Getting Comfortable
A/N: Disclaimers in first chapter. As I mentioned in the disclaimers, there were many song lyrics in the first version of this story. While the song lyrics are no longer a part of the story, I do discuss, paraphrase and otherwise use songs as part of the story. One of the songs used in this chapter is 'Live Like You Were Dying' and it is performed by Tim McGraw. I don't have any rights to the song.
Chapter Two - Getting Comfortable
Aragorn approached the end of his day with a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation. His discussion with Arwen had not led to any firm conclusions, they did not know if his experiences had been real or merely a dream. However, even with no proof, Aragorn was convinced that he had been conversing with his distant granddaughter. Though he had only briefly met her, he had come to care about what happened to her; she was his kin, distant though the relation was. He had to admit that he was afraid of going to sleep and not dreaming of her again. If this had been their only contact, he would never know whether she had lived, or died from the injuries she must surely have sustained. He did not like that thought.
He quickly got ready for bed and let Arwen take care of Eldarion. Arwen was back before he was able to fall asleep. He shifted to look at Arwen as she joined him in bed.
"Are you still awake, then?" Arwen asked, snuggling close to his side.
"I am having difficulty falling asleep," Aragorn admitted.
"I could always make one of Ada's teas," Arwen said with a laugh.
"No, I thank you for your kind offer, but I believe I will decline," Aragorn said with a mock frown on his face. Lord Elrond had frequently used medicinal teas to put him to sleep whenever he was injured, but he had never liked the teas, and would always avoid them if given a choice.
Arwen placed her hand gently on his cheek. "Close your eyes, Aragorn. If you wish to sleep, you must first relax, clear your mind of all your thoughts and concerns."
Aragorn followed her advice and soon found himself drifting between the waking world and sleep. He let go and relaxed completely, falling swiftly to sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself back on the beach. A smile crossed his face as he turned to look for Lauren; a smile that faded as he found the beach deserted. Where was she? A momentary panic struck him at the thought that she had died and left this dream world. Just then, he heard a sound and looked out over the water. There was a floating raft that had not been there the time before. The raft was some distance out and a strange sound was drifting across the water from it. Despite the odd sound, the raft also appeared empty. After a moment of watching, he saw an arm break the surface of the water and come to rest on the raft. The arm was quickly followed by another, and Aragorn gave a sigh of relief as Lauren pulled herself easily out of the water and onto the raft.
"Lauren!" He called her name to get her attention.
She turned around to look in his direction and waved to acknowledge him. Aragorn watched as she dove cleanly into the water and swam toward him with strong, sure strokes. When she reached the shallows, she stood up and walked through the waves to stand in front of him. Pushing her wet hair back out of her face, she smiled at him.
"You came back. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
"I was concerned about you," Aragorn said. He was trying intently to keep his gaze focused on her face and not drift to the vast amounts of skin that her clothing showed.
"That's really sweet," she said with a soft smile. Lauren noticed that he was avoiding looking at her and laughed softly. She walked over to her chair and picked up a towel, quickly dried herself off, and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. "Does this suit your sense of modesty enough? Because it's really too warm for anything else."
"That will be fine," Aragorn said. "I could not help noticing that you are a very strong swimmer."
"I should be," she remarked. "I spent most of my childhood in very warm climates. During the summer, I spent as much time as possible in the water, either at the beach or a swimming pool. My mom once told me I was part fish. You know, from that day on, I haven't been able to eat seafood of any kind." She laughed lightly, chuckling at herself.
Aragorn looked back toward the raft. "Where did the raft come from? And I believe you were wearing different clothes when first we met."
"Yes, I am. Pretty observant for a guy who blushes every time he looks at me." Aragorn gave her a mock glare, but she was totally unaffected by it, and simply grinned, tilting her head to the side as she studied him. "I'm sorry for laughing about this, but you have to know that your reaction is a bit of a novelty for me. Most guys I know upon seeing a woman in a swimsuit would react quite a bit differently, or wouldn't react at all. Though honestly, I think I would find that non-reaction a bit disappointing. But moving on to your question, the raft and new clothes are all my doing."
"How is that your doing?" Aragorn asked, ignoring her earlier comments and accepting the change in subject.
"Well, after you left, I started getting a little bored. I mean even paradise gets boring if you don't have someone to share it with. So, I started thinking that I really would like a radio to listen to. Even if I don't have someone to interact with, I could at least listen to music, and it wouldn't seem so lonely. As soon as I thought that, a radio appeared. So it appears that I can affect my surroundings and control what I experience. Pretty cool, huh?" Lauren waved her arm toward the raft to emphasize her point.
Aragorn shook his head, not understanding some of her phrasing. "Cool?"
"It means a good thing. When I say something is pretty cool, it means that I like it." A casual shrug followed her explanation.
"Oh," Aragorn said, his brow furrowed in confusion. He failed to see how the word cool related to the idea of liking something.
