Out of Reality: Part VIII
by Alexandra
-----
Adalia sighed as she walked through one of the gardens of the palace.
It was late in the night and sleep would not come to her. Dinner had
been mostly made up of her talking. For once she had just wanted to fade
into the woodwork, but the constant attention of those around her would
prevent that easily enough.
She sat down under one of the trees, hidden from the moonlight under its
flowering branches. She felt utterly out of place. At least in
Mirkwood, the forest seemed familiar to her. Here, there was the closest
thing to the city that she had seen. But it wasn’t familiar or
comfortable for her.
Adalia wanted to go home. She knew she always would. The feeling had
grown dormant in the past weeks; Legolas often refused to let her dwell
on the subject. Now with a change in surroundings, it sprang up within
her like a flame. She felt like a child, wanting her mother’s arms
around her.
She looked down at her hands folded in her lap. She hit one of the
buttons on her watch that made it light up. She didn’t know if the time
was right for this place, but she didn’t care. She hit the button for
the date and grimaced when she saw the answer. Her birthday was going to
be lonely this year.
Adalia looked around her, at the unfamiliar plants and flowers, and the
unknown constellations, and the much bigger moon. She was an alien here.
She dropped her head into her hands to try and muffle her sobs.
---
Legolas had left his balcony doors open, letting the cool air into the
room. A sound from far away came to his sensitive ears, waking him from
his sleep. He knew that it was the cries of a woman. He stood and
walked outside, leaning against the railing. The garden was spread out
before him, a multitude of colors in the moonlight. And he could tell
the sound was coming from within it.
Leaving his room, he moved through the palace, careful not to wake the
others. Nodding at one of the guards down the hall, he passed out to the
gardens, and followed the sound of the cries. He turned a corner and
watched Adalia weep under the shade of a tree.
“Adalia?” he asked, moving into the moonlight.
Her head shot up in surprise, not hearing him. She swiped at her eyes
with her good hand before standing up. “Legolas. What are doing here?
You should be asleep.”
“I could say the same,” he answered. She turned away from him. “What
is wrong?”
She shrugged and stood up, leaning against the wall. “Nothing.”
Legolas stared at her before leaning next to her. “You know me well
enough by now to know that I do not give up quite so easily. Now tell me
why you were crying.”
She still didn’t look at him, but offered a whispered reply. “I guess I
just feel so out of place here. It’s nothing big. Same old same old.”
“I do not think that you are telling me the whole truth,” he pressed.
She sighed. “It’s my birthday today. Okay? Happy now? It’s my
birthday and I should be happy, but I’m here crying my eyes out like a
spoiled child because no one knows or cares.”
The elf wrapped his arms around her shoulders, careful to not crush her
arm. “Well, now I know. How old are you?”
Adalia gently pulled away from him, feeling better by his comfort.
“Normally, I and any other woman would be insulted by that question. But
if you must know, I am twenty-eight.”
Legolas smiled and reached up to cup her face in his hands, looking into
her gray eyes. “Well, happy twenty-eighth birthday lindor.” He kissed
her forehead and then dropped his hands. “Come, walk with me.”
She did as he said and strolled next to him silence. The feel of his
lips on her skin was something that she had never felt before. She
wanted him to kiss her again, but she quickly pushed the thought out of
her mind. “How old are you Legolas?”
The elven prince glanced over at her. “I am nearly three thousand years
old.”
Adalia choked on air and coughed several times. “Three thousand? How
is that possible?”
“All the elves are immortal,” he explained to her as he watched her
reaction with amusement.
“So you’re going to live forever?” she asked as she regained her breath.
Legolas shrugged. “We can be slain, so I might die in battle. There
are also times that elves can die of grief. We are only immune from
disease and aging.”
Adalia nodded and gazed at him in wonder. “And to think I was sitting
here thinking you were no more than twenty-five!”
He laughed and they started to walk again. The silence between them was
comfortable; they were simply enjoying each other’s company. The quiet
was broken though as another question came to Adalia’s mind. “Legolas,
I’ve always been wondering this. Why are you always watching over me? I
mean, you’re a prince, I would think you’d have something better to do
than to baby-sit a lost mortal.”
“I was first told to look after you because I am one of the most well
traveled in my kingdom. I know more of humans, dwarves, hobbits, and
wizards than most in Mirkwood. It was simply the most logical thing to
be done. And I hardly think that I am babysitting you.”
Adalia smiled. “Thanks for everything Legolas. If I am forced to stay
here, I don’t think that this will be quite so bad if you’re with me most
of the time. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all you have
done.”
Legolas waved it away with his hand. “Being with you is not a chore
that needs retribution. There is one thing you could do for me though.
You can tell me what luchador means.”
Adalia laughed. “Well, I guess I kept the secret long enough. Luchador
means fighter, plain and simple. The word flashed through my mind the
day that you saved me from those horrible spiders.” She shuddered at the
thought of them and Legolas wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
“I cannot say I do not like the name. And you forget we are days from
Mirkwood, the spiders are quite far from us.”
