A/N sorry this has taken me so long. Thank you to all my readers.
Elfwine greeted me with a devious smile as I entered the stables it wasn't until I saw the shadow looming over him that I saw the cause of his smile. "Gretchen says I need to…" he trailed off scratching the back of his neck, "So anyway I found a replacement," He winced seeing my expression.
I smiled sweetly, "I can wait."
Elfwine stammered looking behind him and forward again, "But-"
Legolas cut him off, "If you plan to travel to the Golden Wood before winter you should be leaving…last week."
I glared at him as a sigh released itself from my mouth. Legolas looked as pained to be here as I did. Elfwine probably begged him. Why does he have to be such a people-pleaser?
"Thank you for being so flexible Prince Legolas," I bowed my head in his direction.
He scoffed, but to the untrained ear it sounded more like a cough but I knew even with my gaze trained on the ground and it caused a smirk to spread across my face.
Elfwine dismissed himself and I stood still as Legolas retreated into the stable to ready the horses. I wasn't about to follow him inside and get cornered. When he exited holding the reins of only one horse though it made me wish I had followed him.
"Do you need help?" He asked politely bringing Arod over to me.
I rolled my eyes, "No."
I, however, did need help, and after jumping with all my might failed I refused to look in his direction as he let out a sigh and lifted me onto the saddle. I felt heat rising onto my face as I felt his hands firmly on my waist and my thoughts drifted to the passionate kiss we shared.
"You alright?" He asked from below, he was still slightly taller than me even on horseback.
I nodded. He held the reins and slowly walked Arod toward a paddock. I was surprised by how peaceful I felt, I wasn't scared at all. The horse moved beneath me with a graceful and powerful gait, its muscles flexing as we entered the paddock and Legolas began walking us in a circle. His steps were measured and his gaze was only on me.
"Hold the reins," he instructed. I did as bid grabbing the thin leather strap instead of Arod's mane. Legolas stayed by our side for several more rounds, occasionally asking if I was alright or well. After the fourth round, he backed up and took a seat on one of the fences. "Work him to a trot."
I did as instructed, my confidence was gaining, I felt no fear. We trotted circles around the paddock, changed directions, did every exercise he asked. "Gallop," he instructed. I gave a gentle squeeze of my thigh to signal Arod to pick up the pace and that's when the fear crept in. I didn't see the swaying grasses in the morning dew, or the sturdy fence Legolas sat on, I saw only death, I saw only Helms Deep.
Arod reacted to my panicked twitching the way anyone would assume he would, he began his own twitching, backstepping and twirling not understanding my commands.
"Lare-" [stop] Legolas shouted as we raced passed him.
My breath came in quick gasps and I really needed off this horse. So logically, I decided the best way to get out of the uncomfortable situation was to dismount while at a gallop. The wind whipped through my hair, and the world around us became a blur of color and motion. Legolas jumped off of the fence and was now in the paddock with us, his palms were held out as he continued speaking Elvish to try to calm the horse, but I wasn't going to wait. I was already flying. Time seemed to slow as I descended, my body arcing gracefully through the air.
Legolas caught me, like he always does; maybe that's why I wasn't afraid of throwing myself off of the horse. He looked down at me with torrents of anger, his blonde hair was tousled and his jaw tight. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?" He growled.
"Are you deaf? Could you not hear my instruction?" He continued, his arms held me tightly flush with his chest; it almost dulled my trembling, almost.
In his fury he began speaking Elvish, some words I caught others I didn't, I knew what he was saying though. 'Calli you are an utter fool and a hopeless cause, go die.'
I tried to squirm out of his hold which made the tick in his jaw sharpen. "What did you see?" He asked softly, he began walking out of the paddock leaving Arod alone. I shook my head not wanting to speak about it. He walked us to a small tree and sat down at the base of it holding me in his lap. "Breathe," he smoothed my hair. I squirmed again, "I'm sorry," I choked out.
He brushed tears off my cheek I didn't even realize I had shed, pulling me closer to him. "I pushed you to fast, forgive me."
I looked up at him opened my mouth to speak when his existence faded as did the tree and the breeze. I was back in Kansas.
oOo
It took two weeks to reach New Jersey, I wasted no time. I have several new sets so skills to add to resume, lock picking, hotwiring, and common thievery. I no longer had any sense of self-preservation. I needed Dargan; I needed him to tell me what to do. Tell me how to go back.
