An Elf's Rose
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
1,556
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
1,556
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
It was dark and warm and safe. His memories did not torment him and there was no hunger or thirst, pain or anger. He had no name and drifted in a blissful state.
~~~
Sporadically, he would waken to unwanted consciousness, hearing loud, disembodied voices that echoed in his new womblike home. He tried to shut them out, sometimes succeeding, sometimes not. He became aware of a tiny pinprick of pulsing light far above him that seemed to grow larger if he paid attention to it. The voices seemed to come from there. He was attracted to, yet dreaded the light. He would watch it entranced, a beautiful swirling kaleidoscope, until it started to expand, then turn away from it when the anxiety became too strong.
~~~
The light seemed to be getting brighter and larger, even when he refused to look at it. Some of the thunderous voices became recognizable, yet still unintelligible. He recognized his father’s voice, and Sondra’s, and Rosie’s. Sometimes they whispered, sometimes they spoke loudly, and sometimes they wept. He liked it best when he heard Rosie singing. At those moments he would lose his fear of the light and let it grow large enough to encompass him. When that happened, he could understand the words better. But it would soon become too much for him and he would escape back into the dark.
~~~
The first full sentence he understood was uttered by an unknown female voice. It struck fear into him and he retreated from the light as far as he could go.
“Yes, he’s starting to wake up.”
~~~
Rose’s life seemed to have changed completely overnight. Perhit wit was she that had changed. From the moment she had wakened from that exhausted sleep, clutching Orlando’s severed hair to her cheek, she knew there was no going back.
That Sunday morning, still both physically and emotionally exhausted, she had gone to an early Mass with her family, kneeled in prayer the entire time and had gone up to Father McKinney on her own and asked for a service to be said for Orlando. She then went to the rectory to speak with Sharon Connor who headed the weekly prayer meetings and submitted his name to her for special prayers until further notice. Her parents watched her as she swiftly took on adulthood, bewildered and a little saddened at the loss of their little girl, yet gladdened at the glimpse of the woman she would become.
Having covered the spiritual ground as best she knew, she went into action. She’d left her purse at Karyn’s place in the chaos of the night before, and not having anyone’s phone number, she headed out there alone in her Civic, finding the place after a couple wrong turns, and only because Orlando’s smoke-colored BMW was parked out front.
Rose pounded on the door and Marc answered it in his boxers with his short hair sticking up in all directions. He was very surprised to see her and yanked her unceremoniously into the apartment.
“Fuck me slowly,” he said in admiration. “Hey Karyn, look who’s here!”
Karyn peeped around the corner and yelped, running to hug Rose. They hugged each other fiercely for a bit.
“Did you get to see him?” Karyn asked softly. Rose nodded into her neck. “Was it awful?”
Rose pulled away. She nodded again. “I’m going to the hospital now. Do you want to come with me?”
Marc answered her. “We’re going in a bit. You go ahead, don’t want to keep you.” Karyn handed Rose her purse and Marc opened the door. He gave her a uneven grin. “I’m gonna have to warn Orli about you when he – when he gets better.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.
“You beat the shit out of Sean and he must be twice your size. Orli ever gets into an argument with you, he better have one of his knives on him.”
Rose stared at him in dismay, remembering another time with Orlando and a knife.
“Hookay, bad joke.” Marc scrubbed his hands over his face. “We’ll see ya later, right?”
~~~
Rose was directed to another waiting room, closer to the ICU where Orlando was. It was filled with people who, from their conversation, were there for him. She spotted Sean and Amy talking to a very tall and muscular black man.
“Rosie!” Amy called out, spotting her. Rose went completely self-conscious when the entire room seemed to turn and stare at her.
Sean came to her rescue by rushing over to take her into a bear hug. His black eye had gotten worse, and Rose touched it apologetically. He grunted. “Baby, it’s the least I deserve. I wear it with pride.” He turned to the group. “Hey, everyone, this is Rosie, Orli’s girl.” Rose blushed to the roots of her hair as several people came over to make her acquaintance.
It turned out most of them were people from Robert Bloom’s firm, some even with their families. The very large black man introduced himself as Sammy.
“My mamma works in Mr. Bloom’s office with that boy every day. She loves him like one of her own and she’s pretty broken up about this business.” Sondra and Robert were with Orlando at the moment.
Rose lo at at Sean. “Has there been any change?” Sean shook his head, his face grave.
“He’s still on the respirator. The bone doctors are coming in this afternoon.”
Robert entered the waiting room with Sondra, a middle-aged but very attractive woman, his arm around her shoulder. The marks of grief were strong on her face, although she did not weep. Sammy went over to her immediately and pulled her to a chair to sit.
