Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings and I write this story as an avid fan with no profit or gain.

Chapter 12

It was the roars and hollers of victory that first caught Rúmil's attention. He turned away from the conversation slightly, allowing his eyes to subtly look past the shoulders of the elleth who stood in front of him. Beyond her, slightly hidden by the large barrels of ale were tables. A considerable crowd of elves sat or stood there, all watching something with avid interest. Rúmil chuckled, realizing the guards had commenced their usual drinking games and challenges. Normally he joined, but now that he had Tiriel things were different. He began to look away, returning his attention to Tiriel and their companions when a flash of black hair caught his eyes. His humor vanished abruptly when Lauren vanished from view, hidden by the bodies of several elves again.

"Pardon me," Rúmil said softly and gave Tiriel a meaningful look. Her brow furrowed slightly, but she said nothing. Weaving his way through the sea of bodies, Rúmil approached the tables and nearly groaned. Sitting at the center table were several elves and Lauren, all currently downing a goblet of wine. They drank greedily and quickly, clearly in competition. Rúmil watched in slight horror as a thin river of wine flowed from the corner of Lauren's mouth, down her neck, and vanished to the skin below her dress. Two elves triumphantly slammed their empty goblets on the table, then Lauren did the same, and the rest followed.

Behind Lauren stood Beriadan and Rúmil pushed his way to the elf, feeling irritation rise in him. "Beriadan!"

The younger elf looked at Rúmil with a smile on his face, clearly enjoying the drinking game. However, when he took in the serious expression on the other guard's face the smile began to fade. Rúmil motioned towards the woman who sat laughing and waiting for her next goblet of wine. "How many drinks has she consumed?"

Beriadan frowned, "I do not know for certain."

"Are you not her companion for the evening?" Rúmil asked a little too loudly because the woman heard and turned around slowly.

Lauren beamed as she exclaimed, "Rúmil! Come, join us!"

Her words were slurred and her eyes struggled to keep focus on him. Rúmil gave Beriadan a harsh look, causing the younger elf to wince slightly. "Thank you for the offer, but perhaps you would like to join me and Tiriel? It seems like you have had enough wine for the evening."

The tanned woman huffed and pushed him away, "Are you kidding? I'm winning!"

"You should not-"

"Don't spoil my fun Rúmil!" The woman wagged a finger playfully at him.

"It is not wise to-"

Her good mood faded quickly as she tired of his challenges. "I'm a grown woman, let me make my own decisions."

"But-"

"Rúmil," The woman's voice turned bitter. "You are not my father or even my brother. Do not pretend to be so."

He knew that her drunken words should not hurt him, but they did. Before he could formulate a reply an elf arrived with the next round of goblets and the crowd cheered. Gold coins were exchanged, guards making new bets. Suddenly, one of the elves who had appeared to make it past the last round fell back in his chair and snored loudly. A mixture of reactions swept through the elves. Some groaned, having lost money while others shouted in excitement. One more elf out of the competition. Several elves looked to Lauren, as if expecting the woman to also fall out of the competition. Lauren did not falter though, she too was excited to see one less competitor.

"You should not have encouraged her," Rúmil muttered to Beriadan. He considered returning to Tiriel, but he realized his worry for Lauren would distract him for the rest of the evening. So he stayed, waiting until Lauren would too lose. He never thought anyone would surpass his eldest brother in stubbornness, but then she had literally dropped into his world. If she and Haldir were not on such poor terms, he would have sought the Marchwarden out now. Haldir often reached Lauren when no one else could, probably because of that damn stubbornness they shared.

"Begin!"

Lauren and the elves lifted the goblets to their mouths and the next round began. The yells of encouragement only seemed to attract more elves to the table, including Tiriel. She came to Rúmil's side and murmured, "This will not end well."

They watched two more rounds of the drinking and before the third could begin, Lauren stood up. She struggled and just when it looked like she steadied out, she fell backwards with a loud laugh. Beriadan caught her easily and looked to Rúmil for guidance. Elves cheered as Lauren said lazily, "I'm out, I'm out. But I'll be back next time and I'll win!"