"You'll have to forgive me," Lauren said. "Our culture uses a lot of slang words, words that are understood within the culture, but may be incomprehensible to others. If I use a phrase that you don't understand, just ask."
"Very well," Aragorn said nodding his head once. He was beginning to think their cultures differed in more ways than he could have imagined. Remembering an earlier question he had, he decided to ask. "So, what is a radio?"
She grinned. Looking over to a shaded area, she waved a hand dramatically and a table with two wicker chairs appeared. Lauren looked back at the raft, and the sound that had been in the background suddenly stopped, only to start again as an object appeared on the table. "Would you care to come see for yourself?" she asked him, walking over to stand next to the table.
Aragorn stared at the object in horror. It was emitting sounds like he had never before heard. It sounded like an army of orcs was approaching, bellowing and stomping and trying to make the worst noise they could. He put his hands over his ears and gave her a pained look. "What is that horrible noise?"
"Hey!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. "There's no need to be insulting. That's music, or more specifically, a band called Guns & Roses. They were popular about 10 to 15 years ago. I realize you've probably never heard music like this, but I happen to like it."
"You call that music?" Aragorn asked, cautiously taking his hands from his ears. "Someone is screaming."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, just a little bit. It's all part of the song, though." She reached over and turned the radio down. "I'm sorry if it was a bit overwhelming. I like my music loud, but I should have realized that you probably wouldn't appreciate it. And that type of music doesn't really appeal to everyone."
Now that the sound had lessened, Aragorn approached the table cautiously. "Where is the sound coming from? I see no musicians, or this band you mentioned." Aragorn did not quite know the word band, but from her context, he assumed it meant a grouping of musicians.
A small smile played on Lauren's face as she watched Aragorn inspect the radio. "I don't know all the details of how it works, but I can tell you that the musicians perform in a special room, and the music is recorded on either magnetic tape or on CD's with a concentrated beam of light called a laser. The music is then played back and transmitted over radio waves, which are picked up by the antenna and sent to the speakers." When she finished, she noticed the blank look on Aragorn's face. "Too much?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in inquiry.
"I thought you said you did not know the details of how it worked," Aragorn said slowly, staring at her.
"I don't," Lauren said with a wry grin. "That was pretty much a general overview, but I'll admit that understanding even that much requires quite a bit of modern technical knowledge. I'll try to avoid any more technical explanations. Suffice it to say that what the radio plays has been recorded from an earlier performance."
"That explanation will do well enough," Aragorn allowed. "Do you mind if we make it stop?" He did not want to be insulting, but he could not stand much more of that noise.
She chuckled again and reached over to turn the radio off. She sat down at the table and gestured for Aragorn to take the other chair. "Would you like some fresh squeezed lemonade?" At that, two glasses appeared in front of them, and Lauren picked hers up and took a long drink before placing it back on the table. "There's nothing better on a hot summer's day than an ice cold lemonade." She leaned back in her chair and sighed contentedly.
Aragorn looked questioningly at the pieces of ice in his glass before taking an experimental sip. The flavor was very close to a favorite drink of his from his childhood, and he took a longer drink. He studied Lauren for a moment. "You seem to be remarkably cheerful. Are you always like this?"
Lauren heard the undertone in his voice. "Cheerful for someone whose life is hanging by a thread, you mean?" The smile was gone from her face now as she looked seriously back at him.
"I did not intend to upset you," Aragorn said quickly, raising a hand in a placating gesture.
"You didn't," Lauren assured him. "I had a lot of time to think while you were gone. There really wasn't much else for me to do. The lines of a song came to me and kind of struck home. The title of the song was 'Live Like You Were Dying'."
Aragorn frowned. "That does not sound like a song that would give hope or inspire one to be very cheerful."
Lauren shrugged easily. "It actually is a more hopeful song than the title would suggest. It tells the story of a man who, in his early forties found out that he might have a terminal illness. The news changed the way he chose to live his life. He took the time to do all the things he had wanted to do but thought he would have time to do later. He changed the way he treated those around him, became a better husband and friend and forgave those who had hurt him in the past. The chorus of the song talks about living like each day was a gift."
She sighed and ran a hand through her now dry hair. "The world I live in is a very fast-paced one, Aragorn. Many people, myself included, get caught up in their jobs, in furthering their careers, and rushing from one thing to the next. We tend not to eat right, not to get enough sleep, and to take very little time to relax and simply enjoy our lives. We like to believe that we are in control of our lives, our destinies, but this accident has proven that to be an illusion. I don't know how things are going to happen with this, Aragorn. I have no idea if I'm going to wake up in the next few minutes, or never wake up again. I know this realm isn't reality, but I intend to enjoy my time here and do the things I may never have another chance to do." She looked around at the white sands and the sunlight gleaming on the waves. "And even in my normal life, it was a rare occasion that I was able to just relax on a beautiful beach like this."
