Out of Reality: Part VII
by Alexandra
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Adalia yawned as she woke up. She opened her eyes and looked around her in confusion. The last thing she remembered was riding in the night. How then, did she end up sleeping on the ground?

“You fell asleep on your horse,” commented Legolas as he walked into her sight.

“Really? Can’t say I’ve ever done that before. I guess it’s a miracle that I didn’t fall off.”

Legolas chuckled. “Well, you didn’t. Anyway, once you’re ready, we’ll keep going. There’s a stream on the other side of the trees if you want to wash up.”

She nodded and stood, stretching her sore muscles. She pushed through the trees and stopped next to the stream. It was deep enough for her to take an effective bath in, though the water was extremely cold by her standards. Either way, she let the water wash off the dirt and grime of their travels.

“Adalia, we should get going,” called Legolas from the other side of the trees.

“I’m coming,” she answered, climbing out of the water and quickly dressing. As she was wringing water out of her hair she heard a twig snap behind her. “I already said I’m coming,” she started to say, but stopped when she turned around.

Something more grotesque than words could describe was coming towards her and there was more than one. Their skin was dark, their armor crude, and their faces repulsive. She screamed and ducked, an arrow narrowly missing her head.

Legolas burst through the trees and wasted no time firing arrows into the crowd of orcs. “Get out of here!” he shouted at Adalia.

She turned and ran to the horses and searched through one of the bags. She mounted and then pulled her gun out of the bag, aiming it at the trees. Legolas came through a few moments later, his knives nothing but flashes of metal. Adalia knew that she couldn’t shoot or she would risk hitting the elf.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and she turned to see what seemed to be the leader, aiming an arrow at Legolas. She didn’t waste a moment as she aimed at him, firing one swift shot.

The leader fell and Legolas turned, the last of the orcs in his group dead. Adalia grinned at him halfheartedly, putting her gun back in the bag. Legolas opened his mouth to say something, but she never heard it. She was knocked to the ground off her horse, her left arm making a sickening crunch beneath her.

A heavy body lay on top of her and the stench was near unbearable. One last orc had stayed in the trees and now attacked. Legolas notched two arrows in a flash and sent them into the beast. He then ran over to the two and shoved the dead orc off of Adalia.

She cried in pain as he helped her sit up. Her arm was at an odd angle and she knew that it was broken. “What were those things?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Orcs,” he replied grimly. He held up her arm and she cried out again, salty tears stinging her eyes. “We have to get you to a healer. We are only two days ride from the city. Do you think you can ride?”

Adalia looked up at her horse doubtfully. “I… I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to take any chances. Come on, you’ll ride with me.” Legolas picked her up and placed her on his horse, mounting up behind her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he spoke in elvish to the horse. They then rode at a hard gallop, rarely slowing down.

“It’s not that bad an injury,” Adalia said, not looking at her arm. She knew she’d be sick if she did. “I’ve had broken bones before.”

Legolas gently shook his head. “It is bad enough. I would feel more comfortable if you were with a healer lindor.”

Adalia sighed and leaned back against him, turning her head so that her forehead rested against his neck. “You worry too much luchador.”

He smiled and urged the horse to go faster. By not stopping or slowing down, they managed to reach the city within the day. Adalia had told him to slow down several times, but he refused, his worry for her still great.

The grand city of Minas Tirith came into view, towering over the plain. Each of the seven levels of the city shown with its own brilliance. Legolas flew through the gleaming gates, wrought of mithril. He urged the horse straight up to the Houses of Healing. Leaping down, he helped Adalia from the horse and began to carry her inside.

“Dammit Legolas, I can walk!” she protested, trying to get out of his arms.

“Do not argue with me,” replied Legolas, holding her closer to him, hindering her.

“Legolas es un asno,” she muttered. When she caught his look, she sneered at him. “Calling you an ass in a different language helps me to not be quite so pissed at you.”

Legolas entered into the house and was immediately greeted by a young woman. “I am Hyrothas. Follow me.” She wasted no time by questioning them, simply led them to a room down a hallway, indicating the bed.

