The sun shone brightly through the window and the early morning breeze gently wafted through the room. The birds could be heard chirping outside in the warm sunlight. The soft, satiny sheets lay over her body, caressing the supple skin. Her eyes fluttered open to find herself in an elaborate room.
Rich wooden floors were her ground and matching furniture adorned the room. A tall armoire stood in the corner and a small dresser was next to it. A little nightstand stood next to the bed with a few lit candles. A small metal basin filled with water sat on the stand. The headboard of the bed was intricately carved with flower and leaf designs. An open door led off to a bath chambers with a large sunken tub and a lavatory. Another smaller door led to what she guessed to be a closet. The main door led to the hall. There was no glass in the window, just some silk curtains that blew gently in the breeze.
She sat up in the bed, rubbing her temple gingerly. Her vision blurred slightly as she became dizzy, but it soon cleared. Millions of thought streamed through her brain.
"Where the hell am I? I thought I died! How can this be happening? Am I in heaven?"
Linilya nearly fell out of the bed when a voice shocked her out of her reverie.
"You're awake, my lady! How are you feeling?"
Linilya turned to see a rather tall woman next to her bed. The lady had long wavy blond hair that fell to her waist. She wore a beautiful white dress, gorgeous in its simplicity. Her eyes were a light brown and her face registered kindness and caring. Her features were slightly pointed and she held an air of grace about her as if she were an angel. She positively glowed!
"I have died," Linilya whispered to herself. "I am in heaven. Oh no."
"No, no, my lady. I assure you that you are quite alive. And you are not in the Halls of Mandos. You are in Mirkwood."
The information did not register right away. Linilya blinked and sought to clear her mind. She pinched herself hard, attempting to wake herself up, hoping the accident had just been a nightmare. She cried out in slight pain, and the woman next to her rushed to her side.
"Please, my lady, do not harm yourself. The Prince would have my head."
"The who?" Linilya questioned. She could've sworn the lady had just said 'the Prince'.
"Prince Legolas, of course. Your husband."
"My what?!?" Linilya screeched. "You must be mistaken. I'm not married. I'm only nineteen! I don't even know where I am and I certainly don't know who Prince Legolas is!"
"I've already told you, my lady. You are in Mirkwood, your home."
"I'm from California! And where the hell is Mirkwood?"
The lady looked taken aback by her language. "There is no need to yell, my lady. And Mirkwood is the Elven refuge east of the Misty Mountains, north of Lothlorien and the kingdoms of Men. But of course, you know this."
"I do? Since when? How did I get here? I was in a car accident. They took me to the hospital. Wait, are you the doctor?" she asked, slumping back down into the bed.
"Nay, my lady. I am not. And what is a car accident?" The look on the lady's face was priceless. Her confusion mingled with her fear, and she was at a loss of what to do.
"You know, I got hit by a car. Car accident? Yeah. Okay. Um…where is the doctor?"
"The Lord Malia? Shall I find him for you, my lady?" the lady asked.
"Yes! And why do you keep calling me, 'my lady'?"
"Because, that is what you are. Not only a lady of the court, but also, the Princess of Mirkwood. Do you not remember?"
"Obviously not. Look, you must have me confused with someone else. I'm not a princess, I'm not from Mirkwood, I'm not married, and I am most certainly not a lady!"
"Aye, you are. We do not have you confused with anyone. You are the Lady Elenayave, daughter of Arcollo, wife to Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood. You were taken in an orc attack and were injured. You've been unconscious for weeks. The Prince has been worried out of his mind!"
"Who are you?" Linilya questioned, deciding to give up arguing for now.
"I am Nivereal, a nurse in the Healing Houses. I've been tending to you since you came in."
"Right. Okay. Could you get the doctor, please? My head is killing me."
"Of course, my lady. Right away!"
Nivereal quickly left the room, leaving Linilya in a daze. Elenayave? What kind of name was that? And who was Arcollo? And Legolas? Where was Mirkwood in relation to San Diego?
Linilya thought deeply about her situation. What was she going to do? She was in a very strange place with people who thought she was their princess and someone who thought she was married to them. Her head pounded with this new information and she lay back down on the bed, fluffing her pillow beneath her. She moaned quietly in confusion and slight pain.
"Elenayave?" a quiet voice floated to her ears. It was a male, she could tell. The voice was soft and smooth, almost melodic to her ears. It was not too deep, but most definitely male.
