that he gets everything." Ayla sighed heavily, but then a thought occurred to her. "Hand me my phone." Charlotte grabbed Ayla's phone off the coffee table and handed it to her. Ayla then sent a text to Stacy.
"What are you doing?" Charlotte asked.
"Helping you swindle that asshole out of everything he has."
Charlotte let out a gleeful shriek as she lunged forward and hugged Ayla, making the older woman stiffen up as she bit back a painful yelp.
"Ah! I'm so sorry!" Charlotte said, suddenly panicked as she got off of Ayla.
"It's fine, just pour me another glass." Ayla said.
xxxxx
A week later Ayla sat with her sister Charlotte, who asked for her presence saying how she needed the emotional support while they sat down with Greg and their respective lawyers. Ayla had not seen her ex since their divorce and wondered what had she ever seen in him before? He aged well, and kept up with his personal care, but beyond that she didn't feel anything but disgust towards him.
Stacy, who was representing Charlotte, was efficient in negotiating the terms. She was able to void the pre-nup agreement as the marriage license had not been signed by both parties. It left the floor open for Stacy to swoop in and serve Greg new papers that stated in writing that Charlotte was now suing him for emotional damage and infidelity. Greg's lawyer didn't have a prayer for a countersuit that would stick considering his client had a record previously with Ayla. Stacy made quick work of Greg and his lawyer, and Charlotte walked away a free woman.
As Ayla and Charlotte were leaving the courthouse Greg called out to Ayla, jogging up to them both.
"Can we talk?" he asked, shooting a glance at Charlotte before looking back at Ayla. "Privately?"
"No." Ayla said, taking Charlotte's arm and moving her towards the exit. Greg reached out, grabbing Ayla by the elbow and pulled her back slightly. Ayla whipped around, yanking her arm from his grasp, anger flaring inside her at his nerve. "I have nothing more to say to you. Ever."
Greg looked taken aback but recovered quickly as he stood awkwardly in front of her, shifting his weight on his feet. "Then just listen; I'm sorry that I was a lousy husband to you." Ayla snorted. "I'm sorry that I hurt you the way I did."
Ayla stared at him, unaffected by his apology. She had a lot to say to him about how he made her feel when they were together, and how he had abandoned her and how he had made her so bitter. She had the chance to finally tell him all of it but she didn't because she was no longer angry. She had moved on. So she said nothing and just turned away from him wordlessly, walking out of the courthouse with her sister. Neither sister looked back at the man who hurt them.
"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked once they got in her car (Ayla didn't own a car).
"Yeah, I am." Ayla said, "Walking away felt more satisfying."
"I thought for sure you would punch him in the nose." Charlotte said.
Ayla let out a sigh. "No, with people like him, it's better to show them that they can't get under your skin anymore. He would have wanted me to hit him."
"You're a lot stronger than I am, if it was me he wanted to talk to I would have scratched his eyes out."
"No, doing nothing is more damaging." Ayla turned her head to look at her sister and gave her a gentle smile. "Plus now we're both free."
Charlotte smiled back, "Let's celebrate!"
"Sounds good to me. Let's get something to eat."
"What do you want?"
"Carbs. Let's go to Pagliacci, I want some good pizza."
Charlotte nodded, driving to their new location. Ayla thought it was irritating to see Charlotte agonizing over the menu but not so much as it once had. It felt strange to sit across from her in a restaurant, acting like it was a normal occurrence. Maybe it could become normal.
"I don't know what to get," Charlotte said, "There are so many choices."
"Are you still a vegetarian?" Ayla asked.
"I only became one because mom said meat will make me fat. Same with bread and pasta and cookies…"
"She's a piece of work."
"Agreed." Charlotte said, closing the menu. "I'm gonna order the Grand Salami Primo."
Ayla snorted, "All meat, sounds great. Let's throw in an order of pasta as well."
When their food arrived Ayla saw the look of bliss on Charlotte's face when she took her first bite of pizza.
"Mmm. So good!" Charlotte moaned, "I forgot how good pizza was."