"Should you not be trying to find a way to wake up, to get back to your life?" Aragorn could understand what the song was trying to say, but he didn't think the sentiment applied in this case. "As you said, this place is not reality. You cannot change the way you interact with the people in your life while you are here. To truly affect how you live your life, you must actually be living your life, not residing in some dream world." Aragorn leaned toward her, trying to make his point.
Lauren threw a hand up in the air. "And if I knew how to do that, I would. Do you think I haven't been trying?" Lauren's voice rose as she spoke. "As I said, after you left last time, I had a lot of time to think. I tried everything I could think of to reconnect with reality, but nothing worked. I have no desire to die, but I can't find a way to wake up. It's like there's a barrier between the two worlds that I can't cross." Her frustration with her situation was clear in her voice. "And the way I figure it, if I'm stuck here, I might as well enjoy myself. Do you have a problem with that?" The dark expression on her face made it clear that if he did have a problem with her reasoning, he would be better off to keep the opinion to himself.
Aragorn simply raised an eyebrow as he stared at her, unknowingly imitating Lord Elrond. His granddaughter seemed to have a little bit of a temper.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before dropping her head down to rest in her hands in embarrassment. After a moment of silence, she raised her head and looked up to meet Aragorn's eyes. "Forgive me. I seem to be a bit more on edge than I thought. But as beautiful as this place is, it's beginning to get to me. Not knowing what is going on is driving me crazy. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead, but that's about all I can say. I need to keep myself distracted to keep my mind from dwelling on what kind of condition my body is in. Can you help me do that?" She looked back to him with a pleading look, resting her hands on the table.
"I can try," Aragorn replied. He reached over and placed his hand over hers to let her know there were no hard feelings. "And there is nothing to forgive. This is a difficult situation for you. How do you wish me to distract you?"
She reached over and placed her other hand over his for a moment in a gesture of thanks before pulling back and settling deeper into her chair. "Tell me about your life. I have a feeling that's a pretty interesting story, and all I know at this point is that we may be related. What do you do, what was your childhood like, and where in the world did you get that beautiful sword?"
Aragorn sat back in his chair and smiled at her. "In my life, I have been a Ranger, a protector, a healer, a soldier, a Captain in an army, a tracker, a hunter, and a leader of men." Aragorn replied, thinking carefully to make sure he did not miss a role. "As for the sword, your interest surprises me. I assumed from your earlier comments that people no longer carry swords in your time."
"Oh, they don't," Lauren replied, waving a hand in the air. "Most people couldn't care less about them." Her smile widened, and the mischievous look in her eyes reminded Aragorn far too much of the twins in that moment as she continued. "But then, I'm not most people. I collect swords. I've done a lot of traveling, and have collected interesting swords from several different countries." Her eyes drifted down to Aragorn's side where Anduril hung in its sheath. "But not even in museums have I seen a sword like the one you carry. I don't think it's like even exists in my world."
Aragorn smiled at her. "There is no sword like it even in Middle-earth. The sword I carry is Andúril, Flame of the West, the sword of Elendil re-forged by the elves of Rivendell."
Lauren had been about to ask Aragorn to tell her the full story of the sword when a certain word caught her attention. She stared at him for a moment before she was able to say a word. "Elves?"
Aragorn heard the disbelief in her voice, and understood her confusion. "You have never seen an elf, have you? They were beginning to leave the shores of Middle-earth in my time. There are probably none left in your time. But yes, I come from a time when elves still walked the land."
Lauren stared at him in confusion. "You're pulling my leg, here. I just don't get the joke."
"What?" Aragorn asked, confused by her reaction and her words. "I have not touched your leg."
"It means you're kidding me, but I just don't see why." Lauren was shaking her head slowly as she tried to figure out the joke.
"Why would you think I was kidding?" Aragorn asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched her.
"Because elves aren't real. They don't exist." The tone of voice Lauren used made it quite clear that she believed her words and thought anyone who believed otherwise to be delusional.
"I can assure you, they do." Aragorn tried to convince her of the truth of his words.
"No, they don't." Lauren's expression was growing darker as she became frustrated.
"Yes, they do." Aragorn kept his voice calm, but he was beginning to become frustrated as well with her stubborn refusal to believe him.
Lauren shook her head as their conversation reverted to sounding like it was occurring between two children. Arguing that way would accomplish nothing. "Everyone knows elves are only a myth. They occur in fantasy, in children's tales, but they were never real. Elves are no more real than dragons." Lauren waved a hand in dismissal of the very idea.
Aragorn spoke slowly, trying to convince Lauren he was speaking the truth. "Lauren, I was raised by elves, they have been my greatest friends and allies, and my wife is an elf. Well, half-elf, at least. I can assure you that elves do in fact exist. As do dragons, though they are very rare now. Most of them have been killed." His last two comments were rather casual, as that point was not what he was trying to convince her of.
