I know you are probably nervous this is going to be another iconic tenth walker story, but there's defiantly going to be a different plot. It's not really going to follow the movie or books verbatim, because let's face it- we can basically all quote the movies start to finish with all the fanfics out there. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but please keep it kind, and try to limit the profanity. Hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

Also, MoonlightTouch? You're probably not reading this, but on the off chance you are can you shoot me a PM or something? I can't help but feel like we got off on the wrong foot…

Disclaimer: Is my name J.R.R. Tolkien? No. Well, I mean, if you want to call me that, I wouldn't mind… but my point is, I don't own anything except Aisley.

Chapter one- Going Down

Aisley groaned, wishing anything that she could have a phone. Of course, she didn't want to bring the whole plane down- would that happen?- but still. One can only do so many crossword puzzles. And word searches. And read books. She'd brought along a journal, but what was she going to write? In the air. Still in the air. Oh look- clouds. And birds. Can they fly this high? Still in the air. Guess what? In the air. Still.

Heck no. So she resorted to staring out the window, trying to ignore the 40 something year old man snoring on her shoulder. Not fun.

The flight from Belfast to New York was not a short one. And then she had a connecting flight to get to Seattle. Aisley was looking forward to seeing America and meeting her grandmother, but at the same time, America was waaaaay too far away.

She suddenly sat up straight as the plane began to shake. The man fell of her shoulder and glared at her sleepy eyed, but Aisley really didn't care. She was more concerned about the trail of drool that lead from the man's mouth to her cardigan. Ew.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the pilot speaking. We're having a slight turbulence problem. Please remain seated until further notice."

"There's nothing to worry about." An air hostess near Aisley reassured. "This sort of thing happens all the time."

Aisley wasn't sure. Yes, this sort of thing happened all the time. In movies. And then people went crashing down to earth and lived on a deserted island for years and ate each other's dead carcasses. She did not want to eat anyone's dead carcass. No way.

A little girl behind her let out a shriek as the plane shook even worse. Aisley gripped the seat so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She had a seatbelt? Forget the seatbelt. She needed more back up! She needed a freaking harness or something.

When the air hostess sat down, that's when Aisley knew something was wrong. Heck no! She wanted to yell. Get up and serve me some peanuts! That's how I know everything's ok!

They could say there's nothing to worry about, but when the air hostess sits down- you know there's something to worry about.

Aisley herself let out a holler as the plane went down faster, spiraling. This sure wasn't some turbulence problem. She began to pray, and forced herself to tear her eyes away from the window. She didn't need to see the ground hurtling closer and closer to her.

When the collision came, Aisley was braced for it. It didn't help. Her head snapped back viciously and then slammed forward into the seat in front of her. She shook her head woozily as a trickle of blood ran down her face. She had to close her eyes…

When Aisley came to, she couldn't find anyone in the plane. Seriously? Did they really find a rescue crew without her? She shook herself. Obviously, no one wanted to move her since she was passed out. She could have suffered a spinal injury! They did the right thing.

She struggled to unbuckle her seatbelt, and stood up, immediately regretting it. Did the world always spin that fast? Maybe it spun faster in America. Was that even possible?

"Hello?" She asked, exiting the wreckage. She glanced around at the plane in shock. How had she survived the crash? The plane was smashed to bits!

"Seriously?" She cried angrily. "They ditched me? Way not cool!" She stalked off towards the forest, making sure to remember where the plane was. Maybe they were just off looking for food?

Dang it, now she couldn't even become a cannibal and eat someone else's dead carcass! There were no carcasses! She was all alone!

Suddenly, she spotted a man in the deep brush. He didn't look familiar, but then again she didn't have everyone on the plane's faces memorized. She was good, but she wasn't that good.

"Hey, thank God! I thought you guys abandoned me!" Aisley cried, approaching him. The man wheeled around, brandishing a sword at her face. "Whoa there, Dred Pirate Roberts! I'm a friend, not a foe!"

Evidently the man understood exactly nothing of what she said. He spoke quickly in some kind of funky Germanic language. What the heck?

Languages were Aisley's strong suit. She knew at least a little from every different language tree, but she'd never heard of this thing…

"Do you speak English? Gaelic? Española? Italiano? Nynorsk? Deutsch? Latin? Français? Nihongo?" She asked, switching from language to language in hopes of finding a common ground.

