Ley

Rated for language and adult situations.....uh....Elf situations, too...

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The soft clicking of a keyboard chattered beneath marauding fingers.

‘August 2nd
If anything, I feel at odds with myself...Almost like a crushed bag of Skittles or a smashed Snickers bar; flavor intact, but still a disappointment all the same. I mean, I thought that there would be more to life than simply this: I’m stuck in what feels like a confining wrapper...a sheath of...safety. Not that I’m complaining, but it’s just that I thought I deserve just a little more. Even if I’m not exactly sure of just what that really is. Not to mention I’m just a bit lost as to how to go about getting it...’

Alley groaned softly as she finished updating her myspace page…for once. She usually never really got around to it…not unless she was feeling exceptionally bothered…or bored. In this case, it was more so the latter.
Alley let out a sigh, her forehead gently thumping onto the keyboard in slight defeat. She was disgruntled with how her life was going, both at present as well as what loomed in future. Sure, that was pushing her potatoes a bit close to the edge of her unusually full plate, but she was in no mood to be generous in describing circumstances at hand.
To continue in metaphor, she was thoroughly tired of chewing: striving to avoid or ignore the tougher chunks of her life…especially since said hard-to-swallow mouthfuls threatened to choke her every now and again.

More than usual in the argument of fairness, at any rate. Here she was: stuck between semesters in her second year of college, working for crumby wages at a dead end job where she had to cater to the whims of narcissism-consumed people.
And more than simply that: she was lonely…Most of the gang she had hung out with in high school had moved off and on to better things: more to the point, she was the only one enrolled at a community college while the rest of the jet set had been accepted to other universities around the country. Well, that’s how it seemed, anyway...But the point remained in that they had lost contact with her somewhere down the line, and she felt discarded because of it.

To add insult to injury, she was still boyfriend-less. She’d had one once…three years ago now, actually…and it hadn’t endured well….

It was all probably some whacked out portent depicting the rest of her life: she was doomed. For all the guy-friends she’d had in the past (which in fact wasn’t all that impressive, she realized with a wince) she’d simply been just that: the friend. And no matter how sweet or beautiful everyone kept telling her she was…they were obviously full of it.

Even if they were somehow right (doubtfully) then so called ‘beautiful people’ were obviously among the loneliest in the world. That might explain a few things in her life...if she dared to believe it at least. But even if it was somehow true, and perhaps instead suffered from low-self-esteem more than anything else, it didn’t change her over-all situation. She was still alone, and left wanting...Craving something that seemed somehow out of reach.

She sighed once more, leaning forward slightly to allow her head to bang down on the table’s sour-ingrained surface instead of her mother’s expensive software. She felt screwed over: that her cards hadn’t been doled out according to the rules. For all the dreams she’d held on to, for so long...it all seemed like they were simply that: dreams. Nothing real she could truly grasp, or take with her to help get somewhere. Anywhere.

A muffled sigh found its way about the woodwork as Alley emitted another frustrated breath. She bolted upright, a sudden thought slamming into her skull. ‘Ohmygods…I was supposed to be at work ten minutes ago….’ Swearing furiously, she rocketed out of her chair, banging her shin against the bed post in passing as she ran toward the stairs, taking them two at a time as dread blossomed heavily in her leaden stomach.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—“ It would be the second time this week that she’d be late…Boy, would she be in for it…But then again…maybe the supervisor would be understanding and could vouch for her….All she needed was to come up with a convincing white lie...

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She groaned audibly, the door banging on her entry. She scowled at the linoleum as she made her way into the kitchen, almost as if she blamed said flooring for the crappy evening she’d had. Usually, when returning home from the graveyard shift at work, she was much more reserved….which was to say she was quiet. But now, what with her family gone this lovely Saturday morning around two a.m., she felt no compelling need to cover her emotions.

She stomped over to the fridge, raking her hair back from her eyes. She’d only just started growing her bangs out this year, and keeping her cinnamon blond hair out of her eyes was a bit troublesome. She noted that the fridge light probably had burned out and needed changing, as it hadn’t come on upon opening said appliance. ‘I’ll do it later,’ Alley promised herself, knowing full well that she wouldn’t. After rummaging around, she slammed the crisp door and began rooting around the pantry. She snorted dryly when she noticed a bag of chips. She’d held a slight aversion for potato chips ever since her brother, Josh, had figured out how easily he could stuff them up his nose.
He’d ran and chased her around the house, all the while screaming ‘bloody booger, bloody booger!’….Ah, for the good ol’ days. A ghost of a smile touched her lips.
Sure, she’d eat them if she were starving, but the visual of booger-coated goodies kind of ruined any future potential of enjoying the salty snack aside from desperation or survival. Doubtful it would come to that, though, unless nuclear war broke out.