She gave him a skeptical look, crossing her arms over her chest. "Uh huh. Dragons are real, but are now extinct? I suppose you, being a great knight, helped to slay all the dragons?" She shook her head, feeling she was getting off topic. "So what do these elves look like? I'm picturing Santa's helpers or the Keebler® elves here. If you married one, I'm assuming that's not what they really look like."
Again, Aragorn had no idea what she was talking about, but he could answer her question. "In many ways, elves resemble humans very closely. They have pointed ears, and are fairer of face than humans. They have a glow about them and their voices are lyrical. Once you have seen an elf, you will never forget what they look like. They are stronger and capable of moving more quickly than any human. They have great wisdom, and they are immortal." Aragorn leaned forward in concern. "Are tales of them not told in your world?"
Lauren shook her head at his words. "Like I said, just tales of fantasy and legend. I don't know if I even believe you. I've known all my life that elves were not real, and now someone in a dream tells me they were. I think I'll need a little more proof than that."
Aragorn sighed. Her skepticism may be difficult to overcome. She was proving to be just as stubborn as everyone else in his family. "You and I are proof. My bloodline was descended from elves, and since I married Arwen, you are also descended from elves."
She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief, and for a moment, Aragorn was reminded very strongly of Lord Elrond. Even if she did not believe him, Aragorn knew with certainty that she was descended from the house of Elrond. No one else would be able to look so much like him. He sighed and spoke again. "It seems that much of your heritage has been lost in the mists of time. Would you like to hear the tales that I was told as a child? I can tell you the story of Arda's creation, the awakening of the First and Second People, and the many ages that passed before my time."
She shrugged, but her curiosity was now piqued. "I'm always up for a good story. But this sounds like a long one. Let me get more comfortable." She looked off to the side, and a covered platform appeared with two soft plush armchairs and a small table between them. She stood up and grabbed her glass, heading toward the more comfortable chairs. "Are you coming?"
Aragorn stood up and followed her, taking his own drink with him. As they made themselves comfortable, Lauren pulled her feet up in the chair and tucked them underneath her. She turned her full attention to Aragorn. "I'm ready. Tell me a story, Grandpa?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and Aragorn couldn't help but notice how young she looked.
"Very well," Aragorn said, inclining his head toward her. "It all began with music; the music of the Ainur." Aragorn told her of how the music of the Ainur created Arda and all upon its surface. He spoke of Melkor and his uprising against Ilúvatar, and of the coming of the Firstborn of the Children of Ilúvatar, the elves. Aragorn talked for many hours, telling Lauren a somewhat condensed version of the history of Middle-earth. He told her of all the wondrous creatures that existed there, dwarfs and ents, dragons and balrogs. She listened with rapt attention, her eyes never leaving his face. She was as caught up in the stories as Aragorn was. Her face echoed the horror he had felt the first time he had heard the stories of the Silmarils and the kinslaying on the shores of Valinor, at Alqualondë. While he could not tell her every detail, he managed to get in the story of the awakening of the humans, the fall of Gondolin, the tale of Beren and Lúthien, and most of the details of Elrond and Elros' bloodline. He described the defeat of Morgoth, the founding of Númenor with Elros as the first Númenórean king, and skimmed over the long list of kings of the Númenórean line. He had just finished the tale of Isildur's refusal to destroy the one ring after he had cut it off of Sauron's hand when he realized that he was beginning to fade away again.
Lauren smiled at him as he began to leave the dream realm. "I'll expect you to finish that story tomorrow."
"Make sure you are still here when I arrive tomorrow," Aragorn said. He was still worried that she might not be here when he came back.
She smiled at his concern. "Don't worry. I'll be here. I'm not going to die. Not until I know how that story ends, anyway. And since it doesn't look like I'll be waking up anytime soon, I'll see you tomorrow," she said as he faded completely away.
Aragorn opened his eyes to see the sun shining through the windows of his chambers. He looked over to see Arwen sitting on the edge of the bed watching him. "Did you see her?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Aragorn said. "And I am sure of it now. She is our granddaughter. She is every bit as stubborn as Eldarion." He sat up in the bed and ran a hand tiredly through his hair.
"What was she being stubborn about?" Arwen asked.
"She did not believe that elves were real," Aragorn responded with a glint of humor in his eyes.
"I hope you were able to convince her otherwise," Arwen replied with a smile on her lips.
"I was trying," Aragorn said. "I was telling her the history of Middle-earth and our peoples when I began to wake up. I will simply have to finish telling the tale when I return tonight."
"So you plan to return?" Arwen asked.
"Until she awakes, yes. She needs someone to keep her company. She told me that she was getting lonely there by herself. I cannot simply abandon her." Aragorn waved his hand in emphasis.
