What You See…
OMG U GUYS!!!!!!!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOOOOOO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! My only excuses are that school has been so busy this month—too many projects, tests, quizzes….also, we had itbs testing!!! So I'm really sorry… hope this chapter was worth the wait!!!
P.S. war has started! Tho I'm sure y'all kno that…hope it doesn't get too dirty!!! Hope our troops get back safely!!!
Disclaimer: I own everything, Leggy, Aragorn, Elrond, LOTR as a whole! U kiddin' me? Do u think I would be typing this fic if I owned LOTR? Ru insulting me by saying I look like an old man who's dead?
*……..* means words spoken in Elvish (Sindarin to be more exact)
italics means thoughts or emphasized words
Chapter Ten: Speculations and Observations
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Aria's POV * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Control.
It was something that everyone strived for. Everyone strove to be calm, cool, collected in tense or dangerous situations. Control meant power. Why did so many want power in the world? Power meant control, control of others.
Control was everything.
I was not different from anyone else. I liked to be the one in control of the situation. I liked to be the one in control. Now, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not some greedy tyrant who wants to rule the world. I just felt more comfortable when I knew all sides of the story and what everyone was playing at. But right now… that was not happening.
I resisted the urge to scream or throw something. Panic had begun to settle in rapidly after I had chucked soap at the Aragorn look-alike. When I had woken up, everything had happened so quickly that I had not had the time to really think about it. Now that I did, what was going on was not making any sense to my mind. There were Lord of the Rings look-alikes walking around everywhere! Was I going insane? Was I dead? Was this some kind of huge practical joke? Some kind of new, strange training program set up by my parents? Was I… in Middle Earth? The last option seemed impossible… and yet so likely at the same time.
I was still in the bathtub, sitting in the exact same position I had been after I had thrown the bar of soap. To give myself some physical activity to do while my mind tried its best to figure out these complicated riddles, I began to try to clean out my hair. Key word there: try. As I pulled sticks, twigs, and leaves out of my hair, the gears of my brain were in whirling rapidly. I decided to examine each of my theories carefully. Dreaming was immediately ruled out.
Dead… well, do people hurt when they're dead? Do they feel anything at all? Maybe I was dead and I just didn't know it. I had not clue. It was strange to think about the fact that I might be dead. I did not feel any emotion about it except for a vague melancholy. Stopping in the process of pulling stuff out of my hair, I looked at my hand. It was small. I had always had small hands. I clenched my hand into a fist. My sharp nails dug into my skin, making slight impressions. I made the mental note to look for fingernail clippers later. No, I could not be dead. Death would surely be different. Another option ruled out.
Practical joke? I remembered this TV show I had heard about—what was it called again? Oh right, the Jamie Kennedy Experiment. I had never seen it but from the commercials, it was a show in which someone was set up and there were hidden cameras everywhere. But surely if I were on that show, they would not have gone to such extents. I mean, a few giant killer spiders were a bit overboard, don't you think? Plus, those ears had been real. No one would superglue a fake ear to their real one just for a hidden camera show. Ok, so this was not some big practical joke.
It was possible that this was some whole new regime for training that my oh-so-lovable parents had thought up. Hell, they've done strange things in the past before. For three days straight in a row, they had made me think about closing door with my mind. Picture slamming a door...I had wondered then if my parents were insane. Then again any parents who were like mine must have strange workings of the mind. I had not complained though. Anything was better than another day of training. I gave this possibility some serious consideration. Some sort of new test to see how I would fare under new and unexpected conditions? No, it couldn't be my parents. They would not have let me rest so long or let me take a long bath. Plus, it did not explain the Lord of the Rings look-alikes.
And so I was left with two more options that I could think of: I was either insane (or heading that way) or I had someone landed in Middle Earth. The latter seemed so… I don't know, ridiculous, impossible—I couldn't even think of the words to describe it! There was no such place as Middle Earth. It was only a world made up by J.R.R. Tolkien, a fantasy story! It did not exist. People carried around copies of the books and movies, for Christ's sake! Yet, it all seemed so real! So wonderful and vivid, so strange yet beautiful. I would not completely rule out this option yet. I was a firm fantasy book worshiper… I could stretch my imagination a little bit.
