Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien characters, and I never will. I am just borrowing them for my own pleasure…Mel is mine though…
A/N : In the beginning, I was quite surprised that people bothered to read my fic, never mind review it! So much so that now I've become addicted to your reviews - lol, so keep them coming!!!!
~ 6. A Glimmer in the Water ~
The mutual reticence between my travel companions and myself was slowly abating and after the first few days I found myself spending increasingly more time with Legolas. He seemed to delight in telling me countless stories and I was astounded at the amounts of experience he possessed. After thousands of years of life he had no cynicism or boredom; he viewed life as a gift yet sadly, he had no children or a family of his own. I admired the quality and enthusiasm with which he spoke about the most trivial and inconsequential things.
He described Mirkwood, the place of his childhood, at length. I learned more about the ways of Wood elves in the first days than I could have by reading dozens of books.
In the beginning I admired his inner harmony, his integrity and candor. Yet I saw him stalking his quarry one day when he bid me to accompany him and I understood that this graceful creature, gifted with the looks of a god, could be a merciless hunter. I had no doubt about his speed and ruthlessness in battle. He moved like a dancer, his every step flowing into the next, the economy of movement and the fluidity that he seemed infused with incomparable with that of any human. I found myself secretly admiring how the wind sometimes played in his hair which was braided much like my own, yet strangely never out of place.
In the corner of my eye I saw how Aragorn and Gandalf painstakingly ignored us, and Legolas laughed.
'Do not take notice, Mel. My old friends believe I am under your spell.'
'That's funny. Some witch I am' I sighed 'when I can't even help myself.'
I avoided discussing what he called 'my purpose' though he often asked questions about my world and I explained everything as best I could, including about my favorite pastime.
'Surfing' Legolas mused ' It sounds so dangerous and so breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. And to be all alone in the sea, that is quite a feat.'
'It is exhilarating' I agreed. 'I learnt to surf as a child and its second nature to me. I love the ocean and the waves. I feel in control yet swept away at the same time.'
He was fascinated by what I had told him, the notion alien yet appealing at the same time.
'You'd like it too, I'm sure' I added and tried hardest not to imagine this superb specimen riding the waves on a surfboard.
'I have never beheld the sea in spite of living many lives of men in this world.' His eyes searched the depth of the horizon as for the first time in my life I understood what was meant by wanderlust. 'One day,' he continued 'when my travels take me there, I will remember the tale you told me'
While this fondness I was developing towards Legolas was enjoyable, it was going to remain exactly that and shape into nothing more. I appreciated his attention yet I perceived that the way he was regarding me had nothing to do with infatuation or even remotely resembled attraction. His gaze was open, pleasant but mostly it was curious and I had no reasons to doubt his honesty. There were no sidelong glances, or undertones of any kind, I never felt his gaze examining my body, and any compliments he paid me seemed purely observation on his part.
There was a lot more to him than I saw or believed or that I was willing to explore, for that matter. My life was complicated enough….
A week into the journey, my companions decided that I had become reliable enough to carry a weapon. Legolas handed me a long white-sheathed knife, one of a pair that he kept on him at all times. It was beautifully crafted and undoubtedly deadly.
'For your protection' he said closing my hand around it. I assumed it was a gift, from the puzzled look Aragorn gave him.
'Thank you, Legolas. It's beautiful' I said, trying to accept it gracefully and not let on that I would be more of a danger to myself handling this exquisite weapon than to whoever might attack me.
I unsheathed the knife halfway and admired its shiny blade. 'There is a belief in one of the countries of my world that a knife or a sword should never be unsheathed unless they are going to be used.*' I tried to steer the discussion away from my non-existent blade skills all the while hoping that I would never truly have to pull this knife out in defense.
'That is very wise indeed' Legolas reflected.
'Are you accustomed to such weapons, Mel?' Aragorn asked, as if reading my mind.
'I am not a warrior' I admitted as I asked myself how best to explain my way of life to them. 'In my world, I am a lawyer' It seemed so difficult to translate what I had always taken for granted in my life.
'Lawyer' Gandalf pronounced it 'loya' as he smoked his pipe and listened to my inept explanation.
'It's really nothing special,' I said as I finished ' There are a lot of lawyers in my world. Too many, if you ask me.'
'That means there is a lot of squabble in your world.' Aragorn drew the wise conclusion.
'Too much,' I agreed 'and over silly things, mostly. But I shouldn't complain, that is what keeps a roof over my head.'
'What is the chief cause of discord in your world then?' Gandalf wanted to know.
'I'd have to say greed, the desire for power at all cost and intolerance that leads to hatred' I answered.
'Not so different than in our world' Gandalf sighed.
'Well' the wizard said with sudden liveliness, 'now that you have Legolas' knife, you will no doubt want to be hunting tomorrow.' We all laughed.
'In that case' I replied 'we'd better eat our fill now, because tomorrow we will no doubt go hungry'
They all laughed good-naturedly, no trace of derision or contempt in their attitude. I was touched by their straightforward manner and truthfulness.
'I find it odd that you have to keep a house by yourself' Aragorn interjected. 'How about your family, who looks after them?'
'I have no family to speak of, except maybe Tamara who is like a sister to me' I sighed. 'My parents live far away and I am unmarried.' I added striving to sound casual. 'It is quite common for women my age to be unmarried. We are too busy for romantic entanglements.' I chuckled uncomfortably. I was not used to laying my life bare in front of strangers or explaining my choices yet I realized that none of them passed judgment on me of any kind. While I was forever suspicious of them…
They were not primitive in their thinking. Their world was just ordered in a different manner.
The next morning I woke before everyone else. We had camped close to a small lake and I had decided to attempt an early morning swim. I needed to feel water on my body, to wash off some of the sweat and dust that matted my hair.
The lake was no more than a pond, yet judging by the dark green hue of the water, it was reasonably deep. The sun was still hidden behind the hills that were getting steeper and steeper as we advanced in our journey. The air still smelled fresh, but its purity was marred by a harsh, stark quality. I expected that we had been slowly climbing and the altitude was changing the texture of the air as well. I was used to living at sea level and this potent air made me feel more exhausted that normal.
I found a secluded spot on the far side of the lake and started peeling off my clothes. I stared into the still surface before I touched the water and my pale face and body brought all the memories of what Tamara had said flooding back. I had been traveling in the sun for days and by now I would have to at least restore some the sun kissed color on my face.
Only the truth was that I was lying in a coma in a hospital ward, not walking in the sun and the cool morning air, the mountain lake, and everything that surrounded me in majestic beauty was in fact a crafty computer-generated illusion.
I wished the self-pity away as I dived in and the thermal shock that ran through my body helped to achieve that. I plunged underwater nevertheless and swam forcefully towards the other side.
Before long, I had warmed up while my body reveled in the chilly water that swathed it. My pallid skin made an odd contrast in the clear green water. I could not see the bottom yet my eyes caught a faint beacon-like glint, somewhere in the depth. Intrigued, I sunk under the surface, eyes open, struggling to distinguish shapes. There was no plant or animal life.
Only the dance of light in the water and the golden glow that emanated from the depth… I swam deeper, the glimmer closer and closer yet I was unable to make out what it was. I had to go up for air while the pressure of the depth manifested itself by a painful throb in my ears… yet my body seemed to submit entirely to the strange curiosity. I thought… just a little deeper…maybe I'll see what it is…
It was so close now, and while my lungs begged for air, my mind willed my body to go on. Whatever it was, it faintly resembled a coin at the bottom of a wishing well
So positive that I could hold out for a few more seconds before my heart burst from the effort, I was oblivious to the darkness that surrounded me as I sank deeper and the light now shimmered stronger than ever… I have to breathe…swim up! I saw the bottom…it was so close now… I stabbed out my arm blindly… and suddenly it was gone and I was left clutching at the muddy bottom, my air supply finished while my body was already becoming sluggish and unresponsive….swim up! One last ounce of strength left and I kicked violently against the bottom as I whirled my arms and shot to the surface.
Don't panic! I forced myself to think as my lungs screamed from the abuse and after what seemed an eternity I broke the surface, sucking the air in big choking gasps. I floated awhile, like I always did when I was exhausted in the water, not having the strength to move. Never in my life had I been so close to drowning and I'd had some close calls when surfing…Black and yellow splotches swam before my eyes and I prayed I would not pass out and force my companions to rescue me. I also did not wish to have to offer any explanations for my rash behavior.
