#amnesia is shitting yourself or starving yourself because you forget how to tell when your body needs things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andrea-lyn · 4 years

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kylex (or malex, if you prefer) + amnesia, w/ happy ending please, for the prompts :)

“Shit, is he breathing?”“Alex, calm down, he’s fine.”“He was knocked out by a blue powder and went unconscious! Don’t tell me he’s fine!”“Alex.”“Isobel.”He grimaces as he opens his eyes, head pounding. Above him, there’s a beautifulwoman with blonde hair looming above him, but nearer is a man cupping his cheekaggressively, his other hand on his hip. Coughing, blue powder falls over hislip, which is what they were talking about. He’s guessing that the guy is Alex,the woman is Isobel.“Kyle,” Alex breathes out. “Thank god.”And he’s Kyle.At least the pieces are coming together to a small degree. He rubs the back ofhis head, but there’s no bump. There’s a lot more of that blue powder on hiscollar, so he sits up and tries to get it off him, sneezing again (which makeshis head ache), so whatever the hell happened to him, it’s because of that. Hedoesn’t get far before Alex’s hand strokes his neck, and Kyle starts to put thepieces together.He’s been knocked out. Something is worrying both Alex and Isobel.Also, he’s pretty damn sure that Alex is his boyfriend.

There’s a fluttery feeling in his stomach when he looks at him, and Kyle’spretty sure that most people aren’t that intimately close to one another,especially not with the way Alex is bearing down on him with that kind ofconcern. He decides to roll with it, because it’s easier that way. “Hey,” Kylemurmurs, and reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together. “Babe, it’sokay.”There’s a cavernous silence that fills the space between them.“Okay,” says Isobel. “Maybe he’s not fine.”“You think?” Alex sounds choked with stress, gaping at him. “Kyle, are youokay? You went down hard when you breathed that powder in. Are you sure you’renot feeling funny?”He figures he ought to be honest. “I kind of don’t remember anything. That’s aweird thing, right?”“Amnesia,” Isobel snorts. “Well, that explains half of it.”Kyle looks between them, not sure what’s making them look so confused, but hekeeps his fingers on Alex’s hand, especially when he tries to move them away.He sits up, slowly, and grimaces as his head pounds. There’s no lump, though,so whatever it is that knocked him out and took his memory isn’t physical.“What’s this blue stuff all over me?” he asks, and brushes it off, lifting uphis shirt to dispel it, and catching a glimpse of his abs.He blinks, guessing that maybe Alex likes to run his fingers all over them,which would be a pretty good reason as to why they look like that. He sees Alexstaring at them, too, and can’t help a tentatively proud little smile. “Pretty good, huh?”Alex makes a rough noise that doesn’t really have much sense to it, and whoeverIsobel is, she’s smirking. “Come on, let’s get you back to the geniuses so they can figure out whathappened to you. Alex,” she says, “Get your boyfriend.”“Fuck off Isobel,” is Alex’s bored response, not too much heat in the words. Hebends down to help Kyle to his feet, tangling their hands together. As he does,he’s giving Kyle a confused look, like there’s something about him that hedoesn’t understand, but Kyle’s just happy that whatever happened to him, he’sgot his boyfriend with him.The rest, they can figure out. They take him to a diner where two women are waiting for him (Maria and Liz, asthey’re introduced to him), and there’s another man with curls, but he takes alook at the way Kyle’s hand is tangled up in Alex’s, grabs the vial of powderand stomps off.“…is he okay?”Alex shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, it’s old news,” he vows. “It’sover.”It looks like Kyle doesn’t remember a lot of things, including Alex’sex-boyfriends, but seeing as Alex hasn’t stopped stroking his thumb over theback of Kyle’s palm, he’s feeling pretty secure, even if he doesn’t know a lotof things – how they got together, their first kiss, their first fuck, whatAlex’s last name is.He’s so busy thinking about that, he almost doesn’t hear when Liz says, “…probablyanother flower, like the one Maria uses in her pendant against aliens.”“Hold up. Aliens?”There’s a lot of guilty expressions around him, and Kyle suddenly wonders whatthe hell his life is, if aliens is a potential reason as to why he doesn’thave his memories.He waves a hand, deciding that he’s going to spend his time thinking about hisboyfriend and they can solve this for him. “Whatever,” he says, and tries notto freak out about the fact that somehow aliens could be responsible for…whateverhappened to him (which is still being hotly debated). The rest of them go back to their research, but Alex sticks with him. He’shovering, which is almost annoying, but Kyle prefers it to being left on hisown. He’s not sure he can take too much time thinking about the fact that hedoesn’t actually know anything about himself.