"Melamin, I have followed you. I found a way."
Andrea whirled, her face nearly as pale as his. Her mouth worked frantically, but nothing
came out. Then she burst into tears. In the midst of her sobs, she uttered a noise quite familiar
to Legolas; a noise that he had grown so used to while she had been in Mirkwood, and that he had
even come to miss after she had gone. It was a shriek not unlike that of a Nazgul, but it no
longer bothered Legolas.
"Legolas!" she cried desperately, and tackled him. "You came! You really came! You
followed me!"
"I-" Legolas was used to this, too: trying to speak while her squeezes forced him to
battle for breath. "Of... chwourse... hI followed... yo-hou," he managed in a valiant effort. "HI
swhore to-hoo, di-hidn't hI?"
The other young woman was by now on her feet. Her expression was half-incredulous,
half-accepting, but she made a brave attempt at peeling Andrea off of Legolas before he
suffocated.
"How did you GET here?" Andrea demanded, clinging even more firmly to her beau, as if by
doing so, she was preventing him from ever leaving.
"Hi have nhwo idhee-ha," Legolas replied in the manner of one telling all he knows and
pleading with the interrogator to cease the torture and skip ahead to the execution.
"Andrea! He won't be here any more if you strangle him to death!" shouted the other girl
sharply, still trying to pry Andrea off of the currently bug-eyed elf-prince.
"Mine!" Andrea squeaked at the top of her generous lungs. Legolas' acute sense of
hearing was completely overwhelmed; his head swam and his beautiful ears rang. Yet, this, too,
was a familiar and almost welcome sensation.
"I know he's yours. I don't want him," the second girl said firmly. "I just don't want
you to kill him. If you aren't going to let go of him, at least ease off a little. Purple elf
ears are rather a disturbing sight."
"I am hurting the Pretty One?" Andrea asked piteously, letting go of Legolas so suddenly
that he almost toppled over sideways. Her brown were huge and misted. If Legolas assented that,
yes, she had been hurting him, he and the other girl would have been faced with the challenge of
subduing a raging torrent of tears. Apparently Andrea's companion knew this just as well as
Legolas did.
"I didn't say that," she said sternly. "I said that you might hurt him if you didn't let
go."
"A-hactually, it's all right." Legolas admitted. Giving his Squee a smile.
The flood of tears still looked ominously imminent. Andrea then performed her second
favorite method of hugging. She slid so delicately into his arms that he could barely feel her,
then burrowed her face into his shoulder. His arms went round her, O! so tenderly. From somewhere
in a fold of his jerkin, her muffled voice mumbled something to the effect of:
"I can't believe you actually followed me."
"Um, guys," coughed Andrea's friend in an embarrassed tone, "there are some people
looking at Legolas in a rather surprised, incredulous manner. Perhaps we should postpone the
reunion until we've gotten him some... I hesitate to say 'normal' garments?"
Legolas looked up, startled.
"Have we met?"
"Ah, no, I apologize. My name is Sivi. I'm Andrea's roommate."
"You knew my name. How?" Legolas asked.
"The Quest of the Fellowship of the Ring is well known in our world, but" she paused and
regarded him as though sizing him up.
"But?" he pressed. Sivi sighed. Why did she always have to be the bad guy, the bearer of
bad news?
"Legolas... in this world, no one believes that the Quest to destroy the One actually
happened. No one here even believes that the One was actually forged. It's... only a legend."
Legolas stared at her as a million outraged thoughts filled his mind.
"What of the Elves in this strange world?" he asked angrily, his arms unconsciously
tightening around Andrea's shoulders. "Have they no knowledge of or belief in -" He broke off as
Sivi and Andrea winced simultaneously.
"Legolas," said Andrea quietly, "there... there aren't any."
Sivi shook her head as the elf's expression only became more confused. Andrea's effort to
take her beau's sharp, accusing eyes from Sivi's shoulders had been more than loyal, but...
Andrea did not want to lay it on the line, say it straight out, and that was what this situation
really called for. Gingerly, Sivi expounded,
"To my knowledge, Prince Legolas, you are the first and only elf ever to exist in this
realm."
Legolas felt himself grow cold and numb.
