Out of Reality: Part I
by Alexandra
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Adalia brushed her long brown tresses out of her face as she stepped outside her office building. The night was beginning to close in and the wind was picking up. Hiking her backpack higher onto her shoulders, she started off down the street. Normally she would take a cab home or drive home her self, but for once in a great while she felt like walking.

The streets weren’t very crowded in the city of Chicago, seeing as it was well past normal working hours. Adalia’s gray eyes scanned the passing people as she went along, uneasy about them. She normally paid no attention to the others on the street, but for some reason her senses were heightened.

A pair of footsteps seemed to echo loudly in her mind. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw someone gaining on her. Her hand slipped inside her purse to grasp the gun there. She was never really paranoid, but her brother had given her the gun when their house had been broken into months ago. Never once had she felt the need to use it.

Adalia turned into Grant Park, the person following her. She tried to appear calm, but inside she was shaking. She came among a group of trees and turned around, wondering what was going to happen. A branch snapped behind her and she whirled, tripping on a root. She reached out and placed her hand against one of the trees to brace herself.

All at once she felt as if she were falling. Not falling to the ground, falling away from reality. A force pulled her and caused her to close her eyes to keep herself from being sick. She had no clue what was going on and opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. Her pursuer was forgotten in an instant as she unceremoniously hit the ground.

She was reluctant to open her eyes; afraid that she would find she was fatally wounded. When she did bring herself to see the sun, she stopped in wonder and fear. The sun hadn’t been out, it was supposed to be dark.

Yet, there it was above the trees of impossible height. She stood in the middle of a clearing that had not been there before. A stream ran quietly next to her, disappearing among the trees.

Adalia dropped her bags on the ground and then picked herself up. It was warmer here; wherever here was. For the first time in her life, she was lost and she was scared. She noticed her hand was shaking a bit as she reached down to her purse. She cursed herself again, fully believing that this was all somehow her fault. Her slender fingers wrapped around the handle of the nine-millimeter before raising it and looking down the barrel with her gray eyes.

At first she saw nothing. She didn’t expect to, she just felt slightly better knowing that there was something for her defend herself with in her hands. Before she truly knew what was going on, she was staring straight at several arrows. Arrows notched to bows, held by men; men with pointy ears.

She clearly gave a start, surprised by the sudden appearance of the beings. She tried not to breathe because each breath she took seemed to thunder in her ears. She had always liked to think of herself as brave. But when she was looking at several possible hostile creatures with arrows pointed at her, any courage she may have had evaporated.

“Ona ta a’amin,” said the one that was in the middle of the six that had now spread around her.

Adalia looked at him blankly. She had never heard the language in her life. She couldn’t identify it let alone speak it. Her palms were beginning to sweat and she prayed that she wouldn’t drop the gun. Not that she could hit anything with her nerves shot the way they were. “I have no clue what it is that you just said,” she answered shakily.

“Give me whatever you hold in your hand,” the man, if he could be called that, said.

Adalia was scared, confused, and was starting to get irritated with herself for every thing that had gone wrong in the last few minutes. She did not want to deal with these people, and her voice showed it. “Let me think about that,” she said sarcastically. “No. Why don’t you tell me who the hell you are and why you’re pointing arrows at me.”

Their eyes darkened slightly, not liking this human. “We are the wood-elves that serve King Thranduil of Mirkwood. You are here without his leave. Until you lower your weapon, we will not lower ours.”

Adalia started to laugh; though if she had heard she would have claimed it to be a very strained laugh. She lowered her gun and said, “This is one great joke. Seriously though, who put you up to this? The prosthetics are great and all, especially the whole onie tai ami thing. Nice touch. Now really, what’s going on?”

The beings looked at each other. “We do not know what it is you speak of.” Adalia had an underlying fear that they were telling the truth. “Okay, Mr. Elf. Take me to your leader. Maybe he can give me some answers.”

She walked forward, bringing her bags with her. The elves grouped around her, leading her through the forest. She tried to talk to the elves, or whatever they had called themselves, but they did not take well to talking with a stranger. Adalia was trying to keep her mind on anything that would keep her from remembering what was going on. The fact that she didn’t know what was going on was scary enough.