"I would not expect you to. But do you think you will be able to return as often as you wish?" Arwen was afraid that he might be getting his hopes up and that he might not be able to return.
"I do not know. All I can do is try."
Chapter Two - Getting Comfortable
Aragorn approached the end of his day with a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation. His discussion with Arwen had not led to any firm conclusions, they did not know if his experiences had been real or merely a dream. However, even with no proof, Aragorn was convinced that he had been conversing with his distant granddaughter. Though he had only briefly met her, he had come to care about what happened to her; she was his kin, distant though the relation was. He had to admit that he was afraid of going to sleep and not dreaming of her again. If this had been their only contact, he would never know whether she had lived, or died from the injuries she must surely have sustained. He did not like that thought.
He quickly got ready for bed and let Arwen take care of Eldarion. Arwen was back before he was able to fall asleep. He shifted to look at Arwen as she joined him in bed.
"Are you still awake, then?" Arwen asked, snuggling close to his side.
"I am having difficulty falling asleep," Aragorn admitted.
"I could always make one of Ada's teas," Arwen said with a laugh.
"No, I thank you for your kind offer, but I believe I will decline," Aragorn said with a mock frown on his face. Lord Elrond had frequently used medicinal teas to put him to sleep whenever he was injured, but he had never liked the teas, and would always avoid them if given a choice.
Arwen placed her hand gently on his cheek. "Close your eyes, Aragorn. If you wish to sleep, you must first relax, clear your mind of all your thoughts and concerns."
Aragorn followed her advice and soon found himself drifting between the waking world and sleep. He let go and relaxed completely, falling swiftly to sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself back on the beach. A smile crossed his face as he turned to look for Lauren; a smile that faded as he found the beach deserted. Where was she? A momentary panic struck him at the thought that she had died and left this dream world. Just then, he heard a sound and looked out over the water. There was a floating raft that had not been there the time before. The raft was some distance out and a strange sound was drifting across the water from it. Despite the odd sound, the raft also appeared empty. After a moment of watching, he saw an arm break the surface of the water and come to rest on the raft. The arm was quickly followed by another, and Aragorn gave a sigh of relief as Lauren pulled herself easily out of the water and onto the raft.
"Lauren!" He called her name to get her attention.
She turned around to look in his direction and waved to acknowledge him. Aragorn watched as she dove cleanly into the water and swam toward him with strong, sure strokes. When she reached the shallows, she stood up and walked through the waves to stand in front of him. Pushing her wet hair back out of her face, she smiled at him.
"You came back. I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
"I was concerned about you," Aragorn said. He was trying intently to keep his gaze focused on her face and not drift to the vast amounts of skin that her clothing showed.
"That's really sweet," she said with a soft smile. Lauren noticed that he was avoiding looking at her and laughed softly. She walked over to her chair and picked up a towel, quickly dried herself off, and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. "Does this suit your sense of modesty enough? Because it's really too warm for anything else."
"That will be fine," Aragorn said. "I could not help noticing that you are a very strong swimmer."
"I should be," she remarked. "I spent most of my childhood in very warm climates. During the summer, I spent as much time as possible in the water, either at the beach or a swimming pool. My mom once told me I was part fish. You know, from that day on, I haven't been able to eat seafood of any kind." She laughed lightly, chuckling at herself.
Aragorn looked back toward the raft. "Where did the raft come from? And I believe you were wearing different clothes when first we met."
"Yes, I am. Pretty observant for a guy who blushes every time he looks at me." Aragorn gave her a mock glare, but she was totally unaffected by it, and simply grinned, tilting her head to the side as she studied him. "I'm sorry for laughing about this, but you have to know that your reaction is a bit of a novelty for me. Most guys I know upon seeing a woman in a swimsuit would react quite a bit differently, or wouldn't react at all. Though honestly, I think I would find that non-reaction a bit disappointing. But moving on to your question, the raft and new clothes are all my doing."
"How is that your doing?" Aragorn asked, ignoring her earlier comments and accepting the change in subject.
"Well, after you left, I started getting a little bored. I mean even paradise gets boring if you don't have someone to share it with. So, I started thinking that I really would like a radio to listen to. Even if I don't have someone to interact with, I could at least listen to music, and it wouldn't seem so lonely. As soon as I thought that, a radio appeared. So it appears that I can affect my surroundings and control what I experience. Pretty cool, huh?" Lauren waved her arm toward the raft to emphasize her point.
Aragorn shook his head, not understanding some of her phrasing. "Cool?"
"It means a good thing. When I say something is pretty cool, it means that I like it." A casual shrug followed her explanation.
"Oh," Aragorn said, his brow furrowed in confusion. He failed to see how the word cool related to the idea of liking something.
"You'll have to forgive me," Lauren said. "Our culture uses a lot of slang words, words that are understood within the culture, but may be incomprehensible to others. If I use a phrase that you don't understand, just ask."