The last option… insanity. Perhaps right at this instant, I was locked up in some room pretending to take a bath and untangle my hair. Perhaps this tub I was seemingly in was only an illusion, something a twisted mind had created. Perhaps some portion of my brain had gone out during my fall. I shuddered. I did not want to be an insane person. I had visited an asylum once, and it had not been pretty. Oh, the psychiatrists were nice enough and patient enough with the patients, but looking at each of them, locked up in their rooms had given me the shivers. It was like a prison. They were imprisoned in their own minds. I had pitied them. What wonders, or horrors, could they see in their minds that we could not? Were the insane truly crazy? Perhaps they were the ones who truly saw the real way of the world, the true scheme of things. Perhaps they saw everyone as they really were. Or perhaps I think too much. Philosophy was just too complicated.
I had seen a man be put in a straight jacket, struggling and yelling about how the chickens were all banding together and were going to destroy us all. I didn't want to be one of those people. Panic began taking over again. What if I was crazy and I couldn't wake up from it? What would happen to me? A sharp pain gave me an anchor, brought me upwards from that sea of uncertainty and panic, allowed me to breathe the sweet air of calm again. I had been pulling my hair too hard.
I continued untangling, though more carefully now. I was almost done. So I had come down to two conclusions: crazy or Middle Earth. For the time being, just because I needed to have some distinct impression of where I was, I decided to believe the latter. It was by far the more appealing choice. Besides, if I believed the first one I would probably end up driving myself crazy anyways.
Finally finishing with my hair, I rubbed this liquidy thingie which looked like shampoo (or at least I hoped it was) in it. I quickly finished the rest of my bath and quickly climbed out. I did not want anyone else to intrude while I was naked. Grabbing a towel, which was amazingly soft, I wrapped it around my body. It was so long that it reached my ankles, very fluffy too. Taking another, shorter one, I wrapped it around my hair, though a bit awkwardly since I couldn't use my left arm properly.
My hand brushed my ear as I brought it back down. My earrings! Shoot! I thought. I should probably take them out. They're probably all dirty. I don't want to get an ear infection, after all! Once again, this took a while, handicapped as I was by my broken arm. It was becoming very annoying, but then again, I supposed that it was healing well enough. Those that I had seen at school with broken arms had taken weeks to heal. How long have I been here anyways? I wondered. And where did they put my old clothes? And my watch? I couldn't remember if I had put anything in my pockets. Well, anything from the 21st century would help me regain a sense of reality right now, I thought ruefully.
I strolled cautiously back into the main room. No one was there. The table I had pushed in front of the door was pushed away and the door was wide open. That guy had broken the door down! I closed the door again, though this time I did not push anything in front of it. I would just have to be more alert.
Carefully, I set my earrings, small diamond ones, down on the table next to the bed. I resisted the urge to lie down on the bed and just go to sleep. My wounds were affecting me more than I thought they would. I was feeling slightly lightheaded from standing so much. Looking at the bed with longing, I suddenly shuddered. Did I really want to sleep? No, I wanted to rest. Sleep did not seem to bring rest. I had been dreaming again, and the dreams were not pretty. I wondered if I had sleepwalked. I probably had since sleepwalking usually accompanied those disturbing dreams. Hopefully, I had not frightened anyone.
I looked around the room for clothes or a closet or something. There was a door other than the entrance into this room on the wall to the far left. Walking over to it, I opened it cautiously and peered in. A swarm of color met my eyes—blue, green, red, gold—the closet was filled with dresses! I peered at them in wonder; they were all so beautiful! Silken dresses, dresses with intricate designs, dresses that seemed to be made out of light and air. Okay, so I admit it. I did have sort of a weakness for pretty things. I'm not the whole girly-girl, but I did enjoy the finer things in life (which I did not get very often). So a room full of dresses looking like they were made for princesses delighted me as they would any other normal girl.
