"How is she doing today?"
"I would know if I got to see her," Russel murmured from the sofa.
Anne threw her bag next to him, looming above him with her crossed arms. "What are you doing if you are not tending to her, may I ask?"
Russel looked up from the book he was reading. "Are you absolutely sure of this, Anne?" She rolled her eyes and strode to the kitchen to turn on the stove. She put on a kettle to heat water, and when she turned around, barely found the time to gasp with surprise. "I mean...this is...insane!" he hissed with urgency, grasping her arm.
"I know," Anne groaned and walked by him towards the cabinet. "You'll get used to it. Will take some time, though."
He remained on his spot, agape, the book clenched under his arm, his finger marking the spot. "But..." he began, moments later, with the same urgent whisper, "...how...I mean...how could he be..."
"For God's sake, Russel! How many times do I need to tell you? He is Legolas. THE Legolas. And Eric is Haldir. THE Haldir. And Irulan is Aragorn's..."
"Stop!" he groaned and held up the book to his face, as if seeking protection. "It's too much!" A moment passed while she crossed her arms once more and looked up at him with an amused expression. "So...all this stuff..." he began, slowly lowering the book with a look of awe on his face, "was true?"
"Wrong, Russel," she said, smiling slyly. "All that stuff IS true."
He groaned in reply to that and she sighed, giving him an overall look. Her eyes glided to the title of the volume in his hand: The Two Towers. "I know how you feel. I really do. It's not easy to digest."
"You can say that again," he moaned, scratching his head.
"Too bad that you had such a hasty introduction," she sighed and went back to the stove to turn it off. The steam washed up to her face as she poured the hot water into the cup that held a bag of herbal tea. "I mean," she shook her head, grinning to herself, "a head-on bust with Legolas himself on your first meeting!" Russel looked back with a dry expression when she glanced at him. "That's not your usual meeting with elves." He moaned again and hit his forehead with the book with a loud thud. "And it got even worse after that," Anne chirped, her grin broadening. "Wait...did you really threaten him?"
"Oh stop!" he huffed and walked back to the living room. He caught himself biting his nails and immediately snatched his hand back. "I must say...the guy has some patience not to kill me off."
"It's not his patience that you should be grateful for," she chimed, passing by him and making towards the bedroom, "but the fact that you are Irulan's friend." She heard him sink back onto the couch once more with a frustrated sigh as she arrived at the door and knocked. As usual, no sound came from within. Anne ignored the lack of reply and dived in.
"Go away," was the mumble of a statement from the huddled form on the bed.
"Grow up," the blonde woman countered without a blink and walked to sit on the edge of the bed.
"This is MY room, damn it!" Irulan moaned and turned to lie on her back, staring at the ceiling.
"And I am YOUR friend. I have permission. Now let me see how much uglier you got today." She glanced at Irulan's face. "Oh my...if you keep this up, you'll sure scare ME away, Irulan."
"One can only hope," the other mumbled, still staring at the ceiling. She was aware, of course, that she must look horrible. It had been 3 days since Chinatown and the illness had returned with renewed fervor. By this time, Irulan was suspecting a strange relation between this damnable flu and her relationship with Legolas, but she would die sooner than admit it.
Anne showed the mug. "Up, Irulan. You have to drink this."
The other huffed and remained motionless for another moment, then slowly forced herself to sit up. She smelled the sweat that was hanging in the air and the dank odor of sickness. Anne sighed and moved to the windows to part the curtains. Thankfully the weather fit her mood – it was a humid, wet summer twilight and therefore there was no assault of light into the room. "How is Russel?" she croaked.
"In shock," Anne murmured, gazing into the street before she returned to sit at the edge. "He'll get over it."
"How can I be so stupid?!" Irulan hissed, her fingers gliding over the hot mug nervously.
