CHAPTER TWO.

My eyes fluttered open to be met by a blue, cloudless sky and a concerned face peering at me.

For a few seconds, I was confused. I was on the ground - I remembered falling, and I remembered how much it hurt - but this wasn't Amy looking at me. My tongue felt too dry and heavy for my mouth, and when I tried to speak, it came out as a garbled mess. I blinked, smacked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and bravely tried again.

"Who are you?"

The face seemed mildly surprised that I was capable of intelligent speech. I felt a cold hand against my forehead. "Hush, now. You are feverish." I was pretty aware of that. Heat emanated in waves from my lower stomach, and I struggled to sit up.

The face came in and out of focus, all at once appearing close to mine and miles away. "I asked who - you - are." I almost bit my tongue speaking. My vision had begun to clear: I was now able to see the wildflowers clustered around my legs. Bare legs. From my thighs to my shoulders, I was covered by a sheet of dark cloth. Thank god for small blessings.

It all came rushing back: the pain, the fire, the voice. My clothes melting away and leaving me... what is this? Reborn?

I studied my hands. They looked like my hands: small and calloused. Unchanged. I pressed my palm against my lower stomach and immediately winced at the applied pressure. Something small and knotty rested in my belly button.

What had the voice called it? Life-stone?

Cold hands touched my cheeks and I jerked back in surprise, my bleary eyes landing on the face again. This time I was able to attach said face to a head, and the head to a body. The person in front of me came full-focus: a tall woman dressed in silver. It took me all of two seconds to notice the circlet on her pale brow and the jarringly long ears jutting from her skull.

I screamed.

She fell back in surprise, clutching her hands to her chest as if she'd been burned. Concern clouded her dark eyes. "My lady! Please, I am only trying to help. Are you alright?"

In hindsight, I probably should have kept my mouth shut. To be fair, shock is a hell of a drug, and it's not every day I see a hard-core Tolkien cosplayer, or whatever the fuck she's trying to be. She fit the bill beautifully - but god damn, those ears looked way too real for my comfort. The rest of her outfit didn't set me at ease, either: her billowy dress, the quiver of arrows strapped to her back, and the curved knife set at her hip.

I tried to calm my beating heart. "J-just give me a moment. Who did you say you were, again?"

She inches closer. Just a bit. We're both wary of each other, I can tell. I know that I'm a stranger to her - a naked one, at that - but between the two of us, which one is acting more weird? It's not just me, right?

"My name is Irissë Ar-Feiniel," she replies. "I found you on my morning ride. You were lying here, in the flowers, like a.. like a corpse. I meant no offense approaching."

"Corpse isn't too far off," I mumbled to myself, flexing my fingers. My joints felt sore and stiff, but I was positive of one thing: I was absolutely not dead. "I'm.. thank you. I'm Jolene Wong."

"Wong..." The woman tilts her head to the side. "I have not heard of this house of Tirion. Are you a Noldor elf, or do you come from another host?"

Now she had to be messing with me. She had to be, because... elves... we all know they only existed in fairy tales and fantasy novels. And Noldor? I stared blankly at my lap for a few seconds, wondering where I'd heard that before. It definitely sounded familiar - like something I'd heard of playing Elder Scrolls, or..

Or...

My stomach burned in protest as I tried to stand, clutching the cloth around my body. Irissë, seeing me stumble, got to her feet as well, catching my elbow before I face-planted. She was alarmingly strong, tugging me back onto firm standing. I stared at the ground, more than a bit shocked and overwhelmed.

"Are you alright?" She asked tenderly, and I shook my head. "N-no, I'm not. I think I..."

I couldn't finish my sentence.

Because when I raised my head, I saw what I had failed to notice before: the white-marbled city rising in the distance, towers stretching towards a sky. And the eyrie beyond the city walls, with birds of an immense and impossible size wheeling in the sky.

I awoke for the second time to an intense barnyard smell: fur, manure, and leathery saddle-soap. My body shifted as I tried to sit up, and I almost fell off the horse I was riding. More accurately, I was strapped in like a toddler, wrapped in Irissë's cloak and getting chafed in regions I would really regret.

The dark-haired woman glanced up at me when I made an unintelligible noise - something that sounded like wusz hap'nen? - and gifted me with a glittering smile. "I have never seen an elf with such a talent for passing out, Lady Wong." Her laugh tinkled in the air like little bells. "Rest easy, we are almost to the house of my grandfather."

