It was freezing cold that night, and the shaky breaths coming out of her mouth sent puffs of smoke into the chilly air. She stood behind the railing of the bridge, looking down at the water raging raucously below her. Even though she knew she would have no use for it where she was headed, she still tucked her wand safely within the inner pocket of her coat. Just knowing it was there, with her, was a small sort of comfort.
Her hands shook as she grabbed the banister that separated her from the drop, and they slipped momentarily on the icy surface, before they settled in a firm grip. Her head whipped around as she heard the hollering voices of her pursuers getting closer by the minute. They knew they had her. She knew it too. With the Anti-Disapparating Ward upon the area, and Death Eaters surrounding her from every side, there was no way out. She was trapped.
She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to be brave. There was only one thing to do. She would not be captured, she would not betray her friends, nor The Order. This was war, and she had always been quite aware that she might one day be forced do face such a choice. Taking another deep, shaky breath, she hoisted herself up, swung one leg over the railing, then the other, and placed her feet down on the other side, whilst her hands held the banister firmly; the only thing that kept her from falling.
She stood for a moment, staring down into the dark abyss of stormy water underneath the snowy ice that had settled over the river during the winter. Surprisingly, she felt a certain calm come over her. She had always been afraid of heights, or rather of falling. Yet as she stood, about to subject herself to the mercy of the fall, she felt no fear. Just the placid relief of knowing that she would not betray her loved ones. She would not be tortured. Soon, she could slip away into peaceful nothingness. And they would fight on.
The voices grew closer, they would soon be upon her. There was no time to lose, she could not risk them interfering. Closing her eyes, she took a last breath of the fresh, wintry air. In her mind she pictures all the people she loved, knowing that this was for them. She hoped that this might help them, in some small way at least, to win the war, and secure a happy future for themselves.
"Don't forget me," she whispered to the wind, before she loosened the grip on the railing, and her young body drifted slowly forward for a moment, as if hesitant of the sudden free-fall. And as the unrelenting arms of gravity worked their magic on her, she fell down, down, down, until her body connected with the frozen surface, and she plummeted into the water. Then, everything went blissfully dark.
There was a sense of falling through time and space that seemed to last for a small eternity. It was dark. Pitch black. She could see nothing, and feel nothing, just the sense of falling down, down, down. She felt not the air upon her face, nor could she hear the disturbance in the air which you normally would when falling. Indeed, she could not feel her face, or her ears, or her body at all. It was as if she was formless, yet still conscious. And still falling.
Strange.
Another small eternity passed, until, finally, she landed on solid ground with a resounding thwack. Strangely, the collision with the ground did not force the air out of her lungs as it usually would. Instead, it forced the air back into them, and with a mighty, desperate gasp for air, she was suddenly back in her body, feeling the air on her face and her back on the ground once more. She lay there, gasping for breath for a few moments, trying to gather her thoughts, and her wits.
As the memories came rushing back to her, she stiffened. Solid ground? Was she dead? She had no idea. For a moment fear seized her, as she wondered if perhaps she hadn't died, that she had instead been taken captive by the Death Eaters. She strained her ears, hoping that some sound in her surroundings might tell her something of her situation. All she could hear however, was the sound of a few birds singing, and what sounded like the rustle of a river nearby, and she frowned. It sounded… Peaceful.
Well, she thought wryly to herself. That rules out captivity.
Feeling more curious by the moment, she opened her eyes slowly and squinted as her eyes were assaulted by the bright light. She waited a few moments until her eyes had adjusted accordingly, then opened them properly.
What the…
Sluggishly, she struggled into a sitting position, and gaped as she took in her surroundings.
Is this heaven?
She could think of no better word to describe it. The solid ground in which she lay upon, was soft, green grass that seemed to stretch on for miles. In front of her were magnificent mountains adorned with pure, white snow up in the high tops, which glinted in the sunlight. About a mile to her left, a magnificent river wound its way through the landscape until it disappeared into a massive forest that lay behind her. As far as she could see, there was no sign of civilization in sight. Just nature. A beautiful paradise.
"Huh," she muttered to herself in all astonishment, "I must have done something right in life, then."
Somehow she managed to pull herself onto her feet, though she swayed slightly and closed her eyes tightly as a dizzy spell overwhelmed her. She looked down upon herself, curiously. She didn't feel dead. In fact, she felt very… normal. And looked normal. Pressing her hand to her coat, she felt the firm imprint of her wand still in her inner pocket, and she fished it out and held it experimentally in her hand. She could still feel the power in it. The magic.