I wasn't the same woman I was before, I siphoned gasoline with nothing more than the suction my mouth had to offer. I needed Legolas. The modern world is dead to me.
Dargan lived in New York City, which did not fit his personality at all. I took him for the guy who would live out his days on acres of land on either side of his house and lobby in favor of social distancing. I was only a few hours from him now, but I decided it best to sleep in my stolen car and continue in the morning.
I fell asleep to the sound of drunks arguing in the Walmart parking lot and awoke to the sounds of a forest.
I should have been scared, but I wasn't I was back in Middle-Earth. The thick canopy above-filtered sunlight, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. The air was imbued with the earthy scent of damp soil and the sweet fragrance of pine.
It didn't feel like Fangorn, or even the Golden Wood. This forest was darker. I walked along the forest floor; my pockets were full of gum wrappers and loose change that squished uncomfortably against my thighs as I walked.
"Dár-" [Stop.] I heard from the canopy. I tilted my head to the side; this didn't seem like the Golden Wood. Shadows danced menacingly, playing tricks on my senses and distorting the shapes of the gnarled tree trunks. Several Elves catapulted down in front of me, an Elleth with auburn hair, led them.
They wore the colors of the forest, and were clearly not of the Golden Wood. I swallowed as she took a step closer to me. The sporadic creaking of branches overhead took on an otherworldly quality, resembling distant whispers or the eerie laughter of unseen entities, Elves with malicious intent.
"You have entered the Elven King's realm." I tilted my head to the side, Galadriel was never queen she was a lady. No. I'm in Mirkwood.
"You must be shown to the king," I didn't argue, Legolas didn't seem like he had a great childhood but surely once his dear old dad found out I was a war hero and his son's friend he would escort me himself to the Golden Wood.
She gestured for me to walk and follow her and I did without a comment. Elves surrounded us flanking our sides and behind us. All began speaking among themselves about me as if I couldn't understand them.
Some made simple comments about my appearance, my strange dress, and my patchy skin, others made more sinister accusations.
"I don't see a ring," One of the Ellons observed, jabbing another.
"I've heard women are more fragile than Elleth," another one said in reference. I wished my Sindarin wasn't as good.
"She could be a spy," Another said.
"She is spotted like the nightsky, see her with exertion? Those spots stay. Her face is the prettiest of flushes."
Several times I opened my mouth to tell them to please stop talking about me but thought better of it.
As we drew closer to Legolas's home or old home I should say, the auburn-haired Elleth cursed. "Thranduil set off for Imladris already,"
She straightened with a smirk, "You will be presented to the prince then."
How is she going to present me to Legolas when he lives in Minas Tirith? Did he move back? How much time has passed now?
"She can't understand you; I don't know why you're even bothering. Humans are so dense many don't even comprehend the common." I ignored the Elf that said that.
It seemed none of the other Elves knew common or didn't see me as worthy enough to offer it. This was vastly different treatment than how I was treated in the Golden Wood. I was revered. Did Legolas grow to hate me?
The Elleth in front held up her hand for us to halt just as a giant spider came into view. I let out an ear-piercing scream as I ran for my life. The giant spider, its bloated body suspended by silk-thin threads, hung momentarily in the air before landing on the forest floor with a soft, eerie thud. The Elves began firing arrows and jumping to and fro distracting the beast while others laid blows I however, was more of the approach of running for my life because that has worked for me.
The forest shadows seemed to cling to its grotesque form, casting the spider in a nightmarish silhouette. Its multifaceted eyes gleamed with an otherworldly intelligence, and the air pulsed with a palpable malevolence as the creature skittered closer.
The Elves began heckling me in their cursed tongue mocking my fear as many circled me to protect me and steer me back to the center of the fold. The heckles stopped when two more spiders joined the first. The strands of their silk trailed behind them like ethereal threads, a gossamer warning of the unseen traps that lay ahead.
"There must be a nest near," Leave it to the Elves to state the obvious.
With a sudden, predatory lunge, the third giant spider closed the distance between us, its hairy legs propelling it forward in a disturbingly fluid motion. Panic gripped me as I stumbled backward, the forest floor uneven beneath my feet. The creature's eyes glinted with hunger, and its venomous fangs glistened in the dim light, revealing a grotesque appetite for prey. As the creature prepared to strike, a surge of overwhelming fear and dread coursed through me.
I screamed, I cried, I shouted, the name of the man who always came to my rescue, then I fainted.
oOo
"Do you recognize her, my lord?"