“You okay?” Alex asks him, so Kyle’s worrying must be getting loud. “You havethat … furrow,” he explains, gesturing to his forehead.“I don’t even know my last name,” Kyle says. “I don’t know how we got together,or what I call you, or…anything,” he says, and he’s not sure why he’s fixatingon the relationship part of his lack of memories, but maybe it’s because Alexis right there and he looks so concerned.He also looks vaguely guilty and uncomfortable. Is something going wrong between them? Maybe the relationship isn’t so good?“We’ll figure this out, okay?” Alex insists. “And then you’ll have all yourmemories back and you’ll remember exactly how your life is supposed to be.”Weird how he doesn’t sound happy about that.It takes them two long days to figure out how to clear Kyle’s system. Itinvolves a lot of herbs, a lot of breathing them in, and some puking that he’drather not talk about, but eventually all the powder he’d ingested gets out ofhis system, and with it comes back his memories. They seem to inch their wayback in, almost like they’re taking their time. With it comes the epiphany that he’s definitely made an ass of himself for thelast few days, and that he owes Alex a lot of apologies.When he meets everyone at the Crashdown, he notices that Michael’s missing, butgiven how they were acting in front of him, he’s not surprised. Alex has beenpretty vocal about the fact that Michael has moved on, but given that they’renot on steady ground at the best of times, it would’ve been weird for him tosee Kyle and Alex playing at being boyfriends.“Hey,” Alex says, approaching him before he greets the others. “How are youdoing?”“Other than being starved? Fine,” he promises, and heads over to the booth,where Alex settles in beside him, draping his arm around his shoulders to makeroom for Isobel in the booth beside him. “What the hell was that powder for?”“Something to make an alien forget they’re an alien, we think,” Liz shares.“Michael’s still running tests, but where the yellow powder appears toneutralize their powers, this is made from the flower itself and not thepollen. It seems to strip away your awareness of yourself, rendering youclueless about who you are and what you might be able to do.”In Kyle’s case, it just made him think he had a boyfriend suddenly while itstripped away all the rest of his memories. “Okay, so the blue powder is what made him forget,” Alex says, his hand restingat Kyle’s back. “What about the rest of it?”Maria and Liz give him a curious look.“What rest of it?” Kyle asks him.“You, thinking that you’re in love with me,” Alex says. “You just assumed thatI was your boyfriend, I figured there was a pink powder or orange or somethingthat would’ve made you think that you…” His cheeks are pink, which is adorable,given how Kyle is smiling at him, slow and sweet. Now that he has his memory back, it’s almost embarrassing that he’s going tohave to admit to this out loud and in front of witnesses, but Maria and Liz cantease him about this for the rest of his life. It’s better now that it’s in the open.“I kind of really leaned hard into being an asshole when I grew a single chesthair mainly because I jerked off to fantasies of you a lot,” Kyleadmits. “And I think once, your Dad caught me staring at you, and we had a talkthat really freaked me out. I’m not saying anything I did should be excused,I’m just saying that I didn’t need to get dosed by pink powder to want you,Alex.”He’s grinning, because Alex is looking even more flustered than before, hischeeks furiously red.“I’ve wanted you since the first time I thought about your lips all over that singlechest hair of mine.”Alex gapes at him, clearly not knowing what to do with this information. “You know, I was wondering why I couldn’t remember our first kiss or the firstdate,” Kyle admits, “I guess it’s for the best I didn’t make it up, becauseknowing they’re still ahead of me is a really great memory to come back to,” headmits. When Alex doesn’t seem to understand what he’s getting at, Kyle decides heneeds to get back to the basics. “I know you’re not my boyfriend,” he assures him, in case Alex is stillpanicking about that. “…do you wanna be? Dinner, maybe, on Friday? And then youcan decide if you still want to be with me, even when I’m not myblue-powdered-self.”“Dinner,” Alex echoes.Kyle squints at him, trying to interpret that. “Is that an agreement or aquestion?”He can feel the way Maria, Isobel, and Liz are leaning forward, all desperateto hear the answer, but Alex’s flustered adorable reaction is the only one Kyleis fixed on. “Dinner,” Alex echoes, but this time, it’s a lot more certain.“Six o’clock. Don’t be late, you don’t have any blue powder to blame it on thistime.”“Done,” Kyle promises, and feels great, because even if he lost hismemory, it looks like he found something incredible on the other end of it.It’s the chance to be with Alex the way he’d thrown away when he was younger,and for that, he’ll willingly ingest all kinds of weird alien powders just tomake that happen.

