RATED M - angst, mention of torture and hint of *suicide*
Sensitive content ahead. This is chapter is the sole reason I rated this story with an M and an 'angst' warning, among other things.
Again, please take note of the time stamps, i'll leave you to connect the dots. =)
dislacimer: I don't own anything nor am i affiliated with anyone or anything mentioned or referenced in this story. Any similarity to people, places, events mentioned are purely fictional.
Enjoy!
Chapter 14
Greenwood, Third Age, year 2968
King Thranduil arose slowly, his shoulders stiff as he turned to Legolas. "You cannot seriously mean to go through with this!" he announced.
"I intend to do exactly that."
His face whitened at his son's words. "Why?" he demanded. "You can't expect me to believe you feel the slightest desire to marry her, she's your friend and a child at that."
"I don't."
"Then why in the Valar's name are you going to do it?"
"Pity," he said with brutal frankness. "I pity her. And, like it or not, I'm also responsible for what happens to her. It's as simple as that."
"Have you lost your mind?!" Thranduil's booming voice echoed throughout the confines of the royal office.
Leaning back in his chair, Legolas wearily closed his eyes and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Break it off?," he repeated bitterly. "I wish to Eru, I could, but I can't. She saved my life and, in return, I ruined her chances of having any sort of respectable life of her own. As soon as she returns to the village, she'll be fair game for every lusting male. She'll have no respectability, no husband, no children. In a year or two, she'll be reduced to selling her favors near the same village where I found her."
"Nonsense!" the King said stoutly. "Alexandria is not from this world, she can go somewhere else to live. Somewhere where the gossip won't follow her."
"In her world, the most she could hope to be is some man's mistress, and that's assuming she could attract some wealthy old fool or foolish young fop to keep her. You saw her—she's hardly the sort of female to incite a man's lust."
"There is no need to be vulgar," the King said stiffly.
Legolas opened his eyes, his expression sardonic. "Frankly, I find it rather 'vulgar' to consider rewarding my friend for saving my life by consigning her to a life of glorified prostitution, which is what you're suggesting."
"You keep saying, she 'saved' your life. What in the Smaug's hellish fire are you talking about?"
"You owe her every ounce of gratitude, for not for her I would not be here."
They regarded each other across the room, two fiercely indomitable wills clashing in silence. The King finally conceded defeat with an imperceptible inclination of his immaculately blonde head. "As you wish, Legolas," he said, reluctantly yielding to his son's authority as heir of the throne. Then another thought struck him and he sank into his chair, his face turning a grim, deathly white. "For ages, the bloodlines of this family have been unsullied. We are descendants of kings. Yet you mean for a mortal to produce the next heir." In supreme frustration, his grace turned his ire on his closest advisor. "Don't just sit there, Alden, say something!"
Lord Alden leaned back in his chair, his expression wry. "Very well," he said amiably, accepting Legolas' decision with a fatalistic grin, "when am I going to be presented to the future princess? Or do you intend to leave her in the royal salon until her debut?"
The King shot him a killing glance, but he said nothing more. Thranduil sat quite still, his back ramrod straight, his platinum head high, but the bitter disappointment of the last hour had added a decade to his face.
Alden glanced at Legolas and raised his glass in a gesture of a toast. "To your future wedded bliss, Greenwood." He grinned.
Legolas shot him an ironic glance, but other than that, his features were perfectly composed. Alden was not surprised at this lack of visible emotion. Like his father, Legolas nearly always kept his emotions under rigid control, but unlike the King, Greenwood did it effortlessly—so effortlessly that Alden and many others often wondered if he felt any really deep emotion other than anger.
In this instance, Alden was correct. Legolas was feeling nothing stronger than a certain grim, angry resignation toward his marriage. As he lifted his glass to his lips, Legolas contemplated with bitter amusement this unexpected twist of fate. After years of unrestrained wenching among Mirkwood's most experienced, most sophisticated—and least virtuous—elleths, fortune had perversely saddled him for life with a child-bride who was the supreme, eternal ingénue. Every instinct he possessed warned him that Alexandria's lack of sophistication sprang not from mere inexperience, but rather from an ingenuous nobility of spirit and gentleness of heart.
At his hands, she would lose her physical innocence, but he doubted if she would ever lose her wide-eyed naiveté, nor would she acquire the smooth veneer of bored sophistication and droll wit that was as much a requirement for admission into the elven society as were the right family connections.
It bothered him slightly that she would never be able to fit into his world, his life. It bothered him—but not much, for in truth he had no intention of spending much time with her in the years to come, nor did he intend to greatly alter his life-style. He would install her whenever and wherever she's around, after all aren't princesses only duty is to produce an heir?
With a sigh, he realized that his latest conquest would have to be informed that she wasn't going to accompany him to hunting next week as planned. Thank God the elleth was as sophisticated as she was beautiful and sensual; he would not have to endure a scene from her when he explained about the cancellation and his marriage.
"Well, when am I going to be properly presented to her?" Alden repeated., "We cannot keep this a secret for so long. The servants have eyes, ears and mouths, you know."
"The Feast of Starlight," Legolas commented nonchalantly, studying the glass of elven wine in his hand as if it held all the answers to his current predicament. The sooner his marriage was announced, the better.
Alden slowly twisted his neck to gaze imploringly at the Prince of Greenwood, "Surely you must be joking! The feast is only three weeks away."
"It is nearly impossible to get Alexandria ready in time for that grand of a debut." Thranduil commented, disbelief and utter shock marring his smooth elven features.
"Have you no faith in her, adar?"Legolas asked, his eyes looking up from studying the wine to string at his father's eyes that resembled his, "She's wise beyond her years, I can assure you. Alex will learn what needs to be and the people will accept her."
"I am quite perplexed about the 'people' you are referring to." Alden muttered dryly,
Ignoring Alden's comment, Legolas continued, "She's like a daughter to you. Don't even try to deny it."
"Then all the more reason for me to protect her." Thranduil hissed, already imagining the thousand scenarios that would ensue should the worst case happens. "I will not allow her to be subjected to the harsh criticism and vain comparison to the women who had shared your bed."
"Now, whose being vulgar?" Legolas muttered without even glancing.
"I am starting to think, he wants this." Absently fiddling with the wine glass and taking a long sip, Alden glanced at the King.
Thranduil was startled by his advisor's casual observation of his son's behavior. Obviously the bonding was quite a surprise, but there is something in Legolas' demeanor that would not concede to whatever council they offered. Had his son really refuted the bonding as he claimed or was it merely a ploy and to what end?