Humming to herself, and putting the question as to how safe or reliable a food source such as potato chips would be after nuclear radiation, she grabbed a box of Ritz crackers and a grape Shasta from the fridge. Brilliant. Strolling out of the kitchen, she headed downstairs to the Rec room, hoping for a few mindless hours in liberation with the television.

Five minutes later, she glared at the t.v. set, wishing the floor would open up and swallow it whole. A bit of a step up from the microwave, which she mused must be the spawn of evil a couple of weeks ago (anything that could catch fire because of aluminum foil couldn’t be good. She’d discovered that heating up some of her mom’s leftovers. Why mashed potatoes had trace pieces of the food preserver had yet to be discovered).

She tried switching on the lamp that sat near the end of the couch, only to confirm her suspicions.
“I don’t believe this!” She groaned. But there was no denying it: the power was out. So the fridge light hadn’t burned out after all...

‘Perfect,’ She groused sourly, ‘ just ...perfect.’ She sighed, her body sagging tiredly as she set aside her ‘meal’ and stretched. Tonight just most definitely had not been her night. She had been late to work, and being the terrible liar she was (blushing and hesitating foolishly) her supervisor hadn’t bought her excuses and in turn threatened to write her up. Next, the electricity was out, and now she was forced to spend her evening brooding. Wasn’t life just dandy...’

‘Fine, then I’ll just curl up with a flannel blanket on the couch and call it a night...’ Moodily, she set about shedding her uniform. If nothing else, at least she had the house to herself and could walk around half naked without any real repercussions. Meaning her Mom, Lydia, wouldn’t comment on how she needed to lose a little weight. Frowning slightly at the reminder, she tugged off her socks. Not that she wholeheartedly agreed with her...but Lydia did have a point, and being her mother as well as a nurse(as she had for the past fifteen years) she was only looking out for her daughter’s best interests.

She grabbed an oversize shirt she’d shucked off yesterday, wrenching it over her head and scooping out her hair in all the deftness of necessity. She tugged on some worn-out boxers as well: her pajama set had been right where she’d left them last. Sighing once again, for perhaps the umpteenth time of the night, she headed toward the bookshelf, slightly grateful for the moonlight streaming in through the window in granting her some sight. Maybe burying herself in a book for a while would act as a balm for her escalating bad mood.

It was a huge oaken thing, and she scrambled in search of the worn-out spine of a particular book in the fairly dark room. Rumpled as it was in grays of shadow, she gave little thought to her precarious position, as she had clambered up a shelf or two in reckless abandon to her safety–and suddenly lost her balance.
With a strangled yelp, she made a half-hazarded grab for the bookshelf; the only stability nearby that offered even a shred of hope at keeping herself from meeting the floor. A precariously placed book toppled down from the highest shelf and painfully slammed against her wrist. She lost her already bumbling grip, and in the brief vice of pain she was blind to the sparks of August light that snapped and glittered all about her as she fell…into…the earth-bound book. Or rather, Middle-Earth bound…


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There are a thousand ways one could dream of emerging form one’s own world to another. Finding his or her own jaded eyes for once crisp in yearning and admiration. Perchance confusion and awe would set in as bewilderment and niggling fear edged their way in from the surroundings; thoroughly drenching said unsuspecting ‘traveler’ in a light sweat. However the circumstance and whatever the case…such a happenstance would truly leave an assuredly lasting impression.

In Alley’s case, she achieved a ‘lasting impression’ of her own

“Owww…..what the fuck!”

It’s worth mentioning she made a rather lasting one in form on her ass. ‘Damn...that’s gonna bruise,’ she winced bitterly. She sat up, brushing the loam and dirt off of her legs and pajama boxers, shivering as she felt raindrops assault her skin, then froze.

‘Since when do we have pine needles and dirt in the basement rec room...!?’

“I...am in serious trouble...” She groaned. ‘Ah, Toto, we’re not in Illinois anymore...’ She bit her lip. “Serious...fucking trouble...”

