Pain. She felt the wind coursing through her face from the free-fall. Last she remembered, she was climbing a tree to save a white kitten in front of her apartment. Next she knew, she was falling into an endless pit of darkness, continually. She thought she was as good as dead, she was probably already… gone.

Melle Rosaline Oh had only wanted to for once bring out her inner Gryffindor to do something productive in her life; by saving a white kitten, but she overestimated her physical abilities and ended up falling down from a tree. Except, she did not reach the ground. No. She closed her eyes waiting for the impact, but it never reached her until what felt like several minutes. She was sure she had died and become a roaming ghost.

I hope I would get to haunt people like Shane and Ryan, she jested.

Though reality had really hit her when she landed with a punch to the chest.

Oh, not dead yet.

Laying face first on the floor for a while, she heaved in slowly, her chest hurt. A lot. She felt like needles were pricking her ribs and she could barely breathe from the impact. She groaned, "I am never going to climb a tree again. Never."

She jolted when a gruff voice spoke from behind her, "Híril nín, Man carel le? (My lady, what are you doing?"

Confused at the foreign but alluring language, she stood up, shaking slightly from the blood rush and gaped at the tall heavily bearded man in grey robes. She most likely only reach below his shoulders.

The tall man smiled with kind eyes, "Suilad! Man i eneth lín? Mithrandir eneth nin. (Greetings! What is your name? I am Mithrandir.)"

"I… Uh… I'm very sorry but I don't understand you. Do you speak English?" she croaked, still hurt from the fall.

The tall man seemed shocked, for his eyes widened slightly and it was his turn to become overwhelmed with confusion, "An elleth who does not speak Sindarin? That is unheard of." Melle continued to stare at him as if he was a madman, she did not understand a single word he had been saying. Elleth? Sindarin?

Is that even in the dictionary?

"I did not understand a single word you just said-" realization struck her as she observed the man once more. The long greying beard, the robe, the wizard hat, "Wait. Oh my God, are you cosplaying Albus Dumbledore?"

The assumed Albus Dumbledore cosplayer now stared at her as if she was a madwoman, "No my lady, I am afraid I am not this 'Albus Dumbledore' man. My name is Mithrandir, but you can call me Gandalf. I was wondering why a young elf-woman such as yourself would be doing in The Shire. Moreover, without the knowledge of her own language, Sindarin."

"Elf-woman? Is this a cosplay event? I am so confused, please stop pranking me. I am not an elf! I'm going to check where I am on google maps if you do not tell me." she exclaimed in bewilderment, her eyes searching her surroundings to see she was in an entirely new place that was definitely not the front of her apartment. It was a village of sorts with lots of green, trees, and colourful flowers. Houses were dug as holes and circular doors were painted with bright colours. Where am I? How did I even get here? She tried to dig out her phone but realized her bag containing her phone had separated from her, she drew in a shaky breath of fear.

The man, 'Gandalf', gently replied, "Please do not fret, young lady, I mean no harm to you," he paused to gesture to a bench in front of the gate that lead to a green circular door "now, how about we have a seat and you can explain to me where you are from?"

Unsurely, Melle sat slowly on the wooden bench, still traumatized how she was suddenly in an unknown place, without her phone. And she doubted this ancient place out of civilization would have a phone. She hoped she was not kidnapped, nor was she sent in the afterlife. When she finally sat, the so-called Gandalf smiled and offered her a waterskin, "Some water to calm you?"

Stranger danger, she alerted herself. Though her throat was dry as sand, she would either die from dehydration, from Gandalf's poison, or drink it and live because Gandalf did not poison her. She chose the latter. Muttering a quiet "Thank you" as she took a small sip, immediately feeling rejuvenated.

After a moment of silence, Gandalf began, "Now young lady, how about you explain what had happened and who you are. I may be able to help you. Do not be afraid, I mean only good intentions."

Melle glanced to her feet, her white sneakers now covered with dirt and she could feel her black hoodie constricting her breathing, "My name is Melle…" she began, "I-I do not know, I was just climbing the tree to save a kitten, then I fell, then I was in complete darkness. A-And somehow I ended up here. I do not know where I am or why I am here. I am so scared… "

Gandalf glanced at her with indescribable words in his eyes, he gave one pat to her shoulders, gaining Melle's attention. Her eyes now glistening with brimming tears, she was frightened, confused, upset. She missed her home already, where ever this was, it was far from her home. It did not even feel as if this was earth anymore, it was far from civilization, she could see ahead of her, tiny people in medieval clothing walking around merrily. From her observation, the people were as small as a child under eight years old, with large sturdy feet, they looked like dwarves though she doubted it as they were beardless.

This is definitely not earth.

"Young one, I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil, and even the very wise cannot see all ends" Gandalf advised, "This here, is the land of Middle-earth, you are now in The Shire, where the race of hobbits reside. These are good-hearted folks, you shan't be afraid. I believe you have been sent here for a reason, Lady Melle. For I have heard of a prophecy told by a good friend of mine. Tough, I never expected you to have arrived so early. You have a purpose here. Will you trust me on this?"

And so, she wept. Her thoughts seared through her mind like a lightning bolt. Gandalf never interrupted her, just sat by her silently, letting her mourn. After a while, she considered his words, she could continue moping for years, but she could also mope and choose to continue her life. She could not let her fear consume her, she had to get stronger at a certain point if she was going to survive here. And so she chose the latter.

Gandalf was a wise man, she could tell from his eyes that glinted with years of wisdom, slowly she whispered, "I guess I do not have any other choice. I must trust you. Although I still do not understand why you said I am an elf, I am a human for as long as I know."

Gandalf's face seemed to wrinkled in humour, "Well, I believe your ears say otherwise, young one. I am not mistaken."

Melle furrowed her eyebrows, hands quickly touching her ears to feel that it was pointy. Her eyes widened like a saucer, "I-I- My- Ears."

Gandalf let out a chuckle, "Yes young one, you are an elf here and I intend to take you to a good friend of mine who happens to be an elf as well, soon as possible. You may temporarily reside there in safety. For we have many adventures yet to expect in the future," he winked.

Melle nodded softly. Gandalf stood up and offered her a hand, "shall we depart? This will be a rather long journey. I believe around a week of horseback."

She took his hands, "Thank you…" she hesitated, "Gandalf."

Gandalf offered a kind smile, "my pleasure, young one."

She wondered for a minute, "Do elves here speak uhm… was it something like Sardine? Or was it Soradrin? I kind of forgot…"

The wizard chuckled, "The most common one for your kin is Sindarin, young one. Many races have their own language, but most speak the Common Tongue as we are now," he paused, eyes wide in realization, "that does remind me that no one shall know of your true identity. You must have a new Sindar name and learn Sindarin. It would benefit you greatly."

Melle agreed, "I also do not want anyone to know of my identity… I studied English at the place where I am from, well, you could say I studied the language of Common Tongue there as a subject. I would be very pleased to learn another," she thought for a while, "what do you suggest should be my mighty elf name, Gandalf?"

Eyes glinting with unspoken thoughts again, Gandalf suggested, "There is a word in Sindarin meaning 'Dear Gift'. It is similar to your current name."

"That is interesting, what is it?" she asked in excitement.

The wizard's mouth curved slightly as he headed off to a pair of horses, gesturing her to follow him, "Melian, young one,"

Melian.

Her new name marked the beginning of the next chapter of her life

Extra

"Oh and Gandalf, what were you doing in The Shire?"

He turned, eyes twinkling, "Observing for a potential burglar, dear Melian."