Chapter Two

Legolas opened his eyes, and was greeted with not starry sky, as he had thought. It wasn't even a morning sky. It wasn't sky at all. It was a strange, white ceiling. He blinked once, and then twice, but still it remained. The confused Elf sat up noiselessly, and looked around him. As he swept the room, he saw a large wooden bureau, several looking glasses, and a tall bookshelf. He stood quickly and without noise, and walked over to it. He gazed at the titles, in the Common Tongue, and turned, looking around again. A huge black window with no view reflected a bright light as sunlight broke though the metal slats covering the clear glass window, and he watched as a glowing object on a bedtable changed in the a strange script. Suddenly, an unbearably loud noise blasted out of it, and the before-unnoticed hump on the bed turned over. He wasn't sure where he was, and he definitely wasn't sure he liked being here.

Rhiannon Melody Storms had never had such an intense hangover in her life. Furthermore, not only was she completely hung over, that goddamned radio was still as high as it was when she left it turned all the way up. She had been in her adjoining bathroom trying to hear her favorite song. She let out a moan, pushed off her cat, Avariel, and pushed back the covers.

' Pancakes and Aleve. Pancakes, a latte, and Aleve.' She reached for the off button with her eyes closed, remembering her pledge to herself to start running on the weekends. It could wait till next weekend. She forced her self out of bed prepared to embark on an animalistic search for relief. As she stood, however, her eyes cleared, and she was met with the most beautiful man she had ever seen standing in her room, near her bookcase. She screamed, sheer terror taking over her and all hangover (almost) forgotten.

Legolas tilted his head to one side and looked at the screaming siren in front of him. She was letting out scream after bloodcurdling scream, and he could only assume it was because of him. He looked at her while she was screaming, her creamy, dark complexion, and wider hips, told him that she was obviously human. Human women were so much more passionate about everything. The screaming was getting to be rather annoying, and so he decided to stop it. He stepped forward to try to calm her, and when he placed a hand on her shoulder, she abruptly stopped and looked at him, her mouth still suspended in a silent holler.

If this was one of Melissa's tricks, she would kill her dead. She looked up into sparkling blue eyes which were filled with mirth. Correction. Thank her profusely, and then kill her dead. She grabbed at the phone and punched in her memory dial key 1. The phone rang four times before she was answered. A groggy sounding Melissa picked up the phone.

"Melissa!" She hissed, as if the man standing in front of her with his hand still on her shoulder would not be able to hear her. Her best friend knew something was wrong, hearing the urgency in her voice.

That, and it was before noon on a Saturday morning. They didn't call each other before noon on Saturdays unless it was an emergency.

"Is something wrong? What is it?"

"Yes. Something is wrong, Melissa." Rhiannon couldn't tell if the male prostitute Melissa had hired to scare her out of bed could speak English or not, but she decided to keep going.

" Well are you okay?! Rhiannon! It's like, eight in the morning!"

"Missy, you wouldn't by chance be able to tell me why there is a tall, blonde man standing in my bedroom, would you?"

"There's a tall, blonde man standing in your bedroom?"

"Melissa, kindly stop fucking around, and tell me you know something about this." Rhiannon knew her friend wasn't lying. She could hear it in her voice, but still pleaded with her to make it something else.
'Oh God,' she thought, 'I'm going to die.'

"I'm sorry, but I have no clue….. wait, THERE'S A TALL BLONDE MAN STANDING IN YOUR BEDROOM AND YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT IT?! HOW MUCH WINE DID YOU HAVE LAST NIGHT? DID YOU GO ANYWHERE?!" Rhiannon heard the moans of Melissa's husband, Matt, as she shrieked.

"I have to go, Melissa."

"No! What the hell is going on?!" Melissa was met with a sound click as Rhiannon hung up the phone, and she turned to her visitor. He was still holding her hand.

"Who are you?" Her voice was squeaky.

