Legolas gazed up at the stars, perhaps pondering his answer. Finally, he
said something:
"Being an elf is a curse and a gift, a curse, for me, to see my friends suffer with age and die, but a gift to not feel the effects myself. Being an elf is indeed an odd thing, being of the 'Blessed Ones.' Sometimes you feel things so deeply that you cannot speak of them and when you see another of my race, you can look into their eyes and see their lives written there, their victories, their defeats, their love, their destiny."
Legolas continued to gaze up at the stars, a beer in his hand. I took a sip of my own and thought over what he had just said. That was like it was to be an elf, and from an elf's own lips. I didn't really know what to say after that.
"And to be a human?" asked Legolas suddenly. I almost jumped.
"It's not hard at all. You live, love, die," I said. "That's about it. Nothing really deep unless you want to make it that way."
"Aye," said Legolas. "But most humans do not have the time to make their lives worth anything, unless by chance or accident."
"But it has to be that way with elves, too. I mean, not every one of you can be something amazing," I replied. Legolas laughed softly.
"Of course our race also falls prone to undesirables," he said. "We elves are not perfect.no matter what some shall say. In Middle Earth, people see want they want to see in others, not what is truly there, be it for better or worse."
"It's the same here," I replied. "No one's perfect, as much as some people would like to think they are. Family seems to be a prime example." At this, Legolas laughed heartily.
"Then the elves of my world and humans of yours are more alike that I would have thought," he said. "I find it that way also for me."
"Do you not love your family?" I asked.
"Love and duty are two different things," answered Legolas. "I have a responsibility to them, not a place in my heart."
"Ditto," I replied. Legolas looked over at me.
"You feel the same?" he asked, a sound of amazement in his voice.
"Ya," I answered. "The exact same. And it hurts sometimes, that I can't feel anything toward them, but -"
"But your heart aches when you pretend," said Legolas.
"Exactly!" I said.
"We have much in common for people of two races," said Legolas.
"Ya, we do," I replied. I looked over at Legolas. He was stretched out on the ground, his hands behind his head, the dappled starlight illuminating him. His skin shone somewhat as the celestial light danced on his curly, golden hair and the tips of his ears. An elf, a real elf.
"You intrigue me." said Legolas. He titled his head a bit, as though trying to get a better look at me. "You remind me of someone." A few more moments of silence passed. "How do you know of my world?" asked Legolas, as though trying to change the subject.
"A man named Tolkien wrote about Middle-Earth, about you, Aragorn, Gimli, Frodo, and all the others," I said. "That is why I never thought that you could actually be.well.you."
"There was never a man called Tolkien in Middle-Earth," mused Legolas. "Someone must have told him, not he actually experienced it himself."
"That means that someone else from your world was here!" I said, racking my brain for possibilities. "Yes, someone must have told him."
"Do you have the books he wrote?" asked Legolas.
"Of course," I answered.
"Possibly, I could decipher who would have told him," replied Legolas. "It could have been only someone from or close to the Fellowship to know of some deeds. Not all in Middle-Earth know our complete tale."
"C'mon, I'll go get them," I said. Legolas and I went back to the apartment and I pulled out the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I led Legolas to my bedroom and sat him down on the bed, handing him the Fellowship of the Ring. He began to read, while I sat beside him, waiting for any look of recognition on his face. A few minutes later, Legolas' eyes lit up.
"Samwise." he said.
"Gamgee?" I asked, excitedly.
"Aye," answered Legolas. "I should have known it. He disappeared after retiring from Hobbiton mayor, I have heard told. As hard as they looked, no one could find him, not even Aragorn. They grieved, thinking him dead, but in my heart, I did not feel a void so great as the one Samwise would leave. He must have been the one." I couldn't help but bounce on the bed for joy. There had been someone else here! It wasn't just a story! I threw my arms around Legolas' neck. As I realized what I was doing, I went to pull away, but Legolas had already embraced me. I relaxed in his arms, but as his soft, golden locks brushed my cheek, I pulled away and looked down. Legolas didn't love me. I had found him to help him get back, not to love him. Legolas took my chin in his hand and raised my head until our eyes met.
"Thank you, Sydney, ever so much," he said. "Thank you for everything you have done and everything you shall do. Being away from my home would be suffering, if it were not for you and Peter. I can never tell you how much it means to me."
"No problem," I replied. "It might even be."
"Fun," said Legolas. He smiled happily.
"Ya, fun," I echoed. We looked at each other for a few seconds, Legolas searching my eyes.
"You still remind me of someone.but perhaps that is because we shall become friends.aye, I think that is why, a premonition," said Legolas. I laughed.
"Let's hope so," I replied. "Well, I should go to bed then. I'll show you your room; it's right across the hall. You've got your own bathroom and you can borrow some of Peter's clothes. You two look about the same size. We'll go get you some of your own tomorrow. Alright?"
"Aye," said Legolas, getting up from my bed. He stopped at the door, me right behind him, and looked down at the book still in his hand.
"May I?" he asked.
"Of course," I answered. "It could prove interesting reading for you, I mean, having been in the Fellowship and all."
"Aye," replied Legolas, "and it being Samwise that told it, I believe I shall find Frodo's part in the ordeal a bit overemphasized to say the least." He laughed. "Leave it to Samwise to make his 'Master Frodo' the hero of any tale."