She tried a simple Aguamenti spell and raised her eyebrows in amazement when water promptly gushed out of the tip of her wand.
"Weird," she declared to herself. "Didn't realize you could do magic in the afterlife."
Something felt odd, she decided. She really didn't feel like she was dead, but she couldn't fathom where on earth she had ended up. Had she travelled through some portal? Had she magically managed to disapparate before she hit the water? She couldn't remember.
Feeling like the heat of the sun was boiling her alive though, she quickly discarded her coat, shrunk it and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans. Who knew, it might come in handy later. She decided to make her way over to the trees of the forest behind her, to find some shade and somewhere to settle down to think.
She had barely started walking however, when a rumbling in the ground suddenly had her on full alert. Something was coming. From a dip in grass ahead of her, emerged a herd of black creatures at rapid speed, riding atop some sort of atrocious beasts. They seemed to have picked up on her presence, because they headed straight towards her.
She squinted her eyes, trying to make out who, or rather what, they were, but she could not recognize their features. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach though, and kept her wand raised in front of her, ready to defend herself if she had to.
As the creatures came closer, she wrinkled her nose in disgust once she saw the looks of them. Their skin was a foul sort of dark grey, and their faces were of varying degrees of disgustingly distorted. They were hideous. There was no way around it. They looked like some sort of spawn of Satan.
Soon enough, they creatures were upon her, and they surrounded her threateningly, upon their steeds, which Evanna made out to be some sort of hybrid-beast-wolves. They snarled and bit after her, but were held back by their masters. The rider themselves, wheezed and spit back and forth between themselves, in an ugly, menacing language she could not understand.
This can't be good, she thought to herself, whilst she tried to keep an eye on all of them at once.
One of the foul creatures slipped down from its beast and stepped towards her. She took a step back in trepidation, but realized it was no use. For the second time that day, she was surrounded, and outnumbered.
The orc leered and grinned viciously at her, showing of a set of rotting teeth coated in dark saliva, and she could practically feel the breath reeking from afar.
"Dinner, and entertainment for the night," he declared to his friends, as he licked his lips suggestively, and the others cheered in response.
Finally a language I understand, she thought to herself, although she rather wished she hadn't.
"Uh, while that does sound absolutely lovely, gents," she replied sardonically. "I'm afraid I will have to pass on that."
The spawn of Satan laughed derisively. "Got somewhere to be?" He asked, as he took another threatening step towards her. She forced herself not to retreat.
"Unfortunately," she replied with fake-apologetic shrug.
"Well," he crooned. "I'm afraid, we insist."
He cackled evilly, as he took another step forward, and made a move to grab her by her arm.
"Stupefy," she cried as she pointed her wand at him, and a red spur of light shot out of her wand, hitting him right in the chest, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
The other beasts stopped their cheers abruptly, looking dumbfounded.
"If you will excuse me, gentlemen," she said dryly and fired off a reducto curse at the ground before the two creatures blocking her path towards the forest, which sent them both flying to the sides. She wasted no time in throwing herself at the opening it created, and set of towards the forest in the distance. It took the creatures some time to recuperate, but she soon heard the drum of their steeds pounding into the ground as they pursued her.
She made it to the trees unscathed, luckily, and once there, she realized her advantage. She now had somewhere to hide, and from the cover of a thick tree trunk, she turned to fight back, firing off two curses that sent two of them to the ground, stunned. But there were too many of them left for her to fight off alone, and her hiding spot had now been disclosed, so she made to run deeper into the forest, with her foes hot on her trail.
Suddenly, there was swift movement amongst the trees, and seemingly out of nowhere appeared a dozen men, some on the ground, while others from the trees, charging towards her and the orcs, and she stopped frozen for a moment in surprise. Some carried swords raised for attack, while others fired arrow after arrow, quicker than anyone she had ever seen before. And one after another, the foul creatures fell, as did their beasts.
Although she had no idea who these people were, she understood they had a common cause in that moment; to fight off the orcs, and so Evanna turned with a small shrug and charged along with them, firing off another set of curses towards the ugly, black demons.
It was not long before all of them were defeated, spread around the forest floor with black blood oozing ominously out of their wounds. Evanna wrinkled her nose in disgust. Not only were the creatures absolutely revolting to look at, but the smell was so foul and potent, it almost made her sick to her stomach.
