Elfling

Under the Stairs

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing!

I nestled back and listened. The King and Wizard talked on and on, but I wasn't hearing the words. I have this thing I like to do where I distance myself from the meaning of the words and just listen to the sound. It really is beautiful and comforting because the intonation and patterns remain the same no matter what language you are listening to. The only problem is that sometimes you become so distanced that you don't realize when someone says something you should recognize – like your name. As you can imagine I was quite surprised when the wizard reached up and shook me.

"Hmm..." I snapped myself back into what I had named 'the conversation zone' and looked at Gandalf questioningly. "Ah, you have come back to us. For a moment it seemed as though you could not hear me." The wizard said; his eyebrows knit together in concern. "As I was saying, I believe you came here wanting answers." "Yes," I said. I sat up expectantly.

"Why don't you ask me your questions and I will answer them as well as I am able." He suggested. It sounded like a good plan so I nodded and searched my mind for a question.

"Why is it that whenever you can't ask anything your mind is exploding with questions, but then as soon as you want to find one, they're gone!"

"Why am I here?" I asked.

"Nice easy question, good thing to start with," I thought.

"I already told you, you are here because you needed to be." Gandalf replied.

"Ok, that's not the type of answer I had in mind."

"But why?" I insisted. "You don't need to know" he dared to reply. "I thought you said you were going to answer my questions." I said testily. "Yes, and that is my answer," Replied Gandalf.

"Ok, take a different approach. Use your amazing ability to manipulate words to trick him in to telling you what you want to know."

"Exactly where am I?" I inquired. "You are in the Elven King's palace, in Mirkwood, in Middle Earth," He answered slowly and with caution.

"........What?"

I tried a different route. "How did you find me? I don't know you..... at least I don't think I do." "I was cleaning up someone else's mess." He answered.

"Hmm....'cleaning up a mess' probably means 'fixing a problem' - A problem that most probably involved me. He said I 'needed' to be here maybe what he really meant is that I needed not to be 'there'."

"Whose mess was it?" I asked. He searched for words than said, "An old colleague of mine, had attempted an experiment," his voice darkened. "And it went wrong."

"Obviously you're not too happy about it. It must have been some sort of evil idea." I said. "Not evil," he corrected. "Merely.......misguided, I suppose you could say."

"So, this misguided friend of yours, he attempts an experiment that somehow affects me. I suppose I was picked randomly?" I questioned. "In a way," the wizard answered. "He did not know you, if that's what you mean. He merely chose you as the best out of all the available options." "Chose me? This experiment was directly connected with me then? I didn't just happen to get in the way?" I tried to work a satisfactory answer out of him. "Yes, it could be said that the experiment revolved entirely around you." Gandalf answered. "And then you step in yeah?" I prompted. "I told him to stop but he didn't listen and the experiment went out of control. I am sorry, I tried to save you and it seems I have succeeded. But what had already been put into motion could not be undone," He concluded regretfully.