Feeling resignation creeping, Thranduil slumped back into his seat his decision already making its way to the forefront of his mind. "Very well, if this is what you wish, then it shall be done. Messengers will be sent out to inform elven kingdoms of the development. Alexandria will be dressed and trained and fitted to take on the role you have bestowed upon her. Three weeks from hence, just in time for the feast where she will be introduced, all the other elven realms will have been informed of the Princess of Greenwood." Rising to his seat and gently ,moving to the double wooden doors that lead to the adjoining room fo the King's study, "Make no mistake Legolas, once the announcement has been made, there is no turning back."
"You wanted me to be more pro-active in my duty as a prince, then I am acting upon it."
Ignoring Legolas' bitter jab at his duties as a prince, the King plowed on his attention on his advisor, "Have a tutor called forth for her highness, and have riders prepared to send out my letters announcing this development. Have every salon and study prepared for the arrivals of delegates. We are going to have a busy two months ahead of us." Turning his back and effectively dismissing the two elf lords.
Lounging in a big wingback chair three weeks after the news of the Prince's bonding was announced to the King, Alden studied his Lord with a combination of admiration and disbelief. Everything the King had mandated had been seen to, to the nine. The riders have been sent out to Lothlorien and Imladris, the latter garnering no response. "Greenwood," he chuckled, "I swear to Eru, what everyone says about you is true— you don't have a nerve in your entire body. This is your wife's debut, and I'm more nervous about it than you are."
Partially dressed in a deep dark green tunic, with silver lining, black trousers, and a silver-brocade, Legolas was simultaneously carrying on a last-minute meeting with his father's estate manager and pacing slowly back and forth across his bedchamber, glancing over a report on one of his business ventures. One step behind him, his beleaguered valet followed doggedly in his wake, smoothing a tiny wrinkle from his finely tailored shirt and brushing microscopic specks of lint from the legs of his trousers.
"Hold still, Legolas," Alden said, laughing with sympathy for the valet. "Poor Emeril is going to drop dead in his tracks from exhaustion."
"Hmm?" Legolas paused to glance inquiringly at Alden, and the stalwart valet seized his chance, snatched up a splendidly tailored black jacket, and held it up so Legolas had little choice but to slide his arms into the sleeves.
"Do you mind telling me how you can be so damned nonchalant about your own wife's debut? You are aware that you're leaving in forty minutes, aren't you?"
Dismissing the estate manager with a nod, Legolas laid aside the report he was reading, and finally shrugged into the jacket Emeril was still holding out to him, then he turned to the mirror and ran a hand over his jaw. "I don't think of it as her debut," he said dryly. "I think of it as adopting a child."
Alden smiled at the joke, "I think its quite fitting actually. Who could be more suited to marry you than this girl who have no knowledge of your reputation, untainted by politics and unsmeared by gossip. In that regard you can shape her in any way you like. I think you're onto to something here, Greenwood."
Legolas continued more seriously, "Alexandria will make no demands on my life, nor will my marriage to her require any real changes. After I break it off with Nienna—thank Eru— I'll take Alexandria down to the east where I'll drop her off at my house. She'll like it there. The house there isn't so large as to completely overwhelm her. Naturally, I'll return there to see her from time to time."
"Naturally," Alden said wryly.
Without bothering to answer that, Legolas picked up the report he'd been reading and continued scanning it.
Nienna was a beautiful elf maiden whom Legolas was just recently been seen with. Their last encounter was a few years behind but the elf prince was occupied at that time with resuming his duties as Captain of the King's guard and the duty of overseeing and patrolling the borders. Unfortunately, what Nienna made up for in physical attributes, she lacked in simple ability to make judgement and to behave in practical and sensible way—the elf maiden lacked common sense. Which Legolas had at first found amusing, had already started to grate on his nerves for her idea of fun seemed anemic and downright lackluster.
"Your beauteous Nienna is not going to like this," Alden put in after a few minutes. "She'll be reasonable," Legolas said absently.
The elf lords conversation was cut short, when a guard rushed into the Prince's chambers unannounced and looked to be harassed, "Milord, the King demands your audience. Immed—"
"I apologize for the intrusion," the King said tautly, "I know this is a special night for you." Drawling the comment with dripping sarcasm, sweeping into the room wearing an elegant emerald satin robe trimmed in silver silk. "You truly mean to go through with this mockery of a marriage? You actually intend to try to pass Alexandria off on Society as a young lady of breeding and culture."
"Careful. She is still my friend." Legolas eyes never leaving the parchment he was reading, but his voice bellied his simmering irritation and anger. "I mean to install her in my house in the east and leave the last part of that to you. There's no rush, however. Take a year or two to continue to teach her what she needs to know in order to take her place as my princess."
"I couldn't accomplish that feat in a decade," his father snapped.
Until then, he had tolerated his father's objections without rancor, but that remark seemed to push him too far, and his voice took on the cutting edge that intimidated servants and socialites alike. "How difficult can it be to teach an intelligent girl to act like a vapid, vain henwit!"
The indomitable old King maintained his stony dignity, but he studied his son's steely features with something akin to surprise. "Is that how you see females of your own class, then? Vapid and vain?"
"No," Legolas said curtly. "That is how I see them when they are Alexandria's age. Later, most of them become much less appealing."
Like your mistresses, Thranduil thought.
Like my mistresses, Legolas thought.
"That is not true of all females."
"No," Legolas agreed without conviction or interest. "Possibly not."
"But that is not what I'm here for."
"Then what is?" The icy but bored tone of Legolas cutting through the King's thought.
"A messenger has been sent from our northern boarder. Spiders have been spotted there and are viciously trying to challenge our defenses. I need you to leave as soon as possible. Take with you additional soldiers to take to the borders. The last thing we need right now is a breach in our land, incurring fear and panic among our people, just as we are expanding this monarch and introducing a princess." Finality coloring his tone. If there was one thing that the prince and the King had always agreed upon, it is the safety of the kingdom and the people always comes first.
Glaring at his father while he stood unmoving in fine woven elven silk, Legolas remained stoic for a few more minutes. No sign of the storm brewing within his mind. Alex would never forgive him for this. It is cruel and selfish and rude to leave her alone just when she is to be introduced to Elven society. Feeling resignation settle in his bones, Legolas gave a curt nod, turning around and immediately shrugging out of the elaborately tailored jacket he had just finished putting on. "Where is she?"