"No. Why did you bring a human into the Elvenking's Halls?"
"My King has insisted all intruders of the realm be brought before the throne."
"She said your name several times before she fainted."
"My name? You found her in the forest? Did you speak with her?"
"I spoke no common, she did not appear to understand Sindarin, but she said your name in our dialect. Many of my guards witnessed it themselves."
"Do you think she is a spy, my lord?"
"Wake her."
oOo
A sudden sensation of cold shocked me back to consciousness, and my eyes fluttered open to the dim surroundings of a throne room. Blinking away the disorientation, I found myself lying on a stone floor, surrounded by many accusatory eyes. Stalactites hung like ancient chandeliers, and the echoes of distant water drips added a natural rhythm to the otherwise silent cave.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I took in the imposing throne at the far end of the cave. Carved from the living rock, the throne exuded an eerie authority, its rough edges blending seamlessly with the natural formations of the cave. The cavernous space seemed to amplify every sound, creating an otherworldly hush that underscored the surreal setting. What the hell is going on?
I gulped and sputtered as my front half became soaked in cold water, this was definitely different treatment than that of the Golden Wood.
The figure standing over me, who had administered the abrupt awakening with a splash of water, remained a silhouette against the ambient glow. "I hear you know my name, human," the figure spoke.
I scrambled to my feet trying to get a better look at his shadowed face only to get shoved down by several sets of hands. "Who are you working for?" He asked drawing one of his long knives.
I'm before. That's the only explanation. I'm before, and Legolas has no idea who I am.
I couldn't find my voice; my throat went dry at the sight of his blade.
"I do not require an audience." Legolas boomed dismissing the Wood-Elf guards' and leaving me alone on the ground before him. No witnesses. Would he understand if I explained it to him? Would he think I'm even crazier and kill me?
He twirled the knife in his hand; his face was dark with shadows. "How were you able to get that far from Dale?"
I stood to my feet and was surprised he didn't shove me down. "I am friend of Mithrandir, friend of Galadriel of Lothlórien." I spoke in Elvish quickly holding my palms up.
He narrowed his eyes circling me like a predator. "Why didn't you speak to Tauriel when she tried to communicate with you?"
I couldn't help the sneer I made. That was Tauriel? The beautiful auburn? "Tauriel," I huffed out a breath.
"I was afraid," I answered honestly.
"Why do you look like that?" He gestured. He wasn't the Legolas I remembered; the curious sweet Elf this Elf was a different breed.
"What?" I asked looking down at my clothes.
"Is it a spell or enchantment?" I felt my pulse speeding up. He's talking about my skin. "What is its purpose? I've never known humans to appear so strangely." He didn't speak rudely but matter-of-factly which made it hurt worse.
I went from being beautiful in his eyes to now strange. The spots on my skin were once stars in his eyes.
Was he just flattering me before to get into my pants? Is this how he truly sees me? I swallowed. No, I wasn't going to stand here and allow him to break my heart.
"It is no spell," I said in a small voice.
He saw me as strange, a conquest to conquer, not a true friend.
"My lord," An Ellon burst into the throne room hurriedly.
Legolas whipped around with a sneer, "Barasil what is the matter, can it not wait?"
His eyes flicked toward me, "Escort the human to a cell then you may tell me."
Barasil looked different, he didn't look younger that wasn't it. He looked hopeful; he looked like a 20-year-old that hadn't been hit with the reality of adulthood yet. He nodded grabbing my arm gently and began escorting me wordlessly to a dungeon. I didn't try speaking and he seemed glad for it. And it was only when I sat alone on the stone floor of the dungeon that I began to cry.
Legolas visited late in the night. I was lying on my side with my back to the bars; I wasn't asleep but staring blankly at the stone wall. He banged on the bars loudly striking the hilt of his knives against them until they rang and vibrated with an awful echo.
"You seem weak for a spy," He singsonged, as if he were enjoying throwing me into a dungeon and rattling the bars.
I ignored him, "Though for you to have gotten that far unarmed…" He mused.
He continued speaking through the bars, occasionally hitting the metal with enough force it would cause me to jump and he would offer up a malicious laugh in return.
"I am no spy." I would answer, though I had no proof.
He wasn't convinced I was a spy, but he wasn't convinced I wasn't. What he was convinced of was that I was the most peculiar human he had seen. My Sindarin was too good to have been taught by anyone other than the Elves themselves.