The group soon cleared the trees and came into a clearing. There was a beautiful palace of sorts in front of her and that was where she was led. Adalia knew that nothing of that sort existed in her world. So the question came to her again, piercing her thoughts with urgency; where was she?

With the eyes of a newborn she looked around her as she was led into the palace. There were more elves walking the halls, all dressed in attire that she considered being strange. She was led to what she assumed was something of a great hall, though she would not know if she weren’t. On a throne of carven wood sat a man with a crown of woodland flowers upon his head, for it was nigh on spring. He broke off the conversation he was having and turned to look at the new arrivals.

The elves around Adalia bowed before the one in front of her spoke. “Your Majesty, we came across this human in one of the northern clearings.” The elf looked meaningfully at her, intending her to bow.

“What’s up?” she said instead, merely nodding her head. Adalia knew nothing of proper customs and she probably wouldn’t have bowed if she did.

The king stared at her blankly, wondering what kind of greeting that was. He eyes her rugged appearance, a dusty short sleeved shirt and pants made of some sort of material he had not seen before. “Who are you?” Thranduil asked, not sure what to make of this human.

“I’m Adalia. Adalia Copperton, if you want the full name. Since you seem to be in charge, why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on here.”

He looked at her for a moment more before turning to the one who led her in. “Was she found armed?”

The elf nodded and held up the gun that he had taken from her. “She pointed this at us, though I am unsure of what kind of weapon it is.”

“Not sure what kind of weapon it is?” repeated Adalia, stunned. “What are you people Amish? Let me show you what it does.” She held out her hand, but the elf made no move to give her her gun back. Rolling her eyes, she said, “Look you don’t hurt me, I don’t hurt you. You have my word or whatever it is you need for collateral here.”

The king nodded slightly and she was given her gun back, though out of the corner of her eye she could see several arrows being put to the string just in case. She wiped her palms against her jeans, trying to dry them. She saw her own hand shaking as she reached for the gun, which reminded her how truly frightened she was. Adalia looked around the room and spotted a vase in the corner. Hoping she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, she took aim and fired.

The vase shattered and the king was on his feet in an instant. In a shorter span of time and arrow was pressed against her throat and she froze, feeling the cold tip against her skin. “What form of magic is this?” hissed Thranduil.

Adalia was afraid to answer, she couldn’t be sure that what she said wouldn’t send an arrow through her heart. “There is no magic,” she whispered, though the sharp ears of the elves clearly heard every word.

The gun was ripped from her hand as she was taken from the room. She started to protest, but the elves did not pay attention. Their strength was also that of many men, she could do nothing about her situation if she really tried.

Thranduil listened as she was taken from the room and then turned back to those he had been speaking with. Each wore an expression of shock and confusion, however well hidden. “She does not appear to hail from Gondor or Rohan, nor any other human settlement that I know of.” Turning to his son Legolas he said, “I want you to find out what you can about her. Wait for a time though, see if being held within walls will dim her resolve.”

Legolas nodded. He bowed slightly and then went to pick up the bags the girl had left behind. Pulling them into a spare room, he cautiously opened them, wondering if something would explode. He looked in curiously, pulling out various things, such as clothes in a style that he had never seen before.

Three different size things had several buttons on them and he wondered what would happen if he hit them. He set them aside instead, pulling out other things inside. A bunch of round disks were in a black case and took some of them out to examine them. There were different colors and words on each disk and the case seemed to be designed for them. He next handled a black and white box. As he opened it, black and white pieces tumbled out onto the floor. Legolas picked them up curiously, wondering what they were. He then found a key ring, though the keys were of a different design then he had ever seen. The only other things he found really in the two bags were some cases with powder of liquid in them.