I really hoped that they were not for me, though. For one thing, while I would love to try them on, I would feel extremely embarrassed wearing something so elegant. I had a mental picture of me in a frilly pink silk dress and shuddered at the image. God, I would die of embarrassment. Those were dresses fit for queens, not high school girls. It as like those situations at the mall where you see the cutest top you're dying to get, but you know it won't fit you. But you want to try it anyways and when you do and you end up looking just as horrible as you thought you would, you feel so utterly ridiculous and would rather die than have one of your friends catch you like that. Exact same feeling, except the humiliation would be ten times as worse because if I were caught, it would be by strangers who would undoubtedly laugh at me behind my back.
Flipping through the multicolored dresses, I searched for something more fitting for me to wear. I found nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada. There were only dresses in that closet. So, resigned to looking like a fool in something totally unfit for me (though I was secretly hoping to maybe try a few on before anyone could see me in them), I browsed through the dresses, looking for something simple. Settling on a light blue gown that didn't have so many delicately woven designs etched on it, I pulled it out.
Though I would have died rather than admitted it to anyone, I was itching to try the thing on. Hey, who says I can't be feminine? I held it against my body, trying to picture how foolish I would look (though I was secretly hoping that it wouldn't turn out too bad). It was about six inches too long. Damn. With a sigh, I put the soft gown back and searched for something that would fit and would not make me look like a half-starved peacock.
After about five minutes of searching through the hoard, I gave up. All of them were too long! I hate being short. These dresses were made for women who were at least 5'8 or so. Damn my height. I looked at my bare shoulders. I had to find something to wear! If someone walked into the room right now (like that hot blonde-haired guy), I wouldn't want to greet them only wearing a towel. Not that they would be able to understand me if I greeted them, I thought. They probably think I'm crazy already, which I might be. A madwoman, gabbering gibberish in a towel!
As I thought about what to do, an idea struck me. I went back to the little bathroom and grabbed another clean towel. Draping it across my back, I tied it firmly into a knot at the front, a rather large and crude knot. Now I looked like I was wearing a fluffy tube dress with a fuzzy white shawl-like thingie combined with a ball of fuzz at my chest where the knot was. Great. Oh well, it was better than nothing.
Next step: the hair. I pulled out the towel that was holding it up and had sucked most of the water out. A sodden, damp mass fell on my back. I groaned at the thought of trying to untangle all the knots in it. I would love to say that I had hair that cascaded down my back in soft, smooth waves, always looking perfectly groomed, with not a tangle or a knot in place.
I wish.
My hair was wavy, yes, but it was also poofy, frizzy, tangley, and whatever other adjectives there are to describe hair that just does not behave. After I took a shower, I had to blow dry it or let it dry naturally and then sleep on it so that it would retain some level of flatness the next morning. While it was in the drying process…well, let's just say that I usually resembled a silver-maned lion at that point. God, I hate my hair. Cutting it short might've been easier, but then I wouldn't be able to tie it up at all, which would annoy me even further. I wish I had straight hair. Then again, if wishes were dollar bills, I'd be a stinkin' millionaire. Ok, I'll stop ranting about hair now, but hey, in school with the 'popular girls group,' hair was something that needed to be discussed constantly, so I was used to giving a dissection about hair.
I sat down at the small vanity, where there was this sort of comb/brush thingie. Looking at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair (hey, who said I had to be the humble, modest girl—hell, I can be vain if I want to!), I decided that I looked horrible. A large bruise was covering the left side of my face and there was a small but healing cut on my forehead. Fortunately, my hair was still rather calm right now as it was still damp. I must've looked rather strange to anyone who might've poked their head into the room because I kept on wincing as I hit knots, which was about every few seconds.
I have to say though, that I look very young and naïve. People often thought I was a lot younger than I actually was, which was useful in some cases (the teachers all liked me, which made schoolwork a lot easier) but very annoying for the most part (Lilly teased me endlessly about it). Then again, I guess that it's sort of a family trait. Johnny was a lot like that too, though he had it down a lot better than I did.
