Disclaimer: "When you wish upon a star, makes no diff'rence who you are! Anything your heart desires will come tooooo yooooou…" Yeah, well, Jiminy Cricket hasn't gotten back to me on that one, so I still don't own LOTR. Damn crickets and their empty promises…
A/N: Okay, I think I've driven myself completely crazy. I left my copy of Chapter Twenty-Eight at home while I was at my grandparents (see profile for further explanation) and I ended up having to wait to get home to write because I couldn't really remember what I had written, and consequently had nothing to build off of.
I know I've been absolutely horrible about updating, and I apologize for that. There have been several circumstances beyond my control that severely affected the amount of time I had to write. There's just been a whole lot of stuff tossed at me all at once and I've been pressed for time. I'm really sorry. I've also waited long periods of time for updates from other authors, and I know how frustrating it can be to the readers. Again, I apologize for the delay and I hope most of you will understand.
On a lighter note, this story has received over three hundred reviews, which calls for…REVIEWER APPRECIATION CHAPTER! The only thing is…I have no ideas, which means I need suggestions from all you lovely people out there in reviewer land! If you have any ideas, let me know in your review.
I just finished the fifth Harry Potter book and I loved it. I cried though. Anyhow, I felt that sharing that little fact with you.
Also, I haven't checked my email in about a month, so my lack of response is nothing personal…I just haven't had time lately. And Yahoo is being weird and not letting me log on…I think they're doing some work on their mail features because it won't let me log on to anything.
Ha ha, guess who has her permit? Stay off all roads and sidewalks…fwa ha ha. Anyhow, my driving instructor is the biggest jerk in the world. He's already yelled at me for no reason (I made a mistake on a form). As soon as I pass (knock on wood) I'm filing a complaint. And, according to my little "Rules of the Road" manual thingie, it is illegal to drive on the sidewalks or park on the railroad tracks. There go all my plans. Heh heh, just kidding, but honestly, the book is ridiculous. "Do not pass in a no passing zone." No kidding…
Chapter Twenty-Eight
While reflecting upon past events in their lives, the individual mind will often ponder this universal question: Could I have been more of an idiot????
The answer of course, is yes, but luckily someone remotely sane managed to restrain you before you caused even more damage.
Well…at least according to my experiences.
Throughout my life, I have managed to both knowingly and unknowingly make many decisions that the average person would describe as "really, really dumb." Despite everything, I seem incapable of really learning from my previous blunders, often making the same mistake several times before some tiny part of my brain says "Oh duh" and a small amount of sagacity is gained on my part.
Needless to say, the occurrence of me actually gaining actual experience and wisdom is a very rare and often isolated event.
On that first night in Edoras, my brain apparently ignored or misplaced the memo that served to remind me that large amounts of coffee resulted in a period of sleepy stupor (often paraphrased as "crashing"), preceded by a brief burst of hyperactivity. However, through my sharp skills of observation, I was able to deduce the caffeine's negative impact on my system several minutes after I polished off my sixth cup. The subtle evidence supporting this ingenious conclusion was the fact that Aragorn casually asked me to pass the sugar and I reacted by bursting into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"What is it that you find so amusing?" inquired the Ranger over my loud and disruptive snorts of mirth.
"You…said…'sugar'…" was the only explanation I could manage, my chest heaving from lack of oxygen.
In the next few minutes I was reprimanded several times on various offences, mostly on the grounds of laughing too hard, especially when Gimli (who had officially lapsed into a drunken state after his fifth ale) nearly fell off his chair, mumbling unintelligibly about flying cats.
"Haley!" Aragorn snapped after I upset a bowl of cream, most of it spilling onto his tunic. It was evident that he was losing his patience, making it necessary for me to laugh even harder.
"I'll…I'll getchu, you villain!" slurred Gimli, haphazardly swiping at an invisible foe. "You can't eshcape Gimli the…brave son…Gloin…hmm…gumdrop…"
"Haley that is quite enough!" barked Aragorn, rubbing at his tunic with a napkin. It was the straw that broke the camel's back; his face was scarlet with anger and the increasingly fierce movements of his arms indicated that his tolerance had long since ended.
