LEGOLAS

As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew I was inside a chamber I have not grown to know. With a flash, I sit up tight, gathering my conscious, thinking how I got into this place.

I looked around and realized I was in a room - room full of objects and gadgets I do not have a name to. It was well lit, a light hung above me, walls painted white. Numerous paintings hung on the wall, some are just colors swirling together, others photos of two young children. In front of me stood a black frame right on top of an oak table. I can see my own reflection, my face a mask of confusion and fear. I am in trouble - I know that. But as always has been the case, I have to find a way. I have to go home.

"You're awake," A soft voice had said, and once again, I came face to face to the young girl who had helped me. I turned to her direction, and I suddenly had the chance to study her under the bright light.

She has the same blonde hair as mine. Long, it reaches just above her waist, and silky, following every move she makes. I watch as she tilts her head, waiting for an answer. Her eyes - I realized it was deep shade of blue - warmer, softer than it was before. It held a thought - as if she was questioning me of my existence - and yet I do not feel a slight intimidation watching them. It was too reassuring, too comforting. My eyes landed to the angles of her face that held less corners but more curves. Her lips, a light tint of fuchsia, turns into a smile, dimples showing. She looks young, and yet I felt I have known her longer. She resembled so much of someone I used to know, and yet no name was placed on that face.

To my surprise, the young human girl held out a hand, her fingers pointed at me. "Hi. I'm Nina. You saved my life, and I guess I just saved yours."

I stood up from my seat and faced her. Why is she giving me a hand? In return, I have decided to greet her in my own culture. I struck a fist on my chest and bowed. "Legolas Thranduillion. I am grateful for the help, young one. I do not know how to show my sincerest gratitude however, so please, feel free to express what service I can give you."

She slowly pulled back her hand, a flash of disappointment painted on her face, but before I could apologize, it changed into enthusiasm. "You can join us for dinner, perhaps?" She walked to my side, and I saw her strange garments. She seems to be wearing a blue shirt depicting a white horse with wings, a gold horn right above its face. Her purple trousers were loose, numerous leaping white rabbits on them. She wore a pair of comfortable sandals, pink cotton covering her toes. By the Valar! What dimension is this? I have never seen this kind of clothing in my whole elven life!

Her cheeks turned bright pink when she saw me looking at her eccentric choice of clothing. "Sorry I had to change into my pajamas..."

"No no no! I apologize. It was rude of me to judge." And I really am. Nina had done nothing but helped me recover (or at least  led me to a place I can rest). The least I can do is to ease her worries.

With that being said, she happily pulled me to another room - a kitchen? It was smaller than the other and packed with smaller oak doors hanging above the ceiling. Counter tops filled three walls and there, his back behind us, stood another mortal. He towered both of us, Nina and I. The girl pulled me to the high table located in the middle and tapped at the high chair, asking me to sit. I obeyed while Nina talked to the man - her father, I presume?

"Dad, Legolas is awake," she said, her voice resounding the small space, the mention of my name a bit strange on her tongue.

"Yeah, yeah I just need to finish serving this - all right, here." I sat straighter as the man turns to us, holding out a bowl on his right hand and plates on the other. My gaze went straight to his face that was still caught up with the shadow of the night. Slowly, as he moves nearer to the light, I saw his face.

I didn't recognized him at first. His eyes were far drifted away from me, focused on the number of porcelain wares he was holding on his hands. His eyes gave a knowing glance to his daughter, a look I have seen countless times. It was full of love and care. Then, with one simple glance at me, into my own eyes, I felt a hitch on my throat and everything caught me off guard.

I would recognize his eyes anywhere. It had looked right through me far too much, even after the coldness in them had seeped deep into his bones when my mother died. They used to carry warmth, those eyes who'd I'd look at before he tucks me into bed, when he tells me tales of bravery and heroism, when he trains me to fight, urging me to step up and give my best. I would recognize him anywhere, even if the man right in front of me who carries his face has way shorter hair unlike his,  kinder smile than his, or humbler robe than his. He is my father, after all. I would not have this much courage and power if it wasn't for his undying love and guidance.

The man before me looked at me with a knowing smile, a trait quite similar to that of his daughter, Nina. I wonder if Ada and I share the same?

He carefully dropped the porcelain wares on his hand on the table and just like Nina, held out a hand. "We're glad that you joined us. I'm Tristan, Nina's father." He said, a kind smile dancing on his face. Perhaps, it was deep gratitude that he was feeling, for I may have saved his daughter's life. Will Ada feel the same for these mortals, if he had known the kindness they had shown me for the past few moments?

"Ada," I breathed before I could even stop myself.

Tristan - he might've held the same face as my father, but I believe they are not the same. I know I must not be blinded by the mysteries of this place, but I still felt a pang of misery, longing for my home back in Mirkwood, back into the presence of my father. So what I did, I mentally pointed out the differences that lies between Tristan and the great Elven King Thranduil.

