Out of Reality: Part IX
by Alexandra
-----
When Adalia was finally ready to go to dinner, she was told to wait in
her room by a servant. She had no idea what was going on and was
rather
angry about the delay; she could feel her stomach protesting at the
wait.
A knock came at her door and Adalia stood up to open it, finding
Legolas
there. He smiled and stepped inside. “You look exquisite,” he
commented.
“Exquisite?” repeated Adalia, wondering if he was serious. “Can’t say
I’ve been called that before. Can we go now? I swear I’m going to
starve if I’m locked in here much longer.”
Legolas laughed and held out his arm for her to take. They started
off
down the hall, the smells of dinner becoming more prominent. “Why are
we
so formal tonight?”
He shrugged. “You shall see.”
Adalia growled in annoyance. “I better see soon or there is going to
be
one less elf to be had in Mirkwood.” He feigned horror as they paused
outside the ornate oak doors. He pushed them open and Adalia stopped
dead in her tracks.
The hall looked no different, save the fact that there were more
candles
lit than normal. But a beautiful cloth was draped over her chair and
in
front of her place was the last thing she expected to see: a birthday
cake. It was a plain chocolate cake with a single candle in the
middle.
Adalia turned to him, speechless. “You did this?” He smiled and
nodded. She wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the shooting
pains up her arm. “I can’t believe that you would do something so
sweet.”
Legolas’ arms went around her waist without a thought. If they hadn’t
felt the eyes of those present on them, the two might have held each
other longer than a few seconds. But Adalia could feel her face
burning
as she diverted her eyes from the ethereal blue of the elf’s.
The night passed rather quickly, the time spent among those she would
call her friends. She couldn’t help but laugh when they insisted that
she blow out the candle. She obliged, though she almost couldn’t stop
laughing the rest of the night.
When things had started to die down and the night had long since come,
Adalia stood up and excused herself. She had nearly been falling
asleep
during one of Gimli’s tales, though she did not mean to. She had no
doubt that she had drunk too much and it was effecting her.
Adalia stumbled into her room and crashed onto her bed less than
gracefully. With a withering thought, she realized her head was going
to
pound in the morning. She quickly dropped off to sleep, thinking of
nothing else.
---
Adalia groaned as she eventually woke up. Her head throbbed, her arm
ached, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up meeting last
night’s
dinner. She was in pain, plain and simple.
“Drink this,” commanded a soft voice. A goblet touched her lips and
the
liquid burned as it went down her throat. She coughed as the cup was
brought away and cracked open her eyes.
“What was that?” she asked Legolas, her voice hoarse.
“The herbs for your arm as well as some others,” he answered, setting
the goblet on the dresser. “It is time for you to get up.”
Adalia laughed and instantly regretted the action, bringing her hand
to
her head. That was not a smart thing to do. “You’ve obviously never
had
a hangover before. This is why I’m not much of a drinker, too
painful.”
He leaned against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest. “You
should then be more responsible lindor.”
Adalia both growled and glared at the elf before pulling the covers
over
her head. “Legolas es un asno,” she muttered, her voice muffled.
Legolas sighed and pushed away from the dresser. He tore the covers
off
of her. “Trust me lindor, you will feel better once you move around.”
He literally pulled her out of bed, standing her on her feet despite
her
protests. He pulled his hands away from her waist and Adalia swayed
uncertainly. She reached out to steady herself but realized too late
that she used her broken left arm to do so.
A yelp of pain left her as she fell back on the bed. Tears stung her
eyes as she clutched her arm to her. Legolas sat on the bed beside her
and gently pried her arm away, holding it within his hands. Adalia
felt
that, as he muttered some elvish words, the pain lessened.
“What did you just do?” she asked through her tears, turning to face
him.
“My people are great healers,” he replied, smiling gracefully. “I am
not as skilled in the healing arts as others, but I know enough.” He
raised his eyes up to hers, not sure what he would find in their gray
depths. He was not sure what he saw there, held within those two
circles
of light; a mixture of pain, joy, worry, and maybe even love.
Adalia in turn knew his eyes were searching hers. She could not read
his expressions, as much as she tried. Neither was truly sure what
they
were looking for. Whether they found it or not remained to be seen as
the two leaned toward each other, joining in a kiss.
Both mortal and immortal were pulled toward the other. Yet after only
a
few seconds, they pulled away. Their eyes met again, trying to catch
the
other’s reaction. While Adalia was simply confused, Legolas was
wondering what he had just done. And both wondered what they had felt.
Legolas stood up, unsure of what to do. “I must go to council,” he
forced out, moving toward the door. Adalia watched as he left the
room.
She sighed and went to draw a bath, hoping to forget everything. But
she
didn’t plan on the feel of his lips lasting long afterwards.
---
Legolas nearly stalked down the hallway, his mind filled with haze.
He
didn’t know what had happened in Adalia’s room, what had possessed him
to
kiss her. Adalia made him feel different. Neither mortal, nor
immortal
had ever had such an effect on him. He was scared about what it meant.
The elf heard voices in one of the rooms he passed and stopped. He
needed to talk to someone and he knew who it should be. He turned and
walked into the room on his right without pausing.
Arwen dismissed her advisors and smiled when she saw him. “Legolas.
How are you?”
He wished there was a simple answer to the question. “I am confused
at
best.”
Her blue eyes flashed with knowing. “About this human you have
brought
with you, no?” His eyes fell to the floor and Arwen smiled. “Walk
with
me Legolas.”
They left the palace and went through the garden, the only sound that
of
the rustling of the plants. “I am confused Arwen,” began Legolas
sighing. “She is neither as fair as some of those presented to me, nor
as graceful. But she makes me feel…” he trailed off and growled in
frustration. “An explanation is not an easy thing to come by.”
The she-elf smiled in understanding. “It was the same when I fell in
love with Aragorn. It is so rare for us to love a mortal that when it
happens, it is more than strange.”
Legolas nodded. "I am lost as to what to do. She will grow old and I
shall not. To love her is to set myself up for pain.”
“You may not consciously make the decision to love, but your heart has
made the decision for you. You need to listen to yourself Legolas.
You
speak of love with a human you have known but a few weeks. You also
forget that sometimes to love is to experience pain, no matter what the
circumstances.”
The elven prince nodded. “I just do not know what to do. I could not
give up my immortality as you have, I do not have that option.” He
sighed and sat on one of the many benches. “It seems I only
complicated
things when I kissed her.”
Arwen tried not to show her astonishment. “Legolas, you know above
all
else that you should follow your heart. There is a reason for each
event, though it may be hidden. I do not know what else to tell you.”
He nodded and grasped her hand momentarily. “Thank you Arwen. You
may
not think you have helped me, but you have.”
She smiled. “I am glad. I am always here to help you, friend.” She
kissed his hand and then withdrew back to the palace. Legolas sat in
silence for a time, turning everything over in his mind. He was a very
decisive person. This situation put him in a position where some
things
were out of his control, something he was not fond of.
Standing up, he walked deeper into the gardens, finding peace among
the
trees.
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