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A bubble of delirium popped in her throat.
‘Okay...it’s a dream. This is all just a freakishly...realistic...dream.’ Unwittingly, she stood up; trying to ignore the smarting pain that rippled from her sensitive bottom. She brushed a hand over it gingerly, trying to gauge how bad it was. Alright, so apparently you could feel pain in this dream...Alley suddenly had a disturbing thought.
‘Oh god...this must be my karma for filching some of Rich’s ice tea last night after he refused to share...’ She frowned slightly. ‘Hey, that’s not really fair...I wound up snorting some out my nose by mistake...how does THAT mete as justice!?’ Her current situation finally hit her; though whether or not it was induced by ice tea exhaling had yet to be proven.

“You’ve GOT to be shitting me,” She moaned. She buried her face in her hands. This was NOT happening: Here she was, far from home, sleep deprived in the middle of a DARK forest in the rain, wearing nothing but her brother’s old clothes. She blinked. A glittering snap of something metallic had caught her eye.
There it was again! Cautiously, she squatted down on her heels in order to better investigate. Amid the decaying leaves and earth a metallic glint shivered in what light remained. Retrieving it, she analyzed her findings. From the rusty hook at the end, and the gnarled teeth at its other, it was obviously an old key. Weird.

‘Not that falling off a bookshelf and into the wilderness isn’t...’ She stifled a nervous giggle.
“ THIS keeps getting better and better.’she thought aloud dryly as she scrubbed viciously at the old key with a corner of her shirt in attempts to clean if off. It suddenly occured to her that, while speaking out loud to no one in particular, it hadn’t been English. In fact, aside from a bit of Spanish, she couldn’t recall learning another language. She stared at the key without really seeing it entirely, her mind aimlessly wandering elsewhere.
Not wanting to come to grips in accepting what was now reality, she didn’t dwell on this new revelation. So she wasn’t speaking English. Big deal. She’d fallen into another world. Whoopdedoo. She was probably just comatose after hitting her head on the floor in the rec room. It was all a dream... Shrugging, and not having pockets, she tucked it half-way into the waist-band of her boxers. She couldn’t really explain it, but she had this feeling that she would need it somehow...sort of like how she knew to keep a few pieces of candy in her purse while babysitting her little sister, Erin...

Her green eyes widened slightly. Erin! Her Mother! How were they going to react when they got back from visiting Aunt Jan and found her body? Or...worse...nothing at all? She felt panic edging up inside of her throat again...almost in texture to the feeling of being about to throw up.

What to do...what to do...? well, since she didn’t feel like leaving...evidence...in form of chunks...around the general area, she’d just keep busy. She nodded decidedly to herself. That’s right..useful tasks usually kept her sane, and nausea down, even in her most desperate of moments. Like that time she’s caught her shelf on fire while trying to light some incense in order
to practice meditation. Randomly baking dozens of cookies had made her feel loads better...Although she came to realize that even the tempting smell of chocolate chip couldn’t quell the odor of burnt wood. Especially when her brother, Josh, kept eating them. Her mother,Lydia, helped point that out to her though...

She got up again, and set about walking toward where she judged would be the tallest tree. She half-hazarded a guess that once she got her bearings, she could figure out how to get past square one: being lost. Plus, Alley knew on some level or other that there were less dangerous woodland creatures willing to eat her that dwelt in trees. At least she hoped so. Even if this was just some crazy hallucination, she felt bound and determined to survive it. Besides, things just couldn’t get any worse.

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There had once been a time Alley had enjoyed tree climbing. Especially this one particular young pine at the soccer field when her brother used to play on a team. She’d carefully perch amidst the branches, pretending she was a squirrel or some other woodland creature. Now all she had to show for it were some scarred knees from her few tumbles and an apparent inability of climbing sans practice.

The light rain wasn’t helping either. Perfect...Just fucking perfect. Things had in fact become much worse. Rivulets of water slipped beneath her fingers as they fought for purchase on the drenched wood. Her pajamas clung to her like a second skin, making her feel soaked and chilly.

She ground her teeth in irritation when she slipped for what seemed like the seventh time. At this rate, she had little doubt there was risk of her breaking her neck. She chanced a quick glance downward. Okay, so she was POSITIVE that she would break her neck. If the fall didn’t kill her, impalement on a nasty tree branch was an option. Always look on the bright side...that was quickly becoming Alley’s motto.

Locking her jaw, she strained upward, finally managing to poke her head out near the top of the canopy and into the pouring rain. Surprisingly, it was a relatively good view despite a few obscure branches, the falling rain, and all of the mingling...

“Black Emperor Butterflies!” Alley yelped, nearly losing her grip in her shock. She felt drained, suddenly, and clung direly to the trunk as it all clicked into place, her eyes never straying from the wet, dying creatures laid out on the branches. ‘ I was reaching for ‘The Hobbit’...and I lost my balance...and that book that fell and hit me...I fell ...INTO it maybe..?’ She giggled, near hysterical in her disbelief. So...here she was: Allison O’Brien, in Middle Earth.

