A/N::)) Thank you ever so much, all who took the time to review. I appreciate it.
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Kristy woke up to the feel of smooth skin under her face, feeling like warm, sun-soaked granite. She didn't move a long while, breathing it in. It felt good against her cheek. A strong heartbeat thudded against her ear. Outside the heat of their downy blanket, she felt bitter cold air.
Legolas leaned back in the crook of the couch, breathing gently.
Tick…tock…tick…
He listened to the clock, a steady snap...snap. Since he woke up, hums and roars zoomed overhead outside the building. He watched them through the drapes; they had wings like steel birds. Sirens wailed in the distance. But they were muffled and didn't disturb him even as much as the annoying clock.
"I know you are awake," he mumbled.
Kristy cracked her eyes open. The vibration of his voice rippled against her ear. One arm draped lazily over the armrest and the other cradled her ribs.
Earthquakes.
And it slowly came back. The the homeless shelter, finding Legolas and the police, searching, shouting and…and twenty-five flights of steps. Kristy's head was groggy, but her body remembered. She groaned inside. Steps, miles and miles of blue-carpeted steps.
Kris took a deep breath and sighed, perplexed. What happened next? Legolas took it the wrong way.
"I know because you ceased to snore," he explained, knowing she wouldn't understand.
Legolas glanced down.
Kristy was curled comfortably, her back to his chest and curled in the crook of his arm. She had her knees pulled tight to her chest and faced the wall, fast asleep until a minute ago. Her head rose and fell with every breath he took, resting her fingers around his bicep.
The electricity must still be out. The heat was off. Kris shuffled down deep in the blanket and scrunched her eyes shut. Sleep was warm and uncomplicated. And smelled amazing. His skin smelled…fresh, like his clothes, like smoke and pines.
Nice.
"What time is it?" she mumbled.
"You know I don't understand you." He stared at the ceiling, unaware of her happiness. The hours of sleep meant he could breathe again. His eyes were clear and alert. He felt some of his old strength again. Kristy cried herself to sleep last night. Nothing else seemed to help. She insisted on staying in his arms too…and he didn't protest. It was freezing in the apartment anyway. And he wasn't used to the cold. It felt like he'd never experienced it before. Uncomfortable. Wrong. She warmed him.
"So…" he smiled lazily. His stomach felt hollow and weak. He knew what it was, by now. Hunger. "This 'change of heart' means you intend to feed me?"
That vow to accept no help from her seemed pretty stupid in morning light.
"Mm?"
"Food," he tried.
But her eyes were slowly coming into focus on the clock. Suddenly, she lurched upright. "Ten o'clock? I'm dead!"
Kris didn't have time to apologize for falling asleep on him. She scrambled off the couch, taking the blanket with her. She tripped and slammed to the floor, then bolted. Corby would kill her. No…he wouldn't kill her, he'd fire her. He'd fire her until he realized no one else would put up with him. Then he'd make her listen to an hour of ranting and re-hire her.
It didn't matter. She couldn't be late for work again.
Legolas jolted at the rush of cold air and he shivered. The blanket dragged half way across the floor with her. He watched her disappear from the corner of his eyes, sighing, before dragging his long legs off the coffee table. "Oh what are you shouting about now?"
"I'm late!" Kristy ran past the doorway and back, tripping and clothes flying. She bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.
Legolas just stared, before shaking his head. Just watching that display was exhausting.
He heaved a sigh and got up anyway, running his fingers through his hair. Damn. The wound in his side hurt when he stretched.
He rolled the loose cuffs down over his hands to cover his sliced, aching palm. He didn't need Kristine feeling more guilty than she already did.
"Do you intend to feed me first?" he called after. With the way that woman was scrambling, she'd probably forget all about him and leave him hungry.
No answer.
"Or do you intend to run off and leave me to forage for myself?" he called louder. After all, whining like a child wasn't the same when no one understood you.
Then…in a daze, Kristy appeared. She shuffled into the living room wearing one boot, one glove and a coat in her arms.
"I…I forgot. It's Sunday. There's no work today."
Legolas tilted his head. Well this was good. If he interpreted it correctly, Kristine had nowhere to go. "And," he drew out carefully, "this means you'll feed me."
"What? Oh, never mind. Let's have some breakfast."
Legolas smiled.
She threw her coat down and started into the kitchen, gathering up glasses, dishes and plates. Soon, there was a knock at the door.
"Can you get that, Legolas? It's probably Reiner for a last check on you before he leaves. He's going to go take care of his uncle. I hoped he would! That patch job last night was definitely not good enough."
Legolas unbolted the door at her gesture and opened it. He'd recognized the name 'Riener' with distaste. He still remembered how the doctor drugged him. But he could use a healer. His side was throbbing and he couldn't fix it himself.
But… when he swung the door open, expecting to shrivel the man with a cold glare, Legolas froze. The thing standing there was definitely not the old doctor. And a mere stare would not make her shrink.