Still, she was glad she was safe, and she was just about to turn to thank the men for coming to her aid, when she found herself surrounded by them, with arrows aimed at her face threateningly.
Apparently, not so safe after all, she thought sarcastically to herself. This is so not my day.
She held her hands up as a sign of peace, while she took a moment to truly take in the appearances of these strange forest men. They wore grey, old-fashioned tunics with brown belts tied around their waists to secure their swords. And curiously, they all sported the same long, golden white hair, quite unusual for men, or so Evanna thought, but most curious of all were perhaps the strange, pointy ears parting the golden locks of every man.
Where am I? Wonderland?
One man, broader and burlier than the others, stepped forward with a severe look upon his face.
"You trespass into the realm of Lothlórien, leading a heard of Orcs of The Enemy. What business have you here?"
His voice was hard and accusing, and he stood stoically, staring haughtily down at her, waiting for an answer. Evanna blinked in confusion.
Loth- what? Orcs? Enemy? What's he on about?
"Err, trespassing, sir?" She was terribly confused. "Where exactly am I?"
Trespassing, she grumbled silently to herself. What is this, North-Korea?
An irritated twitch of eyebrow was the only reaction she got from the dour looking leader.
"Lothlórien," he repeated impatiently. "The forest realm of the elves?"
He phrased it as a question, but there was a hint of mockery in his tone, leaving her with the impression that he thought her somewhat dimwitted.
"Yes, you said that already." She pursed her lips in annoyance. "But where exactly is this forest realm of Lothloringnon?"
She deliberately mispronounced the foreign name, as a sort of stick it to him for his discourteous attitude.
The man looked increasingly irritated.
"Lothlórien," he corrected stiffly, and she almost smirked to herself at him being so easily bated, but she quickly sobered as she warily regarded the dozen sharp arrow-points aimed at her face. Then her slow brain registered another word he used in the former sentence.
"Wait, did you just say elves?" she exclaimed.
He merely raised a sardonic eyebrow at her violent reaction.
"Indeed," he confirmed.
Evanna gaped at him, while her thoughts spun wildly.
"Elves?" she repeated dazed. "Elves? Lothlórien?"
Her slow mind finally began to catch up with her. She considered the foul creatures she had come across before. And the Elves before her. And the word Lothlórien rang familiarly in her mind as she began to remember a certain fantasy saga she had been obsessed with as a child.
How can this be? She thought to herself. I'm dreaming.
She tried to pinch her arm, to force herself to wake up, but nothing happened.
"Oh, God…" she muttered to herself, as she turned slightly from the elven leader and touched her forehead gingerly. "Oh, God," she repeated perturbedly.
She ignored the strange looks she received from the elves.
"It's official," she stated to herself with a wide gesture of her arm. "I've gone mad!"
Her thoughts kept racing with the realization, as she tried to make sense of her situation.
"But how can this be? I should be dead…"
She began to pace back and forth in her confusion, well, as much as she was able to in her tight surroundings.
"Excuse me-," the leader interrupted frustratedly.
"Shush," she cut him off him with a raised hand. "You're not real."
She kept pacing, mumbling to herself.
Finally, the leader had enough of her. He took a threatening step forward and grabbed her arm forcibly, emitting a gasp of pain from her, but successfully shaking her out of her disarray of thoughts.
"I assure you." His voice was low and dangerous. "We are quite real."
Evanna stared up at him wide-eyed, but had to concur. His grip was certainly real enough, and so, she deemed, he was too. And the ground she stood upon was firm and hard. Definitely real.
She let out a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts again.
"So you mean to tell me," she said slowly. "That I am indeed…" She hesitated for a moment, feeling the absurdity of the situation."… in Middle Earth?"
She gazed up at him in utter astonishment.
He looked down at her with that same impasse face, but there was a hint of bewilderment in his eyes as he regarded the genuine astonishment on her face.
"Yes," he confirmed slowly, watching her face carefully to regard her reaction.
Her eyes flickered back and forth along his face for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was messing with her. But she saw nothing but sincerity in his eyes.
"I don't believe it," she whispered. "Forgive me, but…" She wondered how she could possibly explain this to them, without sounding like a complete lunatic. "Where I come from.. Middle Earth… Elves… Lothlórien… It isn't real. Just fantasy. A story."
The leader merely raised one eyebrow questioningly, and send a pointed look to the elf on his right flank. They definitely thought she was crazy.
"And where exactly are you from?" He inquired derisively.
