Deathless [Legolas]

Chapter Two

"If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world."
- C. S. Lewis.

Chapter Quote: "Fuck this world."

I sat leaning against a tree a few meters away from where the group of nine camped; watching them interact with each other. I wanted to go over and scream at them for acting so casually when I was in so much distress. I still didn't really believe; I was hoping that I would wake up, that this would all just be some cruel dream.

I wanted a do-ever.

I wanted to wake up in my warm bed to Serena calling my name from our kitchen.

I wanted to see my best friends.

God, what was I going to do without Serena or Jessica?

I felt tears prickle the corners of my eyes again, but blinked them back. I've already cried, and crying will do nothing to help me now.

This was fucked up.

The whole situation was fucked with a capital fucking 'F'.

I sighed heavily as I brought my knees to my chest and burrowed my head down into my coat, and stuffed my hands into my pockets. I was still sad; I was grieving the loss of my friends and my world, but anger had replaced most of that sadness. I was pissed at everyone and everything. I just wanted to scream; to let all these pent up emotions out, but I withheld.

With my mind not clouded so much by grief, I thought through my situation.

I was still angry at Gandalf, but even more so at these 'Valar' things. They didn't have to listen to the old fool's request, because everything works out fine in the end, but they did. If they were all mighty beings, wouldn't they have known that this 'quest' was a story, a movie, where I was from? Wouldn't they have known how it ended?

I wasn't needed here.

I wasn't supposed to be here.

It was all messed up and defied the laws of nature.

I wanted to hate all of them, I really, really did. But Gandalf was right; he didn't know. The Valar did, so they were really the ones to blame. And I did blame them. How dare they bring me here? How dare they rip me from my friends, the people I consider my family, and put me here? If the car hitting me didn't kill me, then something here was going to. I wasn't going to survive this; surely they knew that?

But all this contemplation achieved nothing, because I knew I wasn't getting back to my home. I was stuck here. I was dead in my world, wasn't I? Was there a body to go back to even if they could send me home? Would I just be a lingering spirit in my world if the Valar somehow managed to some me back?