“Next,” Robert said to the room at large. Rose looked at Sean. “I’ve seen him already,” he whispered, a look of anguish in his eyes.
Robert caught Rose’s eye. smiling, but she noticed the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked like he had barely slept, if at all. He cocked his head, beckoning to her. <>
<>
“I’ll wait till everyone else has had a turn,” she said.
~~~
Rose walked up to the slab where Orlando lay exactly the same as he’d lain the night before. There was a stool on his left side which she perched on. She took his limp long-fingered hand and looked at him for a long time in silence. The machines beeped, the respirator whooshed, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically. His body was there, but no one was home. He was like a living corpse. Rose shuddered.
Robert, standing on Orlando’s other side, looked at her sympathetically. “The doctors tell me that some coma patients can hear when you speak to them. Orli’s coma is not too deep, so he can most likely understand us, even though he can’t respond.”
e loe looked up at him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell him something that will make him want to come back to us.” Robert grimaced and his eyes shifted to Orlando’s peaceful face. “Tell him what’s in your heart, Rose.“
What’s in my heart’ Rose scrunched her eyes against the tears that threatened. Tell him of my fear of the future? My grief at the loss of what might have been?
“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit, do you mind?” Robert asked quietly. “I’m dead on my feet and I need a wee break.”
“Of course! You should go sleep –“
Robert reached across and placed his hand over hers and Orlando’s. “I know you’ll take good care of him.”
~~~
Rose caressed his arm slowly. His skin, though cool, was silky soft and covered in a dusting of white-blond hair. She picked up his hand and examined it closely. She stroked the slender fingers, the short clipped nails, the smooth palm, calloused from aikido and kendo, the blue veins on the back. It was a strong, sensitive hand, familiar with hard work. She brought it up to her cheek, caressed herself with it and kissed the center of the palm.
She couldn’t help but admire the sculpted muscle of his upper arms, shoulders and chest, remembering when he had held her tight against them. He looked like a Greek statue, smooth pale skin like marble. She could tell he was completely nude under the thin blanket and closed her eyes and turned away from the temptation to look. She was pierced by the recollection of his arousal pressed against her at the park. Rose shuddered, and lowered her forehead to his bare shoulder and wept.
“Oh, Orlando. Don’t let this be the end,” she whispered in his ear, feeling tears slide down her face. “Please come back to me. Please give me a chance.”
She caressed his beautiful sculpted cheek with her fingertips, followed the line of his strong jaw to his bottom lip. She desperately wanted to kiss his mouth, but the horrid breathing tubes were in the way. His pale lips felt rough and cracked and Rose knew she could offer a tiny comfort. From her purse she pulled lip balm and gently rubbed the stick against his slack mouth, putting a thick coat on.
Rose lher her head in the hollow below his shoulder, with her mouth facing his ear. She listened to the steady thump of his heart and began to sing the first thing that popped in her head: a nonsense lullaby that her mother used to sing to her.
“Hush a bye, don’t you cry
Go to sleep my little baby
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little ponies
In your bed
Mamma said
Baby’s riding off to dreamland
One by one
They’ve begun
To dance and prance for little baby
Blacks and bays, dapples and grays
Running in the night
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little ponies….”
~~~
“Well, it looks here,” Dr. Nelson said, pointing to the X-rays of Orli’s spine with a ballpoint pen, “that the trouble is T-4 and T-5. Both look fractured and displaced.” He removed his glasses and peered at Robert and Rose. “That’s why he is unable to breath on his own. His diaphragm isn’t working.”
Rose gripped Robert’s forearm and he covered her hand with his. His stomach roiled again. He knew he should probably eat something, but the idea made him nauseated.
“Is there anything that can be done?” he asked the specialist.
“We’ll do what we can, of course, and I’ve seen worse, but still the odds are he’ll never walk again.”
Robert felt that yawning chasm below his feet again. He shut his eyes and asked, “And he’ll be on a respirator as well?”
“Hmm, well, as to that, it may be the pressure of the bones and the swelling of the spinal cord that is causing the diaphragm to not receive the signals from the brain. Realigning the vertebrae may or may not help, depending on the actual damage to the cord.”
“How soon can he go into surgery?”
“I would wait another couple days for the swelling to go down a bit more. He may spontaneously regain his breathing capability on his own, as well as come out of the coma. While I understand it’s not very deep, it would be useless to perform surgery of this kind on a patient who may never wake up.”
That bald statement left them both shaken. He is going to wake up’ Robert thought. He just is, dammit.
