Disclaimer: all right, I think we all know the score on this. I do not own anything related to Lord of the Rings or Tolkien. That's all someone else's property. I'm just borrowing without financial compensation. But I would like to say thank-you to Tolkien for his imagination and drive to pen such a fantastical story.

And now...

*****

Time and Space

Chapter 11

I couldn't help but stare. I had never seen such a look on Legolas before that I didn't hardly know what to do. Continuing to stand and gawk, I barely registered that he was speaking on the telephone in a strange tongue.

His broad smile entranced me.

Standing for some time, I heard the strange language, marvelling at its fluidity. A few words seemed to convey large thoughts and ideas. Finally cluing in, I remembered that Legolas had used the same language the first night in the hospital. Only then, it was filled with fear and confusion. Now, though, it flowed easily, happily. Legolas clearly relished in speaking it again.

When he finally hung up, I noticed his hand linger a moment on the handle. He faced me.

"That was him, wasn't it?" The question barely needed asking.

"Yes," he replied, nodding. "It was Elessar."

"Then he got the message." Idiot. Of course he did.

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

His eyes focused on the window behind me, not really fixing on any one thing. I could see, though, that his joy at speaking with Aragorn was now subdued.

"Legolas, what did he say?"

He gently refocused on me, the sadness in his eyes nearly breaking me. "Arwen is not with him."

Was she on a trip? Did she leave him? Did she die? What? "What do you mean?"

He took a hesitant breath. "She did not arrive with him when Lausona enacted his magic." He stepped back. "She is...elsewhere."

Even though Arwen was Aragorn's wife, I could see that she meant a great deal to Legolas. I suppose we had both assumed that she had followed her husband in time. A disturbing thought then came. "If she didn't, then perhaps Gimli also..."

"Do not," he said softly. "Do not say the words."

Changing the subject, I asked what else Aragorn had said. That had improved Legolas' mood somewhat, though I could still sense his fear for his friends. Aragorn had indeed been in the photos and had been there to inspire Tolkien. Their friendship lasted for the rest of both of their lives. He now went by Aaron Ellis and lived in a small village outside of London, occassionally going to the university for guest lectures on twentieth century warfare and the like.

"He hoped beyond all hope that I or any other would contact him," Legolas continued. "Security, though, needed to be the utmost. Fear of Lausona discovering him kept him from being open about his whereabouts."

"But now you've found eachother." I smiled from across the motel table.

"Yes," he said with a light smile. "He informed me that he would fly in on the next available flight." His features became quizzical. "Aragorn is a great leader and healer, but he is no magician. I have nigh seen birds large enough to carry a man upon its back. How, then, can he 'fly' in?"

I only leaned back in the chair and sniggered.



"So now we are waiting for Aragorn's next message. He said that he was flying in, but I have no idea when he will actually be able to get in from London. Course, the bigger difficulty will arise once he gets here. I can only hope that all of the pains and trials Legolas has endured will not be in vain."

I put down the motel pen and closed my journal, gazing out the window to the highway beyond. My life had taken such a turn that I wasn't really sure where I was anymore. My faith in Legolas was now appearing to be well placed, but it didn't stop that little nagging doubt in the back of my mind: what then? What was to happen after Legolas and Aragorn meet?

Legolas was still in the bathroom, having just finished his shower. I had instructed him to put on some clothes before he opened the door as I didn't want a repeat performance. A smile appeared on my face; he was sometimes so innocent. How I wished more people were like that. Everyone now seemed so preoccupied with their own concerns and little lives that they failed to consider those around them. We went to work, came home and didn't open the door to anyone. Fear had driven us inward, habit made us stay there.

The smell of soap and clean brought me from my thoughts. I turned to see Legolas emerge from the small room, his hair still wet, but thankfully, with a towel around his waist. His glow remained and it gave me happiness. At least this one I could help.

"Feel better?" I asked, rising to put my journal in my duffle.