"In the parlor, her tutor is giving her final notes on etiquette and last minute reminders on Elven cultures lest she offends any of the elven aristocrat." Thranduil rambled on, as if he suddenly felt anxious about Alex's introduction to society and now without a Prince to escort, she'll be like fresh meat to ravenous vultures.
Expertly moving about the room and swiftly changing his attire to one of the customary garb of elven army, Legolas swiftly left the room in search of his unlikely bride.
"You know, for him to act so dispassionate about his binding, it is a rare sight to see him slightly unhinged at any thought concerning her." Alden commented dryly, his eyes dubious as he stared at the door Legolas left ajar in his haste to get to Alex.
The King paced the length of the room, his attention in rapt concentration. Now that one part of his problem is addressed there is still the subject of Alex's debut and now without his son the night is slowly turning sour even before it started. Remembering the weeks leading up to the Feast and the frantic crash course Alex had to undergo to have at least some form of preparation to face the dreaded evening, Thranduil felt—for the first time in years—trepidation.
"Alden," the King said still pacing realizing that Legolas had already left a little while ago, "Do you suppose I made a mistake in bringing the younger woman to teach Alexandria on how to go about in Elven Society?"
-Fontanellato, Italy, July 2001 to September 2016-
Slipping again for the hundredth time that night, Alex trudged forward her slippers having been caught by the vines and shrubbery that littered her path. The rain had already slowed down but the slow droplets would not relent, paired with the whipping of cold evening wind and Alex was already frozen to the bone.
Her hair had already fallen behind her, the rain having destroyed what was left of the intricate braid her elven maid had manipulated it into.
She wasn't even sure if she was still crying, her tears have all mingled with the rain. The ends of her dress are now already soaked with mud, her sleeves already marred with tears from being caught in wayward branches. Looking forward she spotted the familiar lamp posts that were scattered along her Nana's labyrinth, outlining the boundary of where the land between the wooded area and garden divides. Hurrying her steps and moving branches and leaves out of the way, Alex finally made into solid cemented ground.
Throwing the already damaged slippers behind her, Alex opted to run barefoot through the labyrinth. Still slipping, Alex felt her energy renew at the thought that she had finally escaped that place. Maybe in the morning when she is feeling better and well rested, she would try to discern what happened but tonight, tonight she would allow herself to wallow in her grief and nurse her heart that has been broken for the first time.
Stepping into the empty kitchen, feeling the warm air engulf her freezing frame, Alex moved about silently to the large manor, the lighting dim making the shadows that danced across the walls even more ominous. Where is everyone?
Shaking her head and taking a deep breathe, Alex trudged silently, sending an apology in her head to the maid that would have to clean up the trail of mud and dirt and trails of water she had left in her wake.
Turning left into the familiar hallway, past the dining hall into the staircase that lead upwards into the resident's quarters, Alex made her way up the wide, wooden staircase. Feeling the weight of the now soaked dress she wore to the Feast of Starlight now boring down on her thin shoulders. Uncrossing her arms around her thin frame and fisting both her hands on the bodice and lifting the gown to provide her with ample space for movement, Alex made her way upwards.
Reaching the top of the staircase, Alex continued in her silent march to her bedroom. Her tears have already ceased, nothing but emptiness resided in her now. Reaching for the faded brass knob, slowly turning and pushing her thin frame through the opening, feeling the rumble of the sky of another impending rain shower, Alex hurried to close her door. Switching on the nearest lamp she could reach she was startled to find her mother seated on her chair near her study desk.
"Where the hell have you been, young lady?" The seething emotionless voice of Elizabeth cut through the deafening silence. The sudden streak of white light outside—another warning of oncoming thunder—made Elizabeth look even more ominous as her eyes slowly studied her daughter's soaked form from head to toe.
"Mama—"
"Do you know how long you were gone?" Elizabeth slowly stood, in her hand a stack of papers that Alex quickly recognized were her sketches, "You were gone for five hours! Now, you'll tell where the hell you were or so help me God—"
Five hours? Was that how it has only been? She was in Mirkwood for more than a month! Turning her green eyes to her mother, "I..I was at the garden."
"Liar." Elizabeth hissed, "Smith told me you borrowed one of the horses to go for a ride, we found the horse but not you. Do you understand how frightened we were when we couldn't find you?!"
"Mama—"
"We thought you had been kidnapped!" Straightening her composure and gazing at Alex intently as if seeing past her masquerade, "But apparently, you have been off meeting some boy, haven't you?"
"Mama, let me explain."
"Who is he?" Waving the sketches clutched tightly in her grip. "Does he live nearby? We do not have neighbors for acres, so who is he?"
"They're my friends. They're not from this world, Mama.."
"Here we go again."
"I swear I'm telling the truth!" Alex pleaded, her already broken heart even breaking even more at the sight of pure disbelief and disappointment swimming in her mother's eyes.
"You are fifteen years old for Christ's sake! And I will not have my daughter go galavanting about meeting boys in the woods or playing imagination fairy wonderland." Shifting her weight and moving her attention towards the fireplace on the corner of the room, Elizabeth made her move towards it.
In her exhausted state, mentally, emotionally and physically, Alex did not even notice that the ancient fireplace in her room was roaring to life. In one swift flick of Elizabeth's wrist as she threw the first sketch into the fire, Alex felt her entire frame froze in horror. "Mama, please don't!"
Running across the expanse of the guest room that was turned into her own since she was born, Alex pleaded with her mother not to burn her drawings away. Those drawings are the only proof of another world that she frequented.
Drawings of tall trees in Mirkwood, the river in where she camped with the elf and the ranger, the horses she saw in the Greenwood stables. The sunset, partially unfinished. Rough sketches of Aragorn's profile, another sketch of the intricate design of the hilt of the sword that he carried and the complicated carvings on the elf's bow. On another page was the elvish letters she was learning to write when she was twelve, a lesson courtesy of the elf and ranger again.
Page after page of memories were slowly being swallowed by the roaring fire, the room growing impossibly more warm by the slowly growing flames like a insatiable monster being fed with unlimited meals that consisted of Alex's most treasured and only tangible collection of a world that only she knew, a world that she firmly believed was real.
And finally, half filled sketch pad of drawings of Legolas. A pencil sketch of his eyes, his profile, a picture or him perched on a branch, a half finished water color painting with the sun's rays highlighting his soft features. "I forbid you from seeing this boy ever again, do I make myself clear?"
