AN: I'm really, really sorry. I was been paper swamped over Thanksgiving
Break. I had three papers due: one for Dance History (on themes and music),
one for Storytelling: Then and Now (religious allegory and The Matrix
Trilogy), and genetics (four articles with seven questions to answer for
each article) but they're (mostly) done now---the Storytelling one still
needs a bit of tweaking. I promise to update more frequently since all my
papers are done and I only have two finals this semester. I so can't wait
until December 15th when my semester's over. By the by, I got the Return of
the King Soundtrack. It's beyond great!
Sparkle23: Well, he isn't a very nice king/ruler. Look at how he acted in The Hobbit. Thanks for the review and the complement.
Elleiadrieal: Technically, Shannon could but she knows not to. I appreciate the review and the complement! I'm really glad you like this story of mine.
TitanicHobbit: I hope your dance class went well. Mine were cancelled due to Thanksgiving but I have lessons tomorrow and I know I'm in for trouble. My mom's a big mouth and the ultimate defender when it comes to my sister and I. Well, really more me than my sister. My sister has a very big mouth. She only got me the big box because she calls me Gollum. I, actually, have an Aragorn story coming up after this one. He and Legolas are two of my favorite characters. Anyway, thanks for the review.
PixiePea000: We all know how my mom is when she gets mad. Just look at all the chaos she's caused at the dance studio! By the way, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith.
Elainor: He's an old dog and you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks. She's not very happy with her daughter's biological father, to say the least! Thanks for the review.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.
Shannon was returned to her quarters by the guards who said nothing to her no matter what she asked them. They only spoke to each other in low, musical tones.
"What happened?" Mitchell asked, interrupting the story Emma had been telling him.
The little elf looked hurt for a split second, perking up when she saw her mother. She knew that a far better story was on the way.
"Let's just say," Shannon said, flopping wearily onto a couch, "that it didn't go well at all."
She proceeded to tell her husband and child about the confrontation she had with Thranduil, recalling every cruel remark and sharp retort he had given her.
Emma looked hurt at times but unfazed at others. She had decided that if Thranduil wasn't going to make an effort to like her, she wasn't going to make an effort to like him. It was just like the people she danced with. She stayed out of their way and they stayed out of hers. It was an unspoken, mutual pact between the two parties to keep from open hostilities.
Mitchell, on the other hand, got progressively angrier and angrier looking. He wanted to lash out at someone, preferable someone of elven blood. That, of course, did not include Emma. As far as he was concerned, Emma did not need this other man. She had one perfectly good father already.
"I have to talk to this guy," Mitchell announced, when his wife had finished speaking.
He made a motion to get up and head for the door.
"Sit down, Mitchell," Shannon, sharply, ordered.
"Why should I? Look, Shann, we've been duped by this guy? I bet his son is in on the act," Mitch said, beginning to pace.
Shannon sighed. She knew what was coming. Mitchell was in angry mode and nothing, save some kind of miracle, was going to stop him.
"Dad," Emma intoned, "Legolas had nothing to do with what his father said to mom."
"Look, just because he's your friend, Emma, you don't have to stick up for him. He could have lied to you and to your mother you now," Mitchell ranted.
Emma looked toward her mother, a silent question in her eyes. She didn't want to believe her father. She wanted to believe that, despite Thranduil's reaction, Legolas was being totally honest with her.
"He's just mad, Emma," Shannon whispered, "go on and get dressed."
Emma nodded, knowing that it would be far wiser to listen to her mother than try to confront her father. She got up, noting that she still wasn't making a sound when she moved, and began to walk over to her room.
She entered and, quietly, shut the door. Through the thick wood she could hear her mother giving her father a piece of her mind. This should have upset her, like it did when such events happened at home, but it didn't. She knew her father was uncomfortable in this situation and it was only a matter of time before this happened. She dressed silently, putting on a leaf green tunic with a darker green, long sleeved shirt under it and matching darker green pants. She left her slippers on her feet. They were comfortable and reminded her of her ballet shoes back home.