So, I reminded myself, if you see anyone coming remember to look innocent. Brush your hair like it's the most important thing in the world. If you walk, watch your posture so they don't guess that you have skills in weaponry. Make noise when you walk; silence is not normal in most people. Don't shake hands with anyone or else they'll find you out. If someone takes you by surprise, do not jump up and attack the person. Did I need to hide my skills from them though? I decided that I probably should considering that I didn't know what these people planned to do with me yet. Also, if I needed to escape, a seemingly harmless prisoner would be less heavily guarded than one who has skills with weapons. Unbidden, images of training, my parents, and Johnny came to mind. Johnny…
To keep my mind off the constant battle with my hair and those darker thoughts that I didn't really want to explore right now, I began to sing. Now, I won't lie to you, I don't have the clear, angelic, oh-so-beautiful singing voice that some people, like Lilly—she just has to be perfect at everything, doesn't she?—has. I could keep a tune though, and I enjoyed singing. So, I began to sing. Well, it went into the sweet, innocent young maiden routine anyways.
* * * * * * * * Omniscient POV ( I will be including both the LOTR characters' POV and Aria's POV in this section, though both will be in third person.) * * * * * * * * * *
Legolas, King Thranduil, and Lord Elrond strolled down the stone halls, making their way to the healing chambers. Lord Elrond asked Legolas many questions about the strange young woman on the way. Legolas answered as truthfully as possible, though he didn't know very much. He did say, however, that she seemed to have an almost childlike innocence about her. My father dispatched a messenger to fetch Aragorn, though Legolas could tell that Thranduil thought Aragorn, a Man, would not be of any help. Prejudice of different races ran deep in Thranduil.
To their surprise, Aragorn came striding up to them in the halls as they neared the chambers of healing.
"Aragorn," Legolas exclaimed, "what are you doing here? My father just sent a messenger to get you so you could come greet our guest in the rooms of healing." Confusion showed on Legolas's face as Aragorn turned red.
"Perhaps I should not go along with you," Aragorn said uncomfortably. "I'm afraid that I have made the wrong impression on the lady." He turned even redder, if that was possible. "I'm afraid that I intruded on her while she was bathing. No," he raised his hands in self-defense as Legolas's mouth opened to speak, "I saw nothing. She was covered in rose petals."
"Spying on young ladies' baths, are we, Estel?" Lord Elrond asked amusedly. Aragorn's face now resembled a tomato.
"I did not mean to," he spoke. "For while I was on my way to visit Legolas this morning in the lady's rooms, I found that the door was barred. I thought that there might be trouble when I heard a scream and a splash, so I broke in to see if anything was the matter. However, there was nothing wrong. It seemed that the lady had fallen into the tub. Unfortunately, she saw me and…"
"And?" Legolas prompted.
"She has very good aim with soap." Aragorn said simply as an explanation. For a moment, Legolas was confused but then he saw the way that Aragorn had been walking, and he realized what he had meant. So did Lord Elrond. The two of them burst into laughter, causing Aragorn, whose face had finally returned to a normal color, to blush again. "Ada…" he said pleadingly, while shooting a glare at Legolas which only caused him to laugh harder. King Thranduil remained in stony silence, clearly not thinking much of Aragorn but not surprised either. He had not expected any better from a Man.
"Well," Legolas said with a grin after he stopped laughing, "you know what Arwen would say to you." At the mention of Arwen, Aragorn turned redder, though he tried to control the waves of heat spreading across his face. Legolas mimicked Arwen's voice, "Males! They're all the same! The moment they hear a lady screaming, they assume that she's in trouble and that they need to rush in and save the day." Legolas broke off, laughing again, and this time, Aragorn joined in.
"Now, young prince," Lord Elrond said sternly, "I hope you are not speaking ill of my daughter." But his eyes twinkled at the antic of the young.
"Of course not, my lord." Legolas replied with a bow, though his eyes sparkled with contained laughter.