Pushing her daughter's frame and slippery wet arms around her frame, Elizabeth moved back to the desk pulling sketch pads, pencils, oil paints, brushes and hurled them at the fire. Pulling drawers back her fingers curling at whatever objects she could reach, each receiving the same treatment from the other items Elizabeth could grasp.
Alex remained slumped on the floor sobbing. Her eyes every now and then sweeping at the burning flames, her hand loosening their grip on her mother's ankle.
"I forbid you from going out unchaperoned ever again. From now on, I want an account of your daily activities. You will not move unless I hear it. I forbid you to paint or draw or sketch or whatever the hell it is that you do. You will not see another canvas or paint brush while I'm alive. You will complete your tutors and mind your manners at all times. If I have to be made the villain here just for you to learn your place then I'll gladly be." Kicking Alex hand from her ankle, she turned to glare at her daughter's hunched form, "Lastly, I do not want to hear anymore about these friends of yours nor where they come from or what magic you think they do. They are not real and you are either too stupid to use your brain and must be deranged if you insist they are!"
Watching her daughter's defeated form, Elizabeth moved to stand by the door, "Learn from this, Alexandria." Her voice cold and firm, her chest heaving from the exertion of throwing Alex's belongings. "By tomorrow, I expect a few changes around here."
"Mama.."
"I am putting my foot down Alex. I have been patient and lenient with your constant disobedience and stupidity for years—no more." Slamming the door leaving Alexandria on the floor.
Alex remained on the floor, her gaze moving at the charred remains of her brushes and bottles of paint, half of a pencil that was not consumed yet by the fire. But it was the burnt pieces of canvas and papers that broke her heart. It seemed that no matter where she went, she was always destined for heartache. Another round of tears erupted from the broken teenage girl. It was hours into the night that Alex found the energy to get up and change, moving to her bed and hiding under the covers hoping that in the morning it would all be just one big nightmare.
"Miss Alex?" A timid voice broke through Alex's consciousness, as she squinted her eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight that filtered in through her bedroom window. The events of last night flooding back into her mind. The rain, the humiliation, the hurt and coming home to her mother's rage. Her eyes shifted to the fireplace, the fire had already died down leaving only charred remains of her belongings that fought hard at the flames but in the end was consumed. Unfortunately, nothing visible could be spotted of her drawings and paintings, they were all swallowed by the fire.
Feeling the burning and telltale signs of tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Alex moved to look at the maid standing awkwardly at the side of her bed, "Your presence is requested down stairs—immediately." Emily, her once young maid who now looked more mature, sputtered on.
Having no energy to speak and feeling drained from last night's unfortunate debacle, Alex tried to push herself up and motioned to head to the adjoining bathroom to change—
"The request was immediate, miss. They have been waiting for you since this morning." Emily stuttered,
They?
"What time is it?" Alex groaned, her voice chaffed and felt like her vocal cords were scratching against each other.
"Just past noon, Alex." The sad expression on Emily's face still lingered on the furrow of her brow and the frown of her lips.
What is going on?
"Fine." Giving Emily her best glare. Turning the other way and heading straight for her bedroom door, yanking it open and walking barefoot across the the carpeted hallway, down a flight of stairs—while still in her pajamas—but instead of turning left that would lead to the kitchen where she came home last night, she turned right towards the sun room where she knew her mother would be.
Pulling the tall wooden door open, Alex was greeted by more bright light, covering her eyes from the onslaught of the sun's rays. Her eyes felt sensitive and swollen from all the crying.
"Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence." The biting cold tone of her mother echoed through the walls of the sunroom. "We have been waiting for you since this morning."
"Is this her?" Another voice spoke up, soft baritone voice that belonged to a man almost her mother's age. In black dress pants and blue button down shirt, his glasses perched on his slightly hinged nose, his brown eyes studying her.
"This is my daughter, Alexandria. Alex, meet Dr. Eric Stevens."
"Come my dear, why don't you take seat and we'll get started."
Refusing to move and making herself comfortable standing by the wooden door, Alex continued to stare at the two people in the room. None of who, she felt she could trust.
"Ah, usual case of teenage rebellion, I see." Removing his glasses and procuring a handkerchief from his pocket, Dr. Stevens moved to wipe his lenses in. "Alex, why do you think you're here?"
A thousand answers floated in her mind but Alex refused to voice them out opting instead to roll her eyes defiantly and shrug her shoulders. Her expression positively bored.
Clearing his throat and glancing at Elizabeth, he continued, "Your mother tells me that you have 'friends'. Do you want to tell me more about them?"
The silence of the room was deafening, even the usual chirping of birds just outside the glass doors that led to the garden was gone. An ominous feeling started to creep up Alex's spine. Alarms going off inside her head but she could not identify why. Everything seemed to be calm and collected, but she felt like she had entered a twilight zone, something is happening but she could not see it, like a cloak pulled over her eyes.
Alex's panicked gazed flickered towards her mother, but Elizabeth pretended to ignore her, moving to grab her warm tea and taking a sip of it. "Where do they live? Are they from around here?" Dr. Stevens continued on, his questions feeling more like an accusation than wanting to get information. "Do you see them often? Your mother tells me, you believe they are from another world. Have you been into this world?"
Question after question was met with silence for another hour, but Alex's gaze remained focused on her mother. Hurt, betrayal and fear all mingled together in her emerald orbs that matched her mother's. Her vision suddenly becoming blurry from the tears that spilled out.
Moving to grab his satchel from the floor and pulling a brown fold out, flipping through the pages and pulling a paper out, Dr. Stevens turned the page to Alex, "Is this your friend?"
Alex's eyes widened at the recognition of her drawing, it was a profile of Legolas but he was not aware she was drawing him, he was facing the other way, his eyes focused elsewhere, but the details of his profile and his ears were captured in the drawing. Suddenly it wasn't only her head that was starting to hurt, so was her heart. "This is a very good drawing, Alex. I must say, I am impressed with your talent." Dr. Stevens tried to placate her, noticing how her body suddenly became rigid and how her hand started to shake.
"No drawings. No paintings. Nothing even remotely close to art. Not even a crayon." Elizabeth muttered after an hour of silence. As if the very idea of art disgusted the matriarch of the family.
"Right, Mrs. Townsend." Turning is attention back to Alex, "You haven't answered any of my questions, Alex. I am going to let those slide, but I need you to be honest with me. Are you familiar or are you taking any drugs or hallucinogen?" Turning to Elizabeth while pushing the folder back into his satchel, "Like I said Mrs. Townsend, it is not uncommon for drugs and other recreational hallucinogen to have infiltrated our schools. In my profession, I am no longer surprised to see our gullible youth get exposed to these horrors. It is truly atrocious. That is why I made it my calling to help these teens." Moving to stand fix his brown coat around him.
"I understand completely doctor. Alex has always been an only child, she has always craved attention."
Dr. Stevens only nodded in acknowledgment, pulling a mobile phone from his pocket and pressed a number on speed dial, the number must have picked up on the first ring as the doctor's only answer came, "We're ready."
Alex felt another stab to her heart to hear her mother's off handed comment. Suddenly feeling anxious and scared at the doctor who was moving closer to her, Alex made to move away from the door, unfortunately she was not fast nor far away enough from the the doctor as he reached her and grabbed her arm, "We are going to help you dear. You don't have to fight."
Alex's panicked gaze moved from her arm to the doctor's hand trying to pull her arm free from his vice like grip. Her eyes moving to her mother, begging for help.
The doors suddenly opened and two men in white nurse suits entered, gently holding Alex on either side. Alex's thin frame was no match against the doctor let alone two grown men.
"Mama?" Pulling both her arms and craning her neck to look at her mother who only returned with a blank stare.
"Stop fighting Alex. This is for your own good. You'll thank me someday."
"Mother, please! Where are they taking me?"
"Springdale, Alex. We will try to fix what is wrong with you." Dr. Stevens answered his smile sickeningly sweet.
"Mother please! I'll be good. I will never ran off in the gardens again. I can stop coming back here. I'll stay in New York all year."completely sobbing but refusing to give in as Alex tried to wiggle away from the two nurses. Using her feet to hold herself from being dragged across the wooded floor as the commotion continued into the hallway.
"Of course you'll never come back here. You will never see Fontanellato again. Not until you are better." Elizabeth's sweet voice floated, while she and Dr. Stevens followed the trio out into the hallway towards the front door. "Emily, the bags please." Elizabeth called out.
Alex watched on in horror at the complete nonchalance of her mother, she felt all alone. For the first time in her young life, Alex felt truly alone.
"What the hell is going in here?!"
"Stay away from this Aemilia, this doesn't concern you." Elizabeth cold tone cut through Alex's screaming. "My daughter is sick and instead of helping—because of you, you indulged her in more fantasies." Scoffing as they made their way outside the door, a car waiting for them by the driveway.
"Nana! Nana, help me please."
"Elizabeth, have some sense! My granddaughter is not sick. Let her go." Aemilia's voice echoed through the hallway, signaling the maid to push her wheelchair to follow the group outside her front door.
"Yes, because elves, wizards and dwarves are real?! She is my daughter and I will raise her and discipline her as I see fit. She has been skipping her tutors and going God knows where! Yesterday she disappeared for five hours. I've had enough. She will get better and she will forget about everything to do with fairytales and the fucking ginger bread man. Let's go."
"Elizabeth, you're making a big mistake." Aemilia pleaded with her daughter in law,
"Am I?" Elizabeth challenged, ignoring Alex as she continued to cry and beg in the background, "I am her mother, Aemilia. Either you get out of my way or I will push you out of our lives." Swiftly turning around and climbing onto the car where Alex was currently strapped down in the middle of two orderlies.
"Nana please!"
"I'm coming for you, sweetheart." Aemilia whispered, tears streaming down her pale and wrinkled cheeks, as she watched in complete horror as the car drove off. It was a few minutes after that Aemilia was wheeled back into the house. Her deteriorating strength already obvious. The doctors never actually found what was wrong with her physically, but she knew. She knew exactly what was happening. Her time in this world was slowly running out. The clock was ticking. Instructing the maid to wheel her into the sun room, Aemilia noted with still sharp eyes that the room looked to be untouched, except for the tea set that still sat on the table by the window. Moving closer she spotted a paper left. Reaching out and staring at the drawing, Aemilia felt her heart pound and her breathe leave her as she stared at the drawing she recognized. An image of a young Thranduil—drawn by hand and looked to be recent. But his eyes were softer and his features more rugged and edged. This was not Thranduil but an unmistakeable image of his son. Dread spread out from her chest and Aemilia felt more tears threaten to spill as she realized that the prince her daughter had befriended years ago was none other than the young Prince of Greenwood.
"Emily," Aemilia called out, her face hardening into determination at what she knew she'd have to accomplish.
"Yes madame?"
"Get me to a phone, I need to call my lawyer." If Elizabeth wants a fight, she'll give it to her.
The four walls continued to stare back as Alex glared at the padded white walls of the room she was currently locked in. She has been at Springdale for a week. Her first day was a challenge, they tried to be nice, but Alex would not go down without a fight. And fought she did. She was being held down against her will and she fought the nurses, doctors and orderlies every step of the way.
Springdale was divided into two wings. The school were they house the dorm grounds and teaching facilities where the enrolled 'students' would have to attend the classes while at the same time, the wing were they receive their therapy and medical treatment which was addressed by the infirmary building that is located the the east side of the campus. The east campus, houses a tall structure of six-floor building, consisting of padded rooms, a ward where all hospital beds were lined up and clinics of doctors that provide counseling sessions for the troubled teens.
A week into this madness and Alex was already losing her mind. It was a constant round the clock schedule: wake up at the ass crack of dawn, pushed into cold shower with the doors left open, breakfast consisting of water and a single fruit, next is a two hour long session with Dr. Patel—where she refuses to say anything, medication where she was given three capsules in colors of red, blue and green—where the nurses refused to provide explanation of what they are for, lunch consisting of a bowl of oatmeal and single glass of juice, the entire afternoon until night time locked in padded cell with no company but the padded white wall. No dinner was served, according to school protocol, dinner was a privilege earned by students who are well-behaved.
Guess she pissed way too many staff to earn that award.
The punishment of no food she could take, but it was at night when only her dreams and memories would plague her that Alex felt vulnerable. Nothing but memories of tall trees, and warm rivers, of gardens and sunshine would keep her awake at night and those same memories would make her cry, for the reality at the stark contrast of her current situation would set in and then the doubt if she would ever survive this place.
