First and foremost, please let me express my deep gratitude to everyone who took the time to read this. And my deepest thanks to those who deemed it worthy enough to review/favorite/subscribe to! That there was any interest in this story at all astounded me, and I'm deeply honored for that! So thank you so much! :D One of the (several) fatal flaws of is that I don't believe I can respond directly to your reviews, but I fully intend on doing so here in the story intros. Every review. Every time. No exceptions. If you take the time to review, I will always take the time to respond. :) So,

To my very first reviewer, Ashes: Thank you! I'm glad you already like Arianna. Trust me, she's a hoot-and-a-half to write. I can already tell I'm going to love her more than any OC I've ever written! x) And I'm really glad you liked her attack on Legolas! It was a fun scene to write, definitely! Thanks so much for the review, and I hope you enjoy the second chapter! :D

To my wonderful second reviewer, Sen: I'm really glad you like the story so far, and thanks so much for the review! It means a lot! As for her atheism, it plays a big part in the story later on, so I'm glad you took immediate notice of it! :)

On another note, please don't get too attached to these quick updates. xD I'm a really awful procrastinator, and what usually happens with any of my stories is that I get really excited and barrel through about the first 3-5 chapters, and then a terrible lapse will start. I will do my damnedest not to let that happen to this story! I think that's all for now, so - without further ado - here is the second chapter!

2.

Arianna collapsed to a heap, leaning forward on her hands and hanging her head. She took deep, slow breaths, willing the bile back down her throat. The ground blurred in and out of focus, and her ears echoed with the sound of her throbbing temples. Her throat was thick and tight, and she gasped for air, feeling as if her very sanity was slipping away through her dry lips. She fisted her hands in the gravel, and suddenly she could feel the sting of every one of her small cuts. A thin, warm trickle of blood ran down her neck.

"Lady Arianna…?"

Legolas was beside himself. This woman was an absolute mystery to him: from her strange clothing and the way she spoke to her kaleidoscope of emotions. The sheer shock that had registered on her face when she had discovered he was an elf had softened his heart. Her face had looked so…devastated, as if she had just suffered some terrifying realization. Her eyes had grown wide and fearful, almost childlike in her dread. Now she sat, near tears, shaking on the ground, and Legolas was absolutely ignorant of what course to take. Did he console her? Could he trust that she meant no harm, or was it all a ploy? Frowning, he stepped forward cautiously.

He placed a tender hand on her shoulder. "What troubles you?"

When she felt the touch, she pulled away immediately. He felt too real; it terrified her. Her eyes were wet as she stared up at him, willing his image to disappear. She had no idea what to do. Could it really be that she had – by some inconceivable circumstance – found herself in Middle Earth, in the very midst of the War of the Ring? It seemed so much more than impossible.

"Tell me it's not true," she begged very suddenly. The words exploded from her mouth before she could stop them. "Please. If this is a joke, it's not funny anymore. I want to go home. Please, just tell me where I am. I just want to go home. I want to go back to my world." Her words began to jumble together as she slowly slipped into hysterics. "This isn't real. Middle Earth…not real."

"Lady Arianna…" Legolas couldn't make heads or tales of what she was saying. She couldn't believe she was in Middle Earth? She seemed lost, yes, and he admitted she was abnormal in many ways, but what did she mean she wanted to go home, to her world? He opened his mouth to question her, but she looked up at him so sharply that he almost started.

"You're Legolas," she stated. She then shook her head. "Are you Legolas?" she rephrased, and then, without waiting for his answer, continued. "The Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, Legolas?"

He blinked, quite taken aback. "Yes. Have we…met before, Lady Arianna?" He would have remembered such a woman, he was sure.

"No," she said simply, her voice going quiet. She hung her head again.

"Might I ask how you know me, then?"

He watched as her hands dug into the small rocks tightly. A single tear fell onto her skin. "I know you because…I know you because…" She couldn't decide. Should she tell him the truth? What other option was there? Lie? What would she say? There was no way she would pass as someone from this world, not for a second, not even if she tried her very hardest. There's no way they would believe her. But could she really tell him that she knew him because he wasn't real, because he was a character in a book, a movie, one of the most successful pieces of literature in the history of her world? Her breathing became labored. Every second that passed was becoming painful, her throat clenching up and the corners of her vision fading to black.