The yelling died down. Emma crept out of her room to find her mother sitting and having a quiet discussion with her father.
"It's alright, pixie," Shannon said, when she spotted Emma creeping slowly out of her room, "Dad and I had a little talk to sort things out."
"It's ok if I sit here?" she questioned, when she had reached her mother's side.
"Of course," Shannon replied.
Emma sat and joined the quiet discussion which seemed to be about requesting a brief leave before staying permanently in Middle Earth. Shannon and Mitchell felt that, to just disappear entirely, was not the best or the most logical idea in the world. Things would need to be set in order first.
Legolas appeared in the doorway, just as the sun was setting. He looked baffled, to say the least. There was something about his expression that made it seem like he had just been presented with a puzzle he could not figure out or explain.
"What's going on?" Shannon asked, taking note of the elf's expression.
Legolas sat on the couch, taking a seat next to Emma. The young elven girl greeted him with a smile which he made a valiant attempt at returning.
"I bring word from my father. Word regarding the three of you," he said to the small family.
"What about us?" Emma asked, slowly, scooting over to allow her mother to sit down next to her.
"He has, for some very strange reason, decided to allow the three of you to stay," Legolas began.
"Well, that's good," Shannon cut in, trying to sound cheery.
"There is more and this part is most strange. He is allowing Emma to retain the title I granted her. He will allow her to be princess under one condition," Legolas continued.
"What condition?" Mitchell questioned, darkly.
"You two are to continue to be responsible for her upbringing. She is to remain with you but she is to begin the proper education for a child of her age and stature," Legolas informed the worried looking mother and the angry father.
"Like school?" Emma questioned, carefully.
Legolas looked to Shannon to answer. He was not quite sure what school was.
A memory of a half a dozen or so small elven children sitting in a library suddenly appeared to Shannon. The children sat gathered around a large oaken table while a taller, most likely older; spoke in a droning form of elvish to the children. She did not understand what the elf was saying but something about it---some part of her former life that still remained rooted in her consciousness---made her think it was a history lesson.
"Like school," Shannon confirmed, "we just have to work on your elvish. Well, not we."
Legolas gave a small laugh. Shannon was remembering. Now if he could somehow drag the warrior part out of her---the part that was a fighter---he would be happy.
"Elvish?" Emma questioned in a smallish voice.
"We will work on that later," Legolas said, "Remember I offered to teach you elvish. If you mother would like to lean as well, I will be glad to refresh her memory."
"You mean," Mitchell cut in, breaking the flow of the conversation, "that after all the torment your father put my wife and my daughter through, he's going to just allow them to take up living here."
"I do, sir. It is my father's wishes though, as I said before, I do not know why he had this change of heart. I can assure you that it was not kind ness that moved him," Legolas countered.
A tense moment passed between the two, filling the room with a thick silence.
"May I ask another question?" Emma requested.
"Of course," Legolas replied, relieved that the tense silence had been broken.
"If your dad is letting me be a princess and stuff, that means I can make requests, right?" Emma questioned, an idea already taking shape in her head.
Legolas watched Emma, warily. He was sure that she was planning something but he was not sure what she had in mind.
"Yes, I believe you are," he answered, caution in his voice.
"Can we go home and come back when we're ready?" Emma asked, giving voice to her parents' earlier conversation.
Legolas thought for a brief moment. Setting up a transport would not be all that difficult. The one his father had used to bring the small family here could take them away just as easily.
"I do not see why not. I believe my father would like that idea very much. When would you be ready to return?" Legolas questioned.
Emma looked to her parents for the answer to that question. That was the part of the conversation she had missed.
"June, after Emma finished school and dancing. That would give Mitch and I enough time to set everything in order," Shannon answered.
"When would you like to leave here?" Legolas asked.
"As soon as we can, not that we're not thankful for your hospitality. It's just that someone might notice the fact we're gone," Shannon replied.
"I will see to it," Legolas announced, bowing out of the room.
It was far later when he returned with the large box that had transported Emma and her parents to Middle Earth. The box was not the nly thing he was carrying. Tucked into his belt were two tiny cloth pouches.