#kylex #past malex #jealous michael #idiotic kyle #worried alex #roswell new mexico #bday prompts #amnesia #likebadgal-riri

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theartofbeinganeldar · 4 years

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The Art of Being An Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 3

Summary: You, a fantasy-loving LARPing human from Earth, got dropped into a fantasy land that seems familiar to you, but you had no recollection of it. Lord Fabulous Elvenking gave you three days to find the portal that would take you home with the aide of Blue-Eyes and a host of Elves, but what you found instead was the portal was closed for another thousand years. On the way back, you saved Legolas's life, prompting Thranduil to grant you freedom, and after, you finally realized where you were; Middle-Earth. Thranduil summons the council, which is made up of powerful wizards and Elves, to decide what should be done with you...

Chapter No.: Chapter 3

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: I think Pippin's song matches the reader's situation very much, which is why I use it so often. I mean, your character fell from everything they know, their "home," and now they can't go back, but now they have this whole magical world and life ahead of them... Grief and sorrow, but things to look forward to in the future.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, The fucking Silmarillion, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused, Denethor's a bitch as always, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Wormtongue Grima Wormtongue, Boromir lives, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me.)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

When you woke up, you found yourself blinded by a stupidly bright light that singed your retinas off. "What the hell?" You shielded your eyes as you tried to find the source.

Oh.

It was Thranduil, and beside him, Legolas, the two so bright they could be hung on your porch as bug-zappers.

Ohhhh...

You were in Middle-Earth. Right. Without any memory of it except for bits and pieces. You did remember that you'd watched the movies so many times that you could've recited each line in your sleep and then some, but you couldn't remember anything but what pieces you randomly dreamed of or remembered, which were already starting to fade.

"Hi. Can I help you with something in my half-starved state?"

Blue-Eyes desperately fought a smirk. Thranduil was less impressed. "My son tells me you lost consciousness because of a lack of sustenance. What sort of repayment is that for my favor to you, may I ask?"

You cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse the fuck outta you, Thrandy, but I just learned about a week and a half ago I'd never see my family again. Forgive me if I got upset."

Blue-Eyes turned his head away, trying really hard not to laugh...

"Also," You went on with a forced cocky smile, "I just learned that I'm in Middle-Earth. Where I come from, all this-- the palace, the land, even your fancy Elven toilets-- were created by some old guy called J. R. R. Tolkien, collectively referred to as 'Jrrt.' Now, I don't remember a goddamn thing except for bits and pieces of dialogue and song, even though I knew the stories by heart."

Thranduil and Blue-Eyes-- who was no longer trying not to laugh-- eyed each other suspiciously. "You knew of this place in your world?"

You nodded. "It's very well-known. But, everybody thinks it's fiction. Unaccesible. And be glad about that, too, because if there were a well-known way to get here, there'd be lots of war, new diseases, and this place would be turned to shit, too."

Thranduil stared at you for a minute, before abruptly turning to Legolas. "Son, I am off to the throne room. I shall summon the council at once."

You waited until he left to ask what that meant.

Blue-Eyes smiled slightly. "Meaning, he is not quite certain what should be done with you. The council is made up of some of the oldest and wisest of Middle-Earth, including the wizards and those of my kin, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien, and Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell. Do any of those names sound familiar to you?"

You shrugged. "It doesn't matter if they sound familiar or not. I never remember what anybody looks like. I just get an eerie sense of deja vu."

Blue-Eyes raised an eyebrow. "Deja... Vu?"

You sat up more, rolling your eyes. "It means having a sense of familiarity, like, really strongly. Whatever. Tell me who the wizards are."