It was dark and warm and safe. His memories did not torment him and there was no hunger or thirst, pain or anger. He had no name and drifted in a blissful state.
~~~
Sporadically, he would waken to unwanted consciousness, hearing loud, disembodied voices that echoed in his new womblike home. He tried to shut them out, sometimes succeeding, sometimes not. He became aware of a tiny pinprick of pulsing light far above him that seemed to grow larger if he paid attention to it. The voices seemed to come from there. He was attracted to, yet dreaded the light. He would watch it entranced, a beautiful swirling kaleidoscope, until it started to expand, then turn away from it when the anxiety became too strong.
~~~
The light seemed to be getting brighter and larger, even when he refused to look at it. Some of the thunderous voices became recognizable, yet still unintelligible. He recognized his father’s voice, and Sondra’s, and Rosie’s. Sometimes they whispered, sometimes they spoke loudly, and sometimes they wept. He liked it best when he heard Rosie singing. At those moments he would lose his fear of the light and let it grow large enough to encompass him. When that happened, he could understand the words better. But it would soon become too much for him and he would escape back into the dark.
~~~
The first full sentence he understood was uttered by an unknown female voice. It struck fear into him and he retreated from the light as far as he could go.
“Yes, he’s starting to wake up.”
~~~
Rose’s life seemed to have changed completely overnight. Perhit wit was she that had changed. From the moment she had wakened from that exhausted sleep, clutching Orlando’s severed hair to her cheek, she knew there was no going back.
That Sunday morning, still both physically and emotionally exhausted, she had gone to an early Mass with her family, kneeled in prayer the entire time and had gone up to Father McKinney on her own and asked for a service to be said for Orlando. She then went to the rectory to speak with Sharon Connor who headed the weekly prayer meetings and submitted his name to her for special prayers until further notice. Her parents watched her as she swiftly took on adulthood, bewildered and a little saddened at the loss of their little girl, yet gladdened at the glimpse of the woman she would become.
Having covered the spiritual ground as best she knew, she went into action. She’d left her purse at Karyn’s place in the chaos of the night before, and not having anyone’s phone number, she headed out there alone in her Civic, finding the place after a couple wrong turns, and only because Orlando’s smoke-colored BMW was parked out front.
Rose pounded on the door and Marc answered it in his boxers with his short hair sticking up in all directions. He was very surprised to see her and yanked her unceremoniously into the apartment.
“Fuck me slowly,” he said in admiration. “Hey Karyn, look who’s here!”
Karyn peeped around the corner and yelped, running to hug Rose. They hugged each other fiercely for a bit.
“Did you get to see him?” Karyn asked softly. Rose nodded into her neck. “Was it awful?”
Rose pulled away. She nodded again. “I’m going to the hospital now. Do you want to come with me?”
Marc answered her. “We’re going in a bit. You go ahead, don’t want to keep you.” Karyn handed Rose her purse and Marc opened the door. He gave her a uneven grin. “I’m gonna have to warn Orli about you when he – when he gets better.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.
“You beat the shit out of Sean and he must be twice your size. Orli ever gets into an argument with you, he better have one of his knives on him.”
Rose stared at him in dismay, remembering another time with Orlando and a knife.
“Hookay, bad joke.” Marc scrubbed his hands over his face. “We’ll see ya later, right?”
~~~
Rose was directed to another waiting room, closer to the ICU where Orlando was. It was filled with people who, from their conversation, were there for him. She spotted Sean and Amy talking to a very tall and muscular black man.
“Rosie!” Amy called out, spotting her. Rose went completely self-conscious when the entire room seemed to turn and stare at her.
Sean came to her rescue by rushing over to take her into a bear hug. His black eye had gotten worse, and Rose touched it apologetically. He grunted. “Baby, it’s the least I deserve. I wear it with pride.” He turned to the group. “Hey, everyone, this is Rosie, Orli’s girl.” Rose blushed to the roots of her hair as several people came over to make her acquaintance.
It turned out most of them were people from Robert Bloom’s firm, some even with their families. The very large black man introduced himself as Sammy.
“My mamma works in Mr. Bloom’s office with that boy every day. She loves him like one of her own and she’s pretty broken up about this business.” Sondra and Robert were with Orlando at the moment.
Rose lo at at Sean. “Has there been any change?” Sean shook his head, his face grave.
“He’s still on the respirator. The bone doctors are coming in this afternoon.”
Robert entered the waiting room with Sondra, a middle-aged but very attractive woman, his arm around her shoulder. The marks of grief were strong on her face, although she did not weep. Sammy went over to her immediately and pulled her to a chair to sit.