"I didn't realize that you were calling him by his real name, either. And..." she grinned to that, "...neither did Legolas, I must add." After that, they had had no option but to reveal the whole truth to Russel, who would have never bought a false and stupid explanation. Not that Irulan or Anne had the imagination to come up with a false explanation to something like that, anyway. Irulan rolled her eyes and looked away, taking a sip from the tea. "Haldir says he is sick," Anne added with a cautious tone. The sick woman stilled and for a moment the only sound that was heard was her gulping down the tea in her mouth. "He calls me every damn hour," was the moan of an addition. "The guy is so panicked, I find it hard to believe that he is the elven warrior and I am the human who has to console him!"
"Is he...I mean..." she cleared her throat, "...how sick?"
"I don't know," Anne shrugged. "I guess nothing major. Sounds like the flu that you have. But of course him being an elf and the fact that elves never get sick...." She let her voice trail and gave Irulan a sidelong glance to measure her reaction. To her expectation, the news seemed to disturb the other woman.
"He'll be fine," Irulan groaned finally, sitting back to lean onto the headboard. Anne said nothing. And her silence was more annoying than her usual accusations. "It's probably this...Bond or something," Irulan continued, waving her free hand dismissively. "He'll be all right when it's..." she bit her lip, short from saying 'dead' and instead croaked "...over."
"Your pride, Irulan," Anne said suddenly, hissing into the silent room, "has made both of you sick!" Irulan met her gaze and held her breath with the fury she saw in those eyes. "And STILL all you do is wave your hand dismissively." Irulan swallowed, feeling a blush of shame creeping onto her cheeks. At this moment all she wanted to do was to break down and cry on Anne's shoulder but Anne looked like she would sooner offer her fist than her shoulder. "When you were ill, he rushed here as if his life was on the line. And YOU...you wave your hand!" The last part came out rather loud and Irulan placed the shaking mug on her lap, looking down at it.
Several minutes later Anne got up and walked to the door. She was a person who seldom got angry. But her anger was one that should to be avoided. She looked back at Irulan for a long moment before she spoke again. "I'm glad that Baeron isn't here to see it. Would have been torture for him to know that he died for this pride."
That was a slap Irulan was not expecting. She fell back onto the bedboard with a thud, her eyes wide with shock, her hands shaking. The rational part of her hastily placed the mug away before she sank onto the pillows again. The major part, though, was too ashamed to think of anything other than the continuing echo of Anne's last words in her head.
"/My Lord, forgive me for saying this...but...this is...foolish!/" Legolas did not answer. He continued inspecting the designs on the ceiling in his room. His focus was on himself. Or rather, his physical status. Sickness was a completely new experience and unlike the bewildered Haldir, he thought it rather interesting. The elven rambling in the background continued. "/...obvious that it's the Bond! You MUST do something! It is not natural! Not normal! And certainly not good!/"
"It'll pass," he said finally, closing his eyes. When he looked up again, Haldir was looming over him with a worry that looked rather silly on his face. "You know it will. It is just a phase."
"Just a phase!" Haldir huffed, then reverted back to Elvish "/She is ill, too – you know that./"
"I know," was the late and slow reply.
"Well good to know that you care so much!" If it had not come from Haldir, he would have called the tone downright sarcastic. But Haldir would never be sarcastic to Legolas. But then again...Haldir would not be this worried for anything, either.
"Russel will take good care of her, I'm sure," he spat before he could stop himself. His furious blue gaze locked into the sheepish one of the Lothlorien elf and they stared at each other, mirror images of beauty and anger. A long moment passed and the clock ticked on.
"Very much like Amanda takes care of you, I suppose," was the dry reply.
Legolas' eyebrows rose in surprise at the attitude he was witnessing. It took him several moments to digest it and when he opened his mouth for a harsh statement, it was too late. For Amanda chose to stride in right at that moment. "Hello Eric! How are you?"
Haldir's eyes gained an apparent frostiness at her tone, but he took his time to turn around and look at her. "Good. Thank you."
Amanda smiled a gorgeous smile, walking by him to sit at the edge of the bed. She had not noticed that Haldir had avoided asking the same question to her, on purpose. "And how are you?" she said with a slow, deep tone, brushing Legolas' hair from his face.