"Yes." He pulled his hand through his hair. "This place has a mist of dirt about it. It follows you, seeping into your pores, your every fibre of being." He looked me dead on. "Can you not feel it?"

"No," I shook my head. "But I notice when it's not there. When I go somewhere natural, pure." My thoughts flashed to a glen, in the full of summer with bright leaves, strong trees and a little creek running through. Birds chirped, small animals scurried and the early sun filtered down in playful shadows through the trees. I saw a statue a short distance away, its smoothness not having been worn through the ages. The work was so fine and detailed that it truly looked to be a real star fallen from the heavens. Just past it was another, this one of two people, lovers, held in a tight embrace. Their devotion to eachother was clearly seen in the subtle placement of hands, the turn of their heads. The feeling of peace and utter contentment filled my being.

"You are not alone."

The voice pulled me from the experience. Slowly blinking, I looked to Legolas, but he had his back to me. My voice failed me.

He slowly turned and for a moment, an instant, I felt as though I was back in that glen. His hair shimmered with the sun behind him, his skin as smooth as the statues. He took a step forward a question forming on his lips, but I heard nothing.

"Have faith in yourself that this is how the world is to play out."

And then I could see her. The voice. Her eyes were deep and shining. They struck me as being much like Legolas'. She, too, had the flawless skin, long limbs and beauty like that of Legolas. It was then that I realised who she was. I opened my mouth to speak, but hushed me with a smile. "Believe..." She began to fade. I reached to her, but she was gone.

"Wait!"

My head began to spin and I became disoriented. Taking a step back, I fell into the chair.

"Lin?" Legolas was immediately at my side. "Are you ill?"

I took a moment before answering, letting the dizziness subside. "That was strange," I breathed. I rubbed my forehead.

"You are pale. Come and rest upon the bed." He pulled me up and over to the bed, gently pushing me down. As much as I didn't like being so weak, I had to admit that lying down did feel good. The throbbing diminished and finally disappeared. Legolas held a glass of water for me. "Drink." It felt good going down.

"Thanks." I sat back against the headboard. "I'm feeling better now." He eyed me suspiciously, but said nothing.

He set the glass down. "Do you know what happened?"

I flashed to the female image, my eyes lighting up. "It was her! I saw..."

The ringing telephone interrupted me. We looked at eachother, then the phone and back again. "Aragorn!" we chimed in unison. Legolas picked up the receiver. "Elessar!" he exclaimed. The conversation then began, once again using that wondrous language. I was left to replay my "vision". It had been more, though. I felt as though I were really in that wood, smelling the freshness of it all, hearing the water trickle down, feeling the sun on my face. But how was that possible? And how in hell was it possible for me to have seen her? It was all confusing.



Aragorn's phone call was to inform us that he would be arriving late in the evening, his flight landing at 12:30 am. That left us about fourteen hours to get to the airport. Fourteen more hours for Legolas to wait, something he had difficulty with. He was desparate to see his friend, to be near him once again. I felt as though I were in a cage with an animal just waiting to be let free.

"C'mon," I called. "It's time to go." I grabbed my bag and headed out. After dumping my stuff in the car, I looked up to see Legolas exit the room. No matter how crowded that airport was going to be, he was going to stand out. And if those doctors were indeed looking for us, he needed to blend. I paused. Yeah, blending. He's an elf, for crying out loud! He uses words like "shant" and "wilt thou". Blending was going to be a trick.

But it was a trick that needed to be done. We pulled into a mall not long after leaving the motel. "But I do not understand what is the matter with my clothing," Legolas said as we entered the building.

"Take a look around you, Legolas," I replied, pointing to some people. "Do you look like them?"

"Of course not. I am an Elf. They are not."

"Exactly." We turned a corner. "Meeting Aragorn means being out in the open. You need to be as inconspicuous as possible." I stopped. "It's for your own safety."

He looked down at me, not entirely understanding. "My safety?" He then remembered. "From those who would take me to that horrible place."

I nodded. "Yeah, but I'm not going to let that happen." I tried to smile a reassurance, but I doubt it came through. "C'mon. Let's find something for you." I began walking. "And see if we can do something about those ears."