"Gandalf," she gasped desperately, "I need...I need to talk to Gandalf!" She brought her shaking hands up to her face, hiding herself as tears slipped eagerly out.

Frowning, Legolas immediately scooped her up into his arms. He was sure now. This was no ploy. This woman was in some sort of trouble and an obvious state of shock. She needed help, and if it was Gandalf she required, he wouldn't hinder her. He hadn't yet filled the water pouches as he had initially intended, but he knew as he held the shaking girl that it could certainly wait. He noted, even in his disordered state, how incredibly light she was. It wasn't just because he was strong or accustomed to such work as lifting and carrying, but she was small. Not only was she short, just barely taller than the Dwarf, he'd wager, but she was drastically thin. Perhaps she'd been lost for quite some time?

He hurried back to the others, urging her quietly to stay awake; they'd be there soon. Gandalf would help her, and she would have water and food and any help they could offer. But when he reached the wizard, her eyes were closed, her eyelashes wet with tears as sobs continued to escape from her throat, her face still twisted in both panic and shock.

"What's this?" Gandalf mused, slowly removing the pipe from his mouth.

"This is Lady Arianna." Legolas wasn't exactly sure what to say. All he knew about the young woman in his arms was her name and the fact that something about her situation was terribly frightening to her. "She was by the river when I went to retrieve water. I don't know much, but when she found out where she was, she went into hysterics. She said she needed to speak with you."

"Did she indeed?" Gandalf asked. "She asked for me by name?"

"Yes. She knew my name, as well. She knew my name and my father's name; she knew that I was the Prince of Mirkwood."

"Lay her down here, my friend." Aragorn had lain out one of the thin blankets over a flat stretch. Legolas laid her down carefully, watching as she curled into herself as soon as she hit the ground.

Gandalf puffed thoughtfully on his pipe for a moment. "Did she say anything else?"

"I believe she's lost," Legolas offered, his brow furrowing. "Gandalf, she said she wanted to go home…to her own world."

This seemed to pique Gandalf's interest, and his eyebrows rose slightly. "Home to her own world?" He puffed on his pipe again, blowing out solid smoke rings. So the Valar have offered another. How curious.

"What do you make of it, Mithrandir?" Boromir struck in. "Surely this is some trickery. She must be a spy."

"No, Boromir," Gandalf refuted, shaking his head in light amusement. "She is certainly no spy. She is no more than a young girl, and we will know more when she awakens, but for the moment, I think we ought to let her rest. You did well to bring her here, Legolas. It would have been an unfortunate loss had the enemy found her first."

Gandalf closed the matter with those words, and the others went about their business. The Hobbits peered curiously from where they sat around the small cooking fire to the body on the ground and quickly forgot it once the food was ready. Lunch was taken, and the sun slowly sank beneath the mountains. Legolas put Arianna out of his mind to help Boromir and Aragorn train the Hobbits in combat, but as the moon crept into the sky and he took first watch, she began to occupy his thoughts once more. He listened for signs of danger as he watched her sleep curiously, and it was only when he woke Aragorn for shift change that he put his mind at momentary ease and drifted off to rest.

When Arianna awoke, she was stiff and achy all over. Shuffling sleepily, she noticed the scent of bacon in the air. She took a deep inhale, savoring the smell. It had been ages since she'd had bacon. It was delicious – the food of the gods, really – but it was so bad for her, and she couldn't really get over the fact that it had once been a pig's stomach. It wasn't that she was any sort of animal activist (though she certainly didn't endorse some of the cruelty animals faced in the process of becoming meals), it just sort of skeezed her out to know that whenever she was eating bacon, it was kind of like stabbing a pig and stripping pieces of its underbelly away for consumption. Wrinkling her nose, she shook away the thought; it was making her nauseated.