This made no impression on me, as the tiny amount of good sense I possess had stopped functioning after the fourth cup.
"Aha! You admit defeat!" crowed Gimli, brandishing a spoon and waving it in the direction of Aragorn's shoulder. Aragorn shot a pained look at Legolas as Gimli hacked at his elbow with his spoon.
"Ahhh…ha…frogs," I managed before burying my face into my hands, shoulders quaking with laughter. Théoden, I noticed, was looking slightly perturbed at my growing chortles—his eyebrows kept retreating higher, seeming to seek the shelter of his receding hairline.
Or maybe it had something to do with Gimli's threatening dialogue with invisible enemies. Both of us were acting pretty weird.
Gandalf, however, did not seem surprised in the slightest.
A strong hand suddenly clasped itself in mine and gently pulled me upward, the other softly lighting on my elbow to maintain my balance.
"It is far time you retire," Legolas advised, steering me by the elbow in the direction of the door.
"And you as well, Master Dwarf," Aragorn announced, nudging the mumbling Dwarf at his side.
"I shall not…" Gimli began before breaking off into a mumble.
"Hail Théoden King!" called Legolas in parting, managing an awkward bow in Théoden's direction.
"Peace out." I offered a quick salute before tripping over my own feet and bursting into giggles again. Théoden nodded slightly, gesturing that our dismissal was granted (if not encouraged.) Gandalf raised his hand slightly in my direction, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
With that, Legolas pushed me through the door, thwarting my unconscious attempts to embarrass myself in front of everyone.
"Maybe you should drink water next time," mused Legolas, falling into step beside me. I considered it for a moment before shaking my head.
"I'd probably find some way to get hyper off of that too," I replied. "On that note it'd probably be wise on your part to never allow me to touch ale." I tripped over a rug as I was saying, thus confirming the point I was trying to make.
"I quite agree," he responded, grabbing me by the elbow in a vain attempt to keep me balanced. His hand remained at my elbow, sparking that familiar feeling of extreme happiness somewhere in my caffeine-saturated mind. I continued down the hall feeling oddly disengaged from my body, yet extremely happy all the same. Of course, I babbled on like an idiot, probably ruining the moment completely, but I was too elated and hyped up to really care about anything beyond the hand at my elbow.
Jeez, you're overreacting, an obnoxious voice sounded inside my mind.
I am not, I returned as I climbed the stairs, I'm happy. I've got a right to be happy about it. It's a step in the right direction.
Hello, it's not like you're making out with him or something.
Well, that'd be hard to do when we're walking. Duh. Anyway, I'm sick of listening to my doubts and insecurities. Shut up.
Don't tell me to shut up…
Hey, this is my mind! I can tell you to shut up if I…okay, I'm not only talking to myself, I've started arguing with myself. That can't be good…well, I guess I'd win either way…right? Yeah, okay.
There are sometimes when I wonder if men really understand the emotional turmoil they cause within a woman's mind. I asked Aragorn later and his response was as follows (and this is without the influence of televised sports): "Huh?"
My guess is no.
While I was contemplating the issue of male intelligence, we managed to pass my room three times before I noticed. The irony of the situation continues to amaze me.
"I never said I was a genius," I argued, receiving the Legolas Look of Death (the main message in this particular look was "Duh") in response. "Well, excuse me, Lassie," I replied, rolling my eyes, "but you should know that I probably couldn't find my way out of an open cardboard box. And with six cups of coffee in my system, I probably couldn't find my way in the box in the first place—wait, I've turned that into a paradox or something…never mind. Anyhow—" I stopped in mid-sentence. The latch was not yielding to the pressure of my fingers. Annoyed, I shook the handle, hoping to loosen up whatever was causing the blockage. I tried again, this time giving the door a good shove.
It was locked.
"Dammit…" I muttered, shaking the latch again. It wouldn't budge. I glared at it angrily.