"When can we get out of here?" Mitchell quipped, "Or, has our parole been denied?"
Legolas looked confused by the last part of that statement.
Using the part he did understand, he answered, "You can leave right now, if you so desire."
He placed the box on the dining table, allowing Emma and her parents to crowd around it.
Suddenly he remembered the two pouches at his waist.
"Before you leave, these are for you," he announced, handing a greenish pouch to Emma and a dark blue pouch to Shannon.
"Thank you," the two females said in unison.
Shannon opened her pouch first, placing two fingers in the center and pushing the sides of the drawstring apart. She poured the contents into her open hand.
In the center of her hand, on a silver chain, was a daisy shaped flower. The petals seemed to be made of different colored stones or gems; light green, purple, blue, pink, yellow, and white. The center was made up of a red top resting over a white bottom. There was something vaguely familiar about this item. She recalled seeing the symbol somewhere.
"I can't take this," Shannon said, trying to hand the item back to Legolas.
The elf stepped back, moving just out of Shannon's reach.
"It was not mine to give. That was once yours, Shannon. It belonged to your previous self. A very good friend of mine had that in his stores and he gave it to me to return to its rightful owner," Legolas explained.
Shannon, still looking like she wanted to return the item to Legolas, just nodded and placed the chain around her neck. Its weight there seemed familiar and very comfortable. She found herself missing that feeling but not being able to explain why.
Emma looked to her mother for confirmation that she was aloud to open her pouch. Her mother nodded and Emma pulled the two cloth sides away from one another.
Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a thin silver chain with a leaf made out of a waxy green stone.
Before she could say or do anything, Legolas explained, "It is the symbol of my father's house. I have one somewhat akin to it, though I do not wear it. It is made of beryl, a type of elven stone. Wear it and recall who you really are."
Emma nodded, allowing Legolas to place the charm around her neck. She wasn't one to wear jewelry but she vowed not to take this off.
"Just place your hands on the box and you should be sent right home," Legolas ordered.
After saying their good-byes, which were long and somewhat tearful, Emma and her parents placed their hands on the box.
With a flash of white light, they were gone.
Sparkle23: Well, he isn't a very nice king/ruler. Look at how he acted in The Hobbit. Thanks for the review and the complement.
Elleiadrieal: Technically, Shannon could but she knows not to. I appreciate the review and the complement! I'm really glad you like this story of mine.
TitanicHobbit: I hope your dance class went well. Mine were cancelled due to Thanksgiving but I have lessons tomorrow and I know I'm in for trouble. My mom's a big mouth and the ultimate defender when it comes to my sister and I. Well, really more me than my sister. My sister has a very big mouth. She only got me the big box because she calls me Gollum. I, actually, have an Aragorn story coming up after this one. He and Legolas are two of my favorite characters. Anyway, thanks for the review.
PixiePea000: We all know how my mom is when she gets mad. Just look at all the chaos she's caused at the dance studio! By the way, GOLLUM and watch out for Agent Elrond Smith.
Elainor: He's an old dog and you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks. She's not very happy with her daughter's biological father, to say the least! Thanks for the review.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except for a handful of made up characters. Tolkien thought up the concept and, as such, it belongs to him. I'm just playing in his world. I'm broke and in college. All I own are Pointe Shoes.
Shannon was returned to her quarters by the guards who said nothing to her no matter what she asked them. They only spoke to each other in low, musical tones.
"What happened?" Mitchell asked, interrupting the story Emma had been telling him.
The little elf looked hurt for a split second, perking up when she saw her mother. She knew that a far better story was on the way.
"Let's just say," Shannon said, flopping wearily onto a couch, "that it didn't go well at all."
She proceeded to tell her husband and child about the confrontation she had with Thranduil, recalling every cruel remark and sharp retort he had given her.
Emma looked hurt at times but unfazed at others. She had decided that if Thranduil wasn't going to make an effort to like her, she wasn't going to make an effort to like him. It was just like the people she danced with. She stayed out of their way and they stayed out of hers. It was an unspoken, mutual pact between the two parties to keep from open hostilities.