She instead turned her thoughts to the bizarre dream she'd had: a dream where she had landed in the middle of Eregion and encountered Legolas, who proceeded to tell her she had indeed been transferred to Middle Earth. The thought was thrilling and terrifying all at the same time. She had been a Lord of the Rings nerd since she was nine, when she had first picked up the books. Her collection included nearly every book Tolkien had penned concerning the magical land of Elves and Wizards and Hobbits, and she could recall many facts about it with the speed and accuracy of Google itself. Falling into Middle Earth would be amazing, getting to experience everything first hand. Then again, at the same time, being pulled into such an unbalanced and unfamiliar world would admittedly be terrifying.

Sitting up, she finally hauled her eyes open. The sun was bright overhead and she had to squint to let her eyes adjust. Underneath her was an itchy wool blanket; it was covering a flat patch of deadened earth, and rocks and hills and mountains surrounded her. From a distance, she could hear the babble of a river, and from somewhere very nearby, the chattering of several voices. Her eyes widened and she turned, spinning onto her knees and resting her weight on her hands, which she placed firmly in front of her to keep her balance. It hadn't been a dream. Not five feet away, nine people sat in a makeshift circle, eating and smoking and speaking sociably to each other.

"Some bacon, Mr. Frodo?"

"Thank you, Sam."

"Is there anymore?"

"A few pieces left for the lady."

"…Do you think she eats bacon?"

"Well, we'll find out when she wakes up. Until then, I'll be keeping hold of it so you two don't make off and leave her to starve."

"We wouldn't let her starve!"

"She's tiny! I bet she doesn't eat it."

Arianna stood, making her way quietly over to the group. Legolas had his back to her, but she could tell by the way he shifted slightly that he had heard her.

"Pippin's right," she offered quietly as she stood just outside their circle. Her left arm was tight against her side, and she held her elbow nervously. "I'm not very fond of bacon."

Almost immediately, she found herself under the scrutiny of nine pairs of eyes. They all held their own emotion: surprise, curiosity, suspicion, and in Gandalf's case, a slight sparkle of mirth. Her stomach started doing worried flip-flops as they all eyed her silently. It was unnerving to be studied so closely by people who could easily kill her if they didn't believe her story.

Gandalf was the first to speak up. "But you like apples, I'm sure. Come and sit."

Arianna tottered on shaky legs to an empty spot between Aragorn and Gandalf. She was handed a shiny, red apple and she nodded at Aragorn in thanks. She hesitated a moment before biting into it, the story of Snow White suddenly popping into her head. She shook away the ridiculous idea that it might be magically poisoned and bit into it. The taste exploded into her mouth; it was sweet and crisp, and it made her realize how hungry she really was. Now that she remembered falling into Middle Earth and having a veritable shitfit hadn't been a dream, she took the time to consider how long it had been since she'd eaten. It was dinner the night before she awoke by the river, at 6:45, if she remembered correctly. (It had consisted of a turkey sandwich and some strawberries for dessert.) That's an easy thirty hours, considering it must be at least 9 or 10 in the morning now.

Pippin looked up from his breakfast suddenly. "How did you know my name?"

Arianna paused, just as she was about to take another bite of her apple. She slowly brought it down, hanging her head to stare at it. She had expected the questions, just not so soon, not so blunt. But what could she do? This was the Fellowship; if she was going to get help from anyone, they (next to Elrond or Galadriel) were likely her very best bet.

"I know all of your names," she admitted shyly. Something heavy settled in her stomach. She did know all of their names. She practically knew all of their lives: much of their past, all of their future. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed. It was as if she had intruded on them in the most personal way. She couldn't stop herself, however. The word vomit that followed seemed to flow as naturally as the river.

"Frodo the Ringbearer, Samwise the Brave, Merry the light-hearted, Pippin the knave. Legolas, Elven-kin, Gimli a Dwarf, Strider, a Ranger out of the North. Boromir, Gondor-bred, Gandalf a wizard – Could've turned anyone into a lizard! This is the Fellowship, that of the Ring, Strange to be sure, but a wonderful thing."

"My, my," Gandalf laughed, "what a verse!" The rest of the Fellowship looked at him in surprise. He seemed to be the only one who wasn't unnerved by her well-informed rhyme. "Very enjoyable, indeed. Though I think, from now on, we should not speak about such things so openly." He gave Arianna a gentle, reprimanding look.