Blue-Eyes sat at the end of your bed. "The most powerful of the wizards is Saruman the White, who resides in Isengard, on the edge of Fangorn Forest and the Gap of Rohan. The second is Mithrandir, who is most commonly known as Gandalf the Gray by most folk. The third is the much less-known-of and reclusive Radagast the Brown, but I doubt my father will request his presence; he dislikes his excessive behavior." He raised an eyebrow. "Have you heard of them?"

You nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah. So if I'm an Elf, do I like, have to learn how to act like an Elf, or should you let these really important people decide what to do after they've seen who I am?"

"The latter," Blue-Eyes specified, "But it would still be beneficial to learn Elvish. It should take them quite awhile to arrive; between now and then, you should learn as much of it as possible, after I've given you a tour of Mirkwood."

You made a wheel-like motion with your hands. "After I've eaten and taken a bath, I know."

Blue-Eyes patted your leg. A jolt of electricity shot from where he touched you. What the hell? "Good," He stood and started to leave the room. "I will leave you to your own; there is food on the nightstand, and after, a bath across the bridge there," He pointed, and as you looked across the way seen Elves.

Bathing.

Blushing, you looked to Blue-Eyes wildly. "I-I'm supposed to take a bath with other people."

Blue-Eyes frowned in confusion. "Do you not, from your world?"

"Um, no. We all bathe alone. Where I come from, one's own body is considered... Private, to everybody except your doctor or significant other."

"Oh, I see. I could have a private bath prepared for you, if you wish for it," He answered with a smile. "Even here, we may want to bathe on our own to relax. It would not be a problem." He sneered down at you. "I would not want you bathing in the shared springs anyway. You'd dirty the whole lot of them."

With a very childish glare, you stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to have the oddest look he'd had yet. You'd noticed something about him; he had the unique ability to create a range of dynamically comical expressions. "What are you doing?"

You took up a dramatically serious tone. "I am expressing the 'fuck you' gesture in an immature and childish manner used worldwide, even among the youngest." With that, you stuck your tongue out again.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Very well, then, Sairen, your bath will be ready for you when you are finished with your meal. I will send someone for you in an hour, if that suits you."

"That suits me perfectly fine, but I beg your fucking pardon, was that 'fuck you' in Elvish?"

Legolas grinned. "Not at all, mellon. It means 'fiery' in our tongue."

"Okay." A wry smile spread across your face. "That I can deal with. But what does 'melon' mean? Both you and Tauriel have called me that so far."

Legolas smiled as he began to close the double-doors, though what they did to block you when the room had only two-foot tall walls, you had no idea. "Mellon. It means, 'my friend.'"

A warm feeling blossomed in your chest as he smiled-- for once, genuinely-- at you. You found yourself smiling back as he closed your doors. When he was gone, your smile toned down a bit, and you took a long, deep breath.

You were still upset. Very. On the inside, you felt torn to pieces. You figured it would be a long, long time before you grief lessened, if it ever did. But now that you knew where you were... It was different. You were sure of something. Where you were, and the fact that the Firemoon Portal would only open every thousand years. If you went back then, you'd already be connected to this world, and everyone in it. If time passed the same, your family would be gone, and you'd be mortal again, without a way to wait for the portal to reopen so that you could return to your new friends here.

But... You knew your family. They'd never forget you, and never stop grieving your loss. But, if they thought you might be somewhere better than Earth, and there was no way back... They'd want you to be happy. They'd want you to make a new life. They wouldn't want you to waste your life starving yourself.

You'd miss them... More than anything...

But for now...

You moved the silver platter on your nightstand to your lap, and started eating.

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

And there are many paths to tread...

***

"No, no," Tauriel corrected you. "Mae govannen."

"Mae govAHnnen."

Tauriel bit back an exasperated sigh. "Well... You're close enough."

You'd been in Mirkwood for nearly a month now, not counting the days of your imprisonment and searching for the portal. You wondered what made Thranduil (Who you still called 'Lord Fabulous' on occassion.) release you and treat you as an Elf, and as it turns out, it was Blue-Eyes himself.

Speaking of, you hadn't seen him in days... He kind of... Disappeared. There was still talk of him, and no one seemed to be worried, so you weren't; for Elves that lived forever, you bet anything that he had princely exploring and regular adventuring to do to keep him occupied.

