Disclaimer: I don't anything Tolkien and I'm not making a tidy little sum of money, or any sum for that matter. The bit about coffee has been changed. Sorry, haven't read The Hobbit yet.



Time and Space

Chapter 13



I awoke quite refreshed the following morning to find that Legolas had disappeared. Before I started panicking, though, I reminded myself that his closest friend was in the room next door. Rising and pulling on some street clothes, I went out and knocked on Aragorn's door. When he didn't answer, my heart quickened a little. Probably just gone for some breakfast, I tried to tell myself. I crossed the street to the diner. Upon entering, I was blasted with the smell of refried grease and the sizzle of bacon.

Looking around, I couldn't find either Aragorn or Legolas, not that I would have expected the Elf to be here. I could just imagine what his reaction to such a place would be. I was about to leave when a voice called out.

"Kaitlin!" I turned left to see a hand waving.

Aragorn.

Striding quickly over, I sat in the booth he had chosen, overlooking the highway. He smiled a me. "Beautiful morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. Very." I paused. "You had me a little worried though."

"I do apologise for that. As you were sleeping so soundly, I thought it best not to disturb you." He drank the last of his coffee. "Coffee in Middle Earth was nothing such as this." He set the cup aside. "Probably a good thing." He then looked me directly in the eye, his mildly jovial tone now replaced with a serious one. "I am glad we met, just you and I, here...now."

I was unsure how to take that comment. "Where is Legolas?"

"He is behind the motel, in the small forest there. Mornings in the woods were always his favourite time of the day."

"That isn't why you wanted to speak to me alone."

"No," he sighed. The waitress stopped to refill his coffee and ask if I wanted anything. Tea was about all I craved at the moment, at least in that place.

Aragorn grabbed the sugar and poured two spoonfulls into the black liquid, slowly, methodically stirring it in. His actions were those of someone not focused on the task at hand. His eyes were far away, glazed. Taking the spoon out, he tapped it twice on the rim then carefully set it on the table. "You are a healer," he finally said looking at me once more with penetrating eyes.

My own eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes."

"A psychiatrist."

"Yes."

"What is your assessment of Legolas? You are his physician, the one who has helped him thus far. What is his condition?"

"Why do you want to know?"

He leaned back in the seat. Dignity was most certainly there. You could easily see how this man could be a king. But I noticed a tinge of sadness also.

"It's Gimli," I finally said. "You know what happened to him."

He sighed. "So you know of the Dwarf Gimli, son of Gloin."

"A little. Legolas didn't say much about him, but I gathered that they were very good friends."

He nodded. "Indeed."

"Why haven't you told Legolas then? He's been desparate to find him since he made contact with you."

Aragorn only remained silent. And that's when I realised the truth. Why he was avoiding telling Legolas about his companion.

"So I ask you, is he well enough to learn the truth?"

Images floated through my mind of meeting Legolas that first time in the ward, his vigil in front of the window, his encounters with the guards, the look on his face upon learning that he was no longer in Middle Earth nor with his friends. No, that Legolas would not accept bad news at all.

But I also remembered the Legolas who marvelled and relished being in a tree, who loved to go fast to feel the wind in his hair, who looked with wonder and amazement at the simplest things. That Legolas might.

"As a psychiatrist, I would say that the truth is always best, no matter how painful. It shows trust and respect."

Aragorn took a breath.

"But what you're asking is if he is ready to deal with the truth and all its ramifications. As a professional, I would say no. He's been through enough trauma the last week to fill a lifetime, even an immortal one."

"Ah." His expression softened somewhat. He was disheartened. "I suppose my expectations were a little too high. Legolas has, after all, only been in this world for but a week. I..." He stared out the window. "I, on the other hand, have had many years to come to terms with this place." He took another drink.

"But as his friend, and if I were in his place, I would want to know. If he and Gimli were as close as I think they were, then you owe it to him to tell him."

"Do you know anything about Elves, Kaitlin of Men?"

This was a bit of a turn. "Only what I've seen with Legolas."

"There are really only two ways for an Elf to die. One is in battle or something like it. They can be fatally struck down. The second..." He faced me once more. "...is from grief." His eyes momentarily glazed over, remembering. "I would save Legolas from that fate if I could."

We sat a long while in that diner, not speaking, only looking out the window to the world. What could I say to him? Only he could judge whether or not to tell Legolas of Gimli's fate. Only he knew Legolas well enough to determine how well he could cope with that information. I did not envy Aragorn that decision.

With an unexpected suddenness, Aragorn rose. "I cannot delay any longer. Far too much time has passed already." He left some money then quickly left the diner. I jumped up to follow him, knowing that he meant to tell Legolas.

"Wait!" I called crossing the road. He stopped and turned.

"My mind is set, Kaitlin."

I could see the determination on his face. "I'm not trying to stop you. I just want to know if there's anything I can do to help."

He smiled and rested his hand on my shoulder. "You have done much already." Looking down at me, I could understand how people would follow him to the ends of the earth. His confidence and surity were contagious, but lacking in arrogence. "But perhaps, if you are willing, you can stand with Legolas. I can see that he has gained strength because of you. He trusts and respects you."

I smiled back, but it faded as I saw the figure come up behind Aragorn. "Legolas."

Aragorn steeled himself then turned. "Good morning, Legolas."

The Elf's entire body changed in mood from joyful contentment to impending dread. "Why don't we go inside?" I jumped in. "I would like to hear more of Aragorn's stories, about how he met Tolkien and the Lord of the Rings story." For a moment, no one moved, the feeling of dread now coming into me, until Aragorn smiled lightly. "Yes. Another story. Come, Legolas." He stepped forward then waited for his friend to follow. Hesitantly, the Elf joined him.