Josh used to read them to her...almost religiously. As a child, most of the detail had been lost on her...but that didn’t mean the tales ran through her blood, thicker than blood. When he’d first moved out for school, she’d call him with the bullshit excuse of wanting to argue over some point to do with the books. Or on some occasions, listen to him breathe the words in his voice over the phone. How many people could lay claim to that? How many had older brothers willing to read to you over the phone– at long distance no less?

She breathed out a sigh, studiously concentrating on climbing down. Coaching herself between reprimands in more of an effort to retain some pint of dignity and piece–er–peace of mind, to say the least.

“You’re being stupid...You’ve been eating too much junk, and its finally haunting you. You’re not in Middle Earth...You’re getting DOWN from this fucking tree...” A bare trace of a grin reached her eyes… “….and I’m not believing it anyway until I see an Elf–“
Without warning, an arrow viciously ripped past her in its flight to claim the ebony cape of night above her. Startled, she whipped her head back, nearly falling in the process as she straddled the wet, unyielding wood. But at least this time, it hadn’t exactly been her fault. Filled with dread, she looked down.

‘Alley... you’re last wish...has been granted.’ For there, not eight yards below her, stood an Elvish hunting party, armed to the teeth. And aside from looking drenched, they looked pissed.

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“Who gave you leave to wander these woods!” Alley contemplated throwing the rusty old key she’d found at who she took as their haughty-toned leader. But she realized on some level or other that she still had the nostalgia feeling of importance pertaining to the article. Not mention her aim sucked last time she checked, and if she remembered correctly, Elves were excellent marksmen. Arrows were sure to hurt more than old keys. Things looked bleak what with her stuck in a tree at the moment...but at least if they intended to capture her, they’d need her earth-bound first.
‘And breathing...hopefully breathing.’She adjusted her shirt slightly, altogether painfully aware that despite being an asphalt gray, it in no way hid her curves with its soggy mass. How embarrassing. ‘ ...Should I suck in my stomach, or have they already seen everything...?’

“Give answer, mortal...You try our patience.” Screw appearances; so what if she had a squishy belly! That wasn’t the important issue at hand, here. Plus, she figured that she already looked like a half-drowned rat any way what with her being soaked and all. Maybe if she tried being polite, they’d just lose interest and leave her alone?

“Uh, I”m sorry?” Again, she realized it wasn’t English. It was something else...? She wondered briefly if she’d understand Elvish as well. Said eyes of the particular Elf darkened, lips thinning as he gave signal to another of the party, who notched his arrow and bow.

“Wrong answer, child.” She emitted a shriek, dodging the questing weapon on its passing flight, nearly losing her already precarious grip in the process. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d missed on purpose, even with the rain fall acting as an obstruction in addition to the cloak of night. It occurred to her then that first arrow had probably been used as a similar ruse to get her attention was well. ‘Twisted jerks! A shout would have qualified just fine!’

“I will ask you once more: who gave you leave to wander our woods past dusk?” She stared down at him; his gorgeous golden hair nearly silver in darkness and the torchlight. Several others shared the same ethereal glow; auburn and blond shades forming hallows nearly beneath hooded cloaks wreathed like jet in the rain.

“Your mother!” She yelled; her voice rose a higher octave in her irritability.

There was a stillness in the air, and Alley’s stomach laced itself amidst her twisted innards at the regret of her words. ‘Oh...so THIS is how I’m going to die...’ briefly flashed through her mind. But she stamped it down...grasping onto hope as desperately as she did with her white-knuckled grip on the rough tree bark. A smattering of what she took to be Elvish blossomed beneath her between the party, and a third, fatal arrow found its mark.

Granted, it hit just above her left hand...as was probably intended...but it still scared the hell out of her nonetheless. With a scream, she lost her grip in her haste, and began the long tumble down.

Branches and skeletal browning leaves blurred into a kaleidoscope of nauseating color and whistling sound as they cracked under her descent. All at once, she landed heavily into someone’s arms. Shocked, she went limp for a minute, hardly able to gather what had just transpired in her daze. But just as quickly, she began to struggle in order to get away. She managed to get to her feet, and without really thinking, she rearranged the key’s hiding place before the Elf found his grip on her person again. A part of her yet to be identified desperately felt that it needed to be kept a secret. But for now, she decided to analyze that reasoning later.