"You lie," he said. It was more of a plea than an accusation.
"No, she's not lying," Andrea piped up. "No one here believes that elves are real. Until
you came... they weren't."
"It's not true," Legolas whispered. Andrea led him worriedly around to sit on the bench.
Wearily, he sank down beside her.
"I am... the first," Legolas repeated sadly, unable to believe it.
"Are you all right?" Sivi asked gently, wishing that they had not had to tell him. Andrea
fretted and fawned on him, rubbing his arm, kneading his shoulder, and just generally massaged
the upper left side of his torso.
"I will be." Legolas said bravely, for Andrea's sake. Pausing, he added, "Is this why you
said that the passersby watched me so intently?"
"Well, it's mostly your clothes," Andrea said. "We can fix that.
"You, uh, might want to cover your ears, though." Sivi sugested.
"With what?" Legolas asked.
"Your hair," supplied Sivi. "If we take down your braids, it should serve to hide your
ear-tips."
"My... my ears are the only thing that would betray me? I am tall, pale -"
"Incredibly handsome," Andrea put in, tracing the ear closest to her with her finger.
"Humans in our world are extremely varied in appearance. There are men as tall as Elves
and men as short as Hobbits. Very few, but they do exist," Sivi pointed out. "Also, a world that
does not believe in Elves will not know very much about them. If someone sees you walking down
the street - in normal apparel - they won't think, 'Is that an Elf?' They'll only think you're...
different."
"Do as you will," Legolas nodded.
Nervously, Sivi undid the delicate, threadlike silver cord that bound the elf-prince's
intricately woven hair. The morning sun to their left shone in Legolas' hair like a bright, fiery
mirror. To Sivi, it seemed as if she were working with white-hot gold.
"Oooooo," Andrea said. "Can I help?"
With a nod, Sivi moved over so that Andrea could work on one side of the elf's braids
without stirring from her cherished seat by his side, while Sivi carefully unbraided the opposite
side. With a sigh, Sivi muttered,
"This day has been so weird."
"What is 'weird'?" Legolas asked.
"Extremely unusual."
"Ah. Yes," Legolas agreed softly.
Suddenly, Sivi giggled. Legolas, unsure of what was so amusing, sat still. Andrea cocked
her head and watched Sivi's giggles seem to bubble over the widespread fingers that held them
back. Privately, Legolas thought that Sivi was laughing so hard that she nearly resembled his
own Squee.
"I'm so sorry," Sivi gasped amidst her laughter.
"Share!" Andrea demanded.
Share what? Legolas thought.
"I can't... I can't," Sivi burbled.
In reality, she had been trying to imagine an elf in jeans, a T-shirt, and Nike's
drinking Pepsi and eating Domino's... maybe even wearing a ball cap. It was too hilarious to
think about.
"What is funny?" Andrea asked insistently.
"I can't... tell you," Sivi repeated, wiping her eyes.
"Sivi," Andrea said.
"Le lutin en vetements d'Etates Unis," Sivi said in French. Literally, it meant, "The elf
in clothes of the United States."
"What's a 'lutin'?" Andrea asked blankly. Sivi had never wanted to smack her friend quite
so hard.
"Je vais dire toi a peu pres," she said warningly: "I will tell you a little later."
"Pardon, Lady Sivi," Legolas said quietly. "Am I the butt of some joke?" Sighing, Sivi
put a hand on his arm.
"I meant no discourtesy, Prince Legolas," she said earnestly. "It is hard to imagine one
of your kind in the garments of our world."
Then Legolas began to laugh, a simple symphony all the more pleasing for the carefree and
joyous expression on the elf-prince's smooth white face.
"Is it hard for you?" he asked. "How much harder is it for me, think you?" Sivi smiled,
and their friendship was solidified. She was certainly no threat to Andrea, but she would from
then on be counted among his closest companions.
"I don't know," she answered, "but difficult or not, we have to do it. Andrea, are you
almost finished?"
Giggling herself, Andrea nodded,
"Yep. I'm done."
"Well, Prince Legolas," Sivi said, patting his shoulder with a wide grin, "let's see how
a noble son of Eryn Lasgalen handles the shopping centers of New York City."