"Let's take her home," Rúmil advised. The younger guard nodded and hoisted the woman into his arms.

Lauren burped loudly and then pushed against Beriadan's chest. "Let me down! I can walk!"

Beriadan let her down and Lauren took a step forward, swaying deeply to the side until she half-leaned on Tiriel.

The elleth gave her friend an exasperated look, "It does not count as walking if you use me."

The woman looked affronted, "It totally counts."

"Come on," Rúmil grabbed Lauren and threw her across his shoulder. "If you're going to be sick, please tell me so I may drop you."

"Aw, thanks buddy." Lauren said sarcastically. "Seriously, I'm fine. I want to go dancing, put me down."

"You are in no condition to dance," Tiriel told her.

"Party poopers," Lauren said. "It's my damn birthday, I can do whatever I want."

"Do birthdays in your world involve becoming intoxicated beyond functioning?" Tiriel asked sweetly.

"Yes and if you don't, you're doing it wrong." Lauren muttered. She closed her eyes, tired of the world spinning around, and let the alcohol carry her to sleep.

...

...

The air was incredibly hot and sticky. Lauren wiped the back of her hand across her forehead in vain. Trails of sweat still leaked into her eyes, making them blink in irritation. She looked around in confusion. She stood in a dark cavern and moved forward, touching the stone walls with her finger tips and yelped. Even the walls were hot! Lauren slowly moved out of the cavern, following a tunnel that led out to a red hue of light. As she walked, the heat seemed to increase and when she exited the tunnel, Lauren knew why. The molten lava at the bottom of the volcano sputtered and turned, almost angrily.

"Choose," A man's voice said. He spoke loudly, his deep voice bouncing off the walls of the volcano.

Lauren turned slowly, already knowing who joined her in this ridiculously sweltering nightmare. The same giant man in black, slick armor stared at her. She could not see Sauron's eyes but she had a feeling that was for the best. A bleak darkness hung in the shadows of his helmet, but she could feel his gaze on her.

Lauren did not cower or step away. She heard the way the elves spoke of this evil man and she understood their great fear for his power, but magic didn't exist in her world. Evil magic men only existed in fairy tales and movies, they weren't something to actually be frightened of. Besides, this wasn't real. Lauren stared back at the man and frowned, "Choose what?"

"Choose which world."

Her frown deepened, "What do you mean?"

Sauron took a step forward and Lauren forced herself to stay in place. He leaned forward and said, "If you will not fight for me mortal, then you must choose your death. I will send you to your world so you may die there or…"

"Or what?"

"Or you can die in this world fighting against me." Sauron began to circle her slowly, her helmet never turning away from her. He seemed oblivious to the heat and chuckled darkly, "You do not belong here, this is not your world. A mortal with such powers is dangerous has no place in Middle Earth, least of all with the elves. I will send you home, is that not what you desire?"

"Why?" Lauren's eyes narrowed. "Why would you send me home? Last time you said I could either fight for you or die."

"If I cannot have you, then no one will. Sending you home will prevent my foes from using you."

Lauren eyed the man suspiciously but considered his words. She should dismiss them as more lies. If two powerful elves and a wizard couldn't find a way… Maybe dark magic could. She could be home! Back with her family, driving in a car, using modern plumbing, and television. He was right, this wasn't her world and she needed to go back. Lauren shook her head, forcing the thoughts of home away. This man was responsible for a war and mass killings. No way in hell could she ever turn to him for help. No matter how desperate she grew, she couldn't.

"No," She said quietly. "I would rather die here than let you help me."

Sauron stopped in front of her. "You choose this world then?"

"Yes." Lauren felt her heart grow heavy with her answer. She wished she could go home, more than anything in the world. Literally. She'd grown up with a code of morality though and her father would never turn to evil for help.

"Foolish thing," Sauron said and without warning threw an arm out. The black armor thrust against Lauren's chest and she screamed as she fell back, feeling only hot air press against her back as she came closer and closer to the lava. Her arms reached out, fingers taunt as her body hit the lava.