"I…" She hesitated, suddenly feeling terrified of actually voicing aloud the realization that suddenly dawned upon her with relentless force. "I'm from…"
"Another world, I guess."
They discussed at great lengths, in another language she could not understand, but she guessed it was some form of elvish. Probably Sindarin, if she remembered correctly from her childhood days. She had been quite a nerd for Lord of the Rings back then.
Who knew all that nerding might actually come in handy one day, she thought dryly to herself.
At last, the leader turned back to her.
"We shall take you to the Lady Galadriel," he declared. "She will know what to make of this."
Good, she thought to herself. She's psychic. She'll have some answers.
"Thank you." She offered a crooked smile of relief, suddenly feeling very grateful to her rescuers. He merely inclined his head stiffly.
"My name is Haldir," he offered. "Marchwarden of Lothórien."
"Oh," Evanna exclaimed. "Forgive my poor manners. My name is Evanna. Evanna Crawford."
She stuck out her right hand to properly greet him, and offered a small smile, hoping to correct the poor impression she had made of herself. They no doubt thought her half mad.
He stared impassively at her proffered hand and raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"Right," she retracted her hand and laughed, feeling like an idiot. "You don't do that here.."
He sent her an inquisitive look, but ignored her strange antics and pointed to her left hand, where she had tucked her wand into her sleeve while she waited.
"You must surrender your… stick." He stumbled upon the word, as if not quite sure what to make of her weapon.
She let out a small laugh. "It's not a stick," she corrected. "It's a wand."
He raised his eyebrows, not understanding.
"Er, it helps me perform magic," she explained. "I am a witch."
Haldir went rigid at that. "A witch?" he asked stiffly.
"Yes," she replied haltingly. "Why? Is that… bad?"
"You practice the black arts?" His voice was accusing. "The Witch-King of Angmar?"
"No! No, no." She shook her head vehemently. "Not Black Arts. I'm a good witch!"
She scrambled for some way to convince him of the nature of her powers.
"You have wizards here, right? Good wizards?" She gestured desperately with her hands. "Like Gandalf!"
"I'm like Gandalf," she explained fervently. "Though slightly less powerful…"
She frowned as she considered all they ways she was decidedly not like Gandalf.
"… definitely not as wise," she continued sardonically, as she pondered out loud. "And, naturally, a lot… younger."
"But good!" she exclaimed again, as she shook off her ramblings and remembered what she was trying to do.
He raised his hands to signal peace. "Yes, yes, I believe you," he said wryly. "I suppose witchcraft is different where you are allegedly from."
She nodded vigorously, choosing not to acknowledge the skepticism of his allegedly.
"Still, it is your weapon of choice, and until Lady Galadriel has her say, you are in our custody," he gestured to the wand in her sleeve. "You must surrender your… wand."
She hesitated a moment, reluctant to give up her only feeling of safety in this strange, unfamiliar land.
"Is that really necessary?" She bit her lip nervously. "I mean you no harm, I swear it! And I will not run, that I promise. Indeed, where would I run to? I have nowhere to go."
Her voice trailed off somewhat pitifully, as she realized while she said the words, that they were indeed true. She had nowhere to go. No friend, no ally, no home to turn to in this fantastical foreign world. Everyone she knew, everything she knew, was far beyond her reach now.
His face softened a little at that. "Very well," he said. "You may keep it." Seeing the look of relief and gratitude light up her face though, he quickly sought to sober her up. "But one move out of line, and one of my Wardens will have a an arrow piercing through your scull before you even think to utter any incantation," he threatened.
Her eyes widened and she grimaced at the vividly grotesque picture he painted.
"You need not worry," she said sardonically. "I like my scull very much intact, thank you very much. I have no desire to test the archery skills of your Wardens."
She threw a respectful glance at the elves who surrounded her, with arrows strung tightly in their bows, showing no signs of fatigue at having held them there for such a long a time.
"Very well," Haldir conceded, satisfied with her response, and gestured into the forest. "Follow me."
After walking for what seemed like hours, darkness had grown so heavily around them, Evanna began to stumble as she struggled to make out the uneven ground beneath her feet. Her night vision was nothing compared to that of the elves. Then, suddenly, they stopped. And as her eyes slowly adjusted better to the darkness, she noted that they stood before a massive tree trunk, which extended far into the night sky.
She watched in amazement as elf after elf leaped up into the tree branches with an ease and grace that no human could ever possess.
"After you," Haldir offered, regarding the stunned look upon her face with a small amount of amusement.
