Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Sleeping Beauty	By : SilentNiobe Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 6613 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
Author Note: I have a small break before going back to PhD applications, so I decided to post this chapter. I love reading your reviews, thank you so much for all your support! :-) I am already working on the next one, so it should be up some time soon... I have a feeling you are really going to enjoy it! *wink*
Disclaimer: See Prologue.
italics: thoughts
Chapter 20 – Poison
You will have to die.
The words kept repeating in her mind like a dark mantra of doom, blocking out every other thought seeking her attention. Not that she would be able to think shocked and frozen as she was. It was a good thing she had kept her hold on the cold veil of numbing disappointment; how not surprising that the story would end with her dying.
“… Which is why the wizard has thought of a plan B, right?” she heard Johan ask with a nervous laugh, but the face of the old man was solemn.
“This is plan B,” he replied.
“To kill my cousin?” Johan said with a hard voice. “What about plan C?”
“If there was another way, you think I would not have told you by now?” Mr. Greyham said, looking a little exasperated by the young man’s behavior. “Besides, nobody is going to kill Alice. It’s all about timing.”
“Would you mind elaborating a little on that? ‘Cause this is the part where I might get a little overprotective,” Johan said with a warning tone, something which the old man seemed to find amusing.
“Legolas was able to reach Alice in her dreams, because he is an elf and elves have the ability to visit mortals in their dreams. However Alice is not an elf and she no more has the benefits of her shared bond with Legolas to reach him in any way,” Mr. Greyham started explaining. “A mortal can visit another person in their dreams only when he or she is dying; it is the only way they can find themselves in the realm of dreams: right between the world of the living and that of the dead.”
Alice was following the conversation silently. When her mind realized where Mr. Greyham’s explanation was heading, she managed to hush the mantra and make her frozen lips move.
“So I will need to be dying, but not actually die,” she pointed out with a flat voice, not quite relieved by the fact.
“Exactly,” Mr. Greyham told her nodding slowly. “There is a poison that weakens the body to the point of death, but does so very slowly.”
“You want to poison her??”
Johan’s outburst irritated the old man this time, whose glare made the American actually shrink back like a scolded child.
“Nobody wants to poison her, Mr. Sanders, she brought this upon herself.”
Alice lowered her eyes at Mr. Greyham’s words, her mind unconsciously travelling back to that dreadful night; the pain of her mistake would never cease to haunt her. Even though his words confirmed something she already knew, it still ate her inside that Legolas had displayed his love and truth so obviously before her and yet she had still refused to see it; her stubborn, blind logic had refused to listen to her heart… It wasn’t the elf who had broken the spell, but she; after all, she was the one who had asked him to leave her alone. Stupid, childish, stubborn, cold-hearted bitch! the little voice screamed inside her mind after being silent for so long.
“If I give her the poison one week before the full moon, she will have enough time to reach Legolas and fix their broken bond and remain alive to take the antidote,” Mr. Greyham spoke again.
“Very glad to hear the word ‘antidote’”, Johan said letting out a relieved sigh. “I assume you already have it, then?”
“I don’t,” the grey-haired said with a smile neither of them could read. “It’s inside the castle.”
Confusion was evident in both cousins’ features. Mr. Greyham put down his pipe and smiled.
“She will have to drink Legolas’ blood.”
Tic.
Tac.
Tic.
Tac.
Tic.
Tac.
The sound of the clock ticking on the wall was deafening in the silence that ensued. Occasionally, Mr. Greyham would blow out his smoke, but no breath was audible from the two Americans who stood pale and frozen, like two marble statues, their eyes staring without blinking at the old man.
“Just to clear up something…”, Johan’s voice broke in a high pitch like that of a boy in puberty and he cleared his throat to find his normal tone back. “‘Elf’ is not a euphemism for ‘vampire’, is it…?”
Mr. Greyham’s chuckles gradually turned into a roaring laughter. Alice glared at him. Has he lost his freakin’ mind?? He was asking her to drink blood, BLOOD, for God’s sake, and he was laughing like a maniac?? She swallowed the bile that had risen up her throat just at the thought of blood’s coppery taste and stinging smell and tried to take a few calming breaths. She couldn’t even stand the sight of blood, let alone drink it!
“Bless you my boy, I have not laughed so much in years!” the old man finally said, as his laughter died down. “I assure you, there are no vampires. At least not the ones you have in mind.”
“Like there are no elves and magic, right?” Johan retorted.
“There have been a lot of things in this world; a lot of creatures. Some of them were good and some of them were evil. Elves were the Firstborns of Illuvatar, creatures of the light who awoke Middle Earth long before Men came to be. And if you should trust one of those elves with your cousin’s life, it would be Legolas.”
Alice dropped her face in her hands closing her eyes. She could not fight the nausea. She would never be able to do it, drink Legolas’ blood. She was weak and a coward, she could never be Alysse who ran into a burning house to save her father! After all the hardships Legolas had been through for her, she could not do this little thing. Perhaps the nausea was not because of the thought of her drinking blood, but because of how much she hated herself at the moment. I must be the only person in world history fearing the antidote more than the poison, she thought disgusted.
“I can’t do this,” she suddenly said.
The two men in the room turned to look at her.
“Alice, you don’t have to take the poison…-“
“I’m not afraid of the freakin’ poison, I cannot stand the blood!” she snapped at her cousin.
“Why does she have to drink the elf’s blood in the first place?”
Johan squeezed Alice’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her and looked expectantly at Mr. Greyham.
“Elves are immortal. Their blood can fight the death of this poison.”
“So can’t we just make a transfusion or something?”
“She has to drink it.” The old man’s voice held no room for argument. There was no other way.
The tears Alice had been fighting to keep for the past few minutes finally spilt out. She felt Johan pull her into his arms, but she didn’t look up. She was so ashamed of herself. She could not look into her cousin’s eyes, or that of Mr. Greyham, afraid they would see the depth of her cowardice; of her betrayal to the man she loved.
“Alice,” Mr. Greyham’s voice was softer this time, “You are a strong woman. I know you will make the sacrifices needed when the time arrives.”
“Why do you all have so much faith in me?”
Her outburst caught both men off guard.
“I am not Alysse! I am not her, can you not see it? I can never be her and I can never be the woman Legolas deserves!”
“But you are, my dear. Your heart has already decided.”
Another cryptic smile. Johan could not figure out what was bothering him so much about this man.
“How do you know?”
He watched with rising curiosity as Mr. Greyham put his pipe down and got off the couch. Without a word, he walked into the other room and came back a few minutes later holding a strange-looking white staff. Smiling, he stood before them.
“Because of this.”
Johan barely had time to cover Alice with his body, as the old man’s staff gave out a blinding light, their skin tingling with the electricity that spread in the air of the room. It took them both a while to clear the black spots from their vision, but eventually Johan managed to open his eyes and take a look at the sight before him.
“Dude.”
And that was the end of any intelligent contribution on his part; his brain blocked completely.
Alice could not believe her eyes. She had witnessed magic before, but this was just… impossible. The old man had become even older; his hair was white and spilling over his shoulder and he had grown a long, white beard. If not for the same sparkling eyes, she would have mistaken him for someone else. She could not help but stare at him as he gathered his white robes and sat back on the couch, his right hand still holding the staff.
“You are a wizard,” she managed to say.
“I am THE wizard,” he replied and his eyes betrayed a smile.
Alice’s jaw dropped in surprise. Finally everything made perfect sense.
“You are the wizard from the myth!” she whispered with wonder. “You are the one who told the farmer the story of the Enchanted Prince!”
“I had to make sure the myth would be passed on to the next generations. So I had the farmer write it down and then hid it in that monastery where I thought it would be safe. Story-telling, you see, has made the myth reach you almost completely altered... but ‘scripta manent’.”