"Very well," Aragorn said nodding his head once. He was beginning to think their cultures differed in more ways than he could have imagined. Remembering an earlier question he had, he decided to ask. "So, what is a radio?"
She grinned. Looking over to a shaded area, she waved a hand dramatically and a table with two wicker chairs appeared. Lauren looked back at the raft, and the sound that had been in the background suddenly stopped, only to start again as an object appeared on the table. "Would you care to come see for yourself?" she asked him, walking over to stand next to the table.
Aragorn stared at the object in horror. It was emitting sounds like he had never before heard. It sounded like an army of orcs was approaching, bellowing and stomping and trying to make the worst noise they could. He put his hands over his ears and gave her a pained look. "What is that horrible noise?"
"Hey!" she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. "There's no need to be insulting. That's music, or more specifically, a band called Guns & Roses. They were popular about 10 to 15 years ago. I realize you've probably never heard music like this, but I happen to like it."
"You call that music?" Aragorn asked, cautiously taking his hands from his ears. "Someone is screaming."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, just a little bit. It's all part of the song, though." She reached over and turned the radio down. "I'm sorry if it was a bit overwhelming. I like my music loud, but I should have realized that you probably wouldn't appreciate it. And that type of music doesn't really appeal to everyone."
Now that the sound had lessened, Aragorn approached the table cautiously. "Where is the sound coming from? I see no musicians, or this band you mentioned." Aragorn did not quite know the word band, but from her context, he assumed it meant a grouping of musicians.
A small smile played on Lauren's face as she watched Aragorn inspect the radio. "I don't know all the details of how it works, but I can tell you that the musicians perform in a special room, and the music is recorded on either magnetic tape or on CD's with a concentrated beam of light called a laser. The music is then played back and transmitted over radio waves, which are picked up by the antenna and sent to the speakers." When she finished, she noticed the blank look on Aragorn's face. "Too much?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in inquiry.
"I thought you said you did not know the details of how it worked," Aragorn said slowly, staring at her.
"I don't," Lauren said with a wry grin. "That was pretty much a general overview, but I'll admit that understanding even that much requires quite a bit of modern technical knowledge. I'll try to avoid any more technical explanations. Suffice it to say that what the radio plays has been recorded from an earlier performance."
"That explanation will do well enough," Aragorn allowed. "Do you mind if we make it stop?" He did not want to be insulting, but he could not stand much more of that noise.
She chuckled again and reached over to turn the radio off. She sat down at the table and gestured for Aragorn to take the other chair. "Would you like some fresh squeezed lemonade?" At that, two glasses appeared in front of them, and Lauren picked hers up and took a long drink before placing it back on the table. "There's nothing better on a hot summer's day than an ice cold lemonade." She leaned back in her chair and sighed contentedly.
Aragorn looked questioningly at the pieces of ice in his glass before taking an experimental sip. The flavor was very close to a favorite drink of his from his childhood, and he took a longer drink. He studied Lauren for a moment. "You seem to be remarkably cheerful. Are you always like this?"
Lauren heard the undertone in his voice. "Cheerful for someone whose life is hanging by a thread, you mean?" The smile was gone from her face now as she looked seriously back at him.
"I did not intend to upset you," Aragorn said quickly, raising a hand in a placating gesture.
"You didn't," Lauren assured him. "I had a lot of time to think while you were gone. There really wasn't much else for me to do. The lines of a song came to me and kind of struck home. The title of the song was 'Live Like You Were Dying'."
Aragorn frowned. "That does not sound like a song that would give hope or inspire one to be very cheerful."
Lauren shrugged easily. "It actually is a more hopeful song than the title would suggest. It tells the story of a man who, in his early forties found out that he might have a terminal illness. The news changed the way he chose to live his life. He took the time to do all the things he had wanted to do but thought he would have time to do later. He changed the way he treated those around him, became a better husband and friend and forgave those who had hurt him in the past. The chorus of the song talks about living like each day was a gift."
She sighed and ran a hand through her now dry hair. "The world I live in is a very fast-paced one, Aragorn. Many people, myself included, get caught up in their jobs, in furthering their careers, and rushing from one thing to the next. We tend not to eat right, not to get enough sleep, and to take very little time to relax and simply enjoy our lives. We like to believe that we are in control of our lives, our destinies, but this accident has proven that to be an illusion. I don't know how things are going to happen with this, Aragorn. I have no idea if I'm going to wake up in the next few minutes, or never wake up again. I know this realm isn't reality, but I intend to enjoy my time here and do the things I may never have another chance to do." She looked around at the white sands and the sunlight gleaming on the waves. "And even in my normal life, it was a rare occasion that I was able to just relax on a beautiful beach like this."