"Yes," she responded, flustered. "Of course." If there had been any of Saruman's spies about, she just clued them in on the entire plan of the Fellowship.

"Have you a verse about your own name?" Pippin asked with a grin. Interested as he was about how she knew his name, he had thoroughly enjoyed the limerick.

Arianna gave a small laugh. "No! There are no rhymes about me!"

"What is your name then, my lady? I shall make one for you!"

Arianna nearly choked. "My name is Arianna, but please, there's really no need to go singing about me!" She really hoped he wouldn't. True to his promise, though, Pippin, with the help of Merry, began tossing ideas for rhymes back and forth.

"While the hobbits compose your verse," Gandalf began, "perhaps we can have a more serious talk about your situation." Arianna nodded. As confusing a conversation as it would be, she was eager for it. Gandalf would surely know how to send her home.

"Before we begin, let me ask you: are you familiar with a place called," Gandalf paused, recalling a word that sounded foreign on his tongue, "Pennsylvania?"

Arianna's eyes widened. "Pennsylvania?" she repeated. "Yes! Yes, that's a state not far from where I'm from!" Before she could ask him how he knew of it, he was nodding at her.

"I thought as much."

How would Gandalf know of Pennsylvania? Are the worlds not entirely separate, or has someone told him about it? Arianna's heart jumped into her throat. Her eyes widened as she stared at Gandalf, who had a knowing look on his face. "I'm not the first one?"

"No, you are not."

Arianna couldn't contain a grin. She wasn't the first! That meant that Gandalf had dealt with this situation before! She was absolutely sure he would know how to send her home!

"The other?" Arianna probed immediately. "Who was it? How did they get back?"

At this, Gandalf looked troubled. "I am afraid, Lady Arianna, that I must disappoint your expectations, for I do not know."

Arianna deflated immediately. "…What?" Her voice had dropped several notches, and it came out breathy, as if she'd just been punched in the stomach. Figuratively speaking, she had.

Gandalf pulled out his pipe and began smoking. Arianna suddenly remembered her own cigarettes, stuffed in her pocket against her hip. Twitchily, she moved her hand towards them. She was a smoker, but luckily, she had never been the kind of person to get addicted to things. She thought that a cigarette might be nice right about now, now that Gandalf had just crushed any hopes she had of getting home. But the deep melancholy that circled through her mind also seemed to dissipate the urge to smoke.

"The other," Gandalf began, "a young woman named Sara, arrived in Rivendell under the same remarkable circumstances as you have arrived here. As I hear it, she was found by a party of guards and taken immediately to Lord Elrond. Much like you, she wore strange clothes and had strange mannerisms, and she was very flustered to learn that she was in Middle Earth." Arianna fought the urge to roll her eyes. Flustered was an understatement. "Naturally, Lord Elrond questioned her, and even sought me out to consult on the matter. We were both baffled by her strange appearance." Gandalf's face became grave. "She was a sad girl; she had seen too much in her short life. I suppose the shock of traversing realities took its toll. The only thing Lord Elrond and I were able to conclude before we found her dead in her room, a mere three days after her arrival, was that she had been sent by the Valar. To what end, we were never to know."

Arianna blinked. "You mean she…killed herself?"

"I'm afraid so."

Arianna felt a strange compulsion to reassure Gandalf. "I won't kill myself." Maybe she needed to reassure herself. No. Arianna frowned, her face stern. She didn't need to reassure herself of anything. She would never throw away her life like that, even if it was confusing as shit. There was always something to live for.

"I am glad to hear it." Gandalf inclined his head. There was a lapse in conversation. Gandalf moved his gaze to the others. "Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, it seems the hobbits have abandoned their rhyme. Why don't you use this time to teach them some swordsmanship?"

The three recognized the dismissal and turned towards the rest of the company.

"Now you're going to ask me how I knew about the Fellowship," Arianna whispered, focusing very intently on her twiddling thumbs.

"I am quite curious."

Arianna felt no need to lie to Gandalf, but she was sure the truth would be difficult for him to swallow. Or maybe it wouldn't. Maybe he would take it with good graces. He was a wizard, after all; he was privy to some pretty cosmic shit. "You'll think it's strange," she said anyway. "It might be hard to believe." When Gandalf said nothing to that, she heaved a heavy sigh.