Mitchell, on the other hand, got progressively angrier and angrier looking. He wanted to lash out at someone, preferable someone of elven blood. That, of course, did not include Emma. As far as he was concerned, Emma did not need this other man. She had one perfectly good father already.
"I have to talk to this guy," Mitchell announced, when his wife had finished speaking.
He made a motion to get up and head for the door.
"Sit down, Mitchell," Shannon, sharply, ordered.
"Why should I? Look, Shann, we've been duped by this guy? I bet his son is in on the act," Mitch said, beginning to pace.
Shannon sighed. She knew what was coming. Mitchell was in angry mode and nothing, save some kind of miracle, was going to stop him.
"Dad," Emma intoned, "Legolas had nothing to do with what his father said to mom."
"Look, just because he's your friend, Emma, you don't have to stick up for him. He could have lied to you and to your mother you now," Mitchell ranted.
Emma looked toward her mother, a silent question in her eyes. She didn't want to believe her father. She wanted to believe that, despite Thranduil's reaction, Legolas was being totally honest with her.
"He's just mad, Emma," Shannon whispered, "go on and get dressed."
Emma nodded, knowing that it would be far wiser to listen to her mother than try to confront her father. She got up, noting that she still wasn't making a sound when she moved, and began to walk over to her room.
She entered and, quietly, shut the door. Through the thick wood she could hear her mother giving her father a piece of her mind. This should have upset her, like it did when such events happened at home, but it didn't. She knew her father was uncomfortable in this situation and it was only a matter of time before this happened. She dressed silently, putting on a leaf green tunic with a darker green, long sleeved shirt under it and matching darker green pants. She left her slippers on her feet. They were comfortable and reminded her of her ballet shoes back home.
The yelling died down. Emma crept out of her room to find her mother sitting and having a quiet discussion with her father.
"It's alright, pixie," Shannon said, when she spotted Emma creeping slowly out of her room, "Dad and I had a little talk to sort things out."
"It's ok if I sit here?" she questioned, when she had reached her mother's side.
"Of course," Shannon replied.
Emma sat and joined the quiet discussion which seemed to be about requesting a brief leave before staying permanently in Middle Earth. Shannon and Mitchell felt that, to just disappear entirely, was not the best or the most logical idea in the world. Things would need to be set in order first.
Legolas appeared in the doorway, just as the sun was setting. He looked baffled, to say the least. There was something about his expression that made it seem like he had just been presented with a puzzle he could not figure out or explain.
"What's going on?" Shannon asked, taking note of the elf's expression.
Legolas sat on the couch, taking a seat next to Emma. The young elven girl greeted him with a smile which he made a valiant attempt at returning.
"I bring word from my father. Word regarding the three of you," he said to the small family.
"What about us?" Emma asked, slowly, scooting over to allow her mother to sit down next to her.
"He has, for some very strange reason, decided to allow the three of you to stay," Legolas began.
"Well, that's good," Shannon cut in, trying to sound cheery.
"There is more and this part is most strange. He is allowing Emma to retain the title I granted her. He will allow her to be princess under one condition," Legolas continued.
"What condition?" Mitchell questioned, darkly.
"You two are to continue to be responsible for her upbringing. She is to remain with you but she is to begin the proper education for a child of her age and stature," Legolas informed the worried looking mother and the angry father.
"Like school?" Emma questioned, carefully.
Legolas looked to Shannon to answer. He was not quite sure what school was.
A memory of a half a dozen or so small elven children sitting in a library suddenly appeared to Shannon. The children sat gathered around a large oaken table while a taller, most likely older; spoke in a droning form of elvish to the children. She did not understand what the elf was saying but something about it---some part of her former life that still remained rooted in her consciousness---made her think it was a history lesson.
"Like school," Shannon confirmed, "we just have to work on your elvish. Well, not we."
Legolas gave a small laugh. Shannon was remembering. Now if he could somehow drag the warrior part out of her---the part that was a fighter---he would be happy.