But Alex's stubborn nature refused to surrender. Another week, and then another week, the days started blending in together. Alex had no more recollection of what day it was, or month or date. She was already loosing weight at an alarming rate. Her stomach had grown use to the small meals that the first proper meal she had after a month of being locked up, she threw up, her body rejecting the sudden foreign invasion of salt and oil and everything healthy.
But the medications continued. Alex had no idea what they were, but she knew what they could do. At the first four hours after the intake, drowsiness would ensue, then sleepiness and then agitation. She would fall asleep but her dreams were always plagued of nightmares and then she would wake up feeling even more tired.
Aemilia fought hard for Alex's custody, but the court over ruled her petition. Unable to provide the necessary evidence that Elizabeth was incapable of looking after her own daughter and with Elizabeth, herself, having the proper documents and medical reference to support her claim for the need to have Alex 'enrolled' at Springdale, the judge ruled in favor of Elizabeth. Aemilia was heartbroken, left alone in a large manor at Fontanellato, Arwen's sister continued to fade at an even faster rate. Aemilia's skin got more paler, her long dark hair became silver and dry. Her strength had waned, leaving her weak and most of the time confined to her bed. Aemilia refused to succumb to the call of rest, she had still one last fight in her. She held onto hope that one day her grand daughter would return, and when that time comes, she vowed to tell Alex the truth. The truth of what she was, and where she belonged and of a family she still had in Imladris.
Alex had a semblance of time when she was moved to her dorm room on the other side of the campus indicating the start of the school year. The room looking a lot more like penitentiary jail cell than a campus dorm. Everything was bolted to the floor, the edges smooth and round, a bed, a desk with a stool, and a single toilet—all bare, all cold and uninviting. Alex was perplexed at first about the toilet situation but she soon discovered that she was to take shower along with the rest of students—in the same gender— in a public shower. Each one were getting inspected before entering and all are required to strip naked and take a bath at an allotted time and leave at the same time.
Even as school started her routine was still the same in the morning, but school was accommodated in the afternoon. Alex noted that every single student moved like a zombie. Following a schedule, minding their own business and everyone was being watched. The medications would continue too, but the dosage as time progressed seemed to change, the longer she refused to talk, the instances she chose to fight, the padded walls and drowsiness would set in.
The days blended into weeks, and weeks into months and after a year into that horrendous school Alex got her first serious brush with death. Alex fought an orderly so hard for attempting to strip her naked after refusing to be humiliated by taking a shower with the rest of the student body that Alex broke the orderly's nose. It was her first time at an isolation chamber. She was locked for a week in nothing but her underwear, a meal was delivered once a day and the medication was increased to three times a day. Fifth day into her so-called punishment, with her body frail and weak, that the dosage of her medication became too much for her system. The effect of the drugs were imminent, the orderly who came to pick up her tray discovered her slumped on the floor, convulsing and frothing at the mouth. She was rushed to the infirmary.
The next time Alex woke up she was strapped to the hospital bed. Dr. Stevens had placed her on suicide watch and her mother visited her for the first time, screaming and crying and scolding Alex for attempting to take her life. Nobody believed her, nobody listened. For the next school year she was forced to wear a red band on her wrist, an indication that she should be watched carefully because of suicidal tendencies. The teachers became more strict, the other students became wary of her, always staring and following her every movement.
"I heard she tried to overdose herself with her medications," Alex heard one of the students in her class whisper. Stares would follow her while in the hallways of the campus, at the public shower, in the school cafeteria, even at the dorm rooms and common areas. Alex felt isolated and singled out.
Realizing that the only way out is to play along, during her therapy sessions with Dr. Stevens, Alex learned to say what the doctor wanted to hear just to get the damn thing over it. As long as he was able to write something down on his notebook and present some evidence to her mother that Alex was indeed getting better with the treatment she was receiving then all was well, quiet and uneventful. Alex learned that uneventful was good. That quiet was preferred. She learned to fade in the background and kept quiet.
"I am pleased to hear you have been following school regulations and attempting some normalcy again. I must say, it was quite a challenging first few months you had here when you arrived. Have you had any recurrent dreams or seen any of your 'friends' since?" Dr. Stevens stared intently for any sign of reaction from Alex.
"No dreams. The medications were very helpful." Alex calmly commented reminding herself to smile and agree at the right time to avoid blowing her perfectly crafted facade.
"What about drawing? Do you still you like to draw or paint?"
"I prefer math. I'm good with math. Mrs. Portham said I have a talent with numbers, I'm thinking about getting into college and pursuing something in business." Smiling at the right moment to avoid suspicion.
"That's good, Alex. Very good in fact. Your mother would be pleased to hear about your progress." Dr. Stevens smile got even wider.
On her last year at Springdale, the institution finally broke her. Alex would refuse to go near any art materials. Her anxiety attacks got to a point where she would panic at the sight of a painting. Particularly painting and pictures of scenery, of forests and mountains. She avoided talks of fairytales and happy ever afters. She shied away from campus grounds always finding reason to keep herself locked indoors.
Alex performed beyond their expectation when it came to her academics despite the questionable treatment she was receiving from the school. What she excelled in during the daytime would be plagued with silent cries, panic attacks and nightmares when she was alone in her poor excuse of a dorm room. She silently questioned herself, when no answer came up, she took to berating herself for being a freak. Maybe she really was incurable, maybe there really was something wrong with her. Her thirst for normalcy fueled her determination to fix what is empty in her. She was missing something, like a bird kept in a gilded cage, she was trapped, she was drowning with no sign of light at the end of the dark, dark tunnel, Alex had no choice but to bend to what everyone around her wanted. She abstained from anything considered recreational. She refused to go near a library, dropped out of any and all art, musical and theatrical classes. She even so far as refuse to go outside. Most of all, she stopped talking about middle earth altogether. At seventeen, she had finally convinced herself that that place was not real. Just a product of a child's overactive imagination. On the occasion that she'd get any down time between classes and therapy, she'd bottle herself in her room working on her college application and of the day she'd get out.
It was miracle that got Alex accepted into Fordham University. If there is one thing she'd have to thank her mother for, surely it was because of her mother and her talent at managing to pull strings that got Alex accepted. No university in their right mind would accept someone deemed troubled or problematic. But Alex soon proved them wrong. As what she had learned in Springdale, as soon as Alex started college, she kept her head down. Took the most mundane course, but soon found that her ability in numbers and interpretation and took courses in process and quality analytics. She attended subjects in compliance and risk management, marketing analytics and global IT strategy and management. In all her proficiency in her subjects, she was truly and utterly lost. Moving day by day keeping herself preoccupied and busy with different field and various subjects without the sense of fulfillment. It was during in one of those classes she met a boy named Christopher.