“Next,” Robert said to the room at large. Rose looked at Sean. “I’ve seen him already,” he whispered, a look of anguish in his eyes.
Robert caught Rose’s eye. smiling, but she noticed the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked like he had barely slept, if at all. He cocked his head, beckoning to her. <>
<>
“I’ll wait till everyone else has had a turn,” she said.
~~~
Rose walked up to the slab where Orlando lay exactly the same as he’d lain the night before. There was a stool on his left side which she perched on. She took his limp long-fingered hand and looked at him for a long time in silence. The machines beeped, the respirator whooshed, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically. His body was there, but no one was home. He was like a living corpse. Rose shuddered.
Robert, standing on Orlando’s other side, looked at her sympathetically. “The doctors tell me that some coma patients can hear when you speak to them. Orli’s coma is not too deep, so he can most likely understand us, even though he can’t respond.”
e loe looked up at him. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell him something that will make him want to come back to us.” Robert grimaced and his eyes shifted to Orlando’s peaceful face. “Tell him what’s in your heart, Rose.“
What’s in my heart’ Rose scrunched her eyes against the tears that threatened. Tell him of my fear of the future? My grief at the loss of what might have been?
“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit, do you mind?” Robert asked quietly. “I’m dead on my feet and I need a wee break.”
“Of course! You should go sleep –“
Robert reached across and placed his hand over hers and Orlando’s. “I know you’ll take good care of him.”
~~~
Rose caressed his arm slowly. His skin, though cool, was silky soft and covered in a dusting of white-blond hair. She picked up his hand and examined it closely. She stroked the slender fingers, the short clipped nails, the smooth palm, calloused from aikido and kendo, the blue veins on the back. It was a strong, sensitive hand, familiar with hard work. She brought it up to her cheek, caressed herself with it and kissed the center of the palm.
She couldn’t help but admire the sculpted muscle of his upper arms, shoulders and chest, remembering when he had held her tight against them. He looked like a Greek statue, smooth pale skin like marble. She could tell he was completely nude under the thin blanket and closed her eyes and turned away from the temptation to look. She was pierced by the recollection of his arousal pressed against her at the park. Rose shuddered, and lowered her forehead to his bare shoulder and wept.
“Oh, Orlando. Don’t let this be the end,” she whispered in his ear, feeling tears slide down her face. “Please come back to me. Please give me a chance.”
She caressed his beautiful sculpted cheek with her fingertips, followed the line of his strong jaw to his bottom lip. She desperately wanted to kiss his mouth, but the horrid breathing tubes were in the way. His pale lips felt rough and cracked and Rose knew she could offer a tiny comfort. From her purse she pulled lip balm and gently rubbed the stick against his slack mouth, putting a thick coat on.
Rose lher her head in the hollow below his shoulder, with her mouth facing his ear. She listened to the steady thump of his heart and began to sing the first thing that popped in her head: a nonsense lullaby that her mother used to sing to her.
“Hush a bye, don’t you cry
Go to sleep my little baby
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little ponies
In your bed
Mamma said
Baby’s riding off to dreamland
One by one
They’ve begun
To dance and prance for little baby
Blacks and bays, dapples and grays
Running in the night
When you wake you shall have
All the pretty little ponies….”
~~~
“Well, it looks here,” Dr. Nelson said, pointing to the X-rays of Orli’s spine with a ballpoint pen, “that the trouble is T-4 and T-5. Both look fractured and displaced.” He removed his glasses and peered at Robert and Rose. “That’s why he is unable to breath on his own. His diaphragm isn’t working.”
Rose gripped Robert’s forearm and he covered her hand with his. His stomach roiled again. He knew he should probably eat something, but the idea made him nauseated.
“Is there anything that can be done?” he asked the specialist.
“We’ll do what we can, of course, and I’ve seen worse, but still the odds are he’ll never walk again.”
Robert felt that yawning chasm below his feet again. He shut his eyes and asked, “And he’ll be on a respirator as well?”
“Hmm, well, as to that, it may be the pressure of the bones and the swelling of the spinal cord that is causing the diaphragm to not receive the signals from the brain. Realigning the vertebrae may or may not help, depending on the actual damage to the cord.”
“How soon can he go into surgery?”
“I would wait another couple days for the swelling to go down a bit more. He may spontaneously regain his breathing capability on his own, as well as come out of the coma. While I understand it’s not very deep, it would be useless to perform surgery of this kind on a patient who may never wake up.”
That bald statement left them both shaken. He is going to wake up’ Robert thought. He just is, dammit.