“Lemme go! Let GO of me! You son of a–!” her savior then gagged her mouth, cutting off any further elaboration on her choice remarks. Several pairs of hands efficiently and tightly bound her limbs. Thoroughly pissed, hurt, and confused from the treatment she was receiving, she set about trying to bite at his fingers and palm with her blunt canines. He began swearing, from what Alley could tell, in Elvish, relying on several others to bind her wrists and restrict her movements.

Perhaps not completely unexpectedly, a rough cloth found its way as a makeshift blindfold over her eyes. Nonetheless, what happened next caused her to cease her wild struggles. She felt
herself being thrust into someone else’s arms, stumbling as she tried to maintain balance. Falling with her arms pinioned would make it a nasty fall.

“Me thinks the pain from cooperation would be more forgiving than a spear, mistress...” Alley froze at the sound of those deadly words whispered in the shell of her ear. Taking the hint, she went limp against her captor. The past twenty-four hours finally caught up with her, weighing down on her heavily. It was quiet once more in the folds of shattered water and broken torchlight beneath the eery trees and thick spider webs. Even the sparse, cotton-mouthed muttering belonging to the Elves as they spoke in their beautiful tongue came to a near standstill.


“By what name do you go by?” She swallowed at the reasonable question, somehow more disturbed than ever by the tranquil calm of his voice...whoever ‘he’ was...of the now echoing stillness, beneath the hooded eyes of the forest.

“It’s...Al...er...it’s Ley. My name is Ley.” She turned her head slightly, uneasy at the feel of his chest pressed to her back, with an Elvish blade biting into her side. “What’s yours?” she dared. Surprisingly, he gave answer...but not exactly in the way she would have liked.

“I think...Lady Ley, that is best to be answered in due time.”
“Don’t call me ‘lady’!” She snapped waspishly, but was cast once more into silence by the biting of her lip...and the feel of the dagger pressing more intimately into her side, in rebuke.

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“You are certain of this? That a ...girl-child, such as this, had a hand in the prisoners’ release?”
Doubt laced his tone. The dark eyes of Artani traced back toward the companion of whom he was addressing; hard pressed not to glance back at the strange human being dragged in their midst. ‘Dragged’ being the most operative word for it: the arms of their companions entwined themselves in her ropes, pulling her hastily along. She was a creature of perhaps twenty autumns, voluptuous curves blatantly showing through her unusually baggy, wet shirt.

Calanon had no such qualms, and stared openly every now and again at the mortal. He smoothed his hand down the ash wood of his spear in thought, murmuring back his reply in their native tongue.

“ I know not...and yet...her garb is strange, her voice tinged in oddity, and evidence would suggest implications what with such a convenient appearance in times such as these...” A slight smile arched his fine lips, as he turned and graced Artani with a full–blooded smile.

“ I should not like to be in her skin.” Artani nodded in agreement; Thranduil, although patient, was not a King to trifle with. Much less with strangers; mortal young women who spoke rudely would be no exception...especially in the circumstances time was now laying out before them.

“Nor I, my friend...” He chanced a quick look to the girl, fumbling blindly as the torch light shivered in the wake of her drenched silhouette...caramel hair entangled with twigs and leaves, her garments thoroughly soaked. It seemed a most pathetic sight.

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They were doing it again...: speaking in Elvish...purposely excluding her from the conversations blossoming about. She bristled at the knowledge that, for whatever the reason, she could apparently only understand...whatever the heck she was able to speak... Rats and double rats

She started at the feel of someone grasping her shoulder, but relaxed slightly as it proved to ease her tightened bindings. She hated this: not only being trussed up like a fowl, but having to rely on others to be her eyes and guides. Others who not only threatened her life a time ago, by shooting arrows at her so that she fell out of a fucking TREE, but also were of the opposite sex.
‘Right, THAT”S the part to be focusing on, you moron.’ She bit her lip at the feel of another tree root tripping her up. Only the rough arms hurrying her along kept her from tumbling into the crackling loam and un-dry earth. But in reflection... it was true. She already felt uncomfortable around guys, especially since she was altogether too aware that she had no affect on them to her knowledge. She never knew what to say or do...She hadn’t had a male friend, at least one who was more of an acquaintance, since grade school. This reminder disturbed her a bit, and Alley secretly admitted to herself that the issue still dwelt with concern in the near forefront of her mind.

Suddenly, without warning, she found herself being tossed over someone’s broad shoulder and the clatter of many feet over a bridge broke her train of meandering thought. The Key jammed into her flesh, and while wincing at the slight jarring pain, she silently congratulated herself in changing its hiding place. If she had left it at her side, tucked amid her clothing, it probably would have been discovered in an instant. The sound of a great gate, heaving in age, made her snap up her head at the realization of where they had taken her.