"Let us be on our way," King Thranduil said abruptly in a cold tone of voice. He was beginning to become impatient. They resumed walking in silence.
"What need do you have of me, Legolas?" Aragorn asked curiously as they strolled through the halls. Legolas gave Aragorn a shortened version of what had occurred, which gave Aragorn a reason to laugh as well, explaining that the lady could not understand any of the languages he had spoken and that Aragorn might know more for he had traveled across the land.
As they finally neared the room, the faint sounds of singing could be heard from within.
I don't know
What words I can say
The wind has a way
Of talking to me
Flowers sleep
A silent lullaby
I pray for reply
I'm ready…
(A/N: ok, I know this is distracting but u might not get how I'm doing the whole POV thingie. Right now it's back to Aria's POV for a while and then it'll switch back and forth between Aria and the LOTR characters' POV. This way I don't have to redo each scene so I can get different POVs in.) She had begun to sing the first song that had come to mind. She had heard the song from a television show a long time ago. It was a gentle song, soft and even.
Quiet days
Calm me
Oh, serenity…
Someone please
Tell me
Ohhmm, what is it they say?
Maybe I will know one day
The singer's voice was soft but melodic. It was not one of those angelic singing voices, but it did not sound bad either. It was not a voice that rang like clear bells and caught one up at once in a crescendo of sound, but rather a voice that was soft and soothing, though aching and melancholy at the same time. It was a voice that could be easily filled with emotion, that betrayed a love for those things of peace and calm, though none of the group understood the words.
I don't know
What words I can say
The wind has a way
Of talking to me
Flowers sleep
A silent lullaby
I pray for reply
I'm ready…
Great, now I've gone and gotten myself all depressed, Aria thought gloomily as she finished the song. Dark thoughts crowded her brain, begging for release. But she held them still with a will of iron, choosing instead to sing another song. It was a carefree song with a cheerful melody, though the words didn't really tell about such a cheerful story. She hummed the intro and began to sing, "Livin' my life in a slow hell, different girl every night at the hotel…I ain't seen the sun shine in three damn days… been fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey, wish I had a good girl to miss me…Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways…I put your picture awaaaaaay, sat down and cried todaaaaaay. I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to her…" She sang at the top of her lungs, dispelling all of her feelings of despair.
The group listened on as the song changed from the soft, gentle melody before to one with a very different tune. They walked in on silent feet, the silence of all Elves, and Aragorn, who had been trained by Elves, moved just as quietly.
"Called you last night at the hotel…everyone knows but they won't tell. But their half-hearted smiles tell me something, just ain't right…been thinkin' 'bout you for a long time…fuelin' up on heartaches and cheap wine. I ain't heard from you in three damn nights…I put your picture away; I wonder where you've been…I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him…" she sang.
The young woman was sitting at the vanity, brushing the long, silver hair which fell down her back in dark and damp but still shining waves. Her left arm was held close to her body, awkwardly. She obviously was not one who broke bones very often. From what they could tell, she seemed to be healing well. She was also dressed in the strangest garments: a towel wrapped around her body and yet another one tied around her shoulders, making her look rather like a cotton ball because of the towels' fluffiness.
"Saw you yesterday with an old friend. It was the same old same how have you been… since you've been gone my world's been…dark and gray. You reminded me of better days. I hope you were comin' home to staaay…I was headin' to church… I was off to drink you awaaaaaaaaaay…" she continued, unaware that someone was in the room with her.
The group just stood there for a while, taking care not to step in front of the mirror and scare the wits out of the young woman, wondering if she would notice them. It soon became apparent that she wouldn't. Legolas cleared his throat. The singing was cut off abruptly by a small yelp of surprise combined with a small jump which made her trip over the chair, crashing to the ground.