She stared back at him in confusion. "What do you mean, after me?"
He gestured towards the tree with a small smirk.
She gaped. "Up?" she exclaimed in dismay.
He merely nodded.
"Uh, I think I would rather stay here on the ground," she stated firmly, crossing her arms.
"On the ground we are vulnerable," said Haldir with a small amount of patience. "We sleep in the trees. It is safer. And we are at an advantage."
Evanna bit her lip anxiously as she regarded the tree. How could they possibly sleep up there without falling down? Still, she supposed she could use a Sticking Charm to secure herself to a branch, if she had to.
She sighed in defeat, and looked back to Haldir. "I can't fly like you can," she grumbled. "How will I get up there?"
He smirked again and whistled some signal up into the tree, and seemingly out of nowhere, a ladder made of rope tumbled down from above.
He gestured towards the ladder. "I take it you know how to use one of these?" he said in a condescending voice that really grated on her already frayed nerves. She had to physically restrain herself from delivering a scathing reply.
"Naturally," she replied instead, through gritted teeth and grabbed a step on the ladder to begin the ascent up into the trees.
Her hands shook slightly as she climbed further and further up and away from the safety of solid ground. Her heart raced, and with every step she took, she was sure her traitorous limbs would betray her and send her plummeting to the ground. Was it that very same day that she had plummeted to a certain death in another world? It felt like an eternity had passed since then. But she had definitely had enough falling for a lifetime.
She had no idea whether the elf came up behind her, or whether he had taken another route into the treetops. She had no intention of looking down to find out. If she did, she was sure she would have a heart attack and slip.
Evanna really did not like heights.
Nor did she have any idea how much further she had to go, for every time she tried to look up, a sense of vertigo made her so dizzy she had to stop and look straight ahead to calm herself down again. Instead, she focused solely on making her limbs function properly, climbing further up, step by step.
A small shriek escaped her mouth when her upper arms were suddenly seized from above and someone hoisted her into the air for a moment, before she found herself on her knees on solid footing once more.
It took her a moment to calm down enough to dare open her eyes. To her great astonishment, she found herself in a sort of tree house. It was some kind of platform carved out of wood, though to her great disappointment it did not have solid walls surrounding it. That would have been a small comfort, at least.
Still feeling weak all over from anxiety, she quickly crawled to the middle of the platform, and leaned shakily against the tree trunk and closed her eyes tightly, willing her nerves to settle down. She truly hated when she got like this. It felt almost as if she were no longer in control of her body, and it prickled uncomfortable all over, whilst her breathing became uncomfortably erratic.
"Are you unwell?" She heard Haldir's voice from somewhere above her. He sounded almost concerned.
"Fine," she breathed weakly. "I just… really don't do well with heights."
After a few moments passed, she felt more in control of her body, and she opened her eyes slowly. She noted that a few more elves had joined them on their platform, and had spread out on cots that lay on the wooden floor.
"Here." Her eyes flickered over to where the Chief-Elf stood beside her, offering her a soft bundle of fabrics. She took the proffered gift slowly, then frowned in disbelief as she realized he had given her a mat of her own to sleep on, and a thick, blanket to cover herself with.
"What's this?" She looked up at the elf in bewilderment. He gave her an incredulous look, clearly having decided once and for all that she was thoroughly moronic. Realizing he had misunderstood, she sought to clarify.
"Well, obviously, I know what it is," she rolled her eyes. "But why are you being kind to me?" It was her turn to look at him incredulously. "I'm your prisoner, remember?" she reminded him.
He sighed exasperatedly, and she could have sworn she saw him roll his eyes in response, but she couldn't be sure in the dark. "We are not savages," he replied haughtily.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the subtle shade he threw at her with the stress on the first word, and she smirked. Perhaps he wasn't such a stoic bore after all.
"I suggest you get some rest," Haldir said, as he began to turn away from her. "We still have some miles to trek on the morrow, until we arrive at Caras Galadhon."
She nodded, as she began unfolding her mat on the wooden floor, as close to the tree trunk as possible. She promptly charmed the mat to stick to the floor, and once she had made herself comfortable, with the comfortably weight of the warm blanket covering her, she charmed herself stuck to the mat. Satisfied that she would not accidentally tumble over the edge of the platform in her sleep, she soon closed her eyes and drifted off to a deep slumber.
Apparently, dying and waking up from the dead in another world had taken its toll on her. She was absolutely knackered.