Ayla took a bite of her own slice, enjoying the taste of salty meat, cheese, sauce and bread. The seasoning and spices just right. After finishing her first slice she reached for another and took a large, greedy bite. For the first time in what Ayla could guess was forever, she was having a good time with her sister. Then she saw a glimpse of someone from her past—no, not her past, her dream…but it was only just a glimpse. It was enough to give her pause as she looked again but didn't see them a second time. Was it her imagination?
xxxxx
Ayla laid on her side in bed, having finished the last session of physical therapy that morning. Her bruises had all faded away and her body no longer ached as badly as when she first woke up from the coma. Her life was slowly returning to normal.
Normal…
Lunches with Pamela, drinks with Becky, shopping with Stacy, late night emails from Amber from wherever the hell she was in the world, checking off the days until she can go back to work. Eating a pint of ice cream in front of the TV as she binge-watched shows and movies. Going to Lamaze classes with Pamela (while fighting back the memories of her failed pregnancies, real and dream ones); and occasionally seeing glimpses of faces from her dream whenever she went out. Making her feel as if she might be going crazy. Now incorporated into her life was having dinner with her half-sister Charlotte on Sundays. This was what Ayla wanted, right? To be home, back to her normal life before Middle Earth. But if this was what she wanted then why did she feel so empty inside? Maybe she had wished for the wrong thing.
She heard the familiar jingle coming from her phone, alerting her that Pamela was calling. She didn't feel like answering it but she needed to make an effort with her life and picked up the phone to her ear.
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to a charity function tonight and my date bailed on me last minute. Rude right? So find a nice evening dress for tonight. I'll be by at 7." Then she hung up, not giving Ayla the opportunity to decline or accept. Looking at the time on her phone, she saw that she only had an hour to get ready. Well, it's a good thing she showered that morning.
Dragging herself out of bed she went through her closet, looking for something to wear. Since it was starting to get warm as the season was gradually turning to a miserable rainy spring, maybe just a pair of nice slacks and a blouse will work. With her outfit set out on her bed she went to get herself ready by turning on her straightening iron and setting to work with her makeup while it heated up.
Jeez, it felt like forever since she applied makeup when in reality it wasn't really so long ago. She decided to just settle on keeping her makeup low-key and neutral and not even bother with the lash extensions or contouring her cheeks. By the time she had finished straightening her frizzy hair and applying the leave-in conditioner was when she heard her front door open and closed, followed by—"Traffic is ridiculous!"
"Did you drive?" Ayla asked dryly as she turned her straightening iron off and left her bathroom, meeting Pamela in the hallway and going into her room together.
"You know I don't bother." Pamela said, taking off her black trench coat and revealing a sexy cocktail dress that was as red as wine but the effect, unfortunately, was overshadowed by her swollen belly. "So, what are you wearing?" Ayla pointed to her bed where her slacks and blouse laid and Pamela gave her a dramatic gasp. "Did being in a coma break your brain?"
"Pam, I'm not interested in attracting men tonight. And should you really be wearing that when you're so close to popping?"
Pamela ignored her as she barged into Ayla's closet and immediately began her hunt for one of Ayla's many cocktail dresses that she hardly wore in the past five years. When her friend emerged with the satin emerald green dress Ayla immediately opened her mouth to protest. "This is a charity function hosted by some rich guy who comes from old money. Everyone dresses to impress and donate a ridiculous amount of money to a charity they don't even know anything about." Pamela said, "There will be good, top shelf alcohol, and fancy food that will later make you regret when you're head ends up in the toilet."
"You make it sound so enticing." Ayla said sarcastically, taking the dress and tossed it to the bed as she began to undress.
"If we're lucky we'll leave the function with some rich bachelor or someone who claims to not be married."
"Wasn't that our twenties?"
"No, our twenties were nothing but drugs, booze and sex, all while going to school full time."