And then we were in Aragorn's room with a gnawing fear inside me that Legolas was not going to react well to the story.



"The war continued on," Aragorn began, "but it did not last forever. When we were allowed to return home, I was left at a crossroads. Having no home to return to, I had no idea of where to go. It was then when Johnny inquired about my predicament.

'You must come with me, Aragorn, to continue your fantastical story.'

He took me by the shoulders and we boarded the ship to England."

Aragorn stopped to look at us. "You must understand that during those most difficult times, comradery and loyalty were of utmost importance. We had been there for eachother for so long that it was natural to continue even after battle." He took a sip of coffee. "Johnny and I had become quite good friends, so much so that I felt I could confide in him my situation. He laughed, of course, not fully believing me. Of course hearing such a tale from a soldier would have been absolutely ludicrous, but something in him allowed him to believe me. He took bits and pieces of the Fellowships adventures in Middle Earth and scribbled them on some note paper. Often, he would offer his own take on them, adding and deleting what he thought was appropriate."

Aragorn fell silent. He sat back in the motel chair and crossed his hands in his lap, deep in thought. The room was just as silent.

"Elessar," Legolas said in a hushed voice, "if the thoughts are too painful to continue..."

This brought him out of his meditation. "No," he sighed, "I will go on." He straightened. "So I followed Johnny back to England."

My eyes narrowed. "What about papers? Documents? How did you cross the border?"

He smiled. "Back then, no one really looked at such things. Remember also, that I was dressed as a soldier, a hero of the war. No one would think to question my identification. And with an officer to support me, papers meant nothing. The war also made the excuse of losing my identification an easy one to allow me to create my own identity."

"Aragorn Elessar," I said.

"Yes," he nodded. "Within six months, I was a full member of English society, no questions asked. Johnny made sure of that."

He took another drink. "I stayed on with him, providing him with much history and knowledge of Middle Earth. He absorbed it greedily, writing very nearly everything I said. In return, he allowed me to live on his family's estate. In many ways, I was lucky to have landed in that war at that time. Anywhere else and I may have faired much worse." He eyed Legolas, but said nothing else.

"The years went along quite quickly," he continued. "Johnny met a woman, married and had children of his own. All the while he continued his note taking. I could see that he was formulating something with all of those notes of his. Not until the next war was nearly upon us did he relay his plans to me: the creation of an English mythology. I laughed at him.

'Johnny,' I said, 'who would read such things? Only a few people are as you and interested so intently in history.'

'Ah, have faith, my friend,' he replied. 'If you create the world first then fill it with adventure, people will read.'

He began modestly with a small book on the Hobbits and other races of Middle Earth. Not even he could have guessed at the response."

"So that came before The Lord of the Rings," I asked more than stated.

"Yes. It was something of a test. No doubt he would have finished his trilogy much sooner, but the war came. And so much more..." He gazed absently out the window, the morning sun now turning to midday. The world was rapidly losing its glow to the harsh, eye-squinting blindness of the afternoon sun.

I had nearly forgotten that Legolas was in the room. He sat cross legged on the bed, almost motionless. I turned to him, but found that I had nothing to say. Yet, for some reason, I felt a need to comfort him. Aragorn's story was indeed interesting, but I believe Legolas was finally gaining the true understanding, the deeper meaning behind it: he couldn't go home.

"And so the series of books was released," Aragorn continued. "People far and near took great interest in them and Johnny was inundated with people wanting to know more. His desire to create an English myth succeeded.

As for me, I still yearned for home. To be amongst those I held most dear. My time with Johnny had failed to yield any results as to why I was brought here or how to return. Johnny was understanding and did what he could, but even all his knowledge was of little value in this situation. I continued on as best I could, giving lectures about weaponry and war, offering my services to the university whenever possible. This life was acceptable, but not desired.

Then a miracle happened."

I noticed a tiny movement from Legolas. He leaned forward ever so slightly not wanting to miss what his friend was about to say. Aragorn looked at the Elf before proceeding.

"I saw her," he said simply.

Legolas' eyes widened, locked onto Aragorn's. I didn't want to disturb the moment, but I wanted to know if my suspicions were right.

"Arwen," Legolas whispered.

Aragorn nodded. "In a vision I saw her. She spoke to me, giving me at least some answers."

"What did she say?" I couldn't hold myself back any longer.

Aragorn turned to me. "She told of how strongly and deeply her love for me remained. Though she could not be with me again, she held me in her heart and this lightened her thoughts. I, too, told of my continued devotion to her. But of course, I needed to know what became of us." His eyes saddened. "That is when she told me of the son of Gloin." He once again peered towards Legolas.

"Elessar, please," Legolas begged, "you must not keep me in the dark on this matter! What has become of Gimli, friend of the Elves?"

Aragorn rose to sit next to Legolas, putting his hand on the Elf's. "The news I have causes me to fear for you, Legolas. Promise me that you will not react hastily, not do anything you may come to later regret."

With a deep breath, Legolas steeled himself. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Aragorn quickly looked at me then began.

"Gimli," he said quietly, "is not with us."

Legolas' eyes narrowed. "I do not understand."

Aragorn wet his dry lips. "He has crossed over to join those who came before him." He swallowed. "Gimli is dead."

To be continued...



Note: thanks, Ithilien, on the coffee faux pas. Thanks also to K.T. Welsh for the long review and to all others who have reviewed. Some of you may not like this turn of events, but I don't think it was completely unexpected. So no rotten tomatoes my way, okay?