They may have shared the same shade of hair, but Tristan's is short - really short, as it just reaches the nape of his neck. A kind of cut I have not seen in Mirkwood for all have long ones. The absence of his branched crown was also a point I must keep in mind; Tristan is not a king like my father, nor did he wear fancy golden robes and velvet tunics, but a simple ones like what he is wearing now. And truth be told, the man before me has a beard growing, clearly it had been cut off by a sharp object. One thing we lack as elves.

I noticed Tristan has pulled his hand back, worry crawling into his face. He looked at me and Nina with those blue eyes.

"Legolas, are you okay?" I heard the young girl ask.

I nodded slowly, my eyes turning to her. "Yes, I apologize," then turned to the mortal before me who had already seated, leveling with us. "I apologize, Tristan, but you remind me of someone, that is all." I felt my throat dry, and I took a gulp from the glass right in front of me.

"Who does he remind you of?" Nina urged, curiosity in her tone.

"My own father," I said, "he looks exactly like you, apart from your hair."

They thought I did not notice it but they shared a look, as if this was something they should know more of.

"Oh. What's his name?" Tristan asked, "and where are you from?"

"My father - Thranduil - is the mighty king of the Woodland Realm. Greenwood, it was, but now known as Mirkwood."

This seems to put the two on edge, glancing at each other far too much. Have I said something that might've upset them?

"What is the matter? Have you heard of the place?"

Nina cleared her throat. "Well, Legolas, this is Mirkwood. You're standing right at it-"

"That is not true. I know of Mirkwood. The Royal Guard would've seen me coming and they would have come to welcome back. And besides, Middle Earth is far too... traditional than this dimension." I shivered as I remember the flying fortresses that I have seen, the moving pictures on the street.

Tristan cleared his throat. (Do they have sore throats?) "You know what, let's talk about this later. Let's eat first, the food's gone cold."

Nina and I agreed. We ate in silence. Since I was merely accepting this act of kindness by this small family, I might as well eat these big chunks of meat and set aside my elven culture for awhile.

After supper, Nina had led me into a room upstairs - where she provided me a change of clothes, similar to that of her father's. She directed me to the showers, showing me the little wheel that controls the flow of the lukewarm water. Then, afterwards, left me to have a time of my own.

After showering, I proceeded to return downstairs only to find the two arguing. I did not mean to eavesdrop, but the mention of my name had heightened my senses and made me listen to the hushed quarrel between the two mortals. Let's just say the words "crazy" and "untrustworthy" were involved.

For awhile I stayed seated at one step of the stairs, waiting for the two to finish. I thought of ways I could find my way back home, and it dawned me how much little information I have of this place and before I knew it, the chances of me finding a way back is slimmer than it was before. How I wish I was with someone when I entered this realm. At least I could have someone to remind me that hope is still evident and proven. Still, I do not wish for any of my kind, or anyone from Middle earth for that matter, experience this trial I am facing.

"Legolas?" the young girl saw me, and I stood up quick and offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry you had to hear that. My father's quite unreasonable sometimes." she apologized, sitting on a step beneath mine. "I'm curious. Could you tell me more about Mirkwood?" She propped up an arm on her knee and placed her chin on it.

"Well," I started, "it may be hard to believe, but my world is not this world. I live in a completely different place- to be honest I do not know if I had travelled through time or the portal I have stepped on brought me to a realm beyond the stars. But I do know this - my kind is not yours. In my Middle Earth, mortals are just a parcel of its inhabitants. Dwarves, elves, hobbits, wizards, even orcs - horrid creatures - roam Middle Earth. My people, the Elves, we are blessed with immortality. My father rule the elves in the Woodland Realm.

"I must say, my world is a world of magic. Often times we do not have words and explanations for certain occurrences. Power rule over Middle Earth, and not long ago dark power tried to cloak it but fortunately, we had destroyed it."

"Hmpt," Nina grumbled, "No magic for us here. My people try to explain everything, it's ridiculous."

I laughed. " I think it's a good choice. Experiences hold the greatest wisdom."

She nodded, and suddenly lowered her gaze. "It sounds like your home is quite a place. I hope I get to see it."

"I'd take you there, now that it is in peace," I assured her, "but first I must find a way home, one where I can guarantee a safe travel. And then that's when you can come visit."

She grinned, overjoyed of my little promise. I do not know why, but I somewhat felt protective of the child. I am drawn to her, and despite of the trial that I am in, once I glance at her face, all I could feel is warmth. Funny, since I just met her.

"Well then, while you find for answers, you might as well stay with us. My dad wouldn't mind."

There it is. Too much kindness, too much concern. I am a stranger, and a strange one at that, wearing strange clothes and acting strange, introducing a strange realm, and yet, it's as if we have known each other for a very long time. Strange.

Who was I to say no? Nina had proven to be a trustworthy person, unlike me. And watching this nice girl with the brightest smile, and hearing the thudding footsteps of her father who looks awfully like mine, my stay here is not yet proven to be a mistake.

Not yet.
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sorry for the late update xxx
thoughts on how the story is going? your suggestions are very much appreciated.
and oh, i just bought my own copy of the books yessss

~ christel ✨