Enrolled to a good university, with a normal college boyfriend—everything looked liked everything was moving in the right direction, right? As she asked herself that question again and again.
Alex had finally settled properly to college life when an unexpected package arrived in her dorm, six months into her first year of college.
"Townsend?" The warden asked, as Alex made her way inside the lobby of the dorm she was currently residing in.
"Yes?"
"You have a package." Reading under the counter and retrieving a white envelope and placing it in front of her, "Arrived this morning. Just sign here." Handing her the pen and leaving Alex to examine the 'package'.
"What's that, babe?" Christopher jogged towards her, he was on his way to class when he spotted Alex seriously having a stare match with the envelope on her hand.
Flipping the envelope over and finding only her name written at the back, quickly recognizing her grandmother's elegant handwriting, Alex's heart started to pound in her ears. She hadn't heard from grandmother in long time. Another emotion made its way towards her chest as she remembered the empty promise of her Nana to go after her. In all her three years in Springdale, her Nana had not once thought to visit her. She understood her mother's disdain for her, but not her Nana. She thought the world of her Nana.
Ripping the end of the envelope, and spilling the single content inside, she spotted the familiar locket. Peering inside the envelope for any other content, she found no letter. Alex stared at the locket, her hand shaking at what she knew was inside. The locket was kept in pristine condition, a shining white silver—too white— that glinted in the light. The chain in foxtail design, slender and long, the heart shaped locket at the end of the chain. Pressing the clip on the edge of the heart, it opened up, two pictures stared back at her. Her own and the other of a handsome dark haired gentleman with silver grey eyes. Tears prickled in her eyes at the image of her long dead father. Her father she never got to meet but knew all about thanks to her Nana. "I..I have to go." Sprinting to the nearest elevator, leaving Christopher staring at her bewildered.
"Oh..well..okay. See you after class then."
Christopher provided her with the right amount if distraction that she was looking for. While her days were filled with classes and research, her nights were filled with Christopher. A void in her heart that needed filling was immediately occupied with nothing but Christopher. Not once had she thought about middle earth, and a certain elf. Residing in the big apple made her also forget about magic and fairies and wizards. Daily traffic, tall buildings—the sound of a city that never slept engulfed her and all to soon she was occupied with numbers and tables, analysis and graphs. She became obsessed with what is quantifiable and deemed that anything unexplained or broken down in math was absurd. Her obsession with her studies were overtaking her and almost as soon as she decided to take a risk with Christopher the strain in their relationship became too much, Christopher was demanding too much of her time and devotion for her taste and was easily becoming a thorn she could not wait to get rid off. Christopher was always there, always hovering and Alex felt suffocated—an all too familiar feeling that she desperately wanted to shake off for she got too much of it from her mother. Eight months into the relationship and Alex left the boy. Opting to concentrate on her studies and finish her degree.
She had known boys throughout her college years but could not admit to herself that she could not commit. It was during her lowest moment, when she decided to get help. Hearing of a particular doctor in the city, who was known to be best in his field, Alex made an appointment. Convinced that she needed immediate intervention, Alex met Dr. Isaac Patel. And Paul.
Refusing to be a burden to her mother any longer, Alex took a part time job as a waitress at the local deli place. Mr. and Mrs Freidman, a nice elderly couple who owned the deli place that students from all different universities frequented. A homey little deli shop that housed couches instead of the usual tables and chairs, that offered home cooked meals with a little sprinkle of Italian and New Orleans flavor at an affordable rate that kept the students well fed and nourished. Alex met quite a few unique individuals and made friends with some of the students and locals who frequented the place. What she earned in her five hour, six day a week hustle went to Dr. Patel. It was a blissful few months until her mother found out about her therapy. It was not a beautiful encounter yet again, as Alex tried to reason with her mother about her decision to seek medical intervention without informing her mother. It was a good thing Dr. Patel intervened and stated doctor-patient confidentiality and stated the legalities that came with Alex's age and her right to seek confidential and unbiased treatment. This shut her mother up but Elizabeth was not about to concede without a fight. Like mother, like daughter.
"Where did you get that?" Elizabeth sneered as she stared her daughter down as they made their way down the step from Dr. Patel's office.
"Nana sent it." Drained and exhausted, Alex made quick steps to get back to her dorm and crawl under the covers of her duvet.
"I see. So she still contacts you?"
"Mother, I really don't want to do this right now." Staring her mother as if all the fight has been drained out of her. "No. It came by the school mail. It has no letter, no message, nothing. Okay?"
"Watch your tone with me, young lady."
"What do you want me to say? This is the only memory I have of Papa."
"After everything I have done for you. This is how you repay me?" Scoffing as she placed the sunglasses back on her painted face, "I truly hope you'll come around some day Alex and realize that all I've ever done is to make you better. After all that I did, it's still never enough for you, is it?Your father would be very disappointed in you. Just like I am."
Alex felt like she had been slapped in the face. Without bothering to turn back she bolted out the office fast. Alex walked for hours and without meaning to, she was standing outside Paul's apartment complex. It took a couple of rings before a sleepy Paul answered his intercom. Pleasantly surprised, Paul led Alex up to his apartment. "Are you okay sweetheart?"
A tired smile graced her face before asking quietly if she could crash for the night. Paul agreed but knew that something happened, wanting to know what but also wanting allow Alex her space, Paul patiently waited. Alex remained fast asleep the next morning as Paul left early for his weekly appointment with Dr. Patel. Having his own struggles and being ostracized by his family for being gay and the struggle of coming to terms with all the mental abuse he acquired as a child for being different, Paul felt a singular affinity with Alex and their almost similar situation.
Paul provided Alex with he kind of relationship shows yearning for—loyalty—and they were both loyal to each other to a fault. As soon as Alex completed her college, Paul insisted they share an apartment. Alex found a job working for a financial firm but soon left, unable to stand the chauvinism if her coworkers, but not without Paul storming in her building and punching her boss square in the jaw for attempting to sleep his best friend. Alex, too, found herself in a similar situation in having to defend her friend. As diverse of a city New York is, there are still people who are not kind to people like Paul. They became a force to be reckoned with, when it came to protecting their own space and peace.
