I hereby disclaim all rights to earn any money off of the world that Tolkien created.
Voiced Palatal Affricate (ʤ)
In the Prancing Pony, there is a wall where letters are oft left nailed. They are warnings, some of them, others are lovers' notes on future dates, and some are traveler's accounts, leaving evidence of their existence. It is safer to leave a letter with the barkeep, but his memory can't be relied on. So, if the contents of your message are not sensitive to snooping, I do, by all means suggest using it.
Today, I noticed a parchment written in a strange text carefully pinned so that if one could understand the strange characters, they could read it easily. It was not dwarf runes or ancient Elvish script that make this letter so bizarre. This is a letter written in the Latin alphabet, using an ancient spelling system preserved in writing from the 13th century AD. English.
Dear traveler,
If you can read this, then you are my fellow countryman. No doubt, you are in a similar situation, and perhaps could give me some advice? Or a way home? Or someone with whom to speak our ancient and beautiful tongue? Please, I beg of you, don't be shy! Ask the barkeep where to find a woman named Barbra.
The instant I recognized my mother tongue, it was in my hand. I touched the paper, smelt the ink, and tried to imagine that the first nineteen years of my life weren't a dream. This is a person who shared my dream. Therefore, it cannot be a dream. I'm not crazy!
I plucked up my courage and asked the barkeep, Zilbirâpha, if he knew a "Barbra".
He squinted up at me for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Chêmi, I know her. Barabraldo!" he called into the back. "Gentleman caller for you!"
A few seconds later, an extraordinarily tall young woman with blond highlights that had grown out a few inches ducked through the doorway.
There is no way I could adequately describe the expression which possessed her face an instant before she fainted dead away when I said, "Hello. My name is Jamie." Perhaps my English is starting to fade.
I hope not.
My idea with this story was to write a realistic "what if I fell into Middle-earth" story, but I found myself too difficult to write, and simplified myself to a neurotic linguist. Also, my name doesn't easily make a funny pun in Westron, like Barbra does. Butterburr's calling her "She Who Drinks Ale Too Quickly", by the by. Fiona… in Westron's phonetics, "Phiona" is boring, other than it sounds like a man's name… -a in Westron names is for the gents only. I was trying to write a self-insert! I really tried! Oh well. Enjoy dear readers, and thank-you for gracing me with your time.
By the by, a Voiced Palatal Affricate is the letter "J" in English. "J" for "Jamie". All that fancy mumbo-jumbo in the title is from IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet).