Chapter Four
Heaven?
I hop down the stairs, methodically counting each step to myself.
Twelve, thud. Thirteen, thud. Fourteen, thud.
The stack of loose pages in my arms bounces with each step.
Seventeen, thud. Eighteen, thud. Nineteen -- CRASH!
BANG goes the piano.
All I see is blackness.
Humiliation sends a rush of heat to my face, and a pounding headache ensues. Why did I have to fall here and now? Stupid me; I always knew ballerinas were clutces. Why can't I be the exception to the rule?
"Ai! An i ëar ar elin! Presta? Man martes? Buich?"
I feel strong hands grab me by the waist and lift me to an upright sitting position. I open my eyes.
"Have I died and gone to heaven?" I ask.
The handsome face before me smiles.
"Well, if you call linoleum heaven."
It's the Legolas guy.
I chuckle nervously, extremely embarrassed.
"You said something -- in Elvish!"
He shrugs his shoulders. "Fad."
"What?"
"It's a fad now."
I nod my head slowly. "So you like Lord of the Rings?"
"You could say that, yeah."
"Wow. So how much Elvish do you know?"
"Not too much," he answers. "Do you want some help picking up these papers?"
I look around. Sheets of music lie everywhere.
"That would be really great, thanks."
"No problem."
We get busy. As we pick up each piece my curiosity increases. The Legolas dude speaks Elvish? You've got to be kidding. After a while my inquisitiveness gets the better of me.
"You know, it's kinda funny really, my sister and I think you look like Legolas."
"That's interesting. I don't look anything like Orlando Bloom."
Woah! He's not offended. He's even willing to talk about it. What an awesome guy!
"Umm . . . I know. But it's just, well, you seem -- so elven."
He laughs, a gentle, clear laugh.
"What?" I ask. "What's so funny?"
"Me? An elf?"
"Oh, so you're not?"
He is silent; his deep eyes seem troubled.
"Legolas?"
Instantly I realize my mistake. Why did I let it slip my tongue? Oh, stupid me . . .
"What does that name mean to you?" he asks.
I am at a loss for words.
He continues. "What does that name mean to you? A cute guy with blond hair and eyes that change color? Is it synonymous with Orlando Bloom? Is Legolas a movie star? A hot elf in a movie with cool clothes and stupid lines? Do you dream about him at night and right stories about him during the day? Do you chit chat with your girlfriends about him nonstop? Is he your favorite source of conversation and amusement? When you see the name Legolas in print does it make your face flush and when you see Orlando's picture do you faint? Who is Legolas to you? What does his name really mean?"
I truly don't know how to answer these questions. I half wonder to myself if this guy is insane.
"I don't know. Maybe. Why do you care?"
He sighs. "I don't."
"Liar."
His eyes flash in response. "You're right."
"What?"
"You're right. I do care."
I bite my lip, not knowing what else to do.
"I do care, more than I should. What does that name mean to you?"
I begin to feel sorry for this guy. Poor thing, is he jealous of Orlando or something?
"I guess, I guess I don't know," I answer.
He perks up a little, so I continue.
"I think Legolas is a cool character in an awesome story who has sadly been captured by the unofficial international Hot Elf Fan club. He really is great in the books, and in the movie. It's just he's been taken by the wrong audience, and now no one really remembers who he is."
"Do you truly believe that?" he asks.
I nod my head.
"I lassé an cuil lín ún firitha," he says.
"Hmm?" I ask.
"May the leaves of your life never die."
"Elvish again?"
He smiles. "Yeah, it is, after all, my native tongue."
"Yeah right." He must have some crazy parents.
"No, seriously. And I must say, you have very good instincts."
"Why?"
"Not many people would have guessed it."
"What?"
"I am Legolas."
Translation of Ai! An i ëar ar elin! Presta? Man martes? Buich?
Eek! By the stars and sea! Is there trouble? What happened? Do you need help?