Land of Loss and Love; Thranduil Love Story (On Hold)

Understanding Dawning

     I woke up to my nose itching and when I went to scratch it, I found straw had laced its way into my hair and clothes. I picked out as much of the scratchy pieces as I could from my hoodie but when I leaned over to get to my jeans pain spasmed. My back really hurt. I stretched it, feeling the familiar weight of my pack. I had fallen asleep with it on, but at least I hadn't lost it. Even drunk I was smart enough to keep the important stuff with me.

      I sat up and a wave of nausea came over me. I recognized it too well and leaned over just as I threw up. Only liquid, my throat burned, my gut feeling like I was punched. I heaved a few more times before spitting as much of the taste out of my mouth, then I sat back and breathed for a while.

      As I let the pain ebb away, I tried to regain my memory. I wasn't a black-out drunk but things did tend to get hazy. Short hairy men came to mind. And thinking I was in a renaissance fair. But I was at the club, I was sure of it. I blurrily remembered a forest and lots of running, and the soreness in my calves were proof of that, so I had to be in the country. But just how the hell did I get here? Was I drugged?? I couldn't have been out for more that a few hours...

      Warm daylight, soft blond hair, and blue eyes. The maze. It was in the maze.

      It came back to me in a flood. The mountain, the men... dwarves?? I tilted my head back, cradling my stomach, and admired the beams holding the ceiling carved delicately with symbols I didn't understand. Everything was made of wood. From the soft brown beams high above to the smooth tan walls, to the furniture and columns, everything was smothered in smooth comforting tan. Straw covered the floor, bundling up in corners and creases. There wasn't a single light hanging from the ceiling and no electronics that I could see. I was in the maze then I was... here. That was it, that was all I had. I was somewhere I didn't know, but so far I was fine.

      Warm sunlight flooded the room coloring the wood in soft yellow and I listened to the livestock as they meandered about, felt the warm air on my skin, smelled the earthy hay and closed my eyes. I took a few deep breathes, settling myself.

        The pain in my stomach ebbed away and slipping my bag off I rummaged for my phone, finally finding it wedged at the bottom. Not a scratch, thank god. The screen flashed alive, but that's all the comfort I got. No service. No wifi. Nothing. Not a blink. I sighed, clicking it off and shoving it back into the relative safety of black leather. I leaned back, sighed again, then dug back into my bag, pulling out my travel hairbrush and started detangling my mess of hair. I had to pick straw out of it, wrestling quite a few knots out, but once it was a perfect silk blanket again, I twirled it all up into a simple bun, not caring for fancy hairdo's. I shoved away the hairbrush into my pack and pulled the strings tight, then flipped over the flap hearing the magnets click together.

       I took my time rising from the straw floor, balancing a bit and biting back another wave of sickness. I faintly heard talking and found everyone gathered around the table with a huge man discussing something with them. He was three feet taller than them, two for me. A great mohawk of rough chocolate hair rose from his head spreading down his back. He had no shirt on, showing his dirt covered muscle- toned chest. In fact, he was covered in dirt all over. Being as quiet as I could I walked over and decided to stand next to the man who looked like a friendly grandpa, I had to walk behind the post the GL man was leaning on and he glared at me through the corner of his eye.

      The way they all looked, moved, and talked, it really did seem like I was in a different world. Or a really impressive DnD.

     The large man fascinated me, and the curly haired fellow(who I drunkenly remembered as being the nicest to me) asked... Beorn... about his past. He had been taken prisoner and tortured, left alone now with only his animals for comfort. I wondered what it would be like, being the only one left of your family, or of your kind. And I thought of endangered animals, and if they ever had the realization of being so few. When he was finished I was stunned, not just by the strange words he used. His life really was a tragic story.