Legolas set everything on the bed and ran his eyes over them. All in all, the objects were all foreign to him. He picked up the last thing that he had not examined, the black object that she had held in her hands. He was slightly scared to hold it; not sure what set it off. It seemed harmless by itself, but after what it had done to that vase, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Setting it back down, he found that he had actually been looking at everything for over an hour. He decided that he could go and talk to the human now. The elven prince left the room and started toward the lower levels of the palace, several guards coming with him. He soon came to stand outside the bars of the human’s door and gazed inside.

She was tossing a rock up and down as she lay on the bed, catching it each time. She sighed with boredom and threw the rock upward with extra animosity. She was confused and that was making her scared, though she didn’t want to admit it.

“Who are you?” asked Legolas as she threw the rock again.

Adalia started in surprise, having no idea that the elves could move so quietly. The rock narrowly missed hitting her head as she stood up, brushing off her clothes. “I already told you, I’m Adalia Copperton. Now can I ask if I’m ever getting out of here? Otherwise there is going to be hell to pay when I get back. My lawyer is going to tear you a new one.”

“What is a lawyer?” he asked, his eyes quizzical.

Adalia’s mouth dropped open slightly. These people were worse than Amish, they were archaic. “Okay. Here’s a simple question. Where…am…I?”

“You are in the realm of Mirkwood within in Middle-Earth.”

Adalia stared at him. She would have started to laugh outright had he not looked so serious. “That’s impossible. I have never heard of Middle-Earth before. I live in a big country called the USA. Sometimes I can be dense but not so much as to miss an entire county. Now can you tell me the fastest way to get back to Chicago?”

“I have no knowledge of this place you speak of.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me. Where. Are. We?”

“I have not lied, nor would I. We are within the forest of Mirkwood, ruled by my father, King Thranduil.”

Adalia looked at him. “So here we have a prince. Great, something else for me to get used to, royal commands.” She sank down on her bed, her head between her hands.

“Are you ill?” Legolas asked.

“No, I’m just having delusions. Why is it that nobody knows of anything I talk about? It’s like everyone is from another world. What am I doing here? And why can’t I just go home? I’m going insane. That’s it. I’m probably sitting in an asylum right now, muttering about elves and giant trees and royal families as the sedatives run through my veins. That’s it. So maybe if I just sit back and relax, I’ll wake up in a padded room with a straightjacket on.”

She curled up on the bed, her legs drawn up to her chest. Adalia knew that she was now no braver that a small child was. All she wanted was to go home. But she knew that somehow her wish wouldn’t come true so easily.

Legolas felt pity for her, as did the rest of the elves with him. “I assure you that what you see is real. Should you cooperate with us, I can see to it that you are given better accommodations. Why did you attack my people?”

“I did not attack your people,” she protested softly. “They held a weapon on me, so I held a weapon on them. And I would recommend you don’t point the gun at anyone, you might accidentally shoot them.”

“How did you come here?”

Adalia smiled bitterly and raised her head. “You think I know? Do you really think I would chose to come here and be locked up when I can be with my family and friends at home? I don’t know how I came here. All I know is someone was chasing me and I went into the park near my work. I tripped and fell against a tree. Next thing I know I’m in this form of purgatory with arrows pointed at my heart.”

The elves discussed this among themselves for a few seconds, using their own tongue so that the human wouldn’t hear what they were saying. Legolas then turned back to her and said, “Do you remember anything odd about this tree?”

Adalia nearly snapped. “You’re asking me about a tree? A tree is a tree! I’m hard pressed to tell the difference between an oak and an elm tree. I don’t know and I don’t care. They give me air and paper and that’s just about all I need to know.”

“Do the trees speak to you?” the prince asked, slightly surprised that anyone could disregard trees so easily.

“Trees speaking?” she asked, raising her head further off the pillow. She stared at him as if he had lost his mind and then laid her head back down. “Trees don’t speak Einstein. Maybe one of those nature people thinks so, but I don’t.”

Legolas was annoyed and confused about this human. Therefore his tone was sharp as he spoke. “I am through here. If things are to change, you will be told so.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his guards following him.

Adalia closed her eyes. The tears sprang forth and she did nothing to stop them. She stayed curled up in the fetal position, soon falling asleep with images of home in her mind.


| Part II |
| Index |