"May I?" asked Legolas, frowning slightly. I stepped aside, letting Super Elf have a turn at the door. When it became obvious to him that he had no special abilities concerning inanimate objects, he sighed and turned to me expectantly.
"Don't look at me," I said, folding my arms over my stomach. "Last time I checked, you're the one who's like five-thousand years old. You're the one with experience and intelligence; you do something."
"Two-thousand-nine-hundred-and-thirty-one," he corrected, raising an eyebrow slightly.
"Same thing," I responded, shrugging.
"Hardly."
I rolled my eyes and was about to deliver a smart-aleck response when a door two doors down swung open and a slight boy emerged, a tray of dirty dishes balanced precariously on his left hand. My spirits brightened considerably.
"Hey," I greeted once he had shut the door and transferred the tray to both hands. He looked up and cautiously approached, jerking his head in a curt bow.
"Yes milady?" he inquired timidly.
"Uh…hi. Yeah…um I'm kind of locked out," I began awkwardly. "Do you have the key to this room or do you know who does?" I smiled as an afterthought, praying he wasn't as stupid as he looked.
"Oh, I 'aven't got th' keys, milady, but Celia an' Margaret do," he offered, seeming slightly proud that he could provide a small piece of information. I sighed happily.
"Great. Where can I find them?" I returned, smiling gratefully. I'm saved, I'm saved…I sang internally.
"Oh, Margaret's gone 'ome for the night—you know, 'cause 'er knees give 'er trouble—but Celia's still 'ere."
"Wonderful. Where is she?"
"…Unless today's…oh…she's out tending to 'er mum…she usually does on account of 'er mum getting up in the years—it's hard for 'er to get on an' all that. She should be back in an hour or so, dependin' on how well the old lady's doin' today. Sorry, milady," he explained, shrugging slightly. The song in my head had since changed its lyrics to Oh shit, oh shit…
"Oh…crap. Well, uh…thanks anyway," I replied, my shoulders sinking with my hopes. The servant boy gave a quick bow and smiled foolishly, despite the situation.
"Glad to be of service, milady," he responded with a cheerful grin before retreating down the hall, whistling a lively tune.
Must…not…scream…I thought, slowly sliding down the wall and into a sitting position, tucking my legs under me. Leaning my head back against the wall, I was immediately confronted with the sight of Legolas staring down at me.
"What? Do you want permission to leave or something?" I demanded, knitting my eyebrows together.
"Don't be ridiculous," he scolded in reply.
"Too late, bucko." I shut my eyes, taking that response as his farewell. Silence followed and I assumed he had left me to wait for Celia. I opened one eye about half a minute later and found him still standing there, looking slightly impatient.
Oooh, he's pretty attractive when he's irritated…
"You can leave. I can wait here," I muttered. The buzz from the coffee was slowly wearing off and I could feel myself growing tired and sluggish.
"I'm not going to leave you here," he replied. I rolled my eyes. "Come on." He tugged gently at my arm.
"Lassie, dear, I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't exactly got anywhere to go," I informed him sarcastically.
"Well, Duck, you can come sit in my quarters until Celia returns," he answered, hoisting me to my feet.
He-llo…well that changes everything…
I staggered to my feet, feigning reluctance, attempting to hide my blush with a curtain of hair, letting Legolas practically drag me down the hall
Don't get so worked up, he's just being nice…and ensuring the fact that you won't wreak any more havoc on Edoras.
Yeah, well…DAMMIT I'M DOING IT AGAIN!
I trailed after him, trying desperately to stop talking and arguing with myself for no other reason than the fact that I can't seem to reach an opinion about anything, and to stop blushing like some fainting lovesick idiot. Despite this uncomfortable situation, I have not and will not become a simpering wimp who can't form a sentence without sticking an "Ah me!" in there somewhere. I will never be like that.
I just might faint, that's all.