"Elvish?" Emma questioned in a smallish voice.
"We will work on that later," Legolas said, "Remember I offered to teach you elvish. If you mother would like to lean as well, I will be glad to refresh her memory."
"You mean," Mitchell cut in, breaking the flow of the conversation, "that after all the torment your father put my wife and my daughter through, he's going to just allow them to take up living here."
"I do, sir. It is my father's wishes though, as I said before, I do not know why he had this change of heart. I can assure you that it was not kind ness that moved him," Legolas countered.
A tense moment passed between the two, filling the room with a thick silence.
"May I ask another question?" Emma requested.
"Of course," Legolas replied, relieved that the tense silence had been broken.
"If your dad is letting me be a princess and stuff, that means I can make requests, right?" Emma questioned, an idea already taking shape in her head.
Legolas watched Emma, warily. He was sure that she was planning something but he was not sure what she had in mind.
"Yes, I believe you are," he answered, caution in his voice.
"Can we go home and come back when we're ready?" Emma asked, giving voice to her parents' earlier conversation.
Legolas thought for a brief moment. Setting up a transport would not be all that difficult. The one his father had used to bring the small family here could take them away just as easily.
"I do not see why not. I believe my father would like that idea very much. When would you be ready to return?" Legolas questioned.
Emma looked to her parents for the answer to that question. That was the part of the conversation she had missed.
"June, after Emma finished school and dancing. That would give Mitch and I enough time to set everything in order," Shannon answered.
"When would you like to leave here?" Legolas asked.
"As soon as we can, not that we're not thankful for your hospitality. It's just that someone might notice the fact we're gone," Shannon replied.
"I will see to it," Legolas announced, bowing out of the room.
It was far later when he returned with the large box that had transported Emma and her parents to Middle Earth. The box was not the nly thing he was carrying. Tucked into his belt were two tiny cloth pouches.
"When can we get out of here?" Mitchell quipped, "Or, has our parole been denied?"
Legolas looked confused by the last part of that statement.
Using the part he did understand, he answered, "You can leave right now, if you so desire."
He placed the box on the dining table, allowing Emma and her parents to crowd around it.
Suddenly he remembered the two pouches at his waist.
"Before you leave, these are for you," he announced, handing a greenish pouch to Emma and a dark blue pouch to Shannon.
"Thank you," the two females said in unison.
Shannon opened her pouch first, placing two fingers in the center and pushing the sides of the drawstring apart. She poured the contents into her open hand.
In the center of her hand, on a silver chain, was a daisy shaped flower. The petals seemed to be made of different colored stones or gems; light green, purple, blue, pink, yellow, and white. The center was made up of a red top resting over a white bottom. There was something vaguely familiar about this item. She recalled seeing the symbol somewhere.
"I can't take this," Shannon said, trying to hand the item back to Legolas.
The elf stepped back, moving just out of Shannon's reach.
"It was not mine to give. That was once yours, Shannon. It belonged to your previous self. A very good friend of mine had that in his stores and he gave it to me to return to its rightful owner," Legolas explained.
Shannon, still looking like she wanted to return the item to Legolas, just nodded and placed the chain around her neck. Its weight there seemed familiar and very comfortable. She found herself missing that feeling but not being able to explain why.
Emma looked to her mother for confirmation that she was aloud to open her pouch. Her mother nodded and Emma pulled the two cloth sides away from one another.
Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a thin silver chain with a leaf made out of a waxy green stone.
Before she could say or do anything, Legolas explained, "It is the symbol of my father's house. I have one somewhat akin to it, though I do not wear it. It is made of beryl, a type of elven stone. Wear it and recall who you really are."
Emma nodded, allowing Legolas to place the charm around her neck. She wasn't one to wear jewelry but she vowed not to take this off.
"Just place your hands on the box and you should be sent right home," Legolas ordered.
After saying their good-byes, which were long and somewhat tearful, Emma and her parents placed their hands on the box.
With a flash of white light, they were gone.