Disconnected

Chpt 8.

            "I see," he said and turned back to the conversation that was already in progress between him, Elrond and King Thranduil of Mirkwood.

            I was seated, (surprise, surprise) next to Legolas, Gimli to the other side of him.

            "You look fair, lady," Gimli said, leaning around the elf to see me.

            I smiled and thanked him quietly.  I'm not exactly the most gracious person, but I try my best. 

I looked around the table.  There were more people than I thought there was going to be.  The upper half of the table I had mostly met, give or take a few men or elves.  The lower half I didn't know, but maybe I would later.  All in all I estimated about twenty in the party.  I felt so out of place as everyone talked of what they had been doing, and about their children and distant relations.  Instead of joining the festivities, I looked down at my hands, and hummed a few tunes from Limp Bizkit, and Nirvana.

"Jonica!"  Yelled my father from across the table, noticing my loneliness.

"Jonny!"  I yelled back, he should know my name by now.

"Lord Aragorn tells me you've made a new friend at the stables," he said, ignoring my correction.

"Yeah, he's a horse, his name is Aaron.  Can I keep him?"

"It is not mine to give," he told me.

"Bite me!"  I folded my arms and crossed my legs and refused to acknowledge his existence.

"Never have I met a child so insolent, that she would talk to her father in a way that none speaks to anyone," commented Legolas, staring disapprovingly at me.

"Now you have," I retorted.

"She looks like a rose, but bites like a snake," Gimli put in.

"Oh, honey, I haven't bitten yet."

Legolas said something in "The Language" to himself more than anyone.  I had to stop him in order to keep me in control of the argument.

I thought desperately for something to say that would shut him up.  Ahh, here it goes… "You saw me naked," I said hurriedly.  I got the reaction I was after; Legolas and Gimli looked at me, then at each other.

"She wore a cloth," he defended himself.

"Not much of one."

"She opened the door."

"You were yelling at me."

"She wasn't getting dressed."

"Someone stole my clothes."

"They are being cleaned."

"I was waiting for them."

"You had a gown," he turned to me.

"I don't like it."

"But are you not wearing it?"

I looked down at it and back up at him.  I cracked a smiled and started laughing.  "You win," I said through my hysterics, "You win."

"You are strange," he said while shaking his head.

"Thank you," I replied, "I try my best."

"Ah, finally.  A meal fit for Hobbits," said someone a few seats from me.  He had brown hair, and he looked to be a little shorter than Gimli.  Chuckles followed the comment.  Must be an inside thing.

In came plates and plates of food.  Set before me was a gigantic roast of something.

I yelped and stood up quickly, knocking over my chair.

The table fell silent.

"Jonica?"  My father asked.

"Padre!  Tu es muy loco!  What the manglo is this?  Is it dead?"  I slipped into my dialect, which consists of Spenglish, nonsense words, and cussing.  Something that is bound to happen when you live in California.

"It's meat Jonny, yeah it's dead," he said annoyed.  Then a look of wonder fell upon his face as he realized that-yes, I am a strict vegetarian.  And I had been for ten years now.  "I'm sorry Jonny," He apologized.

"It's ok, if you actually spent time with me, then you would've remembered," I said, being completely serious.

Hurt, my father asked for some cheeses and bread, and cooked vegetables if it was possible.

"If you are not an elf, then how could you and your father speak across the table as if you were standing next to each other?"  Asked Gimli.

Vampires, we have better hearing than you, I thought, but said nothing.

a[Z~saiyan-girl-cheetah, yeah, sorry I didn't really explain.  The "Common Tongue" or "Our Language" I refer to is Completely made up inside my head.  Sometimes I don't know what it means.  But it's not common for everything…just demons.  Heehee. You'll understand as I keep writing.  "Créo sé pín shay na, Jonica" roughly means, "knock it off or I'll beat it off, Jonica".  As you can see it's not a very polite language, mostly because demons are the ones that made it up.  So if something is nasty, and I don't feel like censoring, I'll just use "Common Tongue".