Legolas watched as the erratic woman in front of him picked up another strange object, pushed at it, and began talking to it. She said five lines of dialogue before she hung up, leading him to think that she was crazy. He raised an eyebrow and watched her skeptically. With her mouth closed, though, he could see that she was very attractive. She had large, honey colored eyes, and dark brown hair that was long and wavy. Her face was very symmetrical, and as he continued to look at her, he thought she would have a stunning smile.

Finally she turned to him and asked, "Who are you?"

"Are you well?" He wanted to make sure she was sound enough for him to go on.

"Yes, I'm fine now. Answer the question." He could see through her valiant effort to be brave. The slight wavering of her voice caused him to smile before he went on, ignoring the faint blush to her cheeks.

"I am Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. I do not know how I came to be here, I was hoping you would be able to help me, but it seems that you are as confused as I am. And what is your name?" She looked at him with a blank stare for a few seconds before starting, and answered.

"Um, I'm Rhiannon… of Southern California, I guess, and I'm just a lawyer, okay, not really that important… I don't really know how you got here, but," Her eyes swept over his clothing and weapons, "Um, where did you say you were from?"

"Mirkwood, Lady Rhiannon."
" I see. Well, where exactly IS Mirkwood?" She cringed. She knew she wasn't going to like this.

"In Middle Earth, of course." Legolas rushed forward and caught Rhiannon as her knees gave out. She barely noticed, as she was looking at him in absolute incredulity.

When Rhiannon snapped back, she was facing those same blue eyes, only now she was sitting on her bed. She swore. She'd been hoping it was a dream.

"Lady Rhiannon?"

"Just Rhiannon, please."

"Just Rhiannon?" Rhiannon rolled her eyes, and sighed.

"Never mind.. What is it?"

"Can you help me understand what is wrong with our current situation?"

"Well for one, this is the year two thousand and three." This time it was Legolas' turn to pale.

Rhiannon had had four aspirin. She was numb, and she liked it. She was downstairs, sitting at her kitchen table, Legolas across from her. She looked down at her tea, and then through her glass table at her fuzzy pink slippers, and his leather boots.

"Alright, let's figure this out." She felt what she liked to call 'The Lawyer Within' come out, her logical side, to sort everything out and get a solution. "You're from Middle Earth." Legolas nodded. "It's now 2003." Another nod. " And you're here, now." A third nod.

" Jesus tap-dancing Christ, what is going on!? Am I going insane? Sane people do NOT wake up to strange men from Mirkwood reading their damn books!" She was beginning to get hysterical as the situation sunk in. The normally loyal Avariel jumped from her lap when she began moving her feet nervously. Rhiannon looked up at Legolas with a start when her cat jumped into his lap.

"How did you do that?" She watched his face closely.

"Hm?" Legolas looked up. He'd been scratching the head of Avariel, and listening to her purr.

"Avariel hates people!"

"The Elves have always had an ability to tame animals."

"Elves?"

"Yes, Rhiannon," Legolas said, laughing at her expression. He had a melodious laugh that made Rhiannon relax, and made her comfortable enough to ask her next question.

"Let me get this straight. Not only are you from middle earth, you also are an Elf, Prince Legolas?" Legolas pulled back his hair and showed her his ears.

"I am, Rhiannon."

"And… so… what does that actually mean?"

"The Elves are the fairest race, the chosen peoples of the gods." He paused before continuing, "I am immortal." Rhiannon sprayed the table with latte.

"Oh -oh my god. I am so very, very sorry. That was incredibly disgusting." She leapt up from the table and went into the kitchen, got a towel, and began to clean the mess up, Avariel purring loud enough for her to hear. 'Traitor,' She thought.

"So, um, how old are you, exactly?" Rhiannon asked absentmindedly while running the dish towel over the spill.

"In Middle Earth, I was two-thousand, nine-hundred and fifty two years of age. I would assume my age is the same here, but I do not physically age, so I cannot say exactly." She looked up, and immediately sat down.

"Okay! Well, since neither of us know how you got here yet, I suppose you'll have to stay until we can figure it out. Which means I need to calm down. Which means…" Legolas saw her first smile since he arrived. "Shopping!"