I suppose I should be thankful that Legolas knew where he was going, but at that point I was too numb to really care. I was forced (by Legolas) to stop dragging my feet and whining several minutes into the journey or face being carried like a sack of potatoes. For the record, I had absolutely no problem with being carried by Legolas (it'd be an…interesting view), but fortunately common sense restrained me. Besides, I can think of a hundred other ways that would be much more romantic than being tossed over someone's shoulder and lugged around. Anyhow, I grumbled and fell into pace beside him, occasionally shooting him a look. Eventually I got bored with that and attempted to trip him up instead, not taking certain important aspects, such as his catlike reflexes, into account. I soon found myself face to face with the floor and tripping Legolas was no longer tempting or amusing.
After that I pretty much stuck to the occasional glare and cough that cleverly concealed the word "butthead." I'm not sure if he noticed or not, because he didn't seem irritated.
Then again, my terminology might not have been very effective either.
He eventually came to a stop at what was supposedly his room. I had half-expected to find the door shut and be forced to return to the hall, but surprisingly, the door easily swung open.
"I made a request," he replied in explanation to my raised eyebrow.
I wonder if it's possible for him to be negligent about anything…
He held the door open and made an exaggerated sweep with his right arm. I grumbled and shuffled into the room, elbowing him slightly as I passed.
The room I stepped into was slightly more modern than my own, with dark wooden paneling in place of the grey stone walls and a floor that was apparently made with some sort of leveling device (the floor in my room was modeled after the Middle-earth equivalent of the Rocky mountains). Bookshelves and various cabinetries had been built into the walls, leaving more room for furniture, most of which appeared to have no function whatsoever (I swear to God he had like three different armoires and there were quite a few tables that seemed purely ornamental. My question is: who needs more than one decorative table?) A large canopy bed draped with many coverlets (all various shades of red and gold) was tucked in the corner next to one of the mysterious armoires. Two faded emerald green armchairs were situated near one of the larger bookshelves and a small writing desk. Heavily brocaded curtains hung about the windows, drawn shut for the night, the gold cords hanging absently at the sides.
"Cool," I remarked, looking around the room in approval. "I call the big comfy chair!" I sprinted over to the largest of the armchairs and hurled myself into the seat, displacing a table as I went. Although he probably could have beaten me to it, Legolas made no attempt to thwart my chances at gaining access to the chair. He quietly seated himself in the remaining chair as I quickly righted the table.
"So Lassie, what do you want to talk about?" I inquired, squirming as I attempted to sit Indian-style in the chair, skirts and all. "There's…weather and…uh…weapons…and…Middle-earth stuff that I still don't get…" I groped for another topic. "Uh…goats…"
"You rarely mention your own home," he responded. Silence followed, unasked questions hanging in the air. I took a deep breath.
"My home…you want to know about my home...."
I lost track of what I said after that, going into complicated explanations of technology—and a few other things, such as the concept of the American government and television. I thought about educating him on some culture points, such as the Macerana, but I concluded that it would be best left alone.
"It's weird though," I said sometime later. "I'm happy here. I miss…" I swallowed a lump in my throat. I had managed to avoid speaking about my personal past for nearly all of the conversation (not to mention the fact that I had not really spoken about it for over three months) and to mention Aunt Kate was suddenly incredibly difficult. I took a deep breath and continued, trying to hide the quaver in my voice. "I…I…mi—I miss my aunt a lot…but I think I'm happier here than I could have ever been at home…" I inhaled deeply through my nose, calming myself slightly.
There was a long moment of silence before I spoke again.
"Well, I've talked for a long time…probably more than you want to hear," I began, attempting to sound cheerful. "So…I'm going to ask you a question…" I thought quietly for a few moments. One question kept reappearing in my thoughts, a question that had been left unanswered for a long time. I tried to think of something else, but I found myself blurting out "What if we lose?"
"What exactly do you mean?" Legolas replied, frowning slightly.
"What if we lose this whole war? What then? I mean, aside from the complete chaos and end of the world business…what will happen?" I was searching hopelessly for words and found myself retreating back to the simple question I had asked before.
He was silent for a long time, and I began to wonder if he understood anything I was trying to say.
"I cannot say exactly…most envision the apocalypse you described. But it is for that reason—the fear of the unknown terror—that we must fight and triumph." He gazed into the dying fire as he spoke, looking slightly distraught. I sat back and reflected upon what he had just said. I wasn't completely sure that I understood everything he had just said, but it seemed right in a bizarre way that I could not fully understand.
Then again, it could have been the coffee.
A sharp rap on the door interrupted our silence. Before either of us could give consent to enter, the door burst open and in marched Celia, her cheeks red with a sort of embarrassed flurry, distracting the eye from the dark circles that were beginning to form under her eyes.
"Mistress!" she exclaimed, seeming both relieved and reproving all at once.
"Hey Celia, what's—" I began, waving in greeting.
"It is far too late for you to be out and about!" she chastised, her mouth forming a stern, hard line.
"Eh, I had like six cups of—" I shrugged.
"…You need your rest!" she interrupted, shaking a finger at me.
"Uh…elves don't slee—"
"Honestly! Up at this hour! It's a wonder you managed three months in the wild with these habits!"
"No, seriously—"
"And look at this dress! Wrinkled for sure! And you've got something down the front as well!"
"It was Gimli's—"
"It's straight to your quarters! You look a fright! Bid this gentleman goodnight and be on your way." She had somehow managed to get me out of my chair and on my feet during this time and was hurriedly ushering me to the door.
"Uh…well…bye…" I said to Legolas in parting, mouthing 'Sorry!' as Celia shepherded me through the door and into the hall. I caught a brief glimpse of him nodding slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Celia accompanied me down the hall, muttering non-stop about the state of my dress and hair. "Shouldn't be out at this time. Why if Mother were here there'd be none of this nonsense, young ladies staying out past—" I blocked her out after awhile and happily replayed the last few minutes I had spent with Legolas.
"—none of this cheek, let me tell you…" Celia was still grumbling when we reached my door.
"Uh, Celia, who are you talking to?" I inquired, snapping out of my little daydream.
"Improper, mistress, to be out with a young man at this hour!" she expostulated, as she fitted the key into the lock, completely ignoring my previous question. "And in his quarters as well! What do you expect people to think?"
"Okay, I confess. We went into his room and had wild sex and then put our clothes back on and had a deep philosophical discussion about good and evil," I replied, hanging my head in mock shame.
"You have got quite a mouth, mistress. That kind of talk isn't becoming to a lady, mind you—" Celia exclaimed indignantly, opening the door.
"You seem to have a lot of ideas on what doesn't become a lady…
"Mistress!"
I was then forced to endure a twenty-minute lecture on etiquette as she helped me dress for bed. I managed to keep most of my comments to myself.
"Goodnight, mistress. And take care you—"
"Yeah, yeah, no mattress dancing. Honestly Celia, we were just talking…"
"You best keep away from gentlemen's rooms…"
"Celia…"
"If you say so, mistress, but take care to mind yourself…"
"Oh, don't I always?"
Celia raised an eyebrow in response. I smiled.
"You've known me for what, twelve hours, and you already have me figured out."
"Well…I was a girl, once. And you remind me a bit of myself…too cheeky for your own good."
"I try my best."
"Goodnight, mistress."
The door shut behind her softly. I listened in the darkness for the click of the lock. I smiled at the silence, broken only by the distant shuffle of Celia's feet as she made her way down the hall. I rolled over, pulling the blankets high over my shoulders and reflected.
A drunken dwarf, an overdose of caffeine, conversations with myself, Legolas' room, and Celia fussing about everything like an overgrown hen.
Definitely the weirdest night ever…despite the absence of wild sex preceding a philosophical discussion.
A/N: This was supposed to be up sooner (I didn't count on having to revise this chapter), but there's been some stuff going on…mainly, we lost our power for two days and our internet for three. Broadband was sold to Comcast and there's been some adjustment stuff that we had to go through. There's also been some death and illness inside and outside of my family and things haven't been really smooth. Anyhow, I'm sorry I was so delayed and I'm working much harder to get stuff up.