Paul introduced Alex to what fun actually is. They went to bars and introduced Alex to drag shows. They ate out, travelled, shopped and also took to pointing each other's bullshit. Alex would scold Paul over his habit of bringing guys over and Paul would scold Alex over her inability to form a serious commitment. Over the course of the years, Alex outgrew her fear of the outdoors and nature. She learned to appreciate art, music and theatre again, although she still maintained her abstinence from drawing and painting.
"I swear to God, Lex. The only serious relationship I've ever seen you in is the relationship you have with your job." Paul commented albeit drunkenly, one night.
"At least my career won't wake up one day and decide to leave me." Alex laughed obviously intoxicated too.
"I know, my emotionally stunted friend." Paul faked crying and sniffing, crushing Alex's head in a hug. "Ow. Bitch." Alex muttered loud enough for Paul to hear,
"Who you calling 'bitch', bitch." And they proceeded to sing karaoke in their living room all night. They had finished three bottles of tequila all by themselves and by the time dawn approached, Alex had divulged her secret she had kept hidden for most of her life. She talked about her relationship with her mother, about Springdale, and for the first time in thirteen years—Middle Earth.
"Damn." Paul stared dumbfounded at what Alex shared,
"You believe me, right?" Alex vulnerability broke Paul at that moment, a glimpse of a small, fragile girl peeked through Alex tough, independent carefully built persona.
"If you believe they were real, then I believe you." Paul moved to sit beside his friend on the floor, both gazing out the balcony of Paul's room, the buzzing traffic their accompanying noise, even at dawn New York was relentless. "Was he at least cute though?"
Alex settled into a normal life. As normal as her mother wanted. Given that her mother had now washed her hands off of Alex's therapy, but had since found another angle of Alex's life that needed meddling. Alex as not getting younger and so she took it upon herself to set her daughter up with her various friends' sons. The ever social butterfly, it irritated Elizabeth to no end that her daughter ended up so far from being like her. It was to her happy surprise though when she found out her daughter was dating Viggo Garcia's long estranged son, Tom. Although from what Elizabeth had gathered, the man was hardworking and what clicked was the thought that Alex and Tom both work well together.
They were together for two years, before Tom decided to make Elizabeth's dream come true—Tom and Alex got engaged. Elizabeth watched in rapt panic as she slowly realized what her daughter was to do to the poor man when she saw Tom kneeling down on one knee and could not help herself from yelling 'yes'. The crowd that had gathered and the eruption of celebration and chorus of congratulations drowned out the glare Alex was sending her way.
You'll thank me one day, Elizabeth mused. She fully believed her daughter was ungrateful—yet again.
It was indeed a whirlwind of preparation for the fast approaching wedding. Caterers were booked, invitations were sent and the date set, the location picked out. Elizabeth was convinced that everything concerning her daughter's behavior throughout her teenage years had been eradicated, Elizabeth was giddy to have the engagement party and wedding reception happen at Fontanellato.
Aemilia was gracious enough to offer her estate, though the older woman was obviously sitting the event out due to health problems, Elizabeth could not have been more happier.
Alex and Paul dropped their bags on the foyer of the grand manor on the morning of their arrival, Emily graciously greeting them. The cold September air greeting them as soon as they landed in Param Airport. "Welcome back, Miss Alex. We have certainly missed you around here."
"Hello Emily, how are you?" Alex's kind but nervous smile was directed at her maid. Emily had already grown old, her hair had silver streaks and her eyes kind and welcoming. Alex was suddenly reminded of when Emily would chase her around the grounds when she was younger. Emily had been Old Franny's niece, the senior governess had been struck with cancer on Alex's sixth year and her Nana was gracious enough to have Franny live out her last days in Fontanellato and hire a personal Doctor for the old governess. Unfortunately, Franny's condition was diagnosed late and her cancer had already progressed to her other organs. She died surrounded by family, friends and colleagues. Even Nana was heartbroken about her. "I'm doing good, Miss. Let me have a look at you." Emily said as her brown eyes swept Alex up and down, "You have grown into a beautiful woman. Your grandmother would be so proud, she would not stop talking about you." Emily smiled,
"How is she?"
"Miraculously better this couple of days. She'd get better then she'd get worse, but I think the sun is starting to shine. She's adamant to see you as soon as you arrived—"
"Oh, sure. Where is she?" Alex heart breaking at the thought of her Nana's deteriorating health.
"Unfortunately, last I checked she was still resting. Here," proceeding to grab Alex's bag and Paul's, "Let us get you both settled, maybe later this afternoon when Miss Aemelia awakens, you can see her then."
"Okay. This is Paul by the way, my best friend and Maid of Honor." Reaching beside Alex to shake the maid's hand,
"Nice to meet your acquaintance, Sir."
"Pleasure is all mine." Giving the old woman a kind smile and following her into the large manor to their rooms.
It was half past four when Alex woke, the jet lag having caught up with her. She had not had a full night's rest. Until the very last minute before leaving for Italy, Alex had to settle last minute emergency at work that could not be postponed. Leaving New York in the middle of the night for the redeye flight to Parma in Italy—the closest airport to Fontanellato. Unfortunately, that meant a 72 hour travel with two stops in between.
Paul's room was located across from hers, on the same floor in the residential wing. The guests, meanwhile, were booked in countryside hotels. Even Tom was residing at one of the hotels, some wedding tradition that a groom should not see his bride days before the ceremony.
Alex still stayed in the same room, although she had jitters and the occasional round of nerves, Alex successfully tamed herself enough to endure the week-long stay. Moving to get a warm bath and change into the silk white long gown she had prepared for that night's engagement party. She was almost ready when she decided to look out her window. Her room did offer the best view of the labyrinth. Shivers ran down her spine at the view. From her position in her room it looked like nothing has changed. Her eyes catching something glinting in the distance—the tree! Alex jumped out of her window seat at the sight of the old Mallorn tree in the middle of the labyrinth. All of a sudden an idea struck in her mind. An itch that she could not scratch.
Surely it still wouldn't be there, right? There is no such world that existed beyond those woods. Jumping from her seat and deciding it would be best to finally put the ridiculous idea—of another world—to rest, Alex pulled the closest pair of boots she could find, along with her coat and bolting out of her door. Forgetting her engagement ring, and her phone—with five missed calls—on her bedside table.
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AN: yey! things are finally starting to take shape. so sorry again for the being gone for two weeks, i promise i already have the rest of the chapters drafted out, its just the process of editing and proof reading and so on that is taking a lot of time. i really hope you are enjoying the story thus far.
reviews, reviews! *wink*wink*