The woodland king’s palace 'Tha...that’s near the eastern border...so fucking doomed!’ Like a wildcat reawakened to find her flesh and fur afire, she began struggling wildly.

“Lemme go! Please! Put me down! Put me down RIGHT now...I’m warning you– ”

“ Hold your tongue! You are in no position to threaten or warn anyone above that of your station” a velvet voice cut between her tirade. But if anything, this enraged Alley even more.

“Above my–?You arrogant son of a pig! You know absolutely NOTHING about me—let alone my ‘station’! Now put me DOWN! I haven’t DONE anything!” she continued fuming, her caterwauling echoing about the rocks and halls as they entered the cave. She felt the arms at her thighs tighten; bands of steel. Obviously, their sensitive ears disapproved of her loud yells. ‘Good.’ She thought venomously, continuing her tirade.

“ Is there some sort of freaking law about getting lost in the woods? Are you THAT territorial or something? Gaia, you’re WORSE than my aunt’s dog! Why don’t you just mark up a list of everything travelers can and can’t do and post it against the damn–!”

“ ENOUGH!” dead quiet fell like a deafening knell, and Alley instantly lapsed into silence. Of course, that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact her transporter had hurled her to the floor. Nope, not a thing. She wheezed for breath; her chest hollow in pain. Damn, he’d winded her. She let out a small whine.

“What...the… fu– ”

“Enough of your foul language, girl! Now on your feet!” Despite her growing ire, she wobbled to obey, and found that another was loosening her blindfold. She then desperately wished it had been left on.

Pools of shadow, engorged with the gold and flame of torchlight rebounded about what Alley took to be the throne room. Tapestries draped caressingly from rock and wall, dripping in mouth-watering color and array. Elves, fair of face and as lovely as the deadly weapons of spears and swords that glittered like jewels at their sides, lined the area before her. And there, not much further ahead, sat Thranduil himself at a throne carved from the wood of an aged Beech trunk. Wine red carpet puddled at his feet, and a crown of berries and autumn leaves laced within the shy shine of silvery gold sat upon his brow. And in short, he was gorgeous. Intimidating to say the least.

Someone shoved at her back, making her take a hard landing on her knees, after having managed to wriggle up into a crouching position. She hissed quietly, stealing a quick glance behind her to confirm her suspicions. She felt her ropes being loosened as an Elf of ebony locks knelt beside her. He offered her a soft look that couldn’t quite be called a smile or even the blush of one. But the blue webs tangled in his eyes made her reminiscent. He reminded her of someone...

“It has been said you were found wandering beneath the shade of Mirkwood. What business have you here?” She grimaced as she massaged a bit of life back into her protesting wrists, and the dark-haired Elf moved aside. Hesitantly, she sat up, giving a far different answer.

“Oww…”

Thranduil’s voice snapped her back to focus.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, mortal!” She resisted the urge to role her eyes, and swallowed instead.

“My name is...Ley. I...got sort of lost...in your woodland realm.” She took a sobering breath, trying to look convincing. She felt safer in using an alias than her real name. Not that ‘Ley’ was quite far fetched from her true identity, but she hadn’t expected in being asked who she was. It kind of slipped her mind, so she’d stumbled over her words a bit.

“ I was captured from a tree I had only climbed in the first place so that I could get my bearings.” he narrowed his eyes at her, and the court whispered softly in Elvish ripples. She tried not to fidget. If they smelt a lie Alley had little doubt that they had no qualms in locking her up. Sort of like Bilbo and the dwarves ...wait... ‘How long ago has that been, I wonder? What Age is it...?’ Again, she was abruptly pulled from her thoughts.
Or, in the more literal sense, grabbed by two armed guards and dragged barely a hair’s breadth away from Thranduil himself. His sweet breath ruffled her hair, and again the stubborn locks were falling into her eyes. The cruel metal of her captors' armor chafed her skin, and she became painfully aware as to how wet and steadfastly her sleep wear clung to her skin. And the way his eyes berated her made her feel like scum. ‘Check that...ugly scum’.

“The latter...” he mused, arching an elegant eyebrow, “is most apparent.” She felt heat blossom in outrage across her face, but she bit her tongue–hard–to keep from incriminating herself. His pale eyes glanced toward the guards, suddenly barely acknowledging her presence. In the physical, any way.