Andrea whirled, her face nearly as pale as his. Her mouth worked frantically, but nothing
came out. Then she burst into tears. In the midst of her sobs, she uttered a noise quite familiar
to Legolas; a noise that he had grown so used to while she had been in Mirkwood, and that he had
even come to miss after she had gone. It was a shriek not unlike that of a Nazgul, but it no
longer bothered Legolas.
"Legolas!" she cried desperately, and tackled him. "You came! You really came! You
followed me!"
"I-" Legolas was used to this, too: trying to speak while her squeezes forced him to
battle for breath. "Of... chwourse... hI followed... yo-hou," he managed in a valiant effort. "HI
swhore to-hoo, di-hidn't hI?"
The other young woman was by now on her feet. Her expression was half-incredulous,
half-accepting, but she made a brave attempt at peeling Andrea off of Legolas before he
suffocated.
"How did you GET here?" Andrea demanded, clinging even more firmly to her beau, as if by
doing so, she was preventing him from ever leaving.
"Hi have nhwo idhee-ha," Legolas replied in the manner of one telling all he knows and
pleading with the interrogator to cease the torture and skip ahead to the execution.
"Andrea! He won't be here any more if you strangle him to death!" shouted the other girl
sharply, still trying to pry Andrea off of the currently bug-eyed elf-prince.
"Mine!" Andrea squeaked at the top of her generous lungs. Legolas' acute sense of
hearing was completely overwhelmed; his head swam and his beautiful ears rang. Yet, this, too,
was a familiar and almost welcome sensation.
"I know he's yours. I don't want him," the second girl said firmly. "I just don't want
you to kill him. If you aren't going to let go of him, at least ease off a little. Purple elf
ears are rather a disturbing sight."
"I am hurting the Pretty One?" Andrea asked piteously, letting go of Legolas so suddenly
that he almost toppled over sideways. Her brown were huge and misted. If Legolas assented that,
yes, she had been hurting him, he and the other girl would have been faced with the challenge of
subduing a raging torrent of tears. Apparently Andrea's companion knew this just as well as
Legolas did.
"I didn't say that," she said sternly. "I said that you might hurt him if you didn't let
go."
"A-hactually, it's all right." Legolas admitted. Giving his Squee a smile.
The flood of tears still looked ominously imminent. Andrea then performed her second
favorite method of hugging. She slid so delicately into his arms that he could barely feel her,
then burrowed her face into his shoulder. His arms went round her, O! so tenderly. From somewhere
in a fold of his jerkin, her muffled voice mumbled something to the effect of:
"I can't believe you actually followed me."
"Um, guys," coughed Andrea's friend in an embarrassed tone, "there are some people
looking at Legolas in a rather surprised, incredulous manner. Perhaps we should postpone the
reunion until we've gotten him some... I hesitate to say 'normal' garments?"
Legolas looked up, startled.
"Have we met?"
"Ah, no, I apologize. My name is Sivi. I'm Andrea's roommate."
"You knew my name. How?" Legolas asked.
"The Quest of the Fellowship of the Ring is well known in our world, but" she paused and
regarded him as though sizing him up.
"But?" he pressed. Sivi sighed. Why did she always have to be the bad guy, the bearer of
bad news?
"Legolas... in this world, no one believes that the Quest to destroy the One actually
happened. No one here even believes that the One was actually forged. It's... only a legend."
Legolas stared at her as a million outraged thoughts filled his mind.
"What of the Elves in this strange world?" he asked angrily, his arms unconsciously
tightening around Andrea's shoulders. "Have they no knowledge of or belief in -" He broke off as
Sivi and Andrea winced simultaneously.
"Legolas," said Andrea quietly, "there... there aren't any."
Sivi shook her head as the elf's expression only became more confused. Andrea's effort to
take her beau's sharp, accusing eyes from Sivi's shoulders had been more than loyal, but...
Andrea did not want to lay it on the line, say it straight out, and that was what this situation
really called for. Gingerly, Sivi expounded,
"To my knowledge, Prince Legolas, you are the first and only elf ever to exist in this
realm."
Legolas felt himself grow cold and numb.