He touched his ears gently, feeling for some disfigurement. "But there is nary a thing the matter with them."

I only shook my head and smirked.



I discovered that Legolas was quite the fashion afficianado. He seemed to quite enjoy trying on different clothes and admiring himself in the mirror. He was very much taken with the tri-mirror set up, marvelling that he could see his back and side without having to do much turning. A stranger might think he was being vain, but I knew it was a novelty to him. So I watched and chuckled.

"And these are normal attire for males here?" he inquired, pulling the waist on the jeans.

I nodded. "Pretty much, though I think that those are the wrong size for you."

Four pairs later, we found ones that he could tolerate. "Too constricting," he had said. "I cannot leap or bend easily in them."

"They'll do for now. Besides, I doubt you'll have much need for leaping anytime soon." I handed him some shirts to try. He only looked at them, not overly pleased. "You don't like the colours?"

He shook his head, his mood changing. "It is not that. I only wonder..." He took a deep breath. "I only wonder if I will be required to wear such things for the rest of my days." His gaze pleaded with me to tell him that everything would be fine, that he would return home and his immortal life would return to normal.

What could I say?

"Let's just focus on now. We'll be meeting Aragorn soon enough. We'll get some answers then." I held out the shirts, hoping my weak smile had placated him enough for the moment.

He nodded then took the items. I sat down once again, thinking on his words. The idea behind them had swirled around in my own head before he spoke them. All I had to go on were her words, praying that they didn't fail us.



Sitting at the food court table, I couldn't help but marvel at how easily Legolas fit into the clothes of Men. He had chosen a pair of jeans and green khaki cargo pants with a couple of white t-shirts and a dark grey turtleneck. We didn't bother with new footware. He felt comfortable enough in his boots and I figured that new shoes would only bother him.

"Your world is engulfed in this material," he said lifting the plastic fork to eye level. "It permeates everything. Why is this?" His childlike face returned.

"Because it's easy to make and cheap to discard." I bit into my sandwich.

He shook his head, his hair falling around his face. "I do not think that the earth would easily consume such material." He fingered the tines. "It is unnatural."

"I know, but there's not much I can about that right now." I finished the sandwich and wiped my hands. "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded.

"Great." I went to stand, but Legolas touched my arm. I sat back down. "Is something wrong?"

"I would ask that of you."

"I'm fine, but we need to get going."

He only eyed me. "A few hours ago, you were not fine."

I shrugged. "That's not important. Right now, we need to get to the airport and not get spotted."

"Please, Lin, you have done much for me. More than can be expected of two people who have known eachother such a short time. Now it is my turn."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"What happened this morning? You appeared to be in some kind of trance. You called out, but not to me. To whom were you speaking?"

I sat back. Legolas was not going to let this go until I gave him some answers. "You're partly right. It was sort of a trance, but much more. I felt as though I was somewhere else. All my senses told me that I was far away from the motel, in a forest of some kind. I can't really explain it."

Legolas remained quiet.

"Then I saw her. Arwen."

The news was a bit of a shock to him. Well, a large shock. His straight back slumped a bit. His eyes left me, wandering, trying to comprehend how Arwen could have contacted me in such a strange way. But he never asked if I was sure that it was her or said that I was confused. He believed me.

We continued our drive to the city, Legolas maintaining his silence. Not until I pulled into a gas station to fill up the car did he speak.

"Once again, I must thank you."

I turned to him. "For what?"

"For giving me hope. Arwen is not lost to us, Aragorn and I. She exists still, though perhaps not in the form we would desire. And if she survived, then perhaps Gimli as well."

"I didn't really do much. She came to me."

He nodded. "Mm." He leaned his head against the seat. "We may by chance learn the reason for her contacting of you." He breathed out. "Until then...Elessar."