“Search her.” They dragged her away, and she nearly tripped as they hauled her away and off the throne room’s slightly raised platform. She sputtered in protest at the treatment.

“Hey! Let go! Stop it–hey–no frisking!” They patted at her sides, loosening the ropes, tugging at her garments in more probable curiosity or reason than anything else. She idly wondered if they actually expected to find any weapons any where on her person. ‘Thank gods I hid that key...’
They ceased their unwelcome ministrations, and then something quite curious happened. One of the guards from the hunting party then stepped forward, totting an interesting bag...Alley’s eyes widened slightly in recognition. ‘How...? How the heck did my purse get here...? I left it upstairs on the living room floor...didn’t I?’ Noting her reaction, the Elf handed it off to the dark haired companion of Thranduil, who set about emptying it.
Her aged wallet, along with a few other miscellanea, rained down upon the stone floor and wine colored carpet. She sighed, annoyance and humiliation warring across her facial expression. All at once, she noticed that the dark haired Elf, the one with the ocean-hearted eyes, stepped forward. In bemused puzzlement, he retrieved a narrow rolled package. Ley’s green orbs widened in realization.

‘Oh SHIT...don’t you DARE –' Too late. With a crinkle, he opened the vertical wrapper, and drew out a rod shaped structure. His enraptured gaze met that of Thranduil’s, whose hooded eyes also belied his curiosity.

“What do you make of this?” Her stomach dropped. Oh. Boy. One of the Fates hated her. She was sure of it. She cleared her throat, gaining the attention of both Elves. As well as the rest gathered within the room, she noted dryly.

“That’s...uh...,”Alley coughed lightly, trying to hide her embarrassment. She was failing miserably. “Well...that’s a tampon.” They gave her a vague stare.
‘Crap.’

“Uh...something...used for...menstrual purposes...?” Still nothing. If anything, they looked even more curious. And when the dark haired Elf lightly sniffed said contraption, she wanted to be swallowed up by the floor.
“I–well, it’s what human women use for moon days,” she used the bunny ear gesture nervously with her hands for emphasis on the point. She chanced a look about the room, and noted that a few of the Elves seemed to get it...at least judging by their facial expressions. She also noted that they were female. Thranduil and his companion, however...were still fascinatingly clueless. Huffing an irritated sigh, she exploded.

“Oh, for PETE”S SAKE! It’s what I use to catch the blood from my cycle! For ‘that time of month’. When I don’t conceive a child! There, are you SATISFIED now!?”

The one holding her merchandise recoiled slightly, leaving Alley to peevishly snatch it up once more, stuffing it in her fist. It was like talking to a brick wall, she fumed. Thranduil, for once, seemed at a loss for words.

“But how would...but its impossible to completely cover–“ She shot the ebony haired companion a dirty look, elaborating through her teeth to answer his question.

“It’s not supposed to, dumb-ass. I have to shove it–“

“Peace, Lady Ley, peace.” Her hooded eyes flickered back over to Thanduil. Was he smirking? That bastard...he was! ‘Idiotic pervert...’ She let the ‘lady’ title slide. For now.

“That, however, brings something to question.” He continued. ‘What, that you would all fail middle school sex ed.?’

“ From our observations and dealings with the people of Laketown,” here his voice raised slightly in volume, almost as if he expected her to recognize the name of it, “there is no device known to us of similar distribution.” Suddenly, it clicked. So, they anticipated that she was from Laketown! Maybe that’s what they were having a hullabaloo about: they didn’t want someone from the ‘home front’ snooping around...

“Actually, your Grace,” She hastily jumped in, “ We do indeed have several...mechanisms, beyond this, uh, nature, that you might not even yet be aware of.”

“Oh, really?” His voice dripped in syrup.

“Yeah...We’re pretty good at keeping secrets. So...um...Is that it? Can I go now?” He cleared his throat decisively.

“I think not, Lady Ley.” She tried interrupting, but he continued.
“How is it that you so conveniently have appeared not a day past the escape...” His voice trailed off, and unwittingly, Alley fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

“What, you mean the dwarves?” She blurted. Thranduil’s eyes had took on a dangerous look.

“None would here know of this, ‘lest they had a hand in its doing. Lock her up. We’ve questions that need answering.”

“What! NO!” Panic erupted in her throat, and she hurriedly scrambled to finish stuffing her belongings back into her pockets as Elvin guards strove to restrain her.

