Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: The World that Was (#98)
Author: TerriViv
Chapters: 1

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Alternate Universe (AU)
Description: 21st c. reporter gets interview of the millenia: a cushy one-on-one interview with Legolas at his summer home on Tol Eressea.
Published: 27 Jun 2003
Updated: 27 Jun 2003
Warnings:
Type: General
Characters: Legolas


Chapter 1 - The World that Was

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The World that Was
February 2003
Tol Eressea, Valinor
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“This device records my voice?” the elf asked, tapping my tape recorder with one long finger.

“Yeah. You just talk into it, like so,” I replied, making sure I was facing the machine straight-on when I spoke. Then I rewound the tape and played it for him. He seemed fascinated by simple electronics, despite the wonder of magic that surrounded him.

We reclined on a beach on the Tol Eressea, facing east and sipping fruity cocktails with some marvelous sort of orange-cream whipped topping. The Pelori towered behind us, and if I turned around and looked through my binoculars, I could just make out the Calacirya and the far spires of Tirion. But I wasn’t allowed on the mainland. My magazine had gone through enough hell to arrange even this simple interview. It wasn’t every day that Valinor granted a visitor visa, and I was determined to make this one count.

I rewound the tape again and pressed Record.

The elf flashed a knee-weakening blue-eyed glance over the top of his sunglasses. He smiled.

“You have such lovely toys,” he murmured.

His moonlight-on-water voice made me just about whimper. Wow; JRR wasn’t kidding when he said these guys made music every time they opened their mouths.

“I could say the same for you,” I replied, nodding back over my shoulder, toward the lavish cliffside home he shared with some other woodland elves. A long staircase of mother-of-pearl edged with overflowing flower pots connected the house to the beach. It was breathtakingly beautiful, like just about everything here in Valinor.

But it wasn’t just the house I was thinking about: on the quick jog through the house and down the stairs, I’d seen things I would never be able to forget: fantastic weapons on delicate pedestals, gems that glowed from the inside out, tapestries that changed colors as I passed… so many wonderous things, all imbued with magic and legend. Just one of those items would set the mortal world on its ears.

“Ah. You refer to our artistic works,” the elf said mildly. “Those are about beauty more than function.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “The stories say a lot about how *functional* the bow of the Galadhrim was during the War of the Ring.”

“Do they? I must confess that I have not read these tales.”

I was stunned. He was one of the heroes, hailed throughout the mortal world for his aid in saving the world of men. And he didn’t realize it, didn’t even know that *The Lord of the Rings* existed?

“They are well-known back on Earth… or, er, Middle-earth, as you’d call it. In fact, the recent discovery of the Red Book of Westmarch, and its publication and film adaptation, are why I’m here. There just isn’t a lot of information about you; you’re sort of a mystery. I mean, they weren’t even sure what color your hair is.” Now I knew, of course. It was the color of first dawn, bright as liquid silver over his shoulders, down his back.

He reclined in his soft divan, propping one long leg on the scrolled edge. The black fur upholstery was a striking contrast to his pale skin and hair. He almost glowed in the gathering twilight. I shifted a little in my own deep, oversoft chair and checked the volume on the recorder between us.

“What do they say about me?” he asked, sliding his sunglasses off for good now. He set them on the low table near the recorder. His eyes scanned the eastern horizon, which was already purpling at the close of day.

“They call you the friend of dwarves, the last elf born in Middle-earth. They tell how you killed the mount of the Nazgul and fought at Pelennor and Morannon. They say that you stayed after and restored the beauty to Ithilien – now a part of a land called Italy – and that you and Gimli waited until the last of the Fellowship passed, and then you sailed West.”

His face grew wistful.

“All that they say is true,” he said. I waited, sensing that he would continue. After a long silence he did. “But they omit so much, it seems. Tell me, Susan, what color are the trees in the north?”

“Brown,” I said. “With green leaves.” This was elementary stuff, and I was puzzled by his question.

“I recall a time when leaves were gold,” he said. “The tales cannot reveal all that was lost in your world. Nor how very much I miss it.” His voice caught, and I could almost hear tears in it, though his face did not show sorrow.

“You could come back,” I said. The words surprised me; I didn’t have permission to bring an elf back from Valinor. Their authorities would have a cow. Not to mention… Earth would eat him alive. He was peace and light and beauty… the modern world of men had no place for such a being.

He turned his head and gazed at me. I had been right before: his eyes glowed. He smiled softly.

“How kind of you to invite me, Susan. But you know that I cannot return. The age of elves has passed in Middle-earth, even for those of my people who remain there. But come, you did not travel all the way here to talk about the color of leaves. What would you know of me?”

I had a whole stack of index cards pre-printed with questions for this elf: What was his mother’s name? Had he a wife or children? When precisely was he born? Had he fought in the Battle of Five Armies? Did he have any brothers or sisters? I’d prepped for this assignment for months. But suddenly, none of those questions seemed at all important.

“Tell me more about the world that was,” I said at last, setting the index cards aside.

He talked until the night set in and the stars rose above us. I could have listened to his voice forever.

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When I woke to the bright sun and glorious colors of the sky, I was lying on a bed of gold. The sheets were of the softest material I had ever felt. How had I gotten here?

Rising up on one elbow, I found the subject of my dreams sitting beside me, an enigmatic smile on his lips.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, that melodic voice washing over me again.

“Yes, thank you.”

My eyes locked with those beautiful blue ones. He moved closer to me, and I did not have time to think of what I must look like to him. His long fingers curled in my hair, stroking it as if I were a pet. My heart hammered inside my chest.

“Stay with me, Susan,” he murmured.

“I can't. I have to leave by sunset today.”

His eyes flashed in disappointment. “And if I were to take care of that? Would you stay?”

A battle waged inside of me. My silence bothered him, I could see, so I took a deep breath and prayed the right answer came out.

“Yes.”

His smile brightened. “Good. I wish for you to tell me about the world that is.”

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Fin.
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