He changed tactics instead of insulting me and taunting me he attempted to hold polite conversation. "What is your name?"
I rolled over; my tear-stained cheeks were coated in gravel. "Pegel," [small spot]
He quirked a brow and banged the hilt against the metal bars again, "fitting,"
I rolled back over showing him my back.
"Were you born with this, or is it an enchantment?" He asked.
I gave no reply.
He laughed mirthlessly, "I'm sure you would have been quite fair before," He spoke of my vitiligo. "Maybe even fair enough for suitors."
He eventually left, and I stood. Faint echoes of distant drips resonated through the corridor, a somber melody in the oppressive silence. The cell, lit only by the feeble glow of a solitary torch, revealed the harsh reality of captivity. I approached the iron bars that confined me in the dungeon cell. The cold metal pressed against my fingertips as I reached up, fingers deftly working through the twists and turns of the bobby pins nestled in my hair.
I hate him now; I hate him to my core. How could I hate him and not Barasil? Were they not the same? Womanizers who flatter to get what they want? No, Barasil never tried to use me; even here in this time, he hasn't insulted me. Maybe I would have been fair enough for suitors.
The faint clinking of metal against metal echoed in the quiet dungeon, a sound that seemed both delicate and clandestine in the oppressive stillness. Each pin carefully extracted was a step closer to unlocking the puzzle of my confinement. I would escape, and I would go to the Golden Wood, I would never need to speak to Legolas again.
As the last tumbler fell into place, a subtle vibration passed through the bobby pins, signaling success. The lock yielded to the quiet persistence, and the heavy dungeon door creaked open with a reluctant groan. A sliver of freedom beckoned beyond the threshold, and I stepped cautiously into the dimly lit corridor.
"They underestimated you," a voice to my left caused me to jolt. I turned to see Barasil; the torchlight flickered off the cold steel of his armor and gave him an ominous gleam.
I needed his help. Think Calli. "Have you touched her?" I asked. It was a wonder he still hadn't shoved me back into my cell.
"Who?"
"Tauriel."
His cheeks reddened, he began stuttering excuses on the formalities of courting, things you don't tell a random prisoner. "Touch her. She is your bonded. I am not your enemy Barasil; I do not even wish to be in Mirkwood. I'm trying to get to the Golden Wood. Excuse me," I tried to sidestep him confidently he however broke through the spell and had enough sense to put me back into my cell. He didn't throw me, he picked me up gently.
"Are you a seer?" He whispered as he relocked the cell. I made a note he didn't confiscate my bobby pins. He had such a childlike trusting attitude about him. I'm literally locked in a dungeon accused of being a spy, he has no idea my name or anything about me yet, still trusts me.
"Yes, now go to her."
He considered it, "You think she is my bonded?"
oOo
Three days passed in the dungeon. All three members of the love triangle visited me. Tauriel was sent by the pompous prince because he thought I would respond better to a female.
"Are you comfortable, would you like a blanket?" She tried to butter me up.
Logically, I allowed it. No blanket or blanket? Which would a normal person choose?
She sat across from me in my cell while I was wrapped like a chipotle burrito. "Perhaps, you'll find it more comfortable to speak with someone of your own gender." She spoke the common tongue well, which only reminded me how she had withheld it before on our initial meeting.
"Very well, Tauriel. Ask what you will." I did in fact feel more comfortable with her.
She gave me a small polite smile, "Tell me, who sent you and what is your true purpose?"
"I've already explained to your prince. I'm not a spy. I'm just a traveler caught in circumstances beyond my control."
"Where did you learn Sindarin?" She asked.
"Lothlórien," I don't know why the answers came so easily for me with her but when Legolas was around I instantly wished to clam up.
We continued speaking until Legolas made his appearance, rattling his knife against the cell bars. He smirked in Tauriel's direction, paying me no mind. She fiddled with her fingers shyly standing to her feet and walking toward the cell door. "Thank you for visiting with me, Polod,"
Legolas tilted his head to the side, "Polod?"
Tauriel nodded, "That is her name."
He shook his head his piercing eyes found mine again, "Polod?" He wasn't questioning the name as much as he was questioning my strength. Questioning who I was as a person. I wanted him to call me out, I wanted him to accuse me of using fake made-up names but he didn't.
He swung the cell door open, Tauriel stepped out and into his arms. They embraced awkwardly in front of me, his eyes never left mine though, and remained narrowed slits.
Later that same day Tauriel returned and predictably asked questions regarding my name. I knew Legolas was just around the corner, I had heard him speaking with her before she came close to my cell and didn't hear him leave.
"Is Polod your true name?" She had asked after bringing me a bowl of broth, again buttering me up, though I refused to eat it.
"It is an epessë,"
She tilted her head, "But you are not Eldar-" She stopped herself masking her face with a gentle smile.
"What is your father-name?"
"Calliope,"
"What does it mean?" Her question caught me off guard.
I furrowed my brows, "Beautiful-voiced I think."
"Who gave you your epessë?" She asked.
Me, myself, and I isn't the correct answer. I do not think she would take kindly to cultural appropriation. Luckily the fair prince made his appearance again, speaking with Tauriel through the bars.
"You've always had a talent for drawing out information. I must say, your methods are quite... persuasive."
She maintained her professional demeanor and shot him a stern look, "Treating someone with respect isn't persuasive."
He laughed, "Oh Tauriel, you are too kind." He fiddled with one of his knives twirling it. "There's something captivating about an Elleth with authority. It adds a certain... allure."
Yes, Legolas was flirting. And Legolas was sucking at it. Learn to read the room bud.
Tauriel's expression tightened, "I am here to fulfill my duty not engage in banter."
Legolas gave her a wolfish grin, looking her body top to bottom, "Perhaps you'd like to engage in something else?"
Her ears turned a soft pink as she stepped into the corridor. "My duty is to protect the kingdom." She said though the firmness of her voice was gone. My chest tightened.
He grabbed her hand in his, "Protecting the kingdom can be such serious business. Perhaps a bit of diversion is in order."
They walked down the corridor, their steps echoing in the silence. "Diversion, Your Highness? Is that what you call it?"
I felt sick to my stomach. I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket trying to block out their conversation.
"A diversion from the weight of responsibility. A moment of levity in the midst of duty." Legolas said in a husky voice.
Tauriel giggled and their footsteps echoed through the dungeon until I was finally alone with the silence of my thoughts.
The thought of what they most likely went off to do made me want to unalive myself, so logically, I reasoned that was the best way to get out of the cell. Every visit Legolas paid me made me want to die more. I had stopped eating. I only drank water here and there but refused to eat outright. He was cruel with his words and seemed to know exactly what to say to hurt me. He wasn't the same Elf I remembered, the sweet curious Elf.
"Who do you serve? What are you after?"
I would answer the same; I am friends of Gandalf, friends of Galadriel.
"You claim innocence, but every thread of evidence we've uncovered points to your involvement in espionage. Who do you work for, Do you come from Dol Guldur?" I couldn't tell him the truth, he wouldn't believe me, and if he did would this Legolas try to use the knowledge I hold?
His eyes would light up the same bright blue they would when he used to make me laugh or smile, now though his joy was caused by my suffering. His smile still caused my heart to skip and I hated him for it.
He never touched me, stating he didn't want to be tainted as I was, another reference to my strange appearance. So he had other Elves do his dirty work. They would step into the cell with nothing but their fists. I never begged for mercy, but I wasn't the same girl I was when I met Legolas, so I fought back. One would hold my arms behind my back while the other would deliver the blows.
It was always a losing battle, Elves were larger and stronger, but I still fought. "Why are you here? Do you belong to the Necromancer?" Legolas would ask, when I didn't reply the Elves in the cell would deliver a blow.
"How did you come this deep into the forest unarmed?"
Another blow, the Elves delivering the hits had the decency to look shamed.
"I want the truth. Speak plainly, and perhaps you can avoid the consequences of espionage."
When his simple questions didn't work he took to mocking me. His words cut deep; he mocked mostly my appearance, but occasionally would throw in a comment about my stubbornness or my foolishness.
"What a peculiar sight you are," he sneered, his eyes narrowing with disdain. "Rumpled clothes, unkempt hair, and those eyes... a haunted green, as if you've seen a lifetime of misery, he always mistreats those under him. What did he promise you for your service?"
"One wonders what pitiful corner of the world you crawled out from. Did you think you could infiltrate our kingdom looking like this? And your pigment… Fascinating enchantment. You are a mockery of everything Elves love. He cannot make anything pure; he only deals in death and enchantment."
He circled around in the corridor like a predator circling its prey, each step amplifying the tension. "Is this some exotic ailment from the depths of your mysterious homeland, Dol Guldur? Or perhaps it's a reflection of your tainted soul."