Frizzy, red hair hovered around this…woman's face and dotted her cheeks in freckles. A rumpled dress belted around her fat waist, and she looked straight at him through pop-bottle glasses. The very air seemed to grow still, tense, vibrating with fury. Slowly, mouth open, she slid up his shoeless feet, the pants hanging low around his slender hips, and the shirt hanging open over his chest.
The game was up.
"Anderson!"
Legolas jumped. Pumpet stalked through the doorway. He spun around, watching her stomp past in bewilderment. She was a storm of heels, fat, and fury.
Who in Eru's name summoned such a beast?
"Anderson, get out here! Get out here this instant."
Kristy appeared from the kitchen, surprised. "What? Oh…I mean, Mrs. Pumpet, what-what are you doing here?"
"What is he doing here?" She pointed a meaty finger at Legolas.
She should have said something, anything really, but she didn't. She just looked between them, mouth moving like she wanted to talk and couldn't. The pitiable sight reminded Legolas of a dying fish. Little squeaks and sounds that should have been words came out. A terribly awkward minute passed and she desperately tried to think of something that made sense.
"Well? I'm waiting, Anderson."
And it suddenly struck him that the situation looked… uncomfortable for them, this early in the morning. Kristy looked more than that. She was blushing furiously and her body temperature shot through the roof. She made a good attempt at hiding it, but it was obvious to Legolas…and apparently to Pumpet.
"Um, h-he's my cousin?" Kristy shuddered out a breathless smile. "He's here for a visit."
Legolas hurriedly buttoned his shirt and tied his hair back. When Pumpet wasn't looking, he tugged his pants up too. The waist of the old doctor's pants were a little loose.
"Really?" She turned on Legolas. He snapped his hands down. "You expect me to believe this is your cousin?"
Kristy laughed like a squeak. "What do you mean? Of course. Um, why not?"
And then, Pumpet edged closer, staring up at him suspiciously. Legolas leaned away. The woman vaguely resembled a hunter stalking prey. "If he's your cousin, what's his name then?"
"Uh…Legolas."
"That's not a name."
Kristy threw her hands up. "Well of course it is. It's Yiddish. My mother came from the old country, and her sister stayed there until she had him. Legolas is here for a visit and I'm, well, putting him up for a little bit."
"Little bit, huh? Well, I hope that doesn't mean a second resident in the apartment, Anderson. Because if it is, you-"
"It's not!" Kris said hurriedly. "It's not. I swear."
"Good." Pumpet sniffed, shuffling back a little. She lifted her pointed nose and looked about. "Well, I just came down to tell you the electricity's back. That…whatever it was last night, knocked down every power plant in the area. So don't you bring up that clause in the lease, about power being available and-"
"I wasn't planning to!" Kristy broke in. "Don't worry, and thanks. Thanks very much for telling me."
"Hm." Pumpet muttered, looking between them. Legolas passed a look over her head that said 'Why in Eru's name is this thing here?'
Kristine just shook her head.
"Alright," the landlady said, "You better not be lying to me. I have better things to do then hang around here."
"Don't let us keep you."
The landlady let herself be hurried out, looking back the whole way.
"What? Why? What are you trying to get rid of me for? Mischief? 'Cause believe me Anderson, the lease says-"
"I know what the lease says!" Kristy said through the threshold, "I'm not breaking it." And she shut the door.
Silence.
"Please tell me that is not blood kin of yours," Legolas said in utter disbelief. Kristy just turned around, before dropping her head against the door.
"Meet my landlady." She grinned. "And I don't think she likes you."
Legolas raised an eyebrow, before gesturing to the kitchen. Kristy took his meaning.
She made him pancakes and a meat amulet for breakfast. It took only one plateful for all thoughts of Pumpet to fade, Kristy found as she watched Legolas.
He ate whole-heartedly after having nothing for an entire twelve hours. Kristy almost smiled. He was sleeping during most of those hours. Still, it was good to see him strong again, and enthusiastic about anything really. He regarded most everyday things around him with skepticism…and more than a little suspicion. At least he trusted her cooking.
"Juice as you ordered, sahib." Kristy set it down. She didn't bother trying to give him milk. "And more eggs."
Legolas refused to even taste the white liquid, and she had a feeling he considered it 'baby food,' judging by the distasteful sniff he gave it. Either that, or he grew up with warm milk and hated it ever since...like cheap, cafeteria peanut butter. He liked fruit juice well enough though, and water more than that.
"Um. So, I was thinking you could write down some of your language for me?" Kristy sat down opposite, pen and paper in hand. The dishes were in the sink, soaking. Legolas chewed, looking at her. "I could google it. You know, try to find out what language you're speaking."
Legolas raised an eyebrow, fork in hand.
"You know, write?" Kristy shoved the paper towards him. "Write something, anything."