"In an interesting state, no doubt," Legolas said. Even though he was sick, his smile was breath-taking. Amanda's eyes sparkled with it and to Haldir's utter surprise she hesitated only for a moment before she leaned in to place a single quick kiss on his lips. When she pulled back, her excitement was spreading on her cheeks in a beguiling blush and she swallowed nervously before she turned to look up at Haldir.
"So nice of you to visit, Eric," she said, her voice shaking with excitement at the simple gesture from a moment ago.
"I came to visit Heath," Haldir stressed with a frosty tone. It was the second time he managed to surprise Legolas. And merely minutes apart, too! The Prince's gaze rose to him once more and found nothing but cool composure in the stance of the other. It was very unlike Haldir to be this rude. Especially to a lady. Especially to one of his friends. Like all elves, Haldir was almost obsessed with politeness and etiquette and for him to shut off Amanda like he did now was a first since Legolas had met him. And Legolas had met him a long, long time ago. "But I suppose I can leave now that YOU are here."
Amanda's excitement vanished as quickly as it had come and melted first into confusion, then quickly into fear. She had no clue what was going on, but this attitude was both unusual and rather scary to her, so she kept her silence, casting down her eyes. Haldir met Legolas' furious look rather easily and meant to match it, too. Unfortunately the phone rang.
All three remained another moment in the tense atmosphere they were dragged into, and finally it was Amanda who decided to make herself useful and picked up the phone. "Yes? Yes, of course." A short silence. "Hello?" Amanda said into the receiver, her voice a little strained. "Yes...how are you?" Another interlude as Legolas strained to hear the voice on the other end but the sickness seemed to have weakened his senses, too. When the blonde woman turned to glance back at him he just raised his eyebrows in question. "Yes...of course," Amanda continued dryly and then walked up to Legolas with the cordless phone in her hand. "It's Irulan," she said and his hand froze in mid-air.
Haldir, who had walked towards the tall windows and had been watching the view outside turned around with a surprised look on his face and the looks of both elves met. Legolas then slowly looked up to meet the slanted blue eyes of Amanda. He hesitated only to give her a reassuring smile before he grasped the phone. She bit her lip with anxiety, then made to walk out. "No," Legolas said, "stay." Amanda halted in her tracks, surprised. He took a deep breath and said "Yes, Irulan?" into the receiver.
"Hello, Legolas." Her voice was raspy. Evident proof that she was indeed sick again. Though it was more than expected, he still felt a stab of worry with the thought. "How are you?"
"Fine." His tone was completely expressionless. "And you?"
"I heard you were ill," Irulan said after a moment of hesitation. Obviously she was not expecting such a cold treatment.
"I'll get over it," was his dismissive reply. 'Control yourself,' Legolas chanted in his head over and over again. 'It is over. Don't forget. It is over.' He took a deep breath, his eyes gliding to Amanda, who stood a few feet away, unsure what to do with herself. "Is everything all right?" he said finally, to break the long silence. It was awkward enough to speak with Irulan like this - as if she was anybody, not the love of his life. And it was becoming harder by the minute.
"Yes," she stammered, thrown off-balance by his attitude. "Yes. I just...I called because..." She swallowed and he waited in silence. "...I'm sorry, Legolas. I want to apologize."
"Please don't," he said, amazed by how blank he sounded, himself. "I am the one to apologize. For the discomfort I caused for the past months."
Irulan felt herself at the brink of tears. Though she knew that this was no other than Legolas, at that moment she could have sworn that it was someone else - a complete stranger. Surely not the man who had been whispering nothing but support and compliments to her for months! Who had been nothing but willing and kind! His distance was not the worst part, though. It was the fact that she deserved this treatment. This and much worse. She opened her mouth, then closed it, afraid that she would utter a whimper instead. Only after several deep breaths did she find the ability to continue. "I'm sorry," she whispered then, "I don't...I don't think I will...see you for a while?" Irulan managed to make the question tentative and even inviting. And in her heart of hearts she wanted him to say 'Silly you. Of course you will see me! As soon as I get off this bed and come banging on your door again!'
