Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's creation, more's the pity. Having had to repeat it this many times is beginning to make me bitter.
A/N: Another installment, my lovelies! And quite possibly in record time, too. Thanks for your continued support and reviews. I love all your comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter (even if it is a bit of a downer).
Chapter 43-I Can't Be With You
I cracked my eyes open tentatively. I was greeted with a starry sky. For about ten seconds, that is, until my neighbor's head popped into view. "Kate? Kate? Are you awake? You're awake. Thank god! I thought you were dead! Jesus, what the hell are you doing lying on the ground?" Chip asked.
"How should I know? I was just standing here, looking at the stars, then bam! Darkness. Next thing I know I'm seeing your ugly mug." I said snappishly. I was completely mortified at being found passed out on the ground, but mostly I was baffled as to how I had ended up like this and that meant I was irritated. Something was off, but I had no idea what it was. All I had was that niggling sensation in the back of my mind telling me something was missing.What was going on?
"Come on," Chip said and hauled me to my feet. "How do you feel? Are you nauseous? Dizzy? What if you have a concussion? Or cranial bleeding? Do you need to go to Patient First?" He still had me by the shoulders and was peering at me anxiously.
"No, no, that's alright. I'm fine. Probably just didn't eat enough today...or something," I added at his disbelieving stare. "I'll just be on my way." I could feel my face heating up. Chip had really grown up since he had been away at school, and my juvenile crush had come back to life with a vengeance in the few short moments since he had rescued me. Or at least helped me up. He had filled out, and had that super cute surfer boy look going for him: tan, blonde hair, blue eyes. I was hit with something that felt strangely like longing. The combo seemed familiar and particularly pleasing. That set off another warning bell in my mind. When had I started favoring blond hair and blue eyes? I had always figured myself more of the "tall, dark and handsome" type. I scoffed internally. This was silly. Chip was attractive. Period.
"Absolutely not," he said. "I'm headed out myself, so I'll take you wherever you want to go. Though I still think we should go to the ER." He laid off glaring at me at my wide-eyed expression of terror at the mention of the hospital. My mom would freak. He sighed. "Let's go."
"Thanks, Chip," I said lowly, scrabbling to pick up my bags before following him to his car next door. God, if he didn't think I was crazy before he definitely would now. He used to tease me about being a space cadet when he would come home from soccer practice or his latest girlfriend's house and find me staring at the stars.
"Have you finally decided to be a poet and wander the world romantically writing odes to the stars, nature and stuff? Is this the first in a long line of eclectic, artistic stunts you're going to pull for attention?" he teased once we were in the car.
"Don't tell," I quipped, face flaming. Obviously he thought I was still the dork next door.
Chip laughed. Silence reigned for a moment before he broke it. "What are you thinking about when you're looking up at the sky?"
I shrugged. "It kind of depends. Mostly, I just feel like I am waiting for something. Like there's more out there for me, a whole different life...if I could just find it." I turned to look out the window, embarrassed at opening up that way. That sounded so flaky. No wonder he thought I was a dork. I had had such a big crush on Chip in junior high. It had died out not that long after I went to high school. I couldn't remember why.
His phone rang. Nickelback's "Figured You Out" filled the car, though it was cropped to just the line about liking her pant's around her feet. I turned to the window and rolled my eyes. Now I remembered. "Hey, babe. Yeah, I'm on my way. Just got to drop my neighbor at some high school party then I'll be over. What? You're not feeling well? An ache in your chest? Maybe I should take a look. After all, I am a doctor." Chip was actually just a pre-med student. High pitched giggles reached my ears and I tried to keep my face neutral. Overall, Chip was a nice guy. He just tended to be a bit vapid at times. The rest of the ride was spent listening to him flirt with his latest flavor of the week.
Chip pulled into the driveway of my friend's house. Moving his mouth away from the receiver, he said quietly, "You still have my number?" he asked. At my nod, he continued, "Good. Call me if you need a ride or feel bad."
"Sure. Thanks, Chip," I replied as I awkwardly struggled out of the car.
"No worries." Yeah right, I thought as I headed up the drive way towards the backyard where the party was in full swing. No worries, I scoffed. It should be the truth. I really shouldn't have any. So why was I worried? Shaking myself, I stepped through the gate determined to just have fun for a few hours.