"Should you not be trying to find a way to wake up, to get back to your life?" Aragorn could understand what the song was trying to say, but he didn't think the sentiment applied in this case. "As you said, this place is not reality. You cannot change the way you interact with the people in your life while you are here. To truly affect how you live your life, you must actually be living your life, not residing in some dream world." Aragorn leaned toward her, trying to make his point.
Lauren threw a hand up in the air. "And if I knew how to do that, I would. Do you think I haven't been trying?" Lauren's voice rose as she spoke. "As I said, after you left last time, I had a lot of time to think. I tried everything I could think of to reconnect with reality, but nothing worked. I have no desire to die, but I can't find a way to wake up. It's like there's a barrier between the two worlds that I can't cross." Her frustration with her situation was clear in her voice. "And the way I figure it, if I'm stuck here, I might as well enjoy myself. Do you have a problem with that?" The dark expression on her face made it clear that if he did have a problem with her reasoning, he would be better off to keep the opinion to himself.
Aragorn simply raised an eyebrow as he stared at her, unknowingly imitating Lord Elrond. His granddaughter seemed to have a little bit of a temper.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before dropping her head down to rest in her hands in embarrassment. After a moment of silence, she raised her head and looked up to meet Aragorn's eyes. "Forgive me. I seem to be a bit more on edge than I thought. But as beautiful as this place is, it's beginning to get to me. Not knowing what is going on is driving me crazy. I'm pretty sure I'm not dead, but that's about all I can say. I need to keep myself distracted to keep my mind from dwelling on what kind of condition my body is in. Can you help me do that?" She looked back to him with a pleading look, resting her hands on the table.
"I can try," Aragorn replied. He reached over and placed his hand over hers to let her know there were no hard feelings. "And there is nothing to forgive. This is a difficult situation for you. How do you wish me to distract you?"
She reached over and placed her other hand over his for a moment in a gesture of thanks before pulling back and settling deeper into her chair. "Tell me about your life. I have a feeling that's a pretty interesting story, and all I know at this point is that we may be related. What do you do, what was your childhood like, and where in the world did you get that beautiful sword?"
Aragorn sat back in his chair and smiled at her. "In my life, I have been a Ranger, a protector, a healer, a soldier, a Captain in an army, a tracker, a hunter, and a leader of men." Aragorn replied, thinking carefully to make sure he did not miss a role. "As for the sword, your interest surprises me. I assumed from your earlier comments that people no longer carry swords in your time."
"Oh, they don't," Lauren replied, waving a hand in the air. "Most people couldn't care less about them." Her smile widened, and the mischievous look in her eyes reminded Aragorn far too much of the twins in that moment as she continued. "But then, I'm not most people. I collect swords. I've done a lot of traveling, and have collected interesting swords from several different countries." Her eyes drifted down to Aragorn's side where Anduril hung in its sheath. "But not even in museums have I seen a sword like the one you carry. I don't think it's like even exists in my world."
Aragorn smiled at her. "There is no sword like it even in Middle-earth. The sword I carry is Andúril, Flame of the West, the sword of Elendil re-forged by the elves of Rivendell."
Lauren had been about to ask Aragorn to tell her the full story of the sword when a certain word caught her attention. She stared at him for a moment before she was able to say a word. "Elves?"
Aragorn heard the disbelief in her voice, and understood her confusion. "You have never seen an elf, have you? They were beginning to leave the shores of Middle-earth in my time. There are probably none left in your time. But yes, I come from a time when elves still walked the land."
Lauren stared at him in confusion. "You're pulling my leg, here. I just don't get the joke."
"What?" Aragorn asked, confused by her reaction and her words. "I have not touched your leg."
"It means you're kidding me, but I just don't see why." Lauren was shaking her head slowly as she tried to figure out the joke.
"Why would you think I was kidding?" Aragorn asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched her.
"Because elves aren't real. They don't exist." The tone of voice Lauren used made it quite clear that she believed her words and thought anyone who believed otherwise to be delusional.
"I can assure you, they do." Aragorn tried to convince her of the truth of his words.
"No, they don't." Lauren's expression was growing darker as she became frustrated.
"Yes, they do." Aragorn kept his voice calm, but he was beginning to become frustrated as well with her stubborn refusal to believe him.
Lauren shook her head as their conversation reverted to sounding like it was occurring between two children. Arguing that way would accomplish nothing. "Everyone knows elves are only a myth. They occur in fantasy, in children's tales, but they were never real. Elves are no more real than dragons." Lauren waved a hand in dismissal of the very idea.
Aragorn spoke slowly, trying to convince Lauren he was speaking the truth. "Lauren, I was raised by elves, they have been my greatest friends and allies, and my wife is an elf. Well, half-elf, at least. I can assure you that elves do in fact exist. As do dragons, though they are very rare now. Most of them have been killed." His last two comments were rather casual, as that point was not what he was trying to convince her of.