Legolas took the pen, wiped his mouth deliberately with a napkin, before proceeding to write, Why do you shove things at me and expect me to understand you? Just because you repeat your words over and over, does not mean you make any more sense than before.
Kristy looked at the paper he pushed back at her. Legolas smiled in satisfaction. "What you expect to do with it, I don't know. But I tell you this: I doubt you read Sindarin, Kristine."
One look and she scrunched her nose in disappointment. "I don't think that's going to help any, Legolas. I don't even recognize the letters." Nonetheless, Kristy brought up google and thought a long minute. "Legolas…Legolas." Suddenly, she brightened up and fingers flew. "I'll look up your name and see what language its origin comes from!"
A long moment later, Legolas watched in silent expectation as her face fell.
"It doesn't come up with anything. Just a lot of references to some mythical character in a 'Lord of the Rings'." She paused, looking up. "Sound familiar? Lord of the Rings? Didn't name you after it? No…I didn't think so."
Legolas saw the confusion passing over her face, so he pushed his food aside and slid into the next chair where he could look over her shoulder. "What are you doing? Why do you want my words?"
She didn't answer, but flipped from page to page…pictures, images, text and different artists' depictions of some 'elf' named Legolas of Mirkwood. "This doesn't make sense. Maybe I'm spelling it wrong, huh?"
Legolas just stared at the passing images…one to the next: trees, people, faces and battles. And suddenly, he grabbed the chair and burst out. "The White City!"
Kristy jumped at his voice in her ear. "What?"
Legolas eagerly grabbed the phone from her fingers. "Minas Tirith." he pointed at the picture, hoping desperately she'd understand. He remembered that city! Out of the sea of jumbled memories floating back into his head, it stuck out in his mind. He'd had to study it as a child. He remembered pictures and paintings. "I know this city," he insisted.
"Okay…something's familiar. The picture? You know who painted it?"
But it was hopeless. She didn't know what he was doing. Legolas was swiping his inexperienced fingers frantically through the photos, looking for more things. And one glued his attention to the screen completely. Out of the blue… Legolas froze.
This was- ..this was too good to be true.
"What is it?" Kristy shook his arm.
Legolas stared at the words, the clumsy words in his own tongue that were spelled only a little wrong, then the text on the other side. He recognized almost all the letters. They were Westron, the language of men and the people of Laketown. It was some kind of Sindarin…to something, key. Maybe the language Kristine spoke.
Still, as he read, the phrases were ridiculous and insulting mostly. Either that or impractical. 'You are hideous. Hold this for me. Don't talk to strangers.' He had to find something he could read…see if it made sense to her. And then he found a short, simple phrase he thought he could pronounce.
"S-leep," he murmured carefully. The letters were arranged a little oddly, but he managed to whisper, "…now."
Kris blinked. "What?"
Legolas looked up, hoping he didn't mispronounce the words and offend her. "S-sleep now…and sweet dreams?"
Kristy almost giggled, but she choked on her own happy bubble. "Yes! I…I mean, yes. I understand you. I understand you!"
Legolas laughed, triumphant at last. He wasn't sure which words meant which in his own tongue, but it didn't matter.
"But that's elvish!"
Legolad didn't care. "I need more. More words, this tongue, I must learn it!"
Kristy grabbed the table, unable to believe it. He could talk to her. She covered her eyes and jiggled up and down, trying desperately to think. She wasn't mad! He could talk to her. And he could speak elvish…whatever that was. Legolas was still laughing, a sound so low and clear it made her want to sing.
But for both their ears, she didn't.
"B-but…I mean, wait. Legolas!" She dove and grabbed both of his shoulders. He just grinned at her, flashing dimples that she'd never seen before. "This is not right. It can't be! It says this is Sindarin elvish. You know it? That's the language you know? What are you, some kind of nut?"
Legolas couldn't be bothered with what she was trying to say. He just grabbed her hands off of him, squeezed them, and pushed her away.
"Not now."
Legolas ran through the words and images, repeating them over and over to himself. The words in his language made sense… He could learn this. He knew three languages, each in two different dialects. Somehow, he still knew them, even after all that happened to him.
What's one more?
And finally, Kristy began to help him. What was the use in sanity? Crazy was crazy, but whatever worked worked.
She brought out her laptop.
"Here, use this. The screen's bigger."
She copied off dozens and dozens of phrases and common words in this 'Sindarin' language. The rest of the morning, Legolas sat at the table muttering to himself… And Kristy browsed the news, looking for what happened last night. Legolas would show her a difficult word and she'd pronounce it for him, but for the most part, he could piece out the syllables remarkably well. She could hear what he was saying…and it made her feel she was a little less mad for getting into all of this.
"Oh…oh wow," she said a few hours later. It was around noon, and Legolas was skimming through a Sindarin/English dictionary. In his eagerness, he didn't even have time to wonder at the 'PC'. It was magic, plain and simple.
Now Kristy sat straight in her chair. Papers and pens scattered the table and the carpet. Legolas was cross-legged on the floor, copying words to help himself remember. Now he looked at her from overtop a stack of notebooks.
"…L-legolas?"
He looked more intensely. "What is it?"
"I," Kristy drew in a breath. "I-I don't think that was just a storm, last night."
Legolas didn't understand. So Kristy grabbed the laptop from him and did the word search for what she needed. They didn't make much sense, and Legolas grimaced when she butchered his language to pieces. So she just pointed to the word and Legolas read the important parts of what a certain article read.
"It says they've been trying to keep it under wraps, to begin with," she started. "They didn't know what it was, and when these storms started striking down up north, they sealed off the area and kept the media out. Now obviously they can't do that. But…but what this one scientist says…"
Kristy leaned forward.
"Oh, this is crazy. But legends of 'storms of the gods' and 'strangers' have been recorded all through history. It says every few hundred years, these strangers of the gods—the ancient Aztecs called them—could come from any time, any place and tell them the future, of different times and things that they've never heard of."
Then Kristy sat even stiffer in her chair, if possible. "Legolas…Legolas they're looking for you!" she blurted. "The police and-and the army, who they were looking for all this time, it's you! I-I mean…people like you. People that came through the storms!"
Then, she hurried to explain…more to herself than him. Legolas only caught the words she hurriedly searched for in the dictionary.
As it turned out, Haley's comet has a flight path of passing Earth every 76 years. Its orbit is a long oval, and one of these brings it dangerously close to the sun. Every time these storms have been recorded, they coincide with a passing of the comet.
"But," she said, concentrating. "…even though the comet passes every 76 years, the season of the storms are random. 239 B.C., according to the European space agency, was the first time the comet was recorded by Chinese astronomers mapping its passage in the Shih Chi and Wen Hsien Chronicles. It was also the first recorded storm. Their theory now is that once every who-knows-how-many-times the comet swings around the sun, a solar flare appears at the same time, and the comet passes through.
"They're not sure, but it seems the power—enough to fuel the entire world's energy consumption for a year-" Kristy paused, thinking about that. "Wow…that's a lot. Anyway, combined with the intense speed of the comet, it's enough to ripple, or even tear bits of space. Isaac Newton's Bent Space Theory, that says space is really like a woven sheet that can be bent and broken, really is true."
"The massive charge eventually dissipates into Earth's atmosphere. But until then, it can focus and concentrate in any given place. That's what the storms are, bolts of solar energy." Kristy half-laughed, a little sick. "You're lucky you weren't dropped into the Arctic ocean, Legolas."
He blinked at her.
"The FBI are said to be involved, and looking for anyone and anything that has been caught in these 'rips'. They already have some, and they say the general populace can identify them by these people being 'dangerous, disoriented, without reason and generally violent'. These storms are spreading, and they've already closed off the borders, in and out, until the 'crisis' is under control."
Kristy couldn't even begin to explain any of that to Legolas…Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't herself.
"Legolas, they can't find you." Kristy breathed, "It doesn't matter if any of this is true. They can't find you."
Somewhere in the murky place that was common sense, she had the most insistent feeling that whatever they were doing to the people they found…it wasn't good. Legolas wouldn't be a guinea pig. Not if she could help it.
"You're not dangerous, and you're not violent either." She closed the screen and stares at the wall. Legolas was mulling over what he could make out from Kristine…and it wasn't very much.
But the more she thought about it, the longer it sunk in, the more she was sure. "The FBI and their greedy scientists, plastic gloves and test machines aren't going to get at you." Kristy looked over, staring into the cool blue depths of his eyes. They stared at her, or something near her, very quiet and very solemn.
Gone was Legolas' joy at learning English, and the thought of finally communicating properly. He was in trouble, serious trouble.
"We're going to get you home Legolas," she muttered finally. "…wherever that is. Somehow, someway, I promise."
. . . . . .
That afternoon, Legolas sat as still as possible in the passenger seat. Kris was driving. He wanted to fidget inside the steel beast, feeling the cold city wind blow through his hair, but he wouldn't be parted from her laptop. It was his livelihood. It was how he could communicate with this world.
Outside, the city was relatively undamaged from the ravages of the storms. It was better here; others weren't so lucky. Pictures spattered the news of buildings crunched and shaken to the ground…children in dusty rubble and flooding streets. Fewer people walked the streets. The weight of fear hung in the air, stank and heavy. A cold, bright sun shone from white clouds.
"So, we'll get you stitched up properly…" she was saying as they pulled to a stop, the windows rolled down. Hot air purred from the heater and warmed his skin. He felt disengaged from it all, looking out at the piles of broken rubble and glass buildings. They couldn't touch him here, not yet. He felt unreasonably safe, sitting back in the heated leather seat.