Legolas gently set Adalia down and silently backed up to the wall when Hyrothas stood next to the bed.

“This is quite an injury milady,” spoke Hyrothas, gently handling Adalia’s arm.

“Well, it’s nothing that a cast and some morphine can’t cure,” Adalia said through gritted teeth, the pain growing.

Hyrothas’ eyes raised to hers. “I do not know of this thing you speak of, this… morphine. Is it a plant?”

Adalia’s eyes widened. “Oh please tell me you have something like pain killers here.”

Hyrothas nodded. “Rest assured. We have our own way of treating injuries.”

Legolas stepped back up to the bed. “I must go speak with Aragorn. I shall return quickly.” Adalia halfheartedly smiled at him, knowing he would do everything to get back to her side. And she wished he would be quick. The elven prince was the only soul she knew in this place.

Legolas sprinted up to the citadel, dodging those in the street. The guard did not need him to speak, for he recognized the elf prince. He bowed to him as Legolas went through the open door.

Someone had been aware of his presence because Aragorn and Arwen appeared in the room only seconds after he did. “Legolas, it is good to see you!” they both exclaimed, coming over to hug their friend.

“It is good to see you as well,” he answered, not bothering to try and stop the smile that came to his face.

“Where is this human that Gimli has spoken of?” asked Aragorn, glancing over the elf’s shoulder.

“She is at the Houses of Healing at the moment,” explained Legolas. “Not yet a day has gone by since a roving band of orcs attacked us, injuring her. She simply broke her arm and now Hyrothas is looking after her.”

Aragorn shook his head. “It has been years since Sauron fell, yet his servants still plague us. We will see an end to them yet. Come, why don’t you speak with us about this human, she seems most odd.”

“I am afraid that I gave her my word to return quickly. Adalia is not at home among Middle-Earth. I do not think it wise to leave her alone in one place for too long.”

Aragorn nodded and turned to Arwen. “Will you see to setting up a room for this Adalia? I wish to go with Legolas.”

Arwen smiled. “Of course. Return quickly for my curiosity is also strong.”

Legolas and Aragorn left, strolling down to the Houses of Healing. Those in the streets parted to let their king go by. They soon came to the House in which Adalia was resting. They went down the hallway and paused outside the door, watching as Hyrothas helped to heal Adalia.

“I am almost finished milady,” Hyrothas said, setting the split along the arm.

“This is why I sit at a computer,” muttered Adalia. ‘You can’t get yourself killed while doing it.”

Aragorn and Legolas entered the room at this point, making Adalia sit up. She tried to smile at the new arrival, but the pain in her arm brought a sharp cry from her mouth. Legolas’ face was a mask of concern.

“Are you all right?”

“No por supuesto. No tengo razon, rompo el brazo. Pero, cuando veo tu, estoy contento.” She smiled and the elf sighed, having no idea what was said.

“Adalia speaks another language from her world,” explained Legolas. “A language which I have never heard of before. I would not be surprised if she were saying rather rude things to me in this tongue.”

Adalia laughed. “I simply said, of course not. I am not lucky, I broke my arm. But, when I see you, I am glad.” She blushed slightly at the words but soon directed her attention to the one behind the elf. “Who did you bring with you?”

“Adalia, this is Aragorn, or the King Elessar,” he introduced. “Aragorn, this is Adalia, the one that Gimli has spoken of.”

Aragorn welcomed the girl warmly. “I am glad to see you here. You are now safe from the orcs and I offer to you a place in my kingdom for however long you would need it.”

Adalia’s face fell, remembering why she was there. She glanced around the room and then back to the king. “Thank you,” she whispered quietly.

“I still am not giving up hope that I may return to my world. But, as long as you offer, I guess I will start to call Gondor my home.”

Aragorn smiled. “Then come, there is a room being prepared for you. And I would wish to hear of your travels this evening, of your world in particular.”

Adalia nodded and put her smile back on. She followed the two out of the house after Hyrothas had given her strict instructions to return the next day. She didn’t know if she could ever truly call Gondor her home, but she would try and make the best out of it.




| Part VIII |
| Index |