"Being an elf is a curse and a gift, a curse, for me, to see my friends suffer with age and die, but a gift to not feel the effects myself. Being an elf is indeed an odd thing, being of the 'Blessed Ones.' Sometimes you feel things so deeply that you cannot speak of them and when you see another of my race, you can look into their eyes and see their lives written there, their victories, their defeats, their love, their destiny."
Legolas continued to gaze up at the stars, a beer in his hand. I took a sip of my own and thought over what he had just said. That was like it was to be an elf, and from an elf's own lips. I didn't really know what to say after that.
"And to be a human?" asked Legolas suddenly. I almost jumped.
"It's not hard at all. You live, love, die," I said. "That's about it. Nothing really deep unless you want to make it that way."
"Aye," said Legolas. "But most humans do not have the time to make their lives worth anything, unless by chance or accident."
"But it has to be that way with elves, too. I mean, not every one of you can be something amazing," I replied. Legolas laughed softly.
"Of course our race also falls prone to undesirables," he said. "We elves are not perfect.no matter what some shall say. In Middle Earth, people see want they want to see in others, not what is truly there, be it for better or worse."
"It's the same here," I replied. "No one's perfect, as much as some people would like to think they are. Family seems to be a prime example." At this, Legolas laughed heartily.
"Then the elves of my world and humans of yours are more alike that I would have thought," he said. "I find it that way also for me."
"Do you not love your family?" I asked.
"Love and duty are two different things," answered Legolas. "I have a responsibility to them, not a place in my heart."
"Ditto," I replied. Legolas looked over at me.
"You feel the same?" he asked, a sound of amazement in his voice.
"Ya," I answered. "The exact same. And it hurts sometimes, that I can't feel anything toward them, but -"
"But your heart aches when you pretend," said Legolas.
"Exactly!" I said.
"We have much in common for people of two races," said Legolas.
"Ya, we do," I replied. I looked over at Legolas. He was stretched out on the ground, his hands behind his head, the dappled starlight illuminating him. His skin shone somewhat as the celestial light danced on his curly, golden hair and the tips of his ears. An elf, a real elf.
"You intrigue me." said Legolas. He titled his head a bit, as though trying to get a better look at me. "You remind me of someone." A few more moments of silence passed. "How do you know of my world?" asked Legolas, as though trying to change the subject.
"A man named Tolkien wrote about Middle-Earth, about you, Aragorn, Gimli, Frodo, and all the others," I said. "That is why I never thought that you could actually be.well.you."
"There was never a man called Tolkien in Middle-Earth," mused Legolas. "Someone must have told him, not he actually experienced it himself."
"That means that someone else from your world was here!" I said, racking my brain for possibilities. "Yes, someone must have told him."
"Do you have the books he wrote?" asked Legolas.
"Of course," I answered.
"Possibly, I could decipher who would have told him," replied Legolas. "It could have been only someone from or close to the Fellowship to know of some deeds. Not all in Middle-Earth know our complete tale."
"C'mon, I'll go get them," I said. Legolas and I went back to the apartment and I pulled out the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I led Legolas to my bedroom and sat him down on the bed, handing him the Fellowship of the Ring. He began to read, while I sat beside him, waiting for any look of recognition on his face. A few minutes later, Legolas' eyes lit up.
"Samwise." he said.
"Gamgee?" I asked, excitedly.
"Aye," answered Legolas. "I should have known it. He disappeared after retiring from Hobbiton mayor, I have heard told. As hard as they looked, no one could find him, not even Aragorn. They grieved, thinking him dead, but in my heart, I did not feel a void so great as the one Samwise would leave. He must have been the one." I couldn't help but bounce on the bed for joy. There had been someone else here! It wasn't just a story! I threw my arms around Legolas' neck. As I realized what I was doing, I went to pull away, but Legolas had already embraced me. I relaxed in his arms, but as his soft, golden locks brushed my cheek, I pulled away and looked down. Legolas didn't love me. I had found him to help him get back, not to love him. Legolas took my chin in his hand and raised my head until our eyes met.
"Thank you, Sydney, ever so much," he said. "Thank you for everything you have done and everything you shall do. Being away from my home would be suffering, if it were not for you and Peter. I can never tell you how much it means to me."
"No problem," I replied. "It might even be."
"Fun," said Legolas. He smiled happily.
"Ya, fun," I echoed. We looked at each other for a few seconds, Legolas searching my eyes.
"You still remind me of someone.but perhaps that is because we shall become friends.aye, I think that is why, a premonition," said Legolas. I laughed.
"Let's hope so," I replied. "Well, I should go to bed then. I'll show you your room; it's right across the hall. You've got your own bathroom and you can borrow some of Peter's clothes. You two look about the same size. We'll go get you some of your own tomorrow. Alright?"
"Aye," said Legolas, getting up from my bed. He stopped at the door, me right behind him, and looked down at the book still in his hand.
"May I?" he asked.
"Of course," I answered. "It could prove interesting reading for you, I mean, having been in the Fellowship and all."
"Aye," replied Legolas, "and it being Samwise that told it, I believe I shall find Frodo's part in the ordeal a bit overemphasized to say the least." He laughed. "Leave it to Samwise to make his 'Master Frodo' the hero of any tale."