"You won't see me ever again," was the real answer, though. She gasped deftly with his words and Legolas hesitated, suddenly very uncomfortable at his own attitude. Certainly this was not what he wanted to tell Irulan! Surely this shouldn't be his way of parting from someone so dear! This was...human and low. He was a man of finer nature and much better class.
"I know I deserved this," she said finally and Legolas could hear it in her voice that she was crying and trying not to show it. His defenses threatened to give in quite a bit at that. "And more than this. I am ashamed. I am no heir of Aragorn, Legolas."
"The sad part is that you are," was his slow comment. 'Stop it!' the voice in his head screamed at that and he sat up with discomfort, growing aware of what he had just said. Irulan had called to apologize and he was hitting her back for it. "It doesn't matter any longer," he added with haste. He was aware that it would never undo his sharp words from a moment ago and he felt sizzling shame at the realization of his utterance. "It is over, Irulan. You won. I lost. We have said our good-byes." Though it was said to make up for his blunder a moment ago, it seemed an even harsher thing to say. Legolas swallowed and sat up further. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. This was NOT how he wanted to speak to her. Not at all. A distant part of him felt Amanda's hand on his shoulder, but his focus was on Irulan alone.
She didn't speak for several moments and just when he was about to beg for apology and forgiveness, she whispered, "It seems so. I was only hoping..."
She didn't continue and Legolas surprised himself once again by speaking up. "To stay friends?" He swallowed the bitter taste that came every time he uttered the word. "I don't want to be your friend, Irulan," was his last statement.
"Yes," she said finally and gulped down another whimper. "I understand. Good-bye, Legolas."
He said nothing in return, suddenly feeling very anxious. He had not uttered this word and a part of him still refused to utter it. It sounded...wrong. Very wrong. No matter what happened between them..it sounded wrong.
Before he could reply in any fashion, she hung up on him. And it was probably a better thing, with the way he was speaking today. He remained motionless for another moment, then turned off the phone. "What just happened?" Haldir said with heavy disbelief in his voice, approaching the bed.
"Nothing," murmured Legolas. He took another deep breath, feeling euphoria setting in. "Nothing," he repeated with a stronger tone a moment later when he locked eyes with the Marchwarden. "The past is forever behind us." He glanced at Amanda and she glided to sit down on the edge of the bed once more. "We should look ahead. To the future." Haldir's eyes spoke volumes when Legolas met his gaze once more, trying to sound as certain as he wished he was. "It is time to forget."
"That, my friend," was Haldir's dry reply as he walked towards the door, "is a luxury YOU don't have."
Legolas watched him exit. He felt the sickness pulsing in his veins, dulling his brain, clogging his lungs. 'How can humans think with so much chaos in their bodies?' he thought distantly. Haldir closed the door behind him and Legolas exhaled in frustration. In a matter of minutes he seemed to have lost two of the dearest people to him. Amanda sighed and lay her palm against his face. The cool touch felt incredibly good. At the same time, it felt sinful and dirty in an unexplainable manner. He smiled to her, hoping that his elven blankness would serve to hide his true sentiments.
Irulan sank bed onto the bed. The noise from the main street was dwindling into her room, which was located in a tiny side street. She sat in the dark, listening to the cluster of music, shouting, laughter, singing, and exclamations. At the moment, these sentiments were incredibly foreign and made her feel...alien. A stranger. An outsider. Right now, being in New York in this giddy summer time made her feel as if she was in a country that was as different from her own as could be and she was completely clueless. A fear came onto her. But with the fear came also a certain desire to BE an alien. To BE away from all that she had grown fond of and all that she was familiar with. She wanted to be punished. She wanted a bill to pay. And at the same time, she wanted to defy all of it and damn the bill and show the world that she didn't care about her sins, or her crimes.
Finally the unthinkable had happened. Legolas had refused her. Rejected her. Legolas had said that it was final. And so it would be. "Why can't we be together?" she thought, a deep ache buzzing in her heart. "Why can't we be apart?" She looked back at their brief time together, then their longer phase apart and found only chaos, fight, struggle, deceit. And yet, there was the glimmer of true love amongst those pillars of fire – calming and soothing. Was it enough to balance the madness?
"How free are those without any choice", she wrote in her laptop that day. "If only I could have such luxury! If only I had less pride and fear and if only I would not take every choice so much to the heart! If I could have just flung myself into this affair and enjoyed the amazing courting of Legolas! But no...I am no such woman. For me, the world is not a checkboard of pleasure and the lack of it. Curse this complicated brain of mine! I yearn to be free – I yearn to be without choice."
That night, when she was lying in her bed and watching the ceiling glimmer with the dim light of the tumult from outside, Irulan thought of China. The tundras of China that she had meant to see with Baeron. And then she thought of Baeron's estate that was somewhere in a small village, in the inner wild lands of China. One of his many estates. That now belonged to her.
The idea woke something in her. And though she did not know exactly what it was, it was suspiciously similar to what people called 'wanderlust'. The desire to hit the road. To walk out and end somewhere new and uncharted. To see things that stood at the other side of this planet, waiting with alluring charm for her to taste them, touch them, patiently observe them.
She sighed and turned to her side. 'Why not go?' she thought. The terrible part was that she had no answer why she should not go. She could tell her boss that she would be writing an article about China. Or her experience with the people there. The trip itself. He would be more than supportive. Anything foreign and exotic was a welcome for a NY magazine. "So why not go?" she thought again.
And fell asleep on the thought.
In her dream, she was sitting in knee-high grass on an open plain. Sharp outlines of hills stood scattered in the mist that surrounded the grassy plain. It was silent, only the occasional chirping of a bird or the humming of an insect was audible. There was a humid, slightly cool breeze in the air and the dry, scratchy grass shuddered and hissed with it.
"Very different, isn't it?" Baeron said from beside her. In reality she would have thought it strange, maybe even eerie for him to be there with her. But in this dream world, it seemed completely normal. She smiled and gave him a sidelong glance. He looked as majestic as ever – his tousled sandy hair, his beautiful, masculine facial features...dark navy jeans and a black wool turtleneck made him look even more handsome, if such a thing was possible. "You should see this, Irulan," he sighed, fumbling with a piece of grass between his fingers.
"It seems very...disconnected from the rest of the world," she said a long moment later, as the crickets sang a chorus around her.
"Aye," was the whisper of a reply. "Helps you to look at things from the outside. From another angle."
Irulan took a deep breath, the overpowering scent of nature heavy in her lungs. She felt his hand on the back of her head, then, combing through her hair. "Ancient days linger in this place," he whispered many moments later, just when the drowsiness of relaxation was setting in on her. "I feel at home in such settings. They are old. Like me." A moment passed as his long fingers kept combing through her dark mane. "You should see this," he sighed once more. "You should see me."
She opened her eyes with the sound of someone dropping a bunch of metal objects outside in the street. It took her several moments to understand where she was, so real had been the dream. New York swam back to her with a lazy pace. She sighed, her eyes tearing despite herself. "Baeron," she whispered and the familiar ache dwindled into her spirit. "Baeron. Help me."
It was many minutes later, when her hot tears had begun to dry on her face when she realized that he already had.
"Irulan? Come now...don't be childish. Open the door and we can..."
"The door is open."
Anne gave Russel an anxious glance and the other stared back, shrugging. She sighed and turned the knob. As promised, it opened easily enough. The view that greeted the duo was not a very appealing one.
The room that had been placid and dark with sickness for the last few days was in complete chaos at the moment. Every piece of clothing seemed to have been removed from the drawers and the closets, and then thrown leisurely over the shoulder. The chamber was full with them. In the middle, stood Irulan. Or rather, she MOVED there, going back and forth in a dizzying pace. "What on earth...?" began Russel, but found nothing to say. So Anne continued, instead:
"Irulan...are you going through a seizure or something?" She had no clue what the violation of the Bond was capable of doing and Haldir had only mentioned minor sickness for Irulan...but at the moment, she dared to think otherwise.
"I am well, thank you", was her dry reply as she didn't even so much as glance in their direction. "And," she sighed, stuffing another article into the large backpack on the bed, "and before you ask – yes, I am going away."
For a moment, the usually over-chatty duo truly found nothing to say. Which was a miraculous state for both Anne and Russel.
"I decided to take a break," Irulan said, her eyes wandering in the chamber.
"When...when will you come back?" Russel heard himself saying.
"I don't know," was the dry response.
"Wh-what?!"
"I – don't – know," Irulan repeated, this time locking eyes with Anne. Her stare glided at Russel beside her, then. "I need to...I need to go. That's all I know."
Another moment of silence. Again, Russel broke it first. "Where to?"
"China," Irulan sighed and found a pen to slide into one of the many pockets of her backpack.
"CHINA?!" When Irulan's head snapped around to give him an amazed look, he managed to soften his tone a bit. "I mean...why China?"
She shrugged. "Why not?" She slowly sank onto the bed, fixing her eyes on the floor. "Baeron had an estate there. I will go and see it."
"Irulan," Anne said, finally waking from her trance, "are you insane? China? Now? You don't even..."
"Yes, Anne!" The hiss stopped her immediately. "China. Now. Me. And let me tell you that I've had it with being suffocated by you two!" They swallowed simultaneously, giving her an uneasy look. "I already have a mother, Anne. And a father, too, Russel. So thank you very much, but your current role in my life is rather unnecessary. I am going. I...need to clear my mind."
"But why China, Irulan?" Russel tried, softer. "You don't know that place! And I mean...where is this estate?" By the look she gave him, he knew he had assumed the "father" role again and hastily added "I mean...why not...Florence? Or...I don't know...the Carribean? Eh...Greece?"
"Because China is as far as I can go, before I start coming back, Russel!" she spat to him. "It's on the other side of the planet!"
"But..."
"I am going, damn it!"
Another tense silence. Finally Anne sighed. "Fine. I always wanted to see China, anyway."
"You are not coming Anne," she sighed and rose up once more to continue her packing. "And no, neither are you, Russel."
"But..."
"NO! Enough! I want to be alone!" They stopped immediately when Irulan reeled to them with that fire in her eyes. "I don't need anyone. I don't WANT anyone."
"But...we...why?"
She remained, her back turned to her friends. All she wanted to say was 'Because I am a disgusting, unworthy person and I don't deserve friends!' She swallowed and looked at her backpack. 'Because I am selfish and weak and I can't find it in myself to change. Who am I to ask Legolas to change? Me, who can't be anything but...THIS!' Instead, though, she said "Because I don't want YOU." She turned to glare at the woman and the man, who seemed to be too shocked to look hurt. "Goodbye."
She returned to the act of packing and ignored her friends rooted at the doorstep. 'I have no friends,' she told herself over and over again. 'I have no one. I am alone. I deserve to be alone.'
After many minutes Anne slowly closed the door. She walked back to the living room and Russel followed, slowly. "This is all my fault," the blonde woman was whispering. "All this is my fault."
"Come on, Anne!" he protested -perhaps a bit too strongly to prevent her from the dread she was in- "You went to visit Legolas and told him that Irulan was sick. It was a good deed. How can this all be your fault?" She bit her lip and sank onto the sofa while he imitated her. "Besides," he added a moment later, "it may be a good thing. This...trip, I mean. Irulan is right, you know. She needs her space. And now since there is no Legolas, either...she might actually get it."
Anne shook her head in denial. "No, Russel. China? Irulan? Alone? It has 'trouble' written all over it!" Russel, of course, knew this to be true, therefore wisely shut his mouth. "And Legolas!" She moaned, covering her face with her hands. "All this is MY fault!" True enough, if Anne hadn't presented Russel as Irulan's new suitor, Legolas would have never acted as he did. And if he had not acted like that, they would be having dinner at a nice restaurant while the elves told them of ancient tales.
"But how?"
"Doesn't matter how. It is, believe me."
Russel believed her, of course. Since Anne had always been the perfect meddler. "At least now you know that you shouldn't meddle," he growled, with a tint of satisfaction.
"No," sighed Anne, looking up at him. "I know that I should meddle better."