"Hmm, I guess priorities have shifted since hitting our thirties." Ayla slipped on the dress, surprised it even still fit as she adjusted the bust and Pamela helped zip up the back. The spaghetti-straps needed a little loosening but other than that it passed Pamela's approval. Ayla smoothed the emerald satin material down her body, the hem of the skirt stopping midway down her thighs and a memory of when she first wore this dress popped up and how she would roll up the skirt to shorten it and pin them in place. Now that she was older, she had no real motive or even the desire to attract a mate for a one night fling. Her heart just wouldn't be in it.
"Put these on," Pamela said, holding up a pair of closed-toe gold stilettos that she had pulled out from the box in the back of the closet. Ayla seriously needed to go through her closet and sort through her things; apparently she was hoarding a lot of things from her crazy party days.
With her outfit complete and hidden underneath a warm long jacket made of wool and rayon, Ayla followed her best friend down to the waiting car where they were then transported to Freemont. The function was being held in a hotel where the ballroom had been rented out for the evening. As expected it was full of people, all dressed in their finest. The men all in tailored suits and the women were all gussied up as if in competition with each other, and in truth it could be true. Their coats were dropped off at the door and given tickets to keep to have their coats returned at the end of the evening.
Ayla immediately grabbed a champagne flute, knowing she was not going to get through this evening sober. The least she could do was get a pleasant buzz while she acted as Pamela's wingman since she had no intention of going home with anybody (plus she doubted Pamela was going to find a man willing to sleep with a pregnant woman on the verge of going into labor). Three glasses later and no buzzy feeling, Ayla was beginning to wonder if the function only provided a dry bar. She felt so cheated. She could barely focus on any of the conversations that were thrown her way while Pamela dragged her around the room. Ayla recognized a few of the faces as other doctors in the city, all of whom she hated and found incredibly uninteresting even outside of their profession.
Glass number five, this time she was just holding the glass to keep her hands busy as she pretended to be listening to yet another gentleman drone on about his stupid hobbies while Pamela was much better at staying engaged. Ayla took another sip of her champagne when another gentleman joined in their small cluster and when she looked up at him she immediately spat her drink out.
It was him!
Or was she finally feeling the effects of the non-alcoholic champagne? Can that even happen?
"Oh, Ayla! You okay, sweetie?" Pamela asked, surprised by the spray.
Ayla had covered her mouth, handing her glass off to Pamela before quickly walking away towards the exit. She felt rather mortified to have reacted that way when she could have just been seeing something that wasn't there, but his face and those eyes…The way his eyes looked at her, as if he…No! That was all a dream! They were all imaginary! He was imaginary!
Ayla hid inside the ladies room, trying to get a grip on reality (and relieve her bladder, she had too many drinks). Her brain obviously was looking for someone who doesn't exist because she had been depressed when she realized that Middle Earth had been nothing more than a dream. Seeing images of his face all over downtown. It was just a part of her psychosis trying to…to what? Drive her completely insane? She needed to leave. She needed to go back home. Opening her clutch she pulled out her phone and texted Pamela that she had too much to drink and was going to take a cab back home. She waited another minute before stepping out of the ladies room and headed towards coat check, handing the pimply teenager behind the counter her ticket number.
She felt a slight shift of air from behind her, alerting her that someone had stopped behind her. She didn't bother to turn around, simply just waiting impatiently for this damn acne-prone teen to hurry up and find her jacket.
"Didn't I say that I would find you?" came the familiar, sultry voice that haunted her dreams. The voice that sent heat rushing through her veins and flooding her with desire. She slowly turned around to look behind her, looking up into those piercing grey eyes that she thought had been made up and felt her knees turn to jelly. It was just a good thing that she had been leaning up against the counter or else she would further embarrass herself. He stepped up to the counter just as the teenager returned with Ayla's coat and handed his ticket to the boy who returned to search for his jacket. His gaze never straying from hers as the teenager returned with his jacket.
xxxxx
After nearly two hundred years Thranduil finally found her. Just as she had told him, she was in Seattle, the city that became his new kingdom, and ironically went along with his title as King of Wood and Stone. He quietly oversaw the expansion and evolution of Seattle from a shabby shanty town to a bustling city. His people quietly living among the humans, able to blend in enough to not arouse suspicion of their immortality. Effortlessly, Thranduil became the true ruling power of the Emerald City while his people filled the seats within the government, law enforcement, and conglomerate businesses as a private funder. And when he finally found her she was still just a child and would not know him until much later. But he was patient, and had kept a watchful eye on her over the years.