I was leery of being back in the city. Perhaps paranoid was a better term. I constantly checked over my shoulder waiting for the boys in white lab coats to jump all over us and drag us kicking and screaming to some insane asylum. I know, a little theatrical, but my concern wasn't. We were at risk being here so soon after our "escape".

Finding a parking space at the airport, we entered. The main entrance had a clear view to one of the landing areas. A plane was pulling in to his assigned spot and Legolas had a prime view. He stood frozen, his eyes nearly popping out. Only when it stopped did he breathe again.

"Hey, it's okay," I tried to comfort him. "That's an airplane. It won't hurt you."

He remained rooted, but his eyes weren't nearly as large.

People were beginning to bump into us. "We need to get out of the way." I carefully touched his arm and that seemed to pull him out of his fixation on the flying machine. We made our way down the terminal to a screen on incoming flights. It was still too early to tell if the plane would be early or late.

"Seems we have lots of time on our hands," I said. "If you'd like, we could go to the viewing area and watch the planes take off and land."

Not since the first few days in the hospital had I seen Legolas look scared. He swallowed hard. "Those machines," he started, "they are so..."

"Like I said, they won't hurt you." I had never really thought one way or the other about an airplane. They were just there, like the grass was green and the sky blue. A thought then occurred to me. "They go very fast."

This brought him back. He raised an eyebrow. "How fast?"



Legolas was nervous, a trait I never expected to see in an Elf. If Legolas and Arwen were representatives of their race, then calm, clarity, pride and refinement were in all Elves. I suppose, though, given the incredible situation he was in, I could accept his nervousness. He was in such a foreign environment that anything of the familiar would be looked upon with anticipation and excitement.

"You are sure this is the place?" he inquired.

"Yes. We checked the board four times already. Relax. He'll be here soon."

He stood by the floor to ceiling window scanning the skies, reminding me of his time in the ward. This time, though, his appearance was joyful, glowing, alive. Something caught his attention and he focused on the incoming light. "It is him. I can feel it." He touched the glass.

Now I was beginning to be nervous. I mean, I was about to meet the man who had inspired a writer to write one of the greatest works of the twentieth century (which I must read very soon). A man, according to Legolas, deserving of devotion and loyalty beyond time and space. Somehow just saying "Hi" was inappropriate. Do I bow?

"Flight 3824 from London Heathrow is now landing," the speaker voice called.

Legolas looked up at the ceiling then at me his eyes hoping. I nodded. "Yes, that's his flight." He turned his attention back to the window, watching the plane touch down and taxi to its position.

"C'mon." I tugged on his sleeve. "We'll meet him at the entrance."

Reluctantly, he left the window. I could almost see the glow about him become brighter. His feet barely touched the floor as we made our way over. He seemed to glide across.

A few minutes later, the door opened and the first passengers came through. A small crowd had gathered in anticipation of meeting friends or loved ones. Legolas was in the front while I held back. More people came through, hugs and laughter ensuing. The crowd thinned until only a few remained. Legolas remained vigilant. Only when he was the last one did he look to me, his expression heartbreaking. I stood next to him, unable to say anything. Words were pointless for consolement.

"I was so sure," he whispered. He looked once more at the closed doors. "I felt him."

The doors opened once more. An older man appeared, came through, then stopped. The two men stared at eachother, neither moving. Moments passed this way, until he dropped his bag.

"Legolas," he breathed.

To be continued...





Note: 1) Sorry for the long delay. This chapter was especially difficult to get started. My muse seems to be toying with me. I have the entire story pretty much planned, it's just the details the muse likes to foul up. Eh. Not much I can do about that...

2) To those who have e-mailed me and wondered where a reply is, I likely didn't receive it. If you want to write something only to me, please put the fic name in the subject line so I won't delete it, thinking it's junk mail. To Valerie, love the new pic. That's pretty much how I pictured him in that scene. Ithilien, I'm not sure who this "Kate" person is you referred to in your latest review... ;) To my other reviewers, I thank-you for taking the time to share your thoughts and ideas. Oh, Arwyn, I haven't forgotten you. I will respond to your mail.