He was always much more pleasant when Tauriel was around. He would put on a show to impress her, without her presence he was cruel.
"These are not marks of sin, Prince," I replied, my voice unwavering. "They are a part of me, as much as your disdainful words are a part of you."
He sneered waving a hand for more blows to get delivered. "A part of you, you say? Perhaps it's a sign of some divine punishment for your treacherous ways. The Valar marking you as one to be shunned. Tell me who sent you? What have you come for?"
On the third day of his visits I broke, when the second fist planted into my stomach I began screaming, "She doesn't love you and I hope no one ever will because you're evil!"
"Leave us!" His voice boomed causing me a momentary respite as the Elves bowed and exited my cell and he entered.
He took long strides toward me until he towered over me. "You sound almost jealous, you are very focused on my relationship with Tauriel of all things." he mocked.
I sneered, "I pity her."
He smirked, "You pity her? You pity the way she cries out my name in pleasure?"
I looked away; the tears that coated my cheek were embarrassing. "Perhaps, without those peculiar spots marring your skin, you might possess a modicum of beauty," he taunted, his tone dripping with condescension. "A shame, really. It's as if the Valar themselves marked you as unworthy of grace."
"Prince, beauty is a reflection of the soul, and in your heart, I see a darkness far uglier than any marks on my skin." I refused to call him Legolas. "No matter how regal the exterior, a rotten core will always tarnish the façade."
He laughed, "I see now why you were chosen, a sharp tongue to match your sharp wit. Who sent you?"
I gave no reply, my breath was ragged and pain pulsed through my body from my stomach.
"It's a mockery of everything we love." He pointed to my face, "The Eldar are people of the stars, and this… this appearance… This Starlight is a mockery!"
I said nothing.
"Very well, " he said after several seconds of silence dismissing himself. He didn't seem to have any emotion, shouldn't that hurt? Shouldn't it hurt if someone told you your soul was ugly and rotten? If a complete stranger told me I would perhaps cry in my room for days.
I wasted no time with my bobby pins; I was weak and dizzy but after several tries the door creaked open. Barasil was there, a silent guard. He had changed drastically, his blonde hair was disheveled and the light in his eyes was dying. He had taken my advice, he had grabbed her hand one day in passing, she rejected him immediately and told him to never speak of what happened between them to anyone. He didn't give up however, he was just far less confident in his way of courting than Legolas. He would bring her flowers one day or another day bring her a favorite treat. He was gentle with her, not at all the confident Ellon he was when I first met him.
"Time for your nightly stroll?" Barasil asked leaning against the wall.
"I'm leaving. You going to stop me?" I replied leaning against the same wall for support.
"You haven't eaten in days my friend," He sighed linking arms with me so I could lean on him for support.
He walked me along the length of the corridor and back to my cell. "Why don't you just tell him what you've told me?"
I shook my head, "I'm not telling that monster anything. You are my only friend here Barasil." I gave him a watery smile as I laid back down on the cold ground.
oOo
"I can handle it! My father does not need to know." Legolas's voice boomed through the silence.
His footsteps were hard slaps against the ground as he marched toward my cell; he whipped the door open and was suddenly before me, his nostrils flaring.
"Why are you here?!"
I yawned trying to sit up, "Caliel, Doogeas, restrain her." The two Elves bent low pulling me up by the shoulders, my blanket crumpled to the ground and I fought a shiver.
Legolas frowned, drawing his knives, "I am done with these riddles,"
He instructed one of the Elves to hold my arm out tightly as his knife came down in almost slow motion, I didn't beg for my life like I had thought I would.
"Why are you here?" He repeated.
I felt the panic rising as the cold blade came down against my wrist and then he was gone and I was falling.
I landed on at least one body that groaned softly in protest. As I untangled myself from the tangled limbs of the others, a chorus of muted groans and resigned sighs filled the air.
"What? Who are you?" One of the sets of eyes came into view, a bulbous nose and eyebrow hair that was thick enough to hide an army.
"Calico?" A voice cracked from the other side of the cell.
My head whipped around at the sound of his voice. "Dargan?" My hand was now warm with fresh blood dripping down my fingertips.
I ran to him ignoring his need for personal space and wrapped my arms around him. He looked older, his hair had streaks of gray and his eyes were outlined with crow's feet.
He didn't protest, we both began speaking at once cutting each other off with questions. "How did you get here?"
"How do you think?"
The man I was thrown on top of cleared his throat, "Excuse me, who are you?"
Dargan turned his eyes to the man, "Forgive him, that is Thorin he's a bit grumpy. Everyone this is Calliope."
The men around him began asking their own questions and Dargan and I both ignored them, "Dar, are you able to control it? I just keep getting tossed through time."
He gave me a gentle smile, "It's controlled by your emotions." He pulled slightly away from our embrace, "You're tossed around by time because you're a woman."
It wasn't a joke; it was his matter-of-fact way of speaking I had missed so much.
"What emotions?" I asked wincing at the pain that dripped down my palm.
"When we arrived the emotion you felt when we crossed over into Lothlórien, that emotion is imprinted now with traveling."
"What do you mean? I was feeling so many things?"
He shook his head, "No, think of the one feeling you felt that overpowered the others, that is the feeling that triggers it. Once you figure it out you'll be able to travel at will."
How did I feel? I was certainly worried, scared maybe? But not every time I'm afraid to travel.
"For me, it's a feeling of awe. I try to channel that. I do not travel simply by being amazed, or I can be in astonishment and if it's not enough I won't travel. It has to be exactly the right amount."
Unwanted. That was how I felt, Unwanted and excluded. The type of loneliness that swallows you whole if you focus on it. That was why most of my traveling revolved around Legolas. Because I loved him.
"How old are you now?" I asked touching his face tenderly.
"38, I haven't seen you since I left Lothlórien." He sighed as if he were reliving the memory.
He was older than me by a decade, how is this possible? He pulled his cloak off and laid it on his lap, "You look like crap, try to get some sleep." He gestured for me to lie in his lap. He was so different, confident, welcoming to touch even. But he was still Dargan, still blunt, still the same man as before. I nodded numbly and laid my head in his lap, sleep didn't find me however, the men in his company took the opportunity to begin hissing at each other as soon as I closed my eyes.
"What's that? Who did that? What happened?" He lifted my bleeding wrist up high above my head causing me to hiss in pain.
"Dar, I want to go home," I whined softly as his hands began petting my hair. This was the closest we had ever been.
I was awoken by the unmistakable sound of a knife hitting the metal bars of the cell and couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips.
"Wee lass," one of the dwarves said as they shuffled around to guard me. Chivalry might be dead, but not for dwarves.
Dargan made to stand as well allowing my body to slump behind him further into shadow. My wrist has been bandaged, in what looked like strips of his shirt.
"Thorin Oakenshield, the king requires your presence." The cell door opened, Thorin stood tall and walked through the cell following after the Elves. I could see over the Dwarves and man in front of me so I assumed all the Elves had left.
It was a tense silence, and I took to babbling to comfort myself. "This isn't like Lórien, they're cruel here. You need to get out of here Dar, they'll hurt you."
One of the Dwarves snorted, "All Elves are cruel, nothing new."
Dargan turned almost in slow motion, he stooped low, "What did they do to you?" The voice that left him was foreign, a nasal hiss that was out for blood.
"He-" I started and stopped my bottom lip trembling.
"Thranduil?" He asked kneeling before me and grasping my hands with his.
"Legolas," I answered.
His brows furrowed, "Legolas?"
I nodded, "He'll hurt you Dar."
"What did he do to you?" He hissed, a vein popped in his forehead as waves of rage radiated off of him.
I couldn't tell him, I couldn't tell him that Legolas took pleasure in every blow I received.
"The stone in your hand what is it?" Tauriel's voice was heard through the cell causing me to jump. Dargan further shielded my body from view with his as one of the Dwarves answered.
"It is a talisman. A powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone, they will be forever cursed." He was attractive for a dwarf, clean cut, and lacking copious amounts of facial hair. "Or not, depending on whether you believe that kind of thing. It's just a token."
I saw him smile in Tauriel's direction, "A runestone. My mother gave it to me so I'd remember my promise."
I couldn't see her reaction through Dargan's body, "What promise?" She asked.
"That I will come back to her." The dwarf replied to her.
"A lover's quarrel?" Dargan asked me.
His question angered me, I'm not sure if it was a joke or not but he obviously saw my feelings for Legolas. Was I truly that transparent? All of Edoras knew of my crush, Legolas himself knew of course Dargan would know.
"-Why would you think that?" I hissed.
He tilted his head to the side, "Your Sindarin is good."