Around the time he left, Tauriel approached you and asked if you knew any Elvish. Aside from sairen and mellon, you knew less than zero. Apparently, it was considered good Elven manners to at least speak a greeting to guests in their own language, despite what Leggy had said. Meaning, to different members of the council, you had to speak a greeting in Quenyan-- which was different from Sindarin, the most common Elvish language-- Common, and Sindarin. You'd memorized the lines, but it was the pronunciation that really befuddled your non-billingual ass.

Now, you'd pretty much gotten the Quenyan greeting: Mae govannen. It meant well met or something along those lines, but you had to add Lord Elrond Half-Elven of Rivendell. I am at your service. Which was much longer and much more complicated. All in all, it pretty much came out to, Mae govannen, Cundo Elrond Peresta-Elda mi Arcimbele. Nanye ketya veume.

English (Common.) was equally as long: Greetings, Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, and Saruman the White of Isengard. Welcome to these halls. I am at your service as well, should you need it.

And lastly, to Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, you had to say the most: And ana lye, Heri Galadriel and Cundo Celeborn, elen sila lumenn omentielvo. Nanye aistana et ketya toled.

And to you, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, a star shines upon the hour of our meeting. I am blessed from your coming.

It was all a mouthful. A regal, elegant mouthful, but a mouthful that your tongue had trouble forming. In addition to all the greetings, you had to address them each in order; first Elrond, then the wizards, then Galadriel and Celeborn at once.

They'd arrived a few days ago, but you hadn't actually been summoned yet. You wondered what Thranduil had told them about you so far. He seemed like the type to exaggerate and make shit up: They're nothing but an abomination! They almost killed Legolas! They tried to kill me! They're dangerous and should be restrained! They toilet-papered my throne room!

The elaborate horns blowing signaled something evidently important; Tauriel's face lit up. "Mellon, it is Legolas! He has returned!"

Despite yourself, your heart jumped like a schoolgirl's. Blue-Eyes was back! "Really?! How do I look? Does it look like I've been taking care of myself?" Legolas would kill you if you weren't. Over the weeks, the blue hair dye had left your hair, returning it to its [h/c] color, even if you did still spike it up-- you'd been an outcast your whole life, so having short spiky hair when everybody else had long, flowing hair made you feel at home. You were dressed in dark browns, nearly blacks, in an outfit very similar to a tunic over leggings, knee-high boots, and all finished up with a long jacket, closed with Elven buckles.

"You look fine, [Y/N]," Tauriel assured you absentmindedly, and the two of you trotted down the many, many stairs and bridges to get to the massive front doors of the palace.

Thranduil and a host of other Elves were greeting Legolas, who looked as if he'd been in Sparkle Land for the last couple weeks. His clothes were in prestine condition. His hair was perfectly plaited away from his face. He wore a faint smile, as if whatever he'd been doing hadn't been stressful at all.

You and Tauriel arrived just as Thranduil finished speaking. "And you failed to locate them?"

Legolas held himself regally. "My apologies, my king. It will not happen again."

Thranduil glared down at him. "I should hope not. You will leave again in three days' time, after you have properly greeted our guests." As Thranduil spun on his heel to leave, Blue-Eyes bowed, rising up again as he seen you and Tauriel.

"Tauriel," He said, his face lighting up. She bowed slightly; apparently Elves didn't hug. He grinned snarkily when he seen you. "And [Y/N]. Last I saw you, your hair was strangely sky-hued."

You scoffed. "You can't even say sky-colored? You have to say sky-hued? Stupid Elves and their fancy ways. Good to see ya anyway, Blue-Eyes, even if you're a priss."

"I believe you mean prince."

You laughed, but it faded when he turned to Tauriel and started speaking in Elvish. He lead her away, talking, leaving you on your own. Your face fell. You wanted to tell him that you knew some greetings. You wanted to say you wanted to go with him when he left again. And the fact that you were already alone here only amplified the feeling of... Jealousy? Disappointment?

You watched them leave for a minute, before deciding you'd take a walk in the Mirkwood-- maybe it'd clear your mind. You nearly rammed into an Elf in turning around. "Whoops."

"Nothing to apologize for," the Elf said; thankfully, they'd caught on to Earth slang and understood you most of the time, instead of just assuming you were insulting them. "Thranduil Elvenking has summoned you to his councilroom. The council awaits you."

Your mouth went dry. All the feelings about Legolas ignoring you vanished in an instant. Oh shit. "I-I don't know where that is. You'll take me there, right?"

"Of course," Said the Elf, and lead the way through the twisting halls. He stopped before the one room of the palace that was actually sealed off from the rest besides the dungeons, with doors almost as big as the ones that lead out of the palace. "Here you are. They're waiting for you." He smiled slightly. "A word of advice for the introductions: let King Thranduil introduce you to them before you say your greetings." You bowed slightly in the Elven way as you thanked him.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous as hell. Meeting a bunch of people, really important people... You'd met some important people before: soldiers were the main ones you'd met, aside from a couple of astronauts. Other than that...

Taking a hugely amplified deep breath, you opened the door.

Inside was a wide winding staircase lit by gorgeously-crafted Elven wall sconces of stained glass and copper metalwork shaped into vines. Every step seemed to echo, and when you reached the top of the staircase, your breath was ripped from you. It was a pavilion. A pavilion in the one place you loved above all else: the sky.

Rails kept anybody from falling off, and it was roofed, so that you could come up here even in the rain. Birds chirped melodiously, and from here, you felt as if you could see all of Middle-Earth. Behind you was a huge mountain range-- you'd never seen mountains before. They were beautiful, snow-capped, and gigantic; the Misty Mountains, obviously. All around you, stretching as far as you could see south and a long way east and west and north, was the Mirkwood, and to the west and north were vast plains, hills, and valleys. Leaves, gold and copper, swirled around the pavilion, giving it an ethereal look. To the west, where you were facing, was a silver lake, wide and glittering in the midday sun. Standing tall and proud beside it was Erebor, home to the King Under the Mountain; currently, Thror. You didn't know why that name seemed so important, though.

You must've turned around in at least a dozen three-sixties, trying to take in what you were seeing. Even if you didn't remember most of it, here you were. You were seeing it, for real and for true, in person, in the home of one of the most revered Elves of Middle-Earth. It seemed unreal, like at any moment, you'd wake up.

A bird, queerly tame, flitted up by your face and up into the rafters; she carried food for her young, and you watched them with a smile, still in disbelief of the views.

A long sigh snapped you out of your trance. Shit. Thranduil waved at you absentmindedly. "Are you daft, vermin? I just introduced you to the council."

"O-oh--"

"Now, now, Thranduil," A wizard chuckled warmly; he wore blue and gray robes, with an immense beard and long hair. Gandalf. "If they really are of another world, then they are obviously stunned by the land. Have you not shown them their new home properly?"

Thranduil nobly facepalmed.

Meanwhile, you realized that it wasn't just Gandalf sitting there smoking his pipe.

Another wizard, this one with long, straight white hair and an equally perfect white beard, in blinding white robes with a white staff: Saruman the White. You didn't know why you got bad vibes from this guy. Beside him sat another Elf, casually, an ankle on his knee and an elbow resting on his higher leg to hold up his head with two fingers. He wore robes of brown and purple, and his long brown hair was held back with a silver Elvish circlet. That had to be Elrond; he looked amused, so you felt kind of relieved. On his left sat a guy who practically glowed, with long blonde hair and white and blue robes. Celeborn. Standing off to the side, with a kind smile like Gandalf, in a billowy white dress with a beautiful Elven circlet made of fine chains and teardrop jewels was a woman, a she-Elf, putting off wisdom-vibes stronger than Gandalf's. Her curling golden hair went well past her waist, and she held herself regally. Out of everyone in this room, she seemed to be the oldest, and the most knowledgeable.

Your Elvish greetings flew right out of your head for a minute, before Thranduil reintroduced you. "This is the council. With us are wizards Saruman the White and Gandalf the Gray, Lord Elrond of House Rivendell, and Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien. Councilmembers, this is [Y/N], the one who appeared from a portal we knew nothing of-- and if I must repeat this once more, I swear to the Valar, I shall throw you off of this pavilion."