She had not heard anyone coming, so when she heard the clearing of a throat, she had been so surprised that she had immediately acted on her reflexes, which was to jump off her seat and roll away, keeping low so that the enemy could no hit her. Inwardly, she was cursing herself for not noticing that someone was in the room. Then, midway through the small jump, she had remembered that this was not training. The strange and different atmosphere, so different from the noisy bustling of school or other public places, reminded her strangely of her house. Whoever had come in might have thought it strange it she had done what she was about to, so she had tried to stop it midway. That sort of worked…excluding the crashing over the chair part (luckily, she had not landed on her left arm). "Ow…" She stood up quickly (crashing over a chair was already embarrassing enough) and regretted it. Spots of bright light and darkness swam before her eyes, blocking her vision. The blood rushed to her head, making her fell dizzy and disoriented. Beginning to sway a little, she put out hand to steady herself…and met with someone else's hand, a supple yet callused hand, one that was both soft as silk yet hard as steel at the same time.
At the crash, both Legolas and Aragorn had started moving forward. But the young woman had stood up by herself, though a bit too fast. She swayed on her feet, reaching out a hand to steady herself…and Legolas, who was nearer caught it, supporting her.
Glancing up after she could see again, she almost groaned as she saw who it was. The Legolas-look-alike. But, remembering to be polite and also remembering not to touch hands with anyone, she quickly smiled and said a hurried thank you. He seemed to get what she was saying and both he and look! the Aragorn-look-alike stepped back to where two other "Elves." An Elrond-look-alike; this was just great, and another Elf, seemingly. But she schooled her face into a mask of calm, not wanting to seem ungrateful or anything. "Hi," she said hesitantly, wondering if they would understand her. Apparently, they didn't from the looks of confusion on their faces.
*You are right, Legolas,* Elrond remarked with a frown. *It is unlike any language I have ever heard.*
*I have never heard such a language either,* Aragorn commented, frowning a bit. He had heard most of the languages of Middle-earth from his travels. King Thranduil said nothing. His opinion of this young woman was not very high, from the way she had fallen over the chair, though it did not surprise him; all humans were clumsy compared to Elves. Also, from the way she was dressed. Didn't she have the decency to cover herself properly? Towels did not count.
*Perhaps it is the language of some folk far away that none of us have ever seen,* Legolas suggested.
*But how would she have ended up in Mirkwood, then?* Aragorn countered. *And who on Middle-earth would not learn the Common tongue?*
*I do not know,* Legolas replied, throwing his hands up in a gesture of defeat. He glanced over to the subject in question, who was looking at them, grey eyes wide with fascination. She was entranced by the beautiful language that these strange people were speaking. Dang, she though, if they taught that at school, I'd drop Spanish and take it up in an instant!
*Perhaps she is just a madwoman,* Thranduil remarked, eyeing the young woman with distaste. Legolas glanced at her again. She peered back at him curiously but calmly with crystal clear grey eyes—those were not the eyes of a mad person.
Apparently, Lord Elrond agreed. *Nay,* he said, * I think not.* They all turned to observe the young woman, who stood calmly under their scrutinizing gazes, though she was squirming uncomfortably inside.
*We should at least try to learn the lady's name,* Aragorn said.
*Yes,* Legolas agreed. To the young woman he said slowly, in Common, "What is your name?" though he did not harbor much hope that she would understand him. She didn't. Legolas pointed to himself and said slowly, "Legolas."
The confusion on her face cleared up as she repeated his name, "Legolas." He wondered at the fact that she pronounced his name perfectly, unlike most humans who had a hard time articulating it. In Aria's mind, she was trying to decide whether she was going crazy or not. But deciding that she would get nowhere by assuming herself mentally unstable, she pointed to herself and said clearly, "Aria." She decided not to say her full name or last name, since she would probably just confuse everyone by trying to explain the whole first name, last name, nickname thing.
"Aria." The name flowed off Legolas's tongue like honeyed wine. One by one, the Aragorn, Elrond, and even Thranduil introduced themselves, and it seemed to them that the lady's face grew more troubled with each new name. Then silence descended as they observed each other. Lord Elrond, observing with a healer's point of view, was pleased that his patient seemed to be healing quite well, while Thranduil looked upon her with disdain and a bit of curiosity mixed in with anger as to how a young, untried woman could penetrate Mirkwood. Aragorn was hoping that the lady would forget about the whole bath incident, though he was extremely curious about one who did not speak any language he knew (and he knew many), while Legolas…well, Legolas felt an extreme curiosity and a strange tenderness toward this young stranger, wondering how she had come to be so wounded, what kind of person she was like, and those sorts of things.