She gave him a skeptical look, crossing her arms over her chest. "Uh huh. Dragons are real, but are now extinct? I suppose you, being a great knight, helped to slay all the dragons?" She shook her head, feeling she was getting off topic. "So what do these elves look like? I'm picturing Santa's helpers or the Keebler® elves here. If you married one, I'm assuming that's not what they really look like."
Again, Aragorn had no idea what she was talking about, but he could answer her question. "In many ways, elves resemble humans very closely. They have pointed ears, and are fairer of face than humans. They have a glow about them and their voices are lyrical. Once you have seen an elf, you will never forget what they look like. They are stronger and capable of moving more quickly than any human. They have great wisdom, and they are immortal." Aragorn leaned forward in concern. "Are tales of them not told in your world?"
Lauren shook her head at his words. "Like I said, just tales of fantasy and legend. I don't know if I even believe you. I've known all my life that elves were not real, and now someone in a dream tells me they were. I think I'll need a little more proof than that."
Aragorn sighed. Her skepticism may be difficult to overcome. She was proving to be just as stubborn as everyone else in his family. "You and I are proof. My bloodline was descended from elves, and since I married Arwen, you are also descended from elves."
She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief, and for a moment, Aragorn was reminded very strongly of Lord Elrond. Even if she did not believe him, Aragorn knew with certainty that she was descended from the house of Elrond. No one else would be able to look so much like him. He sighed and spoke again. "It seems that much of your heritage has been lost in the mists of time. Would you like to hear the tales that I was told as a child? I can tell you the story of Arda's creation, the awakening of the First and Second People, and the many ages that passed before my time."
She shrugged, but her curiosity was now piqued. "I'm always up for a good story. But this sounds like a long one. Let me get more comfortable." She looked off to the side, and a covered platform appeared with two soft plush armchairs and a small table between them. She stood up and grabbed her glass, heading toward the more comfortable chairs. "Are you coming?"
Aragorn stood up and followed her, taking his own drink with him. As they made themselves comfortable, Lauren pulled her feet up in the chair and tucked them underneath her. She turned her full attention to Aragorn. "I'm ready. Tell me a story, Grandpa?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and Aragorn couldn't help but notice how young she looked.
"Very well," Aragorn said, inclining his head toward her. "It all began with music; the music of the Ainur." Aragorn told her of how the music of the Ainur created Arda and all upon its surface. He spoke of Melkor and his uprising against Ilúvatar, and of the coming of the Firstborn of the Children of Ilúvatar, the elves. Aragorn talked for many hours, telling Lauren a somewhat condensed version of the history of Middle-earth. He told her of all the wondrous creatures that existed there, dwarfs and ents, dragons and balrogs. She listened with rapt attention, her eyes never leaving his face. She was as caught up in the stories as Aragorn was. Her face echoed the horror he had felt the first time he had heard the stories of the Silmarils and the kinslaying on the shores of Valinor, at Alqualondë. While he could not tell her every detail, he managed to get in the story of the awakening of the humans, the fall of Gondolin, the tale of Beren and Lúthien, and most of the details of Elrond and Elros' bloodline. He described the defeat of Morgoth, the founding of Númenor with Elros as the first Númenórean king, and skimmed over the long list of kings of the Númenórean line. He had just finished the tale of Isildur's refusal to destroy the one ring after he had cut it off of Sauron's hand when he realized that he was beginning to fade away again.
Lauren smiled at him as he began to leave the dream realm. "I'll expect you to finish that story tomorrow."
"Make sure you are still here when I arrive tomorrow," Aragorn said. He was still worried that she might not be here when he came back.
She smiled at his concern. "Don't worry. I'll be here. I'm not going to die. Not until I know how that story ends, anyway. And since it doesn't look like I'll be waking up anytime soon, I'll see you tomorrow," she said as he faded completely away.
Aragorn opened his eyes to see the sun shining through the windows of his chambers. He looked over to see Arwen sitting on the edge of the bed watching him. "Did you see her?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Aragorn said. "And I am sure of it now. She is our granddaughter. She is every bit as stubborn as Eldarion." He sat up in the bed and ran a hand tiredly through his hair.
"What was she being stubborn about?" Arwen asked.
"She did not believe that elves were real," Aragorn responded with a glint of humor in his eyes.
"I hope you were able to convince her otherwise," Arwen replied with a smile on her lips.
"I was trying," Aragorn said. "I was telling her the history of Middle-earth and our peoples when I began to wake up. I will simply have to finish telling the tale when I return tonight."
"So you plan to return?" Arwen asked.
"Until she awakes, yes. She needs someone to keep her company. She told me that she was getting lonely there by herself. I cannot simply abandon her." Aragorn waved his hand in emphasis.
"I would not expect you to. But do you think you will be able to return as often as you wish?" Arwen was afraid that he might be getting his hopes up and that he might not be able to return.
"I do not know. All I can do is try."
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