Linilya turned her head and her eyes landed upon the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. A tall, powerfully built man stood in the door way, his long blond hair resting gently on his shoulders and back. Dark eyebrows sharply contrasted with his pale hair, but brought out his face. His wild blue eyes gazed down at her hopefully. He possessed softly pointed features, his high cheekbones and strong jaw catching her attention. His ears were delicately pointed and his hair was pulled back in a plaited fashion. His face was worried, yet a small smile spread across his countenance.
When she said nothing, he whispered, "Melamin?"
Linilya gazed at him with curiosity and fascination. He pulled a chair to her bedside and sat down next to her.
"Who are you?" she inquired, desiring to know the name of the handsome man before her.
His smile faded slowly and a look of hurt crossed his features. "Do you not remember me, Elenayave?"
"Should I?" she questioned him.
"It is I, Legolas. Your husband," he replied, his voice wavering.
Linilya instantly felt a pang of regret. Why, she didn't know. She hardly knew the man. Something nagged at her being, trying to tell her something. Legolas reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of her face.
"I'm not married," she answered without thinking.
Legolas pulled back, never making contact with her. His face remained passive, but Linilya could see the tumult of emotions in his eyes. The pain was so obvious to her, that she could almost feel it herself. She realized this man truly loved her, or whoever she was supposed to be.
"Do you not remember anything?" he asked quietly. "Anything about yourself? About me? About us?"
"No," she responded. "I'm not supposed to be here. Really, I'm not. I'm from San Diego, California. My name is Linilya. I'm nineteen and I go to college. I was in a car accident and I woke up and I was here."
Legolas stared at her. "I do not know of what you speak, Elenayave. You are from Imladris. And you are far older than nineteen. You were taken by orcs."
"You cannot believe that I am this Elenayave person you're talking about! I'm not! My name is Linilya!"
"Please, calm down, melamin. You must remember something," he begged.
"I'm telling you the truth!" she screamed at him. "Don't you understand?"
"Elenayave! Please!"
"Give her time, Legolas. She has just arisen," a new voice broke in. Another man had entered the room next to Nivereal. He was tall as well, with long blond hair. His eyes were brown and his countenance was calm. He was also well built, but not quite as lithe as Legolas was.
"Why does she remember nothing?" he asked the man. "Why?"
"Patience. It will come to her. She's been through a lot."
"When will she remember, Malia?" Legolas questioned.
"I don't know, sire."
Malia. He must be the doctor. Maybe he can tell me what's wrong with me. Or how to get back home. That would be nice.
"You need to rest, Elenayave," he said. "But before I have Nivereal put you back down, would you like something to eat?"
"My name is Linilya," she hissed. "And I'm not hungry," she lied. In fact, she was starving.
"You must eat something, melamin," Legolas said, slightly calmer that before. "You need to regain your strength."
"Telling me what to do is a good way to get on my bad side," she warned, struggling to sit up.
"Stay where you are, Princess. You'll only injure yourself further," Malia cautioned, pushing gently on her shoulder.
"I'm not your friggin' princess! And don't touch me!" she screamed loudly. "For God's sake, just let me go back home!"
"You are home, Elenayave," Legolas whispered softly. "Mirkwood is your home."
"San Diego is my home. And where the hell is Mirkwood?" she asked for the second time in ten minutes.
"Mirkwood lies east of the Misty Mountains, Elenayave. In Middle Earth. Tell me you remember at least that," Legolas begged. "Please."
It struck Linilya suddenly, almost as quickly as the car. Middle Earth. Legolas. Mirkwood. She knew those names. They were from Lord of the Rings. She had landed in the middle of a fantasy book. She drew in an uneasy breath. Linilya met Legolas's gaze and stared. She was looking face to face with an Elf. Her one dream had come true.
"Legolas? Legolas Greenleaf? Prince of Mirkwood, in Middle Earth, east of the Misty Mountains and Imladris, north of Lothlorien and the realms of Men? An Elven refuge, one of the four remaining?" she questioned.
Legolas smiled warmly. "Aye, melamin. That is correct."
"You're an Elf," she whispered, dumbfounded.
"As are you, Elenayave," Legolas said, his smile fading.
"I'm an Elf? No way!"
"Yes, pelleth. You have always been an Elf," Legolas stated, now confused. Did she not even know her own heritage?
"And you're my husband?"
"Aye, love. I am."
"You can't be. I don't even know you," Linilya said, gazing at him. "I've just met you. Prove it."