Gandalf actually chuckled at that, as did Elrond, while Celeborn cracked a smile. Galadriel seemed to find this all regally amusing. You bowed like Tauriel had showed you. At least, you'd mastered that part. "Mae govannen, Cundo Elrond Peresta-Elda mi Arcimbele. Nanye ketya veume. Greetings, Gandalf the Gray, Mithrandir, and Saruman the White of Isengard. Welcome to these halls. I am at your service as well, should you need it. And ana lye, Heri Galadriel and Cundo Celeborn, elen sila lumenn omentielvo. Nanye aistana et ketya toled."

Elrond looked impressed. "Well, Thranduil, you have certainly trained them well." Thranduil watched you with wide eyes. He hadn't known of your lessons. Suck it, Lord fucking Fabulous.

Celeborn bowed his head. "Your pronunciation is nearly perfect. Well done, young one. However, I doubt you know much else of our tongue yet, so for your sake, we shall converse in Common, if that suits you."

You almost said, It does. Thanks! But that sounded too disrespectful. "Thank you very much." You smiled, and took a seat when Thranduil waved you to the only empty one aside from Galadriel's.

Saruman started off with a wary tone. "Thranduil tells us you come from another world. Is this true?"

Out of the corner of your eyes, you seen Thranduil roll his eyes. "Yes, sir. I come from a place called Earth."

The councilmembers exchanged glances. "That sounds strikingly similar to Middle-Earth," Said Gandalf, and raised an eyebrow. "Are there any similarities between this world, and yours?"

You shook your head sadly. "Not anymore. My people ruined it. There aren't many places like this anymore."

Saruman stiffened. "Then what happens if your people find the portal? Surely, they will try to ruin this, as well?"

You made a face. "They would, yeah, but my people are also really stupid. It'd take a stupid accident and a lot of chance to fall through that portal again, and Legolas said that it only opened once every time a Firemoon happens."

"Legolas?" Elrond asked, curiously, as if this hadn’t been mentioned before. Of course it hadn’t.

You nodded, unsure of why you suddenly had to fight a flush at the mention of his name. "He helped me find the portal with some of his Elven friends when I first got here. We found writing-- he said it was used before the time of even Gondolin. I don't know when that is; is that a long time ago?"

"Very," Replied Gandalf. "Odd... A portal of that magnitude would have to be created by wizards of some sort, especially at such a time..."

A thought suddenly popped into your head. "Some people think we have magic," You piped up, and all eyes were suddenly on you. "But it never works. Not effectively. Just standard hocus-pocus and the power of suggestion. But hundreds of years ago, there was this really mysterious guy who they say really did have magic, which he used to help others. His name was Merlin; he looked kinda like you, Gandalf. But he was in another country, where I come from; where I was when I fell wasn't anywhere near where he traveled."

Saruman narrowed his bird-like eyes. "Then what relevance is this?"

"Because if there was one wizard like you guys in the past," You pointed out, "Why couldn't there be others? There's so much we don't know about history-- we're more intent on wiping out what we don't understand. What if the wizards traveled between worlds and time? Hell, they could be you guys from the future, and it just hasn't happened yet."

"They have a point, Saruman," Gandalf agreed, much to your relief. You didn't think they'd understand the concept of time travel.

"There is nothing we can do about the portal now," Elrond said decisively. "It is closed, and if we tried to destroy it, we could only do damage. It is an easy enough position to defend; should an army come through, they'd have only one entryway."

"Says who?" Saruman challenged. "There could be other portals we do not know of, some that people have not had the misfortune of falling into yet. How do we know that this invader is not a spy to seek out these portals and prepare them for war?"

You fought a sigh. Damn this small-minded son of a bitch... You tried to think of something smart ass to say, but nothing fit the situation.

"They are not, Saruman." Lady Galadriel's voice was sudden, light, and smooth, like honey. It radiated outward with an undeniable power that could make anybody listen to her. "Their thoughts do not lead there." Shit. I mean crap. I mean dang. Mind reader. "They are afraid, and worried... They miss the family they left behind, but they are willing to make a life here, since they have no way of returning."

You nodded. "My thanks, my lady."

Lady Galadriel bowed her head in response.

"Build a life?" Saruman inspected you carefully from where he sat. "You are nothing but an infiltrator. Why should we allow you a place among the citizens of Middle-Earth?"

"It does not have to be here," Thranduil pointed out, and your heart shot to your ankles. "You have an unfortunate habit of collecting needy strays, Elrond; why don't you take them with you when you return to Rivendell?"