It was late when my ride home dropped me off back at my house. Smiling, I quietly entered the house humming one of the latest top 40 hits. I had enjoyed hanging out with my friends and our usual antics kept me from dwelling on that insistent feeling that there was something I was missing. Of course, now that I was the only person awake in my house, the feeling resurfaced. I went through my nighttime ritual with a frown. Could I have forgotten to turn in a form for the university? I rejected that thought immediately. I had double- and triple-checked everything. Something with my car? That thought was tossed out just as quickly. Eventually I gave up. Obsessing over it was not going to help. Climbing into bed, I resolved once again to just let it go. Turns out, it was to be a case of easier said than done. Try as I might, I could not get my mind to stop circling around the issue. I tossed and turned for a couple hours before finally falling asleep in the early morning.
Blue eyes staring down at me while strong arms whirled me around a dance floor. My skirts swished and I laughed. He pulled me closer and I could see he was leading me towards open doors. We shared secret, delighted smiles. My eyes opened. I blinked a few times. It was light outside. I closed my eyes and willed myself back to sleep. Sighing, I gave up and sat up a few moments later. The dream had felt so real. A wry smile lit my face. If only, I thought. Whoever he was, my dream man was smokin'. "Only in dreams," I murmured with a shake of my head. I got out of bed reluctantly and headed for the shower.
I spent the rest of the day and the first half of the next week packing up my stuff and preparing to move across the country. I hung out with my mom and sister quite a bit. My mom had taken a few days off work to help me pack, affording us some quality time together. Mostly, she cried a lot and I tried not to. It was awkward, moving out, because you were on this emotional roller coaster: excitement about the next phase of your life, guilt because your family was going to miss you and you were excited about leaving, anxiety because you had no idea what to expect. All in all it was a hell of a half of a week; the good, the bad, even the ugly. Amidst my packing it had dawned on me that this transition could be the source of all my anxiety. Of course! What if it was just that simple? It had to be, so I resolved to ignore such natural feelings. Midway through the week it was time to head to my dad's house and do relatively the same thing. Weed out the stuff I wanted to keep, get rid of the rest and pack. I said a tearful goodbye to my mom and sister before getting in my car and beginning the boring road trip to my dad's. He and my stepmom were in town for my graduation and stuck around so we could caravan to their house in southwest Virginia. I had hoped that having to focus on driving would keep my mind occupied. It didn't. My resolve was crumbling and the anxiety was creeping into my thoughts again. An hour in I cranked up my music to ear-splitting volume to try and drown myself out. "Pathetic," I muttered. Eventually, we pulled over at a gas station/fast food joint for lunch. Laughing and joking with my dad and stepmother kept me blessedly distracted for a half hour.
As we cleared the table, Dad said to me, "How are you doing? Do you feel tired at all?"
About to reassure him, I suddenly changed my mind. "You know, I do feel a little tired. I haven't been sleeping that well. Would you mind riding with me for a bit? Having someone to talk to would help." I chose not to mention the fact that I was losing sleep because of strange dreams featuring the hottest man I had ever seen. That I could chock up to hormones. It was the ones where I was fighting monsters and wielding a sword like Xena on speed that had me stumped. Unless of course I was developing some weird fetish for leather and pain. But such an admission would never cross my lips, not even on pain of death, and definitely not to my parents.
"Of course, kid," he said and clapped a hand to my shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze. Another couple of hours taken care of, I thought, releasing my breath in relief. By the time we made it to the house, I was completely worn out. We ate a quick dinner of pizza before I headed off to unpack a bit before hitting the sack. Once in my room, I went to the window and looked outside. "What is wrong with me?" I whispered, staring at the sky as if I expected the answer to suddenly be written in the stars. Honestly, I had expected the feeling to have gone away by now, especially since I thought I had figured it out. But to my dismay it had only intensified. "Am I going crazy? Is that it?" I asked of the universe at large. "Or maybe I have a brain tumor. Stellar." Pushing away from the window, with a frustrated growl I set to unpacking with a vengeance. Hopefully it's a tumor, I thought, and isn't that completely messed up. Thoroughly exhausted by the time I was done, I slipped into bed hoping for a deep, dreamless sleep.