“But how did you… I don’t understand… you… How did you know who to give the manuscript to? How did you know I would visit Professor Bianci?” the red-head stuttered.
The wizard shook his head with mirth.
“My dear child, I have been serving the Valars’ will for longer than I can remember. Surely the White Wizard would know the right way to move the pawns on this board, wouldn’t he?”
The eyes of the old man twinkled as he spoke. Alice knew she had heard that name before… But where…-
“You were part of the Fellowship too… You are Gandalf!”
The wizard nodded. Alice shook her head, amazed at the fact that standing in front of her in flesh and bones was a part of the legendary Fellowship of the Ring… someone who had lived for millennia… someone who had experienced history first-hand, someone who probably held the key to all the great secrets of humanity…
“What have you been doing all these years? I can’t even imagine…” she trailed off.
“Hiding, mostly,” the wizard told her as his eyes scanned the walls and shelves with his collected antiques. “Staying in one place for too long would have caused suspicion; which is why I had to put you in all this trouble to find me, I’m afraid. I met Constance, the woman who gave you this address in Paris, when she was a young woman and as she got older and I was still the same, she started to notice.”
“So you have been wandering Earth all this time…,” Alice said more to herself than to the wizard. “But why did you stay? Did you know from the beginning I would come seeking for your help?”
The wizard’s features grew sad.
“I could not leave even if I wanted to. It is the price I had to pay to save Legolas from fading. Only when you are reunited can I return to Valinor,” he explained.
And here I am fearing a little blood, Alice thought with embarrassment.
“Why did you do it?”
Gandalf did not reply, but took her hands in his. Her breath came out in a hiss as a flood of images and emotions hit her.
Gandalf walked in a deserted palace, the sound of his steps echoing too loud in the silence and stillness of the place. The yellow leaves fallen with the autumn wind littered the rooms and the hallways and he couldn’t help but frown at the state of the building… which unfortunately spoke of the state of his dear friend. He leaned heavily on his staff as he made his way to his chambers, his face fallen in sadness. The wizard reached the great oaken door, left open in an uncaring way and walked into the large room. The terrace doors were open and the dead leaves had covered the floor, but the owner did not seem to care. The yellowish grey sky of the gloomy afternoon gave the nature around him a tint of death and decay. The wizard stilled for a moment and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the site that would greet him. He turned around towards the bed then, facing once more the destroying power of love. The Prince of Mirkwood lay on his bed with one knee bended and his face slightly turned towards the balcony, where he stared with an unfocused gaze. His golden hair was unbraided and laid on his pillow in all their glory, but it had lost its shine; as his skin had lost its characteristic glow. It was not Legolas before him, but a shadow of the once proud warrior.
Alice gasped as the image suddenly disappeared and she found herself back in the wizard’s house in York. She was surprised as a drop fell on her knee and reached her face with her fingers to realize it was a tear. She turned her eyes at the wizard, her heart bleeding with every beat at what she had seen.
“No one deserves such a fate. Especially not Legolas,” he told her in a soft voice and she nodded in understanding.
She had felt Legolas’ pain. Just for a few seconds and it had knocked her breath out of her chest. But the actual picture of him fading… She never thought the Prince could ever look so fragile, so vulnerable… so destroyed. All because of her. Gandalf shared a memory, to show her why he had done his sacrifice. Now it was time for hers.
“What do I have to do?”
“Go back to Germany. Make sure Andrea finds the rings. I will meet you there in one week.”
“Wait, wait!”
Alice turned around surprised to hear her cousin’s voice again and found Johan fully recovered from his shock.
“How do we know you’re a real wizard? This could have been some sort of a trick… I mean, David Copperfield can do stuff like that…” he shrugged.
The wizard raised an eyebrow.
“Would you like me to turn you into a frog and find out?”
Johan decided to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps proof was not really necessary.
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