"You lie," he said. It was more of a plea than an accusation.
"No, she's not lying," Andrea piped up. "No one here believes that elves are real. Until
you came... they weren't."
"It's not true," Legolas whispered. Andrea led him worriedly around to sit on the bench.
Wearily, he sank down beside her.
"I am... the first," Legolas repeated sadly, unable to believe it.
"Are you all right?" Sivi asked gently, wishing that they had not had to tell him. Andrea
fretted and fawned on him, rubbing his arm, kneading his shoulder, and just generally massaged
the upper left side of his torso.
"I will be." Legolas said bravely, for Andrea's sake. Pausing, he added, "Is this why you
said that the passersby watched me so intently?"
"Well, it's mostly your clothes," Andrea said. "We can fix that.
"You, uh, might want to cover your ears, though." Sivi sugested.
"With what?" Legolas asked.
"Your hair," supplied Sivi. "If we take down your braids, it should serve to hide your
ear-tips."
"My... my ears are the only thing that would betray me? I am tall, pale -"
"Incredibly handsome," Andrea put in, tracing the ear closest to her with her finger.
"Humans in our world are extremely varied in appearance. There are men as tall as Elves
and men as short as Hobbits. Very few, but they do exist," Sivi pointed out. "Also, a world that
does not believe in Elves will not know very much about them. If someone sees you walking down
the street - in normal apparel - they won't think, 'Is that an Elf?' They'll only think you're...
different."
"Do as you will," Legolas nodded.
Nervously, Sivi undid the delicate, threadlike silver cord that bound the elf-prince's
intricately woven hair. The morning sun to their left shone in Legolas' hair like a bright, fiery
mirror. To Sivi, it seemed as if she were working with white-hot gold.
"Oooooo," Andrea said. "Can I help?"
With a nod, Sivi moved over so that Andrea could work on one side of the elf's braids
without stirring from her cherished seat by his side, while Sivi carefully unbraided the opposite
side. With a sigh, Sivi muttered,
"This day has been so weird."
"What is 'weird'?" Legolas asked.
"Extremely unusual."
"Ah. Yes," Legolas agreed softly.
Suddenly, Sivi giggled. Legolas, unsure of what was so amusing, sat still. Andrea cocked
her head and watched Sivi's giggles seem to bubble over the widespread fingers that held them
back. Privately, Legolas thought that Sivi was laughing so hard that she nearly resembled his
own Squee.
"I'm so sorry," Sivi gasped amidst her laughter.
"Share!" Andrea demanded.
Share what? Legolas thought.
"I can't... I can't," Sivi burbled.
In reality, she had been trying to imagine an elf in jeans, a T-shirt, and Nike's
drinking Pepsi and eating Domino's... maybe even wearing a ball cap. It was too hilarious to
think about.
"What is funny?" Andrea asked insistently.
"I can't... tell you," Sivi repeated, wiping her eyes.
"Sivi," Andrea said.
"Le lutin en vetements d'Etates Unis," Sivi said in French. Literally, it meant, "The elf
in clothes of the United States."
"What's a 'lutin'?" Andrea asked blankly. Sivi had never wanted to smack her friend quite
so hard.
"Je vais dire toi a peu pres," she said warningly: "I will tell you a little later."
"Pardon, Lady Sivi," Legolas said quietly. "Am I the butt of some joke?" Sighing, Sivi
put a hand on his arm.
"I meant no discourtesy, Prince Legolas," she said earnestly. "It is hard to imagine one
of your kind in the garments of our world."
Then Legolas began to laugh, a simple symphony all the more pleasing for the carefree and
joyous expression on the elf-prince's smooth white face.
"Is it hard for you?" he asked. "How much harder is it for me, think you?" Sivi smiled,
and their friendship was solidified. She was certainly no threat to Andrea, but she would from
then on be counted among his closest companions.
"I don't know," she answered, "but difficult or not, we have to do it. Andrea, are you
almost finished?"
Giggling herself, Andrea nodded,
"Yep. I'm done."
"Well, Prince Legolas," Sivi said, patting his shoulder with a wide grin, "let's see how
a noble son of Eryn Lasgalen handles the shopping centers of New York City."