"…and then we get you some clothes and stuff. You know, whatever you need. Toothbrush, more clothes, things like that. I don't know how long you're going to be staying."
Legolas didn't look. "I would appreciate it if you'd refrain from talking unless you care to show me what it is you want, Kristine."
This mornings' events made him feel unsettled. Knowing for certain that Kristine's leaders were searching for people like him…to what end? He didn't know. He wasn't willing to find out. But he didn't like it.
The red light was a long one, so Kristy sighed, flipping open the lid of her PC. Legolas steadied it for her and she did a word search for 'healer,' 'trade' and then 'clothes'.
"You intend to buy me…things," Legolas said. She thankfully didn't mangle his native tongue again. "I see."
"But we still need to find out where you come from. All we know now is you speak some weird Sindarin language, and don't know English. So…" she said as the light turned, sorting it out in her own mind. "…as soon as we get your stuff and get you stitched up, we can find out what language you grew up with. Then we'll know where you're from. Right?"
Up ahead, a squad of army trucks rumbled past in green and brown camouflage.
Marshal law had been declared. Factories were up and arms over it, as the entire third shift of any business would have to stop, but a curfew was set from five o'clock in the morning, to eleven o'clock at night. She assumed it was to help with rioting. Either that or finding the confused souls 'injured by the storms', so said the police bulletins.
It was insane, but she believed the scientists instead.
If Legolas really was from a different place or…or time, it would make better sense than he'd suddenly been hit by lightning and spoke a different language. She refused to believe he was lying, either. There was intensity in his eyes. They burned truth with every word he spoke.
"Try not to say anything, in the hospital if you can." Kris parked as close as possible to the entrance. The lot was full to bursting, and so were the sides for blocks down the street. No one paid attention to the 'no parking' signs.
"What?" he slammed the door shut and stepped onto the sidewalk.
Kristy sighed, hitting her head in frustration. "I'm sorry. Just…" she thought about it, before shutting her mouth tight, pointing at it, and then motioning to Legolas. "You stay quiet. Okay?"
Legolas frowned. "Very well."
She shrugged. "I'm sorry. I just don't want any awkward questions coming up. I can't answer them! They probably have the whole building watched like a hawk."
They started down the sidewalk. Cold wind curled his breath and frosted his hair.
"Besides." She threw a rueful glance. "You already stick out, you know…flaxen hair and all? You look like a supermodel."
Legolas wasn't sure what she said, but he glared anyway. Something in her teasing smile made him suspicious.
The hospital was a mass of glass and steel. Ambulances were a steady stream in and out of the parking lot. People were everywhere, some bandaged and coming out, others limping inside.
Past the doors though…Kristy almost gasped in surprise. The emergency waiting room was filled to bursting. There weren't any empty seats. People were everywhere…pushing, peering, straining at the desk. Nurses were hurrying everywhere, shouting out names over the din. Two uniformed police were at both halls leading into the rest of the hospital, barring the way. Children were curled up on the floor, heads in their mothers' laps and sleeping. Bumps and scratches were being treated in the halls where they could, by exhausted doctors and harried nurses.
Legolas took one look…and he turned around.
"No." He shoved the glass door open and was already half-way out before she could protest.
"Legolas, wait!" Kristy grabbed his coat, but it dragged her out the door with him. It slammed shut behind them, and she shivered at the cold blast of air. Damn, he was strong! "Wait. Wait! What are you doing? You need stitches!"
"Kristine, don't even think of it." Legolas spun around to face her, narrowing his eyes. "I need nothing from them. I will stitch it myself, if need be. Don't think it would be the first time."
"Please, Legolas…" she pleaded. "Help me out here. We have to stay. Just cooperate. Please?"
Legolas stared at her, torn. If he were honest with himself, he knew it was the sight of the guards near the exits that upset him. He remembered them. They would hunt him if they only knew. They could tell right away what he was, if they had eyes to see. He was different. He didn't belong here, and everyone knew it…even Kristine.
On the streets, he remembered their shouts, demanding things he didn't have. They had road-blocks and steel that exploded, wailing sirens. In there with two of them was the last place he wanted to be.
"Please, Legolas?" she whispered softly, wanting to reach up and touch him. But she didn't dare. And suddenly the memory of him fighting off those four men and their knives was very real. He looked so angry…so upset. Kristy wouldn't admit it, but that look in his eyes scared her. He was afraid and dangerous.
"You know I won't tell them anything."
Legolas just stared at her, snared in indecision.
"Let's just get in, get out, and have it over with. Please?"
And finally, Legolas gave in. He scrunched his brows together and rubbed his forehead, drawing a breath of cold air through his teeth. And he relented. "Alright."
When they went back in, it didn't seem quite so loud or as hectic as before. They pushed and wove their way through to the desk, Legolas' arms clearing the way for the smaller woman. The nurse at the desk was harried and tired, scribbling away and trying to ignore the protesting shouts. The line was too slow.