Elrond shot him a glare.

Um, I think the fuck not. Lady Galadriel, tell them I say no! Tell them I want to stay here! You thought of the views, and of... of Blue-Eyes...

"Perhaps they should be isolated," Saruman said. "Somewhere they cannot concoct any mischief. Rohan is quite strict, as Gondor is watchful. Either would suffice. Perhaps centuries of isolation in Isengard itself would keep them in line."

"Maybe the Shire would be good for them," Gandalf said. "The hobbits are quite peaceful little creatures. Then again, if isolation is what we are looking for, then Laketown couldn't be better. Or Dale; the dwarves don't let anyone commit any mischief from Erebor."

I don't want to leave...

"Lothlorien would perhaps be suitable," Celeborn added. "Or, maybe even the mines of Moria. I do not have much love for dwarves, but they would be kind enough to them."

"What," Interrupted Galadriel, "Does the subject of our conversation think of this?"

Silence fell. You took a deep breath. "I... I'd like to stay here." You seen Thranduil's head turn slowly to look at you, and you could hear him thinking, the fuck did you just say? "Please, my lord."

A tense silence fell over the room. Finally, Thranduil sighed. "I do not want you here, invader. You would have to prove your loyalty and skill beyond a shadow of a doubt."

You perked up. "Legolas is going on some super-secret missions, right? Maybe I could go with him. You trust him of all people to tell you the truth about me, right? So maybe I could prove myself then."

Thranduil thought about this for a moment. "Legolas is hunting for the orcs who are trying to overtake our borders. He found them, but he let them escape, even though they were a small group. He is leaving in three days with reinforcements; you may join him."

You almost visibly sagged with relief. Almost.

"However," Thranduil added, "If I find his report unsatisfactory, you will go with one of the councilmembers and leave Mirkwood. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Elrond nodded to you. "You would have a home in Rivendell. It is the last safe haven of the Elves in Middle-Earth." He gave Thranduil a pointed sideways glance. "My people are welcoming and kind. They would be glad to have you." With a slight roll of his eyes, he gestured to Gandalf. "And of course, Mithrandir..."

Gandalf looked excited. "I would take you on my journeys with me, if you so desired. First, I would take you to the Shire. Very nice people, those hobbits. And of course, dwarves would be next."

"I thank you both," You smiled slightly, and you truly were grateful, but... "Then it is settled," Thranduil said authoritively. "Elrond, Gandalf, you are welcome to stay here until Legolas returns."

"I would be grateful," Elrond said, but Gandalf defiantly snorted. "I, dear Elvenking, already have arranged for lodgings in Laketown. Send for me once they arrive, so that I may know what I must do."

You felt buoyed a little. Gandalf didn't one-hundred-percent think you'd fail. And you wouldn't. You'd kick ass. You'd save Blue-Eyes's ass again. You'd come back triumphant, and Thranduil would have to let you stay.

Wouldn't he?

Thranduil left first with Elrond and Celeborn, followed by Gandalf and Saruman closely. Galadriel looked out over to the lake, all shiny and pretty and with her hair billowing majestically. "Why do you wish to stay among those who do not wish for your presence?"

You were stunned by the question. "I-I don't know... I've lived all my life an outcast... The hated one... I've just grown used to it. Being somewhere where people would be nice to me makes me uncomfortable. But there are a couple of people nice to me, and that's enough."

Galadriel was silent for a moment. "You think of him."

"Uhhh..."

"The prince."

You did blush this time. "I-I don't--"

"You are one of the Eldar now, mellon," Galadriel stated slowly. "Eldar only fall in love once. I have known many who have been broken by that which is unrequited. Do not be one of them."

You thought about her words for a second. "I don't love him... I don't even have like a crush on him or anything..." I've only known him for a couple days, overall.

Galadriel nodded slightly into the breeze. "Sieze it, if the chance arises. But if it does not, or if you do not think it will... I advise you to seek for a home elsewhere." You got the gist. If I do fall for him on my mission, and I know it won't go anywhere... Leave, even if I succeed.

Your heart was heavy at that thought, but you knew she was right. "Thank you, my lady."

"You need not thank a friend for giving advice." She smiled at you, and you left the pavilion with a deep bow, trying desperately not to let your heartstrings fall apart.

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