Aria, meanwhile, studied them as well. She could tell, plainly, as Thranduil did not try to hide it, that the "Elf" with dark blonde hair and disapproving grey eyes did not like her. The one with who called himself Elrond radiated authority and peace… she could not tell what he thought. When they had introduced themselves, she had purposely allowed her emotions to be visible in her eyes. Normally, she would've hidden them (except for at school), but she remembered that they might think it strange if a wounded young girl who spoke a different language showed not a sign of surprise at all. They might even have thought her a spy! "Aragorn" looked upon her with an expression of mixed apprehension and curiosity. He was probably hoping that she did not remember the bathroom incident. Well, she would let that one pass. After all, it would not be good to offend her captives by yelling at them when so far, they had shown her kindness. Lastly, the one who called himself "Legolas" seemed curious but friendly. Of the four strangers, he seemed to be the one who looked upon her the most as a person, not as some strange, wild creature that had been captured and caged.
But, she still had to decide whether to believe this whole "Middle-earth" thing or not. She wanted to so desperately, but the logical, reasonable part of her mind was telling her that this was literally impossible. By and by, as the four strangers continued gazing at her, she became acutely aware of the fact that she was dressed in only towels. Also, she remembered that she had tried to pull "Legolas's" ears off and had thrown soap at "Aragorn." Also, they had probably heard her horrible singing of "Picture" and had witnessed her falling over a chair. Unwillingly, she began to blush as she thought about what kind of person she must seem to them.
The four noticed that their gazes were making the young woman uncomfortable and averted them. Lord Elrond gestured for everyone to take a seat, and they did, the young woman catching on and seating herself on the bed, perched rather tensely, as they noticed. Silence settled. Aria glanced around nervously; they all seemed to be expecting her to speak. So, clearing her throat, she began (in her "hi, nice to meet you" tone that she often used with new students at school), "Hi, my name is Aria, and no, I do not dye my hair. It's natural, believe it or not. Well, my mom and dad own the martial arts place down town, and I have a little brother called Johnny. I'm fifteen years old…" and so on. After she had told a little about herself (of which she knew that they had understood not a word), she stopped and waited for them to say something.
*That language sounds rather similar to Common." Legolas said.
*It does,* Lord Elrond remarked. *But it is far different. I could not understand anything she said.*
*Perhaps it is a different version of common,* Aragorn suggested.
*No,* Elrond disagreed. *The nuances and inflections are different. It would take us quite a while to dissect that language.*
*Well, what am I to do with her?* Thranduil asked impatiently. *I cannot have a girl who speaks a tongue no one knows of at my court. All will think her a madwoman!*
*I will teach her.* Legolas said suddenly.
*What?* Thranduil asked incredulously. *Legolas, were you not just yesterday complaining to me that you should not have to do such a menial task of guarding one of Lord Elrond's patients? What is this sudden change of mind?*
*I do not know, Father. But I brought her here to the palace, and so I shall be the one to take responsibility of her.* Legolas said, truly wondering why he had volunteered. Thranduil nodded his approval. He might not have thought much of the young woman, but he was pleased with his youngest son's sense of duty and responsibility.
*It is settled then.* Lord Elrond said, pleased. *Now, we must try to explain our purposes to our mysterious enigma.* He turned to speak to her but found her asleep, her head sagging against the bedframe. Aria had been listening to their conversation but had found her eyelids drooping after a while. She felt extremely weary but forced her eyes open. It would not be very polite to fall asleep while strangers were in the room. But by and by, the soft sound of conversation seemed to turn into a lullaby and lured her off to the lands of dreamless, serene sleep.