I was not super excited about that - I had zero idea why she would feel the need to take me to an old man's house - and distracted myself by raising my sleepy head to look around me. Irissë was leading the horse through a busy street, and I became increasingly aware of suspicious, bemused, and/or concerned looks tossed in my direction. The people here were tall, dressed in gowns and robes and tunics of soft, rich colors, some adorned with gold jewelry and all with hair at least reaching their waists. A few wore silver armor and carried spears, faces obscured by helmets peaking with soft white plumes at the crown of their heads.

That, and the enormous birds I'd seen... I was beginning to think that the Voice had been right. This wasn't Earth - it couldn't be.

If it was, I definitely would have heard of a place like this. From what I could see as we passed by, the city was beautiful: white stone with spiraling stairs leading up towers, levels of the buildings rising higher and higher until it culminated at a massive citadel in the center.

"Hey, um... Irissë." I ignored the soft burning of the stone buried in my belly-button. Or tried to, at least. It felt like warm fingers were pressing into my gut, which was uncomfortable for a number of reasons. "What is this place?"

She looked back at me, unable to mask the shock on her features. I really couldn't tell how old she was. Definitely elder than my tender eighteen, but she couldn't be a day over twenty-five. Why, then, did her eyes sparkle with sheltered, childish youth? I was distracted enough that I barely caught her answer: "You truly do not know the great city of the Noldor? This is Tirion upon Túna -"

"Like the fish?"

I was ignored. Figures. Irissë continued, "Ruled from its seat beneath Mindon Eldaliéva by my grandfather." She cast me another look, this one less pointed and more bewildered. "Which elven-tribe do you come from? You never told me."

There she goes again. Calling me elf. Until a few hours ago, I hadn't even considered immortality was a thing. Or reincarnation, for that matter. I felt a little bad for laughing at her - especially when her face fell as if she'd said something horribly wrong. "No, no, please," I quickly tried to console her. "It's just - I'm not.. I don't like pretending to be something I'm not. Like, an elf... which I am not."

The life-stone hummed. I poked at it and promptly doubled over in pain. For a divine gift bestowed upon me, it really didn't seem to do much.

Fortunately, Irissë didn't notice. Unfortunately, she was laughing at me this time. Her laugh - once again - was light and beautiful, like wind chimes. But from her mouth. "How droll, Lady Wong. I've never seen an elleth deny her heritage before!" Her brow furrowed, creasing her forehead, and her voice took on a more somber tone. "Are you alright, though? These are... rather unprecedented times, but I cannot imagine how a child of Ilúvatar could act thusly."

There's another familiar word. I tried to place it, but I was still hung up on the fact that Irissë was out of her damn mind. I shake my head. "I'm not three feet tall and I don't live with Santa. And I don't have goddamn pointy ears!" I thrust a finger at the side of my head for emphasis.

Irissë looked at me like I'd grown a third eye, but that wouldn't have been the strangest thing to happen to me lately. "You... you do, Lady Wong. Did you hit your head?"

I felt the sides of my noggin. My ear lobes felt normal. But then my fingers travelled upwards, tracing along my outer ear. The helix extended an extra inch and ended in an anatomically-incorrect pointed tip. While my hands were up there, I also felt for bumps and dents in my skull. Nothing. Just me and my transmutation.

So this is what the voice said about rebirth.

Despite knowing that, it was hard to calm my churning stomach. I wondered what else had changed. My hands looked like... well, me, like I'd observed earlier. What about my face? Was I even recognizable? Oh, god, I'm going to throw up.

The elven lady - I don't think I'm going to get used to that reality - must have noticed, because she reached out, grasping my arm and helping me from her horse. I tried to make sure that the cloak covered everything important as I half-fell off, but I might've flashed somebody. That was the last thing on my mind right now. "You look ill," Irissë murmured, putting her arm around my shoulder. She was much taller than me, and evidently stronger, because she didn't seem to mind supporting me. "Look, we've arrived at the House of Finwë. Just a few steps more, Lady Wong."

She was nice - too nice. I felt bad for relying so heavily on her in the span of an hour. I steadied myself, trying not to let the unease take hold as I stared up at the palace. That wasn't an exaggeration. When she'd said house, I was expecting