Out of Reality: Part XII
by Alexandra
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“Did you see what I meant when I asked for you to come?” asked Aragorn,
watching Legolas pull a fresh tunic over his head.
The elf nodded and turned his eyes to him. “In the space of a day I
have wished for those years back more times than I can count. She looked
so different from when I first met her. The fire in her eyes had seemed
to go out.”
“I think that is changing though, yes?” questioned the king, smiling.
Legolas chuckled. “Yes, that is changing.” He smoothed out the
wrinkles in the material and looked in the mirror, growing solemn.
“Arwen had told me years ago that sometimes to love is to experience
pain. I will have such pain when Adalia passes away, but I think that
the time we will spend together will be worth it.”
Aragorn smiled. “You cannot have love without pain at one point. It is
a lesson learned in time. But come, it is time for the meal. And Adalia
will be there, she has not been at a feast for many weeks.”
Legolas looked up sharply at this and nodded. “She is coming tonight.
She is coming.”
The feast wore on long into the night. Though many people were there,
both Legolas and Adalia tended to stay back, speaking with each other.
Those that saw the two would simply smile and go to find something else
to occupy themselves.
When the moon was high up in the sky, Legolas took Adalia’s hand and led
her into the gardens. “It is a beautiful night,” he commented, breathing
in the cool air.
“It’s one of the things I love about this place,” said Adalia. “Where I
live in my world, you can’t see the stars. There is too much light from
the city. This though, is beautiful.”
“You still refer to it as your world,” he pointed out, turning her to
face him. “Do you not consider Middle-Earth to be your world now?”
Adalia sighed. “Legolas, I can live here until I die, but I will never
forget what I left behind. I know I found more than I could ever hope
for here, but that doesn’t erase my memories.”
He nodded. “Well, you may still have many memories of your old home.
But now we will have to make more memories of your new home.”
Adalia laughed at his smile. “I’d like that. Though for now, I just
want to stay out here under the stars.” The two leaned against one of
the walls, staring up at the sky.
Legolas looked over at her, knowing that it was right for him to be
there. He reached over and trailed his fingers along her cheek, drawing
her attention to him. He smiled and said, “Lle naa vanima. Lle naa elen
yassene huine. Lle naa arwenamin, a’maelamin, melamin.”
Adalia stared at him before smiling. “You are going to have to teach me
how to speak that. It sounds like such a beautiful language. But what
did you say?”
“I said you are beautiful. That you are a star within darkness. That
you are my lady, my beloved, and my love.”
Adalia blushed furiously. “You really know how to sweep a girl off her
feet don’t you?”
Legolas shrugged. “I only do so when she has stolen my heart.”
Adalia elbowed him playfully. “I’m going to melt into the ground if you
keep saying things like that.”
Legolas smiled tenderly. “We know I wouldn’t want that.” She returned
his smile and rested her head on his shoulder, gazing at the stars.
The years passed by in which their love grew. Their love held strong
through many trials, though it remained to be seen if it could hold
through death and separation. Adalia was nearing the age of eighty and
her strength was waning.
Legolas sat propped against the headboard of the bed, reading a book
written in elvish. Adalia sat in front of the mirror running a brush
through her silver hair. She set the brush down with trembling fingers
and sighed.
She turned and watched Legolas for a moment. He was still as beautiful
as that first time she had met him. He remained perfect, as she grew old
and gray. “Legolas, we have to talk.”
He put the book down and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “What is
it?”
“I wish to make one last journey to Mirkwood.”
“What do you mean one last journey? You will be here for many more
years by my side lindor.”
Adalia shook her head slowly. “No I won’t luchador. You know as well
as I do that each day I grow weaker. I do not have much time left. I
want to see the forest of Mirkwood again.”
Legolas’ clear blue eyes were filled with sadness, but he nodded. “Then
we shall go to Mirkwood.”
Legolas’ eyes filled with concern as he watched Adalia wearily lean
against a tree. She had grown still weaker during the journey. It was
obvious to him that she would pass away soon, something that brought fear
to his heart.
Adalia looked around at the clearing they rested in, a short ways from
the house of Thranduil. Recognition dawned within her as her eyes
widened. “Do you know where we are?”
A small smile played across the elf’s lips. “Indeed. I believe this is
the cursed place that brought you here.”
“Nothing could be cursed if it brought me to you,” she replied,
beginning to walk around the trees. She paused in front of one beech
tree in particular; knowing it was the one that brought her here. She
reached out a hand to touch it but hesitated. Pushing away her doubts,
she pressed her hand to the rough bark.
All at once Adalia felt like she was falling, much like on that fateful
day years ago. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
Legolas watched in horror as the one he loved disappeared before his
eyes. He reached out, somehow hoping to catch her, but his fingers
grasped air. For a long moment he sat frozen, paralyzed with indecision.
He took a step toward the tree but his common sense told him to stop.
She had come from that world, she would be fine. With tears in his eyes
he turned and ran to the horses. He would find out what he could about
that tree before following her.
A broken sob escaped his lips as he urged his horse into a gallop,
mourning for Adalia who was no more.
Adalia reached out to try and grab something, anything. But either she
couldn’t move or her limbs were numb. She still had the sensation of
falling away from the reality she had made her home in.
Somehow, Adalia managed to land on her feet on the soft ground. Looking
around her, she saw herself surrounded by trees and darkness, for it was
obviously night.
Some leaves rustled behind her and she turned, wishing she had her bow
and quiver with her. A stout woman stepped out of the foliage, holding
something made of leather in her hand.
“Miss, you dropped this back there,” she said, holding out the object.
Adalia stared at the woman for a moment. Her whole life in Middle-Earth
has been a result of dropping her wallet. No one had been stalking her,
or getting ready to rob her. The woman was simply going to return
something that was hers. She reached out and grasped it, noticing her
fingers did not tremble. “Doila lle,” she said. When the woman looked
at her curiously, she quickly said, “Thank you.”
The woman nodded and left. Adalia sunk to the ground and opened her
wallet, looking into the small mirror. With a small start, she realized
that she looked as she had years ago. Her hair was brown once again, the
crow’s feet that used to be at her eyes had disappeared. It was as if
she had never left.
The difference was that she had none of the things that she had
initially left with. She was also still dressed in the green and brown
tunic and leggings of Mirkwood. Adalia sighed. All her time in
Middle-Earth she had wished she were back home. Now all she wanted was
to go back to what her home had become, back to Legolas.
Adalia climbed to her feet and paused, trying to remember the way back
to her building. Her keys were in the other world as well as some things
of importance like her cell phone. She would have to let the landlord
let her in. She set off at a light jog, keeping to the shadows so few
saw her. As she ran, Adalia couldn’t stop the few tears that trailed
down her cheek, mourning for what she left behind.
| Part XIII |
| Index |