I awoke with a gasp in a cold sweat, heart beating hard, breathing erratic. Sucking in huge lungfuls of air, I threw back my covers to inspect my thigh. It was fine. Flopping back onto the covers, I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my hands against them. So far, that was the most disturbing dream to date. Hell, it was the most disturbing dream I'd ever had in my life. I had been battling these really ugly creatures, which looked suspiciously like orcs. I was actually a pretty decent warrior, which made sense since it was my dream world. So I wasn't too surprised when I stepped in to rescue a little boy. Although why he was in battle was beyond me. Playing the heroine fit, but getting stabbed did not. It was agony. My leg was on fire and every move was pure torture. I had just made it back to some sort of safe haven when the man of my dreams caught sight of me. I could see the fear in his eyes as he took in my injury and I wanted to comfort him, but the pain was too much. All I managed was a grimace. I sat up again. Pain. The single word reverberated through my mind. You don't feel pain in dreams, but I felt this. I could feel an echo in my thigh. I threw the covers off to check again, before snorting in disgust. This was insane. It was just a vivid dream and I was having some sort of sympathy pain reaction thing. I laid back down. Closing my eyes, I squirmed about to get comfortable. I opened my eyes. It was no use. I wasn't convinced. The dream was too real. And if I were to be honest, all my dreams so far were beyond anything I had ever experienced before. They were so detailed and so emotional. And they didn't fade. I could remember every single one of them clearly. Almost...almost as if they were memories. That idea disturbed me and I sat up again. There was no way I was getting back to sleep. But my mind backed off a little because I was really becoming scared. The possibility that these could be some sort of past life experience made me squirm, even though I hadn't even said it out loud.
My gaze landed on my bookcase. Perfect. I would read for a bit, distract myself, then hopefully fall back asleep. Getting up, I walked quietly over to run a hand over the many different spines. Nothing tickled my fancy until I reached Lord of the Rings. I smiled softly. It was my favorite after all. Cradling the beloved book in my hands, I headed back to bed. Letting it fall open at random I began reading...about the Battle of Helm's Deep. Ignoring the insidious voice that claimed that this was way too coincidental for comfort, I let logic take over and everything clicked into place in my mind. This was my inspiration! My overactive imagination had gone into overtime, probably from stress, and created this whole other life for me at night, a harmless bit of escapism. That explained the orc-like creatures and costumes. It doesn't explain how they feel so real, my mind pointed out, especially since this is the first time you've re-read the story in months. "Stop it!" I hissed. "It makes sense. Let it be," I begged. "Oh god," I moaned. "Now I'm talking to myself. I've gone off the deep end. It's official." Snapping the book shut I decided that desperate times called for desperate measures. I opened my bedside drawer and pulled out a sleep aid. "Try and get through this," I challenged darkly, swallowing the pill. Nothing did.
I woke the next morning edgy which transitioned into grouchy and I remained that way for several days. The sleeping pills had managed to keep the dreams at bay, however this seemed to cause my inexplicable worry to increase tenfold. My parents wisely gave me a wide berth. At least they did until dinner about a week later. "What did that vegetable ever do to you?" my dad asked dryly. Startled, I looked up at their worried expressions before looking sheepishly back to the broccoli I had been maiming mercilessly. "You want to tell us what's going on with you?" he pushed gently. At their looks of concern I burst into tears. "I d-don't k-know," I stammered in-between sobs. "I just cannot shake this feeling that something's desperately wrong. Nothing I do makes it go away. And I can't sleep anymore without a pill because I have such intense dreams." I gushed before breaking down completely. I felt my dad embrace me and my stepmother petting my hair comfortably, both of them murmuring soothing nothings. When my sobs quieted into hiccups, my parents sent me upstairs to bed. They gave me the standard parent pep talk, that it was probably just stress and nerves and that having it all out in the open would make it better. I wanted to believe them, I really did. So I went upstairs, put on my pjs, scrubbed my face and even gave myself a little smile and wink in the mirror. Tomorrow would be better, I promised.
Thus my frustration at 4 am in the morning when I awoke from another dream was acute. And this time, so was my heartache. It had been such an achingly tender dream. The man of my dreams was there again. I loved him. And he loved me, I could feel it. We were in a forest. The trees were absolutely massive. The light was a soft blue-grey, like twilight. And the air was cool. Our joined hands were warm. We walked for awhile, laughing and talking. We were in love. I loved him so much that it almost hurt. And I knew he felt the same. I could see it in his eyes. The way he had held me...then kissed me. I could feel myself flushing. I whacked my hand against my bed sheets. I wanted him like I had never wanted someone before. And it wasn't real. It couldn't be. "It's not," I whispered strained before bursting into fresh sobs.
The next morning I put on a brave face. Mostly because I did not want to see a shrink, not because I was actually happy. Most of this week's dreams were of the achingly tender kind. It was bittersweet, I mused as I sat by the small waterfall we had in our backyard. I dreaded and loved these dreams. I wanted the kind of love I felt at night, in this pseudo-Middle Earth. And now having felt it, I was terrified I would never find it. These places did not exist. My man, who I was really beginning to think of as an elf (and probably Legolas if I was being really bold with my speculation), was not real. Disappointment and desire assaulted me. Suddenly I was swept up in a vision. We were climbing up a waterfall for some sort of meeting. He extended a hand to me. His surprised gaze on mine the moment our hands met. I heard a car door slam somewhere and it snapped me out of my daydream. Except it wasn't a daydream. I did not have to think or invent. The vision surfaced just like a memory. I started shaking. I was remembering, I had to be. Somehow I had lived these events. All of the anxiety and all of my dreams were trying to make me remember. I was missing the love of my life and my sense of purpose I got from being part of the Quest. I had to get back, to go home. Home. Looking through the window, I saw my parents setting the table for dinner. My stomach twisted. How could I leave them? Dinner was a quiet affair. Everyone feeling a little awkward. Afterwards, I suggested we watch a movie. I wanted to test a theory.
"What are we watching?" Dad asked.
"I was thinking Lord of the Rings," I suggested, hoping to keep the desperation out of my voice.
"Again?" he said.
"Please?" I begged.
"I don't mind as long as we don't watch the first one," my stepmother said. "I have seen it way too many times. It seems like it is on TNT every other day."
"How about The Two Towers? It's my favorite anyway," I said.
"Sounds good. Put it in."
I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or terrified when my theory was correct. I was bombarded with flashbacks as the movie progressed. As expected, only the parts that featured Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. When we reached the Battle of Helm's Deep, my body tensed. I did not want to relive the pain. Luckily my dad distracted me with a snort.
"This never happened," he stated when Haldir and his elves showed up.
"Actually it did," I countered without thinking.
"No it did not," he said, giving me an odd look. "Didn't you read the books?"
I froze. "Of course. You're right. I don't know what I was thinking," I covered quickly as visions of a girl with auburn hair firing an arrow into the orc set to kill Haldir played through my mind in slow motion. I watched the rest of the movie barely breathing, as memory after memory surfaced. When it ended and my parents turned the lights back on, I blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears gathering in my eyes.
"You okay?" My dad asked.
"Yeah, absolutely," I said quickly. "The light was just brighter than expected." My parents didn't look particularly convinced but they let it go. I hugged and kissed them goodnight, feeling an odd sort of urgency for a goodbye. I lingered a bit in their hugs, and if they noticed they did not say anything. I went upstairs and got ready for bed slowly, heart heavy and mind full. Lying down, I stared up at the dark ceiling. What was I going to do? I could not live my life torn, desperate to stay but just as desperate to leave. Living a half life wasn't living at all. But there was no going back. I had remembered and I would never be able to forget my time in Middle-Earth. If I stayed I would have to live with the pain of losing Legolas forever. Could I handle the doubt that would inevitably follow? Would I be able to cope knowing I would probably never know such love again? On the flipside, would I be able to cope knowing I had willingly turned my back on family? Living without them was one thing when I had no choice, but now...how could I purposefully cause them pain? Because that is all my disappearance would do. And how did I go about disappearing if I decided that's what I wanted? It was hours before I fell into a fitful sleep. This time I welcomed sleep with open arms. This time I wanted to dream.
I was in a good-sized room, poorly lit with just a few candles. There was a stillness in the air found only in the darkest part of the night. I could see myself lying immobile on a large, plush bed looking somehow faded. A shiver lanced through me. I looked dead. Turning away, my gaze fell on Legolas sitting next to the bed, grasping my limp hand. He looked haggard, like he had not been sleeping. He was thinner, too. Obviously he was not eating either. I was sad and angry all at once. He did not deserve this.
His voice startled me, though it was barely above a whisper. "I love you," Legolas said roughly, like he had not spoken in awhile. "I hope you are happy where you are. I hope you are safe. And I hope this does not last much longer. Selfish of me, I know, but I cannot bear to see you like this. I hate waiting, as you well know, though you cannot fault me for it. Patience was never one of your strongest suits." I smiled from my vantage point, and my prone form's lips twitched. Legolas must have noticed because he shifted jerkily to sit on the bed beside my body. "Can you hear me?" he asked, leaning forward, searching my expressionless face. Long, tense moments passed in which I attempted desperately to nod, open my eyes, anything. Nothing happened. Legolas emitted a bitter snort. "Of course not, I just wish it. But," he paused, drew a deep breath, took a furtive look around, then continued, "But if you can then I want you to know I miss you. That this is killing me." He swiped a hand across his face then ran it through his hair. Judging by the state of his hair it was an action he had repeated a few thousand times. "Admittedly, that is probably unfair of me to say. To have to make such a choice is burden enough, without adding my own desires to your no doubt conflicted ones. Yet say it I must. I want you with me. I need you with me. Yet if you must go..." He paused for a moment, voice breaking. His eyes were suspiciously bright, and I felt my own water. "If you must go, know that I understand, that my love for you will be unchanged. Do you recall what I told you?" He waited for a response. But none came, no matter how hard I tried. "I told you I would find you. That we would build a life together, no matter the distance or time that must be overcome. So please, be at peace, because I will find you." The thought seemed to be more than Legolas could bear. He twisted away from my body, eyes clenched tight, hands fisted. It was too much. I approached him, careful not to look at my pale, prone form. Leaning over him, I whispered, "Not if I find you first." I smiled as his head snapped up and he looked around wildly.
"Kate?" he queried tremulously, staring right through me. My heart twisted painfully.
"Be at peace, I will find you," I echoed as he turned back to stare down at my body, swallowing hard. Then I woke up. "Enough is enough," I declared softly to whomever might be listening. That wasn't a dream. It wasn't a memory. I made my choice. I had a life elsewhere and I wanted it back. Pushing away the panic and grief that threatened to overwhelm me at the thought of what I was about to do, I got out of bed. A flicker out of the corner of my eye drew my gaze to the window. Hurriedly, I rushed to it and looked outside. There was a man standing in my backyard. He was ethereal and practically translucent. My heart rate increased dramatically as he hailed me. Steeling myself, I grabbed my bathrobe and rushed downstairs, trying to go as quickly and quietly as possible. I slowed once outside. "Who are you?" I asked with only a slight quake in my voice.
"You know my name," the shade stated softly, demandingly.
"Manwë." I named him without thinking, surprising myself.
"I must admit I did not expect you to remember quite so quickly. But your love is strong," he said. He sounded oddly proud.
A second man blinked into existence and I took a startled step back. He was grimmer than Manwë and darkly beautiful, though there was no sense of malice about him. "It is time," he pronounced.
"Who's he?" I asked, jabbing a finger in the direction of the figure staring at me dispassionately. I got no answer, but both figures' expressions said I should know his name too. Truth be told I had a really good hunch, but the implications kept me from admitting it.
"You have made your choice?" Manwë asked gently, though it was more of a statement. There was almost an air of regret around him.
"Yes."
"Then so be it," Námo said. He disappeared as Manwë turned and began to walk away from me.
"Hey wait!" I called. "What now?" He did not slow. "Wait, please! Stop!" He began moving faster. I followed without a backward glance. He started running, so I did too. We were crashing through the woods behind my house. Leaves were slapping my face, branches were tearing my clothes. "Where are we going?" I called. No answer. There was a break in the trees ahead where a road cut through the woods. He didn't slow. I thought I saw headlights out of the corner of my eye. "Be careful!" I warned. If anything his pace picked up. Against all reason, so did mine. His feet touched pavement, I heard screeching tires, then the flapping of wings. I felt the road beneath my feet then impact. I was flying through the air. A second impact. Pain, lots and lots of pain. I heard unfamiliar voices, a raven's call, then oblivion.
My eyes shot open as my whole body tensed. Daylight. A stone ceiling. I gasped for air like a fish out of water, shooting into a sitting position, clutching my broken body. Except it wasn't broken. Clawing at my body, I searched for blood, broken bones, some proof of the trauma I just endured. Someone grabbed my hands, stilling them. I looked around wildly and saw many faces, all blurry. I heard voices, one voice in particular, closer. Focus. A blond head.
"Kate?"
"Legolas?" I croaked. He was sitting by me on the bed, grasping my shoulders now, grounding me. "I'm back?" He gave a quick nod, gaze guarded, body tense. "I'm back," I repeated more flatly as images presented themselves to my mind. The dented car, my contorted body, the stained roadway. I died. "I'm alive," I said aloud. Legolas gave another quick nod. "I'm alive," I repeated. What had I done? "Oh god, " I breathed, "I think I'm going to be sick." Standing quickly, I gave a startled cry as my legs went out from under me. Legolas kneeled next to me. Grasping me under the arms, he lifted me back onto the bed. "Why can't I stand?" I asked clutching his forearms, my voice high-pitched and panicked.
"You are very weak. It has been two and a half weeks since you fainted," Legolas explained gently, watching me carefully.
"And now I am back?" I asked, afraid this might be some sort of dream or even heaven. I had died.
"You are back," Legolas agreed.
Tears gathered in my eyes. "I'm back," I admitted to myself. Then I cried, body shaking something fierce, wailing and rocking because I was back. It was done. Clinging to Legolas like a lifeline, I sobbed out my shattered heart.