The man stared at her blankly. She shook her head.

"Look, dude, I only know one other language, and you won't know it. Where are you from anyway? I mean, I know this is an international flight, but… is that Old Saxon? Nobody speaks that, bro! I don't even speak that, and that's really saying something. "

The man looked at her, cocking his head to the side. He didn't lower the sword. How the heck did he get that sword past airport security?

"Do you speak Elvish?" She asked. The man's eyes lit up.

"You know Sindarin Elvish?" He asked, shocked. Aisley raised an eyebrow.

"You do?" She rebutted. Who the heck knew Elvish besides her?

"Of course. But why do you? I have never heard of a short Elleth. Or a redheaded one for that matter." Aisley took offence to that. Sure, she was no 6'4", but five foot wasn't bad, right?

"Uh… You do know that I'm not really an Elf, right? My friend Tarynn Conalie begged me to learn so I could teach her. I kind of have a knack for languages."

"A mortal that knows Elvish? That is a rare trait indeed."

Seriously? What was with this guy? Aisley made a face at him that the man obviously didn't understand. Talking like he was freaking Robin Hood or something.

"Uh, yeah… So where is everyone else?" She continued, looking around for the rest of the group.

"Whom do you speak of?"

"You know, everyone else on the plane?"

"What is this plane you speak of?" The man asked, and Aisley growled in anger. Obviously she'd just run across some crazy guy in the forest who didn't speak any recognized language, and their only lingua franca was freaking Elvish! Not to mention he had a sword. That was still pointed at her throat.

"Never mind. Do you mind lowering that?" She asked, nodding at the sword. He lowered it, but kept his hand on the hilt, ready to slash her up if necessary. That's fine- as long it wasn't in her immediate vicinity…

If there was any chance of finding anyone else, Aisley would have left then instead of staying with the crazy guy with a sword. But really? Her options were limited.

"Where am I?" She asked the man, and he nodded, relieved that she asked a question he could answer.

"You are on the outskirts of Rivendell, milady." He replied, and Aisley raised an eyebrow.

"Is that in America? My geography isn't as good as my language skills I'm afraid. I'm trying to get to Seattle. Do you know how far away it is?"

"America?" The man asked, confused. What kind of crazy has never heard of America? Sure Aisley hadn't ever been there, but even she knew about it! "I have no knowledge of this America."

"Yeah, ok, so where is this Rivendell?" Aisley asked trying desperately to get her bearings.

"You know Sindarin Elvish, yet you do not know where Rivendell is?"

"I never read the books!" Aisley defended. "I'm not even a…" shoot, there wasn't a word for fangirl in Elvish! "…obsessive follower, you know? It's Tarynn who knows this stuff. She just got me into the language."

"So then you are lost?" The man asked. Aisley nodded. "Do you know the history of Gondor? Do you know who I am?"

"No. How am I supposed to know who you are? I have only just met you. And what is a Gondor? Is it that thing in Italy that they ride on the canal?"

"Gondor is my kingdom. I do not live there currently, but it is where I call home. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

"Right. I am Aisley, um… daughter of Grant?" Aisley bit her lip, feeling completely out of her element… wherever she was. She was a Girl Guide! She should be able to thrive in this sort of situation, plane crashes and all. She could start fires, use compasses, tie knots and all that stuff, but really? What was going on here?

"Aisley. I have never heard of that name before." He declared, and Aisley tilted her head.

"Aisley. As is Mos? Spelled differently, though." When Aragorn didn't respond, she tried again. "You know, Mos Eisley? What, have you never seen Star Wars?"

"No, thankfully I have never even heard of these wars. Did they devastate your lands?"

"When the tickets ran out at the box office, sure." Aisley shrugged.

"What land are you from? I cannot place your accent." Aragorn asked, tipping his head.

"I'm from Ireland. What, you have never heard of that either?"

"No. It must be located far away then, if I have no knowledge of that land."

"I am beginning to think that." Aisley declared, smoothing her hair in front her ears. And then, because she couldn't help it, she added:

"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

To which Aragorn, son of Arathorn replied "Who is Toto? And what is a Kansas?"