He found it amusing how Ayla was a rebellious teenager up until she finished rehab at seventeen and was on the road to recovery from her anorexia phase, then became a serious student to get into the college of her choice. He secretly helped fund her tuition under the guise of a "full scholarship" that only she got. He even made sure she didn't get into too much trouble while she was in college, considering what she had deigned to share about her youth he had gathered then that she was a wild child. And he was right.
Though it didn't spiral out until her father passed away and at that time he had briefly spoken to her, his heart aching to console her but knew it wasn't yet the right time. Throughout her college career Thranduil had his people keep a watchful eye on her, being her midnight rescue after a night of partying with her friends, making sure unsavory people never got within fifty yards of her, and of course making sure she didn't accidentally kill herself from all the drinking and experimental pill popping. One night Thranduil had found her wandering the streets alone, barely able to walk a straight line and he had to intervene and take her home himself. She was too out of it that night to make a safe judgment call and he drove her home. She had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, smelling of cigarette smoke and alcohol and was wearing a very sexy mini dress that showed more skin than it covered. When he parked in front of her apartment building he gently called her name, waking her up. She was still inebriated but she had kissed him and he almost gave in when she suddenly pulled away and opened the passenger door to vomit in the street. Without even looking back she stumbled out and disappeared into her apartment. That had been a close call and at the very least she had enough sense to not vomit in his car.
Another year went by and to his annoyance she married the pathetic human who would eventually betray her. Barely a year after that and they got divorced. He nearly laughed when he heard that Ayla had sold her ex's belongings, including the sports car for half its worth and then sold the house. It was amusing how she didn't waste any time on purging out the bastard from her life, but with the money she got in the settlement and from selling off his things she should have been able to buy a better home for herself, instead she settled for a small apartment that was walking distance from the hospital she worked at.
Another year goes by and then it finally happened. Ayla had been hit by a truck that slipped on ice going downhill, nearly killing her and putting her in a coma. It was just a lucky thing that Kwenthrith had been following her and was able to use elven medicine on her to heal her more serious injuries. Then it was just a matter of time until she woke up.
Every day he sat at her bedside, holding her hand and waiting for her to wake up. He had used his connections so as to not be disturbed or seen coming and going from Ayla's room. He had been there when she had begun to awake from her coma, and despite wanting to be the first person she sees he knew it was not yet time. She will need time to recover from her ordeal and he could not be certain whether she will remember her time in Middle Earth.
Thranduil was loath to wait any longer but knew that it would be for the best. And then just a few months later he saw his chance to finally test and see if she remembered as he approached her at the Foundation Gala. She was standing with her obviously pregnant friend, wearing a seductive emerald green cocktail dress that clung to her body perfectly. When he was close enough, to his great relief and amusement, he watched as her eyes met his and they went wide and she spat her champagne out before practically escaping the ball room.
"What the hell has gotten into her?" he heard Pamela say. "Oh! You're—!"
"Excuse me," he said politely, turning to leave the ball room. When he exited the gala he didn't see her and wondered if she had already left. He contemplated for a minute if he should check to see if she was outside until she finally came out from the women's restroom and went straight to the coat check. Her reaction could have just been a fluke but he had to be certain as he came up behind her and spoke in Sindar: "Didn't I say that I would find you?"
When she turned around, her stunned look was truly worth the wait.
"Shall we?" he asked smoothly, picking up her jacket first and holding it up for her to put on. She didn't know what to say, her brain nothing more than white noise at this point as she turned around and allowed him to help her put on her jacket and then found herself being escorted out of the building with his hand pressed into her lower back. She was incredibly aware of where his hand was on her back and all of a sudden she was feeling self-conscious of herself. Once the cold evening air hit her face did her brain suddenly went into overdrive with questions, leaving little else but the basic of instructions to her body to simply keep moving while she tried to remember how to speak.