...

...

The vomit that spewed from her mouth tasted absolutely awful and bitter. Lauren winced and groaned, "Disgusting."

"Indeed."

The voice made Lauren freeze. With a pulsating headache, she slowly looked up and took notice of her surroundings. A hand held a bucket to the side of her bed, successfully catching her sickness. The other hand reached behind her head and held her hair out of the way.

"You?" She blinked in surprise.

Haldir's face remained blank he set the bucket down and released her hair. Leaning back in his chair, the elf scrutinized her for a few moments before asking, "How are you feeling?"

The surprise of seeing Haldir sitting at her side had momentarily caused Lauren to forget her terrible hangover. His words seemed to unleash pain through her head and stomach and she fell back into the bed. "Awful, just awful. What happened?"

"You do not remember?"

"I remember dancing with Beriadan," She rubbed her temples gingerly. "After that nothing much."

"You joined the guards' drinking game."

Despite her illness, Lauren's eyes lit up. "How'd I do?"

The elf gave her bemused look, "I did not witness it myself but from what Beriadan tells me, you did well."

"Good." She smiled in self-satisfaction.

Haldir shook his head and offered her a cup of water. Sitting up, Lauren took it gratefully and drank slowly. The water felt refreshing and she kept smiling, content to have her friend speaking to her again. However, her smile vanished at his next words.

"You were mumbling in your sleep. Did you have a nightmare?"

She shrugged, "Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

The Marchwarden of the city sighed. "As you wish."

Lauren gaped, "Y-Youre not going to argue with me?"

"I have learned that arguing with you brings unpleasant consequences."

They locked eyes and stared at each other, coming to an understanding. She did not ask any more questions and he did not offer any more of an explanation. Eventually, Lauren pushed the blanket off her and found herself wearing the same dress from last night. Down the front of the dress were wine stains and she grinned, "Wow I really went all out didn't I?"

"I am not familiar with that phase," Haldir said cautiously. "But if you mean that you drank like a starved animal then yes."

"Something like that," Lauren stood up very slowly and motioned towards the door. "I'll change and then let's take a walk. I think fresh air will help."

Wearing a fresh tunic and with a newly cleaned mouth, Lauren joined Haldir who waited outside her home. As they walked, Lauren used a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Her eyes stung, sensitive to the light even though the forest canopy greatly filtered the raw sunlight.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, it's just odd." Lauren's pride forced her to drop the hand. Her eyes failed to adjust to the daylight and she continued to walk with them squinted. "I've never had this bad of a hangover. My eyes haven't ever been this sensitive before."

"Perhaps Elvin wine has more potency that your world's."

Lauren winced. "Could you maybe not shout?"

The Marchwarden gave her a puzzled look and said, "I am not shouting."

She covered her ears, trying to block out his loud reply. His words seemed to boom and her head felt like it was being rattled. What was happening to her? Why did the world feel like it was attacking her? Everything was overwhelming. Haldir's words, steps, and even breathing seemed to be amplified beyond control. Every sound around her hit her ears so powerfully she thought she was dying. The light burned her eyes and she slammed them closed, unable to cope. Lauren came to a halt and crouched, bring her arms over her head protectively.

"What's happening to me?" She did not know if she screamed or whispered, all she knew was that it needed to stop. Her senses needed to revert back to normal. Perhaps it was the wine. Perhaps too much alcohol in this world affected mortals differently than elves. Whatever the cause, Lauren wished it would just end! She felt her throat burn as she shouted in pain, muscles tensing and tightening. Would it just end? She needed it to end!

And suddenly it did. Arms wrapped around her, taking a firm but gentle hold of her. Haldir did not say anything, he simply seemed to shelter her body with his. It was as if he shielded her from the world and after several seconds, her breathing steadied and the pounding of her head began to ease. Experimentally, Lauren lifted her palms from her ears and waited, but nothing strange happened. She lifted her head and found herself staring into two bright blue eyes. Haldir watched her anxiously, eyes scanning her face for any sign of pain or struggle. His eyes settled back into her own and he leaned his forehead against hers. "What in the name of the Valar was that?"