“Still, I can’t get them out of my head! They are the stuff that
nightmares are made of. It’s amazing I haven’t had any nightmares yet.”
Legolas smiled. “Well, you let me know if those nightmares come up out
of nowhere. Your luchador will come and rescue you.”
Adalia laughed and Legolas was glad to see her sadness forgotten. “I’ll
make sure to do that.” They walked back inside, both happier in spirit.
---
When Adalia woke in the morning, a large bouquet of flowers sat on her
dresser. She realized with a grin that they had come from the tree than
she was sitting under last night. Maybe she wouldn’t be so alone on her
birthday.
She quickly dressed and left her room, heading to the Houses of Healing.
She was not that hungry and wanted to get her meeting with Hyrothas out
of the way. The redheaded healer was waiting for her outside.
Hyrothas led her back to the same room she had been at yesterday. “Is
your arm bothering you at all?” she asked, resetting the splint.
Adalia shook her head. “It’s been fine. How long until my arm is fully
healed?”
Hyrothas gave her a steaming liquid to drink, which she forced down.
“Well, given the nature of the break and the amount of herbs you take, I
would say about two weeks.”
Adalia’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s fast. Do I have to take
anything during this healing phase?
”
“Every morning drink a cup of water infused with the flower of Arien.”
Adalia blinked and stared blankly at the healer. “What?”
“It will be done,” spoke Legolas, coming into the room. “When you were
not at breakfast Adalia, I came looking for you.”
“At least that explains why you just materialized out of nowhere,” she
responded. “You understood what she said?”
Legolas nodded. “I will see it done. Come lindor.” He took her hand
and led her out of the house and outside. She followed him curiously
through the city, down to one of the lower levels. Their horses were
waiting there, one of them fully saddled.
“Am I right in thinking that we’re going for a ride?” Adalia asked,
smiling.
Legolas smiled as well. “I thought maybe you would like to ride away
from the city.”
“Well, you have to remember that the city I live in is ten times worse
than this. But I think this will be fun nonetheless. Thanks for
thinking of it.”
He shrugged and mounted his horse. “You deserve something on your
birthday, however small.”
It took several minutes, but Adalia finally mounted onto her horse with
her broken arm. They set out to the countryside, the city slowly
shrinking in the distance. Throughout the ride, she told the elf of how
her people celebrated their birthdays in her world. She told him most
everything she knew on the subject, even told him about some of her
birthday parties; especially the disaster of her fifth birthday where her
dog had gotten loose and eaten all her cake.
“It was horrible, I was sitting there bawling because I could no longer
blow out the candles.”
He smiled and stopped his horse, jumping down. “It sounds as if you
have many fond memories of your childhood.”
Adalia shrugged and placed her hand on his shoulder, helping her to
dismount. “I wouldn’t call my fifth birthday a fond memory, but I guess
I do. I was lucky, even though my parents are divorced, I never had to
worry because I always had what I needed.”
“I do not understand this word you use, divorce. What does it mean?”
Adalia sighed and sat against a particularly large boulder. “In my
world, true love is a very hard thing to find. Two people get married,
thinking that they are in love, but it’s not real. They separate from
each other and sometimes children are left to decide which parent they
want to live with.”
Legolas watched her as she told him what divorce meant. It was hard to
imagine such a thing. Among the elves, love is for life. “It sounds
like an unpleasant thing.”
Adalia shrugged. “My parents divorced when I was seven. Like most
kids, I had thought that it was all my fault, which it wasn’t. It is an
awful thing and it happens all too often in my world.” He handed her a
waterskin and she took a sip from the cool liquid. “But that’s enough
about me. Why don’t you tell me about you? In all this time I’ve spent
with you, it always ends up with me talking. Now it’s your turn.”
He chuckled and sat down across from her before taking out the food that
he had brought. Adalia listened intently as he told her about growing up
as the son of a king. His life was so much different from hers it was
almost staggering. He tried to not spend too much time on certain
things, but she kept asking questions when he told her about the One
Ring.
“One ring to rule them all,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Where are the
other rings?”
“Most are lost. The three elven rings are now in the Grey Havens. But
these events occurred nearly ten years ago. The darker times are in the
past.” He looked up at the sky and then rose, gathering their things.
“The night approaches, it is time to return.”
Adalia nodded and stood up, helping gather their things. Legolas had to
help her on her horse again. She felt helpless not being able to use all
her strength with her broken arm and told him so. He only laughed. “It
is not as if this is any trouble,” he said, his hand firmly on her waist
as she mounted.
They rode back to the city quickly, wanting to escape the coming night.
They didn’t talk much, though neither minded that; they were each lost in
their own thoughts. They left the horses at the stables and walked
together up the streets.
When they reached the palace, Legolas turned to her. “I have some
things that I have to attend to. Dinner will be in an hour I believe.
Why don’t you wear something nice?”
She arched her eyebrow at his grin. “What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “Nothing really.” Before she could ask him anything else,
he turned and disappeared down a hallway.
Adalia rolled her eyes. “Damn luchador.” She had forgotten about his
sensitive hearing, and didn’t know that he smiled at her remark.
| Part IX |
| Index |