"I'm sure you have questions." he said, breaking the silence between them. As if broken free from some spell, Ayla blinked her eyes and was able to focus her mind and stopped walking.
"How is this possible?" she asked, not looking at his face, worried her brain might just stop working again.
"The world has changed quite a bit and leaving for the white shores brought us to this world. Your world." he took her chin and lifted her face up to look at him. "But I had to wait another two hundred years for you to even be born and even then I had to keep waiting."
"So then what…you've been stalking me my whole life?"
"I'd like to call it keeping an eye on my investment." he smirked and it made her heart flutter. "I'll admit there were…several occasions where I had to step in. Of course back then you didn't know who I was and I was careful that you wouldn't remember me until it was time."
"Is this a dream?" she asked, looking up at him.
"If it is then it is a good dream." he said, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him as he leaned down to kiss her, to satisfy the longing that had been gnawing inside his chest. She kissed him back, her hands running up his chest and holding onto the back of his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. When they parted, he gazed deeply into her brown eyes, having missed looking into them. "This time there is nothing to keep us apart."
xxxxx
Ayla couldn't stop staring at the man sitting across from her, looking over a menu like it wasn't a huge deal that he just spirited her away from a charity function. What was more was that he was real, not imaginary as she had started to believe. His platinum hair was shorter and slicked back, the beautiful elven clothes were replaced with designer suits. It shouldn't be a surprise that he would look good in anything; it was just a little painful for Ayla because he looked too good. A million times better than the hottest male super models in the world and even though she was all dressed up she felt incredibly plain.
"I'm not going to disappear, nin mel." he said, his velvety voice like a sensual caress in her ears and flooding her brain, making her stupid since all she could do was breathe and stare. He looked up at her from across the table that suddenly felt like the distance was just too far. His grey eyes staring back at her and a smirk pulling at the corners of his perfect mouth.
"It's just…I'm still not able to wrap my head around this." she said, "How are you even here?"
"I told you already, I left for the shores of Valor and it brought me here. As had the rest of my kin." he said.
"I'm still having a hard time with this. I thought I was going crazy thinking I made it all up in my head but you're here, telling me that it was all real. The thing that gets me, though, is how I was there while I was here at the same time."
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"You're supposed to be wise and all knowing." He just shrugged his shoulders. "Thanks…that was very helpful."
"You're welcome."
"Clearly you've been drinking the sarcastic kool aid that Seattle is so famous for."
He smirked at her, making her heart flutter in her chest. "Seattle offers more than just Starbucks coffee and Bill Gates."
"Different haircut, different clothes, you even drive a car. I'm having a very hard time wrapping my head around this. So exactly how long have you been in Seattle?"
"Since 1863, of course back then it was called the Town of Seattle, not city."
"So you've been waiting here for what…" she paused to count in her head. "Over a hundred-fifty years?"
"To an immortal that isn't very long."
"How did you even get here?"
"Ironically the Undying Lands my people were flocking to was Europe, more precisely to what is now known as the UK. Of course my ship arrived to those shores about six hundred years ago and at that time this country had yet to be discovered."
"Ironic…"
"Yes, but as I said, I didn't arrive until the mid 1800's."
"So then this whole time you were here? Just…waiting?"
"Obviously."
A waiter came by, filling their glasses with wine. Ayla looked up and recognized the waiter as an elf. There were no pointy ears to identify him with but it was the feeling she got from him (plus the waiter was unreasonably gorgeous). She looked back at Thranduil who was watching her.
"So then what have you been doing all this time?"
"I've dabbled a bit in investments and business ventures."
"So you're a businessman?"
"In a sense. I own many properties not just here in Seattle but all over the Puget Sound and across the globe."
"No shame in being ambitious."
"Legolas handles much of the family business overseas, managing deals with other companies and overseeing our estates. But as you can guess our headquarters are here in Seattle."