"My friend needs stitches...o-or something. He was knifed last night, and he needs a doctor." Kristy said to the woman, leaning over the counter. "Is there someone I can go to?"
"Fill out the form and it's a hundred dollars cash payment." She said, "The hospital will send you a bill later. If you don't have the money, take this form and-"
"I have it," Kristy interrupted. "It's fine."
It was too late. The nurse had no more time. She was up and helping an ambulance team roll a cart through the emergency doors. It looked like a roof had fallen in on the poor man they brought in. He was just one of many. Kris took the paper they pushed at her.
"Well, where should I have them send it?" she whispered fiercely quiet. "I don't want them having your name…or mine, for that matter. What if someone recognizes you?" Kristy shook her head, before putting down the address of a P.O. box. It belonged to a friend, but she was sure she'd let her use it. "Alright, I'm Leah. Remember not to call me Kristine, anymore. You're…"
Legolas glanced from her to the name she wrote down, and he guessed. "Legolas?"
"No, a different name." Kristy shuffled to the edge of the room and stood against the wall. It still wasn't very private, but it was the quietest place in the room. She shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the open eyes and ears. "How 'bout Bob?" she whispered.
Legolas wrinkled his nose.
"Um…Pete? Rudolph?"
"Are these names you speak of or food?" Legolas shot back. The people made him nervous, but they were too busy to listen.
"Okay, okay." She took his disapproving frown as a 'no'. "How about…how about Luke?"
"Luke..." Legolas chewed on the word. Oh, what did it matter? His side was beginning to ache badly where she'd bandaged it, and despite his earlier protests, he didn't want to sew it himself. So he nodded in agreement.
At least it was a name he had heard before. A merchant in Laketown went by the name of Luke. It was amazing what random things were coming back to him. More and more, every day they flooded in.
It was refreshing, like a gust of warmth in the snow.
"Luke," he repeated.
Kristy wrote it down, paper flat on the wall. "If I wanted to be a Star Wars princess, I'd say Luke Skywalker. But you can be…I don't know, Luke Smith. Unoriginal, but fair."
"Luke Smith." Legolas thought about it, folding his arms and staring through the moving people, before half-smirking. "Unappealing, Kristine."
She just smiled a little, and the rest of the form was easier.
Then Legolas was suddenly grinning to himself in the queerest way. It made her want to stare at it. He was so serious, frightening almost. But sometimes, like now, he just looked so…boyish. It was like he took unreasonable delight in lying. Maybe because he knew there were such powerful people after souls like him…and the worst he'd done is lie about his name.
Three hours later, Legolas was cross-legged on the floor, back against the wall and studying English. Legs passed back and forth in a blur, filling his peripheral vision in a constant, chaotic hum. The room never seemed to empty, only shift and change… But he could block it out now.
For an hour or so, Kristine helped him study the words. Then she was curled up in the corner with her legs against her chest, fast asleep.
It didn't matter. Legolas could read the strange letters now. It was more difficult than Westron, yes, but the letters were almost the same. He could pronounce them, even if he didn't know what they meant.
"Luke Smith!" A nurse called, trying to see over the heads bobbing back and forth. "Luke Smith, next!"
Legolas snapped his head up on the second shout, before reaching over and touching Kristine. Her head was on her knees.
"Kristine…wake up." She barely even stirred, so he took her arm and shook her. "It is time!"
Kristy jolted up with a suffocated yelp.
"In here." The nurse gestured, leading them down the hall and into a semi-secluded hospital room. Kristy stumbled in, scrubbed her eyes in the light. It made her blink like an owl. A glass window looked out over the hospital grounds. The walls were creamy white, sterile.
"Alright Luke…Smith, where does it hurt?" The nurse forced a smile. But there was only concern in her eyes. Like everybody else, she didn't look like she slept all night.
"Um…he was cut with jack-knives last night." Kristy supplied. "Luke doesn't speak English."
The nurse glanced over. "Oh? All right. Let me see then."
She took care of his hands first. Legolas' left palm, where he'd grabbed the blade needed six stitches. She seemed more worried with the bloody gash raked across his ribs.
"I'll bet this hurt," she said with practiced detachment. It was long and ugly. The nurse touched it gently, and Legolas grit his teeth, refusing to flinch.
So Legolas stripped to the waist and let the nurse do her work. His side hurt too much to worry about feeling prudish. Kristy just flushed a darker color and turned around, staring out the windows.
"This'll be a few minutes…"
Legolas shivered in the cool air, feeling the needle acutely every time it slipped through his skin. She'd injected him with something…pain killer, probably, but it only dulled the sting.
It didn't matter. He'd endured worse.
"I'm just going to run a test or two on this blood."
Legolas sat at the end of the bed. The plastic, Kristine called it, was hard and uncomfortable. It made him feel on display. The room looked more for recovery than treatment though. The nurse brought in her equipment from somewhere else.