“You bastards! I didn’t DO anything! Leave me alone!”
However, she had plans of her own. None of which in the least consisted of being recaptured; even at the cost of losing her purse and its contents now splattered across the floor. Kicking the nearest Elf in the shins, she made a break for it. Leaping over the pained soldier, Alley started running for the door.
Never mind she didn’t really know the way out; she was getting the hell of here. As flawed as her plan seemed, it might in a sense have actually worked. ‘Might’ being the opperative word. Before she had the chance to barrel past the door, she slammed into someone with quick reflexes. Once again, she found her back uncomfortably pressed against the chest of yet another Elf, and a wicked looking blade pressed to her throat.
“Shit.” she wheezed

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“Be still,” he commanded quietly.
“And...you’ll let me go?” she joked weakly. The blade tightened its bite into her skin. ‘Right, so he’s not the joking type’ she thought dourly.

“Double shit.”

“Hold your tongue!” He snapped. Alley was fast losing her patience. Just what exactly had she done here, aside from stand up for her rights and dignity of being treated like a decent human being?

“Or what? You’ll cut it out, I assume? Great idea, Einstein! You’d get some answers then, wouldn’t you Sherlock?” Neither Elf nor girl noticed the progressive silence growing within the settling court.

“You’re in no position to be making ridicule of your captors!” He ground out against her neck.

“Oh, fuck you!” His grip tightened, the dagger poised. But it only deterred her for a moment; she was feeding off of her anger. It was a potent emotion; it made you feel stronger than you really were. And right now, she desperately craved that feeling.

“Curb your language, or you’ll not receive sustenance for two days!”

“Go kiss an orc!”

“A week!” He snapped hotly.

“Fine, you jerk!”

“Make that another day!”

“Asshole!”

“And another!”

“How about one more, you twisted , sadistic son of a–!”

“My Lady, my son, that is enough.” He flinched slightly, much to her surprise, and his grip eased in pressure slightly. Alley felt herself go slightly numb. Wait...son? So...she’d just cussed out Legolas? Oh boy, this was rich. Fate didn’t just hate her. It wanted to kill her. Thranduil had thoughtful eyes turned their way, his expression promising intent unreadable. Much to Alley’s chagrin, he began speaking in Elvish. Apparently directing it at Legolas...

“Not for a while have I seen such passions evoked in you, my son.”
“It will not happen again, Father.” Thranduil nodded, but didn’t look convinced. He didn’t look altogether upset about it either, though.

“As you would have it.”

“Speak English, damn it!” All Elves of the court fixed her with their withering stares. ‘Oops...’

“ I mean...Common Tonuge...speak the Common Tongue...” She fidgeted slightly, despite Legolas’s strong hold, which tightened in discouragement at her sudden movement.

“If this is about me, I’ve a right to hear it.” She hesitantly met Thranduil’s gaze. He sighed, nodding lightly, to her nonetheless grateful befuddlement.


“Fair enough, Lady Ley. Legolas,” the prince straightened at his name, but it seemed taut; wrought in discomfort. ‘That’s weird,’ But Alley kept her musings to herself. For once. She wisely decided she’d put her foot in her mouth enough for one day.
“...I would have you command her. As both her guide and her jailer... Until she is ready to talk. You seem well...adjusted...for this opportunity.” Ley felt her ire rising, but kept her facial expression blank, as she looked away and sized up the eerily silent court. Elladan’s face remained blank as well. Although his eyes were more so fixed on the girl in the prince’s arms than anyone else.

“As you wish.” Legolas quipped. “Come, my Lady.”She sputtered in protest, and he raised his voice to be heard above her insults, “Artani! If you would, gather bathing supplies and a spare dress from one of the serving girls. Meet us in the Western hall.”

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‘I hate Elves, I hate Elves, I hate Elves, I hate Elves...’ Alley ripped his arm away from her shoulder angrily, but it resumed its presence just as soon as it had dispersed by her discouraging movement. She growled in frustration. He was being entirely too calm about this! The stupid jerk...never mind his eyes reminded her of polished sapphires in depth and degree, his full lips like peaches and–

Gah! She couldn’t even insult him properly. What was wrong with her? All at once, they came to an abrupt halt within a strange room, and she looked to him in question. He crossed his arms carelessly, his glance hardly straying from hers. But she still grew progressively uncomfortable beneath his lingering scrutiny.
“Get undressed.” He commanded sharply.

Her blood felt as though it had suddenly evaporated or run cold, even though her face looked like a favorable impression of a cherry. She stumbled back from the Elf, colliding into what looked like a narrow boat paddle. Acting on adrenaline and impulse, she…

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A/N: Cliffhanger….!! Reviews or complaints?