"Imagine…a history book." Yeah, that was a good way to start. "Except not." And a good way to confuse someone. "I knew about Legolas, about you and the Fellowship – this entire world, because I read it in a book. Back in my world, Middle Earth isn't real." She brought her eyes up to him, feeling her throat tighten. "You aren't real. None of you are. Back where I'm from, this is just a story, the product of someone's imagination. It's an epic fantasy, a story of Frodo and his…" Arianna paused, remembering Gandalf's warning about speaking so openly. "…and his journey."

Gandalf stared long and hard at her, taking in what she said. Then, slowly, he asked, "I assume that you've read this story in its entirety?"

Arianna nodded, shrinking. "Yes."

"Then you know the fate of this Fellowship, perhaps even, the fate of Middle Earth."

Again, she hung her head and answered in a quiet voice, almost ashamed. "Yes."

Gandalf didn't say anything for a moment. The seconds of silence seemed to tick by, each of them feeling like hours to Arianna. She picked at her fingers nervously, biting the inside of her lip as she felt her heart hammer.

"The Valar have strange intentions, indeed." When he finally spoke, it was in a light tone. Arianna brought her eyes up slowly, and realized Gandalf was giving her a gentle smile. "It would be best if you kept your knowledge to yourself, I think."

"Wait! You mean you believe me?"

Gandalf nodded. "I do. But I must impress upon you the seriousness of your situation. You were brought to this world for a purpose, Lady Arianna, and that alone makes you very extraordinary."

Arianna nodded. She didn't have a damn clue what her purpose was, and she doubted that she was extraordinary, but she nodded nonetheless.

"It would be best for you to accompany us to Lothlórien. From there, we can consult with the Lady of the Woods and get word to Elrond in Rivendell. Their sight extends farther than mine; perhaps they can be of assistance."

Again, Arianna nodded. Several things flashed through her mind at once: the mountain, the mines, the orcs, the Balrog, Gandalf falling. She would live the adventure together with the Company (if she survived the dangers) and then go to Lothlórien…to do what? Meditate with Galadriel about why she was here?

"And after we get to Lothlórien," she hesitated, "what will I do then? I mean, when the Fellowship leaves. Will I stay?"

"The choice is yours, I would say."

"All right." Arianna tried to sound resolute, but her voice broke with emotion. "All right," she repeated, nodding one last time.

"One last thing, my dear," Gandalf took on a grave look. "The knowledge you possess may feel like a blessing, but I must warn you: it does not give you power. While you are here, you should not tempt fate. Do not attempt to alter anything that is to happen."

This was easy enough. "I understand. Everything happens for a reason."

"Quite right."

The matter was settled with a few more words, and Gandalf introduced Arianna to the others as their new companion. Dusk was looming overhead and they all took a light supper. Something gnawed at Arianna's mind, though. Gandalf's warning wasn't one she was about to ignore; she wouldn't dare try to change what was supposed to happen – that would be mayhem. But the way he spoke, his voice low and somber, made Arianna wonder.

Did he know? Did he know he was the first to die?

I always use to read OC/Legomance stories where the girl felt the constant need to lie because of what she knew. For some of the stories, it worked well enough - there was a purpose behind it. But in most of the stories, the lie was irrelevant. It just made the main character seem untrustworthy to me. :\ Not that this is a self-insert in disguise, but if I were to fall into Middle Earth and meet the Fellowship, I wouldn't feel the need to lie to them; I really don't see the purpose. So, yes, Arianna told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. :) And in got her into the group! Moral of the story? Lie bad. Lie bad for you. :D

Also, kudos to whoever the fuck I. Salogel is for the wicked little rhyme that Arianna spouted out. That's definitely not mine, and I definitely do not claim to be able to rhyme so skillfully. You can see the original (or at least, where I found it) here, at the verrry bottom of the page: wiki/Fellowship_of_the_Ring

So, uh, I think that about wraps up chapter 2! :) As always, I'd love to know your thoughts. All forms of feedback are welcome! Thanks again for reading, and see you next tiiimme!