Soon enough the world came back into focus and the nausea was replaced by uncontrollable sobs. There was no golden relic at the bottom of the lake, save a dance of sunlight in the water that had appealed to me as a possible way out. Maybe I should have lingered there a moment longer, half-drowned as I was and maybe that would have been enough to start a chain reaction that would return me – awake! – to my world…
I swam back agonizingly slow and washed my face several times trying to obliterate any signs of the dreadful experience before I staggered towards the camp.
~~
Several days into our voyage, I found that I was able to keep my eyes open for a while after we ate dinner and being naturally curious, I began asking questions. The exchange of stories became a pleasant past time before we settled own for the night. Yet as we talked, it became more and more clear that my memory was slowly failing me.
It started with little things, like the layout of my house, my bedroom curtains, the color of my floor tiles… they were gone. Then it was the location of my house, the name of my city, ….my favorite color. Then came the one that disturbed me the most: Tamara's face. I knew about her, she was still in my head, but if I closed my eyes no matter how hard I concentrated, I could not picture her face. I remembered she had blue eyes, sad blue eyes, I remembered her being there the day I woke up in Lorien, yet she was as faceless to me now as any stranger.
I wept long into the night the day Tamara's face finally faded completely from my memory and when I realized that I did not even recall what a lawyer was supposed to be doing, let alone how I had managed to be one all those years.
I still slept some distance away from the rest so when I got up and started pacing around, Gandalf, who was keeping watch for the first part of the night, noticed the state I was in. I also realized that I could not hide my memory loss for much longer. It was a matter of time before the others would notice and suspicion would arise if I left it unexplained. Gandalf's voice snapped me out of my contemplation.
'You are troubled, Mel' It was a statement, not a question and it brought fresh tears to my eyes.
I was silent for a while as I sat down next to him.
'Do you mind?' I said as I stretched out my hand and took hold of his pipe.
'Not at all, I saw you watching us smoke and I was wondering when you would ask. Do women smoke in your world?' Gandalf smiled amiably as he handed me the unusually long pipe.
'Some of them do.' I answered. 'This one certainly does.'
For all its uncanny shape, the pipe tasted rich and sweet, the smoke soothing and warm. I knew better than to ask what was in it.
'I'm losing my memory, Gandalf' I said despondently, feeling guilty for laying this on him. 'And I don't know how to deal with it, I don't know if it means that my brain is shutting down in the… other world?' For a moment I loathed sounding overly dramatic.
'Forgetfulness-' the old wizard said, his voice gentle. 'I wish I could tell what it means. It could mean a lot of things.'
He studied my face 'I do not think it is all bad or that something is happening to you in your world.'
'I can't think of a better explanation' I tried to sound detached but without success, I could hear it in my own quivering voice.
'I can.' Gandalf said, a benign look in his intense gray eyes. 'You are justified to have these fears.'
The gentle old man I had only glimpsed before was there again and it felt comforting to talk to him
'You are learning about this world that is so unlike your own and your mind is opening up to change. This in itself is a good sign. Many races of this world, even the Firstborn, the Elves, are so unwilling to adapt that they prefer fading away and leaving Middle-Earth rather than welcoming change.'
'I don't understand. Could I be learning more about this world because I have no chance of going back?'
'That I do not know.' Gandalf replied somewhat regretfully. 'But you can choose to deem this experience encouraging and find some hope in it'
'I don't think I can do that.' I said staring fixedly into the dying fire. 'I have to believe there is a way back to my world, but if I cannot remember where that is, there will be nothing for me to hold on to.'
I still clutched Gandalf's pipe, drawing the smoke into my lungs frantically like a condemned prisoner before his execution.
'You were sent here with a purpose. And I believe that this purpose will be revealed to you sooner than you think.'
"You don't understand" I wanted to scream only I bit my lip until I tasted blood "this world that you call your own… it doesn't exist, Gandalf…. I am just imaging it…none of us are really here…"
Instead I said, 'I don't know who I am anymore…'
Tears of rage at the unfairness of it all burned my cheeks, as a massive wave of nausea racked my stomach. I understood that I could never voice my thoughts. How would I ever be able to share what I knew with a certainty that was more undeniable than my life itself? It was the one thing I remembered clearly, the one thing burned in my memory like hot iron buried into living flesh. It was always going to be there, until I drew my last breath... I was lost here, in my own mind, imagining all this.
TBC
A/N *: The Japanese believe that a samurai sword should only be fully unsheathed if it is to be used. That is what Mel referred to when she got Legolas' knife.
In case you were wondering about Mel's memory loss, the explanation will be in the next chapter!