"Estates?"
"I own a total of fifty-four castles and manors across Europe and eight islands in the Mediterranean."
"Right…can never have too many of those." she said as their dinner was brought to them. Wait…when did she order? "So then just how much of Seattle do you own?"
"All of it."
Ayla nearly choked on her wine as she struggled to swallow and brought a napkin up to her mouth to dab at the dribble of wine that splashed onto her chin and lips. "I don't know why I'm surprised by that answer."
"Well, two hundred years gave me plenty of time to build my kingdom."
Ayla snorted, "Still cocky as ever."
"Only to impress you." he said with a smile. "Is it working?"
"Consider me impressed." she said, smiling back at him.
"Ah, before I forget," Thranduil began as he reached into his coat pocket and then held out his hand to her, holding out her bracelet. Ayla let out a soft gasp of surprise as she took the bracelet and looked at it, seeing that it really was the very one Thorin had given her. It even still had the Lasgalen gem in the heart shaped charm. "I thought you would want it back."
"I can't believe you kept it all this time." Ayla said, looking up at him and smiled brightly at him. "Thank you so much."
"I know how much you treasured it and I'm glad it brings you this much joy." Thranduil said, smiling back at her as he watched her slip it back onto her left wrist. The evening with Thranduil felt like they had never left Middle Earth as they talked comfortably, the only difference was that they were not in Middle Earth. They were in Seattle. Together. They ate their dinner and held hands on the table, the need for each other's reassuring touch reminding them that they have all the time in the world. As the evening progressed it was becoming obvious where it was going to end, the only question was who lived closer.
xxxxx
In a blinding whir he pulled her inside and pushed her hard against the closed door, his mouth crashing into hers with a whimper as he worked the belt and zipper of his pants. It took a second for the shock of the sudden action to subside, and then Ayla sprung to his aid, readying her hands to push his Armani pants down as soon as the belt, button and zipper were undone. In the span of a breath she was being lifted off the ground and held fast against the door by strong hands that ripped the string of her thong, while she guided his cock toward an immediate entry, plunging hard and deep inside her in a single move.
She didn't try to restrain the cry that seized her throat as she was instantly, overwhelmingly filled by the solid mass of his cock, and she pulled his mouth back onto hers as he began to thrust, fast and hard, pounding her against the door. Her thighs were clamped tightly around his waist and he moved his hands up to her hips, holding her body steady as he hammered away, grunting and growling while nipping hard at her bottom lip, his breath hissing through his teeth.
"Yes," she whined as his cockhead repeatedly connected with the aching mass of sensations deep inside her, propelling her swiftly back into an ecstatic delirium. "Yes," she gasped, sinking her hips deeper, angling for the greatest possible penetration. His fingers dug into her thighs, his eyes a stormy grey and lost to an erotic daze while he pressed her hard against the door. She surrendered to it, welcoming the force, the speed, the strength that was so evident in his powerful body. She cried out with abandon as he growled and bit her, drinking deep from her mouth while his cock worked her into a frenzy, delivering jarring thrust after jarring thrust, the sensations within building up to a blinding crescendo faster than she could keep up with it. Her orgasm was crashing its way out of her at the moment his body tensed up, his hands pressing her hips down onto his as he cried out with the force of his own release. His tortured voice came high and desperate as he spasmed his pleasure between her thighs, his hips slowly resuming shallow, measured thrusts as he emptied himself into her.
He let out a sigh as he fell forward, sandwiching her between his heaving chest and the door. She pressed her cheek on his shoulder as she caught her breath and clutched hard at the broad expanse of his shoulders, sliding her hand over the hot flesh of his neck. He lowered her down, her thighs still feeling the firm grip of his hands even after he released her, and together they leaned against the door.
"I've waited so long for you." he breathed, his hands flexing against her hips. "And now my wait is over."