There was a look of blissful peace on her face, and sleep made her seem but a child. Lord Elrond's gaze softened at the innocence in this young person. He moved over to the bed and shifted her slight form into it, tucking the blankets up to her chin, like he had done with Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, and Aragorn when they were children. *Let us not disturb her.* he said, stepping silently out of the room. Everyone other than Legolas followed.
Legolas resumed his guard, pulling up a chair near to the bed, gazing at his charge's tranquil face—wondering what in Middle-earth he had gotten himself into.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Twelve pages people!! Twelve pages!!! This is my way of saying I am sooooooooo sorry. If u thought the speculation on Aria's part about whether she was in middle earth or not was boring, sorry. But I get so tired of reading those 'girl falls into middle earth' fics where the girl seems just to accept right away that "yeah, I'm in middle earth…so what's for lunch?" Some might have a little freaking out or speculation but it's just a tiny bit and doesn't play a big role. That doesn't seem very realistic to me. Come on, seriously, think about it, if u fell into middle earth would your first reaction be "oh joy, I'm in middle earth" or "omg, I'm going crazy this is some big practical joke?" think about it. I won't do too much of it anymore tho…so for those of u who are bored, u won't have to worry about it.
Also, the omniscient POV might've been kinda weird cuz I tried to incorporate all the characters' feelings… I don't think I did that great but hey, I had to do something. It's prolly gonna continue on in mostly omniscient cuz I don't like rewriting everything in different POVs cuz it gets really annoying. QUESTIONS FOR THIS TIME: HOW LONG WOULD IT TAKE TO LEARN A LANGUAGE IF SOMEONE SPENT LIKE EVERY DAY TRYING TO LEARN IT? AND HOW LONG WOULD IT TAKE GANDALF TO GET FROM RIVENDELL TO MIRKWOOD???
BIG NOTICE: I WILL BE DOING A LITTLE REVISING NOW CUZ IN THE NEXT CHAPPIE I WILL PROLLY BE INCLUDING A FEW OF LEGOLAS'S BROTHERS, ETC. I'M CHANGING THE WHOLE FAMILY HISTORY THING, TAKING GALELAS TOTALLY OUT. I DECIDED THAT I WANT LEGGY TO BE THE YOUNGEST SON. I'M SURE THAT U GUYS DON'T WANNA REREAD A CHAPTER THO SO I'LL EXPLAIN IT ALL TO U GUYS WHEN I CHANGE IT. SO WATCH OUT FOR MY AUTHOR'S NOTES AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF EACH CHAPPIE PPLZ! I'll try to update ASAP!!!
Now, to reply to some reviewers:
Twilight's Mysteries: I just sorta made up the disease lol. I didn't really specify what it was…then again, I don't know that much about disease so…your story sounds cool! If I ever find the time (SCHOOL IS EVIL!!!) I'll go read it. ^_^
LadyTremere: I don't mind the nitpicking, lol. I probably need it…when I find the time, I'm gonna go back and revise all those things u pointed out and some other stuff too. Glad u liked the first part, you're the only person who commented on it! And the person will be revealed…eventually. Ugh… I kno some of the language sounds modern. I have the hardest hardest time with characterization of the LOTR characters for some reason!!! Cuz u gotta correspond it with Tolkien's LOTR and it's hard to do that!!! I'm a lot better with writing my own, as I think most people are.
QueenOfTheShadows: my sentiments exactly. That chapter sucked. To tell u the truth, it annoyed me to no end but I had to have something from the LOTR characters' points of view on Aria. The chapter was gonna be longer and include some new stuff but the stuff from the characters' points of view took a lot longer than I thought. Hope u thought this chappie was better!
AnGeLiC dEvIl: *blushes* I'm very flattered. And thanx for adding me to your favorite authors and favorite stories! I'm honored. Unfortunately, my writing can't hold a candle to some of the things I've seen on this site…ugh… well no point in going and getting myself all discouraged…hope u liked this chappie!!!
Muriel_Sol: I'll try to go read it when I find the time!!!
Shakiya: sorry for not updating for so long! Please forgive me!
Lime green lion: glad u luv my fic! :) and sorry for not updating!!!