"I… I don't know," Lauren said in bewilderment. "It was like my senses exploded. I could feel, see, hear, and taste everything. It was as if I…" Then without warning, she threw herself to the side and vomited again. Instead of keeping his distance, Haldir reached out once again and held her hair out of the way and supported her back.

"I will carry you to the healers."

"No, no I don't need their help. It has to be the wine."

"Does that sort of reaction happen in your world?" Haldir asked doubtfully.

"No," She admitted. "Maybe you're right, maybe your wine did something to me."

"Regardless of what caused it, the healers will have something to help soothe your stomach. Come, let us go."

"Fine," Lauren sighed. "But I can walk, no need to carry me."

Haldir smirked, "Of course not."

They never spoke of his cruel words again or discussed her mortality over the next four months. They also did not speak of the strange event that morning and to Lauren's relief, it did not repeat itself. Still, something had changed in her. She did not dare speak of it to anyone, especially Haldir, but she felt different. No, she felt better. Once her hangover had worn off, her eyes stopped hurting and stomach settled down. When she walked, she felt lighter and faster. When she listened, it was as if someone had removed earmuffs and she was truly hearing for the first time. When she looked, it was like wearing glasses for a prescription she didn't realize she'd needed. The world, everything around her came into focus. At first she thought it was the healer's tonic for her stomach that strange morning, but when she'd waken up the next morning and the morning after that… It never went away. This feeling of being truly alive stayed with her. Besides her physical improvement, Lauren felt happier as the months flew by too. With Haldir reinstated in her life, her mood lifted and she felt content to have her friendship returned.

"Stop daydreaming!" The voice told her as something hit the back of her head and Lauren watched a small rock catch in her hair before falling to the branch below her. She glowered at the elf who sat crouched in the tree besides hers. Lauren shifted in place, switching her weight to her right leg. Squatting in tree branches for hours at a time would still make her legs burn if she remained still for too long.

She drew a finger across her neck in a deadly manner and then pointed at Rúmil. The Elvin guard rolled his eyes and then returned his attention to watching the forest floor. They'd been on patrol for five days now, still refreshed from their time in the city. As much as she hated to it, Rúmil had indeed caught her daydreaming. She couldn't help it though, her last day in the city had proven thought provoking. Haldir had surprised her that morning with a basket full of cheese and bread then taken her to the river for a private breakfast. He had never done that before.

Lauren snapped to attention when Rúmil stood up suddenly. He lifted his arm and made the signal for caution. At first she heard nothing, which made sense with her mortal hearing, but then her ears caught the sounds. Footsteps in the distance crunched the leaves on the forest floor. The newcomer moved at a relaxed pace and made no attempt to sneak through the forest. Slowly, the Lothlórien guard began to jump through the branches towards the threat. Lauren tossed her bow across her back and leapt through the air, finally adept at traveling with the elves. Looking below, she saw a strangely dressed man walking with an impressive walking stick. The mood of the elves around her changed instantaneously. The strain in their bodies relaxed and many fell to the forest floor without arrows loaded. Confused, Lauren remained in the branches above.

"Mithrandir!" An elf shouted in greeting.

The man lifted his large, strange grey hat and beamed. He was an older man, the wrinkles on his face matching those over his clothing. He wore long, heavy grey traveling clothes and carried no bags. To her surprise, the man greeted the elves in their language and called some by their names. Clearly this man had been to the city before.

Lauren felt her heart begin to beat quickly. This was the first man she'd meet in this world. For the first time in years she would finally meet another mortal like her. Excited, Lauren let herself descend the tree. She could not jump from the higher branches like the elves, but her body had grown increasingly tolerant of the jumps from lower ones. When she finally landed on the forest floor, the stranger had shifted his attention to her.

"Ah," The stranger smiled at her widely. "You must be Lauren Harris."

"Hello," She nodded her head. "Who are you?"

"I am Gandalf the Grey my dear," The wizard responded. "And I am here to help you."