Ayla pressed her face into his chest, breathing in that same heady smell of cedar and spice. "I'm here…you've found me, nin mel." she said softly, hugging him tightly.
xxxxx
Later that night Thranduil sat forward and draped himself around Ayla, laying kisses on the back of her shoulders and up her neck and behind her ear as they lounged intimately in a bath tub large enough to fit them both comfortably. He located the bar of soap on his own, and within a matter of seconds she felt hot, slippery hands covering the skin of her back, massaging along the deeper troughs of flesh and running down her spine. She leaned into his touch and she felt his hips buck toward her, squeezing their bodies together around his erection. Her insides were contracting, pulsating with the need for him, her whole body practically throbbing. Giving in to the urge finally, she slowly lifted herself, bringing a hand behind her to grasp onto the hard length and bracing it as she moved her body into place over it. His hands stopped and she heard a sharp intake of breath when the head of his cock met her ready entrance. She slowly lowered herself onto him, feeling herself stretch to fit the impressive girth, filling her up completely and teasing a low moan from her. His head came forward to rest on her shoulder and he gripped hard at her waist, his fingers digging into her sides.
"Don't move yet…" he whispered, his voice sounding saturated with need. "Just stay right there for a moment." She let the full weight of herself settle on his hips and then leaned back, resting against his heaving chest. His soapy hands worked under her arms and slid over her breasts, cupping and exploring, circling her nipples and then dragging down her torso. She arched her back, grinding her hips down against him, barely resisting the need to writhe, to begin sliding herself up and down the length of him. But his arms around her were firm and solid, holding her securely into place.
"Show me how to please you Ayla," he whispered into her ear. One of his hands making its trek downward into the water and she slid her hand over it, guiding him to the little pearl of nerves that was nestled within her aching folds. She used his fingers as she would her own, pressing down and moving in tight circular motions, letting him learn the rhythms she preferred. Her body's reaction was quick, immediately building up a sweet wave of pleasure and once again she found herself needing to move, clenching and grinding around him, wanting to buck her hips in time with his fingers. He held her close with the other arm, his chin resting on her shoulder as he looked down her body. She squirmed against him almost involuntarily, trying to slide herself up slightly so she could come back down, and feel the impact of their rejoining, but he only tightened his hold on her.
"Come for me Ayla." he whispered into her ear. She kept her hand on his, adjusting the pressure and location when needed, feeling the unbearable wave of sensation continue to build, filling her body with the aching need for release. She directed his other hand to her breast and he squeezed, sending a peal of pleasure down her that connected directly to the motion of his fingers. She arched her back more as the tension built higher, the ecstasy teasing her into a tightly contained frenzy. She squeezed against his cock, her insides contracting with imminent climax and she noticed that his breathing had grown heavy, whimpers and grunts sounding low in his throat. She threw her head back, needing his lips, needing his tongue and his mouth on her immediately and at the slight turn of her head she found them, waiting and welcoming her kiss, devouring her lips hungrily.
The crest of orgasm came like a flood, drowning her in a sea of sensation so sweet, so perfect and intense that she felt herself begin to quake, her body spasming in pleasure around the anchor of his cock. Finally he arched up into her, his hips bucking forward with such strength that they were both lifted off the floor of the tub. He released a deep, primal growl as his body tensed and she opened her eyes briefly to see his toes curling. The feeling of him filling her and pressing hard against her aching depths, his fingers still working against her clitoris, the sounds coming from his throat, and his arms surrounding her, swallowing her; his mouth searching, consuming, biting, all combined to catapult her into a new stratosphere of sustained ecstasy. Another orgasm followed immediately on the heels of the first and she heard sounds coming from her throat that she barely recognized. She was crying, moaning, straining to contain the singing chorus of sensations that were exploding under her skin.
When it was done, she collapsed back against him, body pulsing as she gasped for breath. Her neck was damp with sweat despite the further cooling of the water. He tucked her tightly against his chest and nuzzled his nose down into her neck, groaning contentedly and laying soft kisses behind her ear.
"That was…" Ayla breathed, unable to find the words as she blinked up at the ceiling.
"…Incredible." he said, kissing her neck.
"Yeah…that's the word."