"It is Mereth-en-Gilith, the Feast of Starlight," Tauriel said to the Dwarf. "All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars."
I seethed but held my tongue.
"It is memory, precious and pure. The Elves first awoke under the stars and according to tradition the stars were the first thing they saw, and the first word spoken by them was ele!, 'behold!' when they first saw." Tauriel continued annoyingly.
Oh yes, Elves love starlight, cue the eye-roll.
"Do you remember when they would call you that?" Dargan asked tone deafly.
"I remember too many things," I replied solemnly.
Tauriel and the Dwarf continued speaking quietly as if none of us were listening; they seemed in their own world.
I fell asleep to their soft conversation, woken briefly by Dargan's jostling and then his loud, "Sorry."
I woke for the final time by the Dwarves. "I'll wager the sun's on the rise. It must be nearly dawn."
"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" One of them lamented.
Tauriel was gone, and the Dwarf she was speaking with had taken to staring longingly at the spot she had previously stood.
Was he the one Legolas told me of? How could she love him? Elves and Dwarves were sworn enemies, and she had a soulmate a literal soulmate.
I was broken from my musing when a hobbit appeared in the spot where Tauriel once stood. "Bilbo!" One of the Dwarves exclaimed.
He held a ring of keys in one hand and held his other palm out, "Shhh! There are guards nearby!"
His hair was a curly mess of brown, his eyes shined with glee as he unlocked the cell. "The stairs. You first. Ori!"- "No, over there that way," the Dwarves all began arguing about which was the best way to escape.
"Not that way, down here. Follow me." The hobbit called out with confidence walking in a different direction. Torches flickered on the rocky walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper tales of forgotten times.
I followed for only a few paces, I wasn't a member of whatever fellowship this was. What would this be called it's not really about a ring is it? The passageways, carved into the living rock, took unexpected turns and led to chambers adorned with stalactites and stalagmites.
Dargan caught on quickly and turned around, "You're not coming?"
I shook my head, "This is your adventure Dar," I shrugged.
He frowned then tackled me in a hug, it was foreign and strange. "Yeah, ok, that was for you not for me." He tried to laugh off the fact he was bad at giving hugs.
"I'll miss you, Calico,"
"I'll see you again," I promised. Though I don't know if I can uphold it.
We came to a fork in the hallway, the dwarves went one way and I went the other. It was terrifying, and exhilarating. The cave system was vast and so beautiful. In one chamber, a natural pool reflected the soft glow of phosphorescent fungi, creating an ethereal ambiance. In another, a grand hall opened up, its ceiling adorned with clusters of crystal formations that sparkled like stars. That chamber happened to be full of Elves, who had all been drinking. The Elves, their attire adorned with leaves and blossoms, twirled in rhythmic patterns that seemed to mirror the very essence of nature itself. It was different from the celebration in Lothlórien; the Elves here were less refined, less formal.
I tried to weave my way through the crowds keeping my head down. That did not work and I was easily discovered. "Stop her!"
With nimble feet and agile moves, the Elves gracefully pursued me through the grand hall. I pushed and shoved my way to evade them. Their laughter transformed into hushed murmurs, and the once-melodious music took on a tense note. A familiar blonde stood in front of me, a circlet on his brow, he was unaware of the pursuit holding a glass of wine in one hand speaking with an Elleth. I shoved him hard, not simply to move him. He didn't even stumble, I was passed him by the time he turned and registered what had happened.
"Who touched me?" He cried out, "Who just touched me?"
In a swift and decisive move, I seized a table and, with a burst of strength, tipped it over, sending a cascade of food and dishes crashing to the ground. It did little to stop the pursuing Elves and only further brought attention to myself.
My chest was heaving; I had no energy left and cursed myself for my hunger strike. Legolas still seemed to be one of the few unaware there was a prisoner who crashed the party even though I had shoved him aside. He wandered around aimlessly grabbing different Elleth by the hand like a madman.
"The easy way or the hard way?" One of the Elves in front of me asked to which I gave no reply.
I focused on the way I felt that day, the feeling that was already just under the surface, the deep loneliness, the unwantedness. I sunk to my knees and watched the Elves disappear. The echoes of laughter and music had dissipated, replaced by an eerie silence. The once vibrant space now seemed suspended in a moment that transcended the normal flow of time, I was back in New Jersey. And I had every intention of staying. Now that I know what emotion causes it, I'll just go out of my way to not feel it. That's simple, right?