"There could have been rust or any number of contaminants on that knife," she said. "I'll just be a minute."
"Kay." Kris nodded quickly.
Once the nurse slipped out and the door wheezed shut, the voices from outside were muffled again. Kristy glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder.
"Does it…feel alright?"
Legolas looked up. And he nodded once. No use worrying her more.
Kris stared at the floor. "Sorry about dragging you in here." She studied the tops of her boots. "…but I don't want you to die of blood poisoning or something." Kristy smiled a little sickly. "I…I don't think I could take that."
Legolas didn't answer.
"Um, I already told you I was sorry…right?" she said after a few minutes. Kristy peered at him cautiously, as if not looking directly at him made him feel more decent.
Legolas just sighed.
"I am you know."
Legolas may only know a few English words, but by now, he had to have that one. She'd said it so many times, in her own head and aloud, it was sickening. She just kept seeing the blood soaked rags and…four men in that alley, police, fists and more blood. He was so alone and yet it was like he didn't know it, like he would take care of himself no matter what. Like he had a reason to live and he would fight for it.
"F-for doing that to you…" she whispered. "I didn't mean it. I-I didn't think that would happen."
"Come here, Kristine." Legolas beckoned with his chin. She just hovered uncomfortably, still lingering around the floor. "Come here," he insisted, but she only looked up half way, eyeing his nakedness.
Then, Legolas smiled.
The girl was probably remembering his reaction to waking up shirtless in her bed, and didn't want a repeat. Legolas sighed, feeling a tinge of regret for being so suspicious that morning, but it was hardly his fault. He'd remembered nothing at all, then, and he knew even less about this woman than he did now.
"I…I guess it looks worse than it feels?" Kristy hedged over. She gave into the sick need to stare at the black-stitched gash.
"If you understood me, I would not say it, Kristine. But the truth is that the pain is…acute."
Kristy just fidgeted with her hands. Legolas tilted an eyebrow. Whatever it was that made her so queasy looking, it must be guilt.
"You know," he finally said quietly, "it is not…entirely your fault that this happened, Kristine." Legolas tilted his head. She risked a look up, swallowing, and she found his eyes laughing.
Laughing? What did he have to laugh about? He was flayed open like a gutted fish, stitched back together with a needle and thread, and he was laughing! Well, more like a quiet mirth glittering in his eyes. But it was still out of place. He should be mad, or upset. Something.
"What?"
Legolas grinned tightly. "Your face might be worth some of this Kristine, if you saw yourself."
"What are you talking about?" she insisted more adamantly. "And stop smiling! It-it's unnatural. I know it hurts, and I know it's my fault. Alright? You don't have to pretend."
She just stood there, hands limp at her sides and half-covered in the sleeves of her shirt. Legolas sighed, before touching the tips of her fingers. She drew back and looked away before he could.
"I said that I forgive you, Kristine. Is that not enough?"
She just stared at the floor.
"Give me that…thing," he said suddenly, ignoring the twinge in his side. He refused to let this go on any longer. Legolas saw the outline of her phone in her pocket, and he beckoned insistently. "Give it to me."
Kristy looked between him and her pocket, feeling a little disoriented, before turning it on and passing it to him. The Sindarin/English dictionary was still up. Legolas had some trouble navigating it, but all morning using it helped.
Legolas already knew 'I', and he knew 'you'. They were some of the first words he looked for. So…when he found the last one he needed, mulled it around in his head a moment, he set the phone down and looked up at her.
The floor must be very interesting.
"Kristine…" he said very clearly, being sure the words sounded right in his own head. Then, he said quietly in English. "I forgive you."
She snapped her head up. "What?"
"I forgive you," he said simply, as if it was obvious.
She looked almost wildly over his face, as if she couldn't believe the words came out of his mouth.
"Y-you mean…" she blinked, shifting to face him. "Really? You mean… Do you even know what forgive means?"
The jumble of words confused Legolas a moment, but he just nodded. "I forgive you." What else could he do? And suddenly, she gasped a breath and looked ready to cry. She didn't though…to Legolas' relief.
Or not.
She smiled and hugged him instead. Instantly, Legolas hissed in pain at the jolt when she hit him, throwing her arms around his neck. It shot up his spine and he almost doubled over.
"Thank you- I…I mean sorry!" she jumped back almost as fast, cringing at Legolas' reaction. He clutched his side, before forcing the pain down, nodding. It hadn't ripped the stitches, only tugged them a little.
"I'm sorry!"
"It…it is all right." He lifted a hand, palm out. He wasn't sure if it was consoling or keeping her back. Kristy stared angrily at her hands like offending items. "Tis alright, Kristine."
She just nodded slightly, biting her lip so hard he could see the flinch. Seeing the dried blood, the horrid black stitches under his arm…it was sorrow all over again.
"Never mind, truly," he insisted, hoping he didn't ruin the progress he made. She looked down, looking at her hands with nothing short of fury. But it was naught but kitten fury.
Legolas forced himself to smile easier, and he beckoned. "Come back. It is alright."
She hesitated a long minute, looking at his expression, before reluctantly shuffling closer. He wanted to cringe…but he didn't. Legolas did not cringe to anyone, much less a tiny human female who only wanted to hug him. She hurt him and she wanted to make it right.
More carefully than a sparrow nestling her feathers against a single, tear-drop egg, she slipped onto the plastic next to him him, drawing her legs up beside. She reached up and sorrowfully touched his neck. Her fingerless gloves were soft and he felt her heart race through her hands. Legolas stared at something on the wall, unable to feel comfortable shifting closer…yet he didn't want to push her away, either. That would hurt her feelings.
So he sat still. He didn't move a single, tense muscle and above all, he did not look at her.
But Legolas was worried for nothing.
Kristy cupped his neck in her hands and hugged the side of his face with hers…much more carefully than she had to. He almost smiled. Her breathing was fast and so shallow that it wasn't enough. She was painfully nervous and she was about to drop away again, flushed and graceless.
"You are one part sparrow. Do you know that, Kristine?" He smiled slightly and dropped his head. It let her hold his face in her velvety gloves. Her fingers grazed his cheek.
Without even moving, he could have kissed her if he wanted to…but he didn't. He wanted to let her feel him. He wanted to feel her. He shut his eyes and felt her shallow breaths even out, slow.
And then, he knew why he felt so very lonely, why he felt like he was looking at the world through a wall of glass. He could not feel.
Kristy's spirit would be warm right now. It would be her fea. So close, she could bask in his essence. He'd let her brush his spirit, and he would not need to let her hug him like this. The feeling was not unpleasant, of course... Kristine was warm and her fingers made his heart beat harder in his chest. Her skin smelled faintly of lilac that tingled on the back of his tongue. He slid his face down hers and inhaled deeply, breathing it in. Gods…she smelled good.
But it was worthless and inadequate. It wasn't what he wanted. There was all of this…missing. It was her spirit that he should be feeling, and whatever happened to him, becoming human maybe, it was no longer possible. It left him feeling empty and even a little angry.
And then, a timid whisper brushed all of that away.
"Legolas...?"
He dragged himself out of the lowly, self-deprecating thoughts and focused on her as she looked at him. Kristine was oblivious to his turmoil. She thought his pain was a scratch. She thought it was not remembering, when in reality it was remembering that killed him. He was starting to remember just how much he'd lost, how much he wanted all of it back.
He remembered what it was like to have himself, all that was his, and now have none of it. He was taken from his world and thrown into this one, empty and a shallow, miserable husk of what he was. A part of him knew it wasn't completely true, but so what?
It's what he felt like.
And then, Kristine pulled back and whispered something that he didn't understand. She was murmuring things—he had no idea what—and gently touching the stitches on the meat of his palm. And he cursed, dragging himself out of the miserable thoughts.
He may have lost everything, but at least he gained something. Something small. She was right in front of him, and playing innocently with his fingertips. He stared at her as she talked, wondered how he was lucky enough to have such a strange little thing amongst all this…nothingness.
"- Kristine." Legolas interrupted, and she looked up with a start, glancing over his face.
"Um…what?"
Legolas studied her carefully, the fringe of hair pushed behind her ears. He looked into her blue-green eyes, eyes that were easy to laugh and even easier to frown. She didn't have much for a chin.. but a strong, smooth jaw. Her gentle mouth twitched.
And he couldn't help but smile as he murmured. "Thank you."
"F-for…for what?"
It was good Legolas couldn't explain even if he wanted to. He didn't know the words in English or his own tongue. Her face was so close he could feel the brush of her breathing. He could feel the tingle of her skin.
Legolas merely shrugged, smiling slightly, and it was just a brief moment of happiness.
The moment was cut short.
The nurse came back in, finished up with his side. Then, paused. "Uh…Mr. Smith, there seems to be no complications. However the full test results will be back in a few days, with all these patients maybe a few weeks. They will be sent to your address, along with the bill, and the doctor's instructions if anything turns up."
Kristy nodded. "Kay. Thank you."
The waiting room was as full as ever, confused, harried. Legolas took her hand, laced and locked their fingers together. He pulled her through the crowd and out the exit. If he saw the police's eyes watching him as he went, he didn't show it.
The cold air hit her brutally outside, but all Kristy felt was the tingling warmth of his calloused palm. Kristy couldn't help remembering the desperate fingers clinging to hers in the rain. She remembered his fear and confusion that first day. It was impossible to believe it was barely two weeks ago. Legolas looked up at the sky, pulling her along and he leant her new-found strength.
He wasn't that person anymore.
Legolas was strong. He was a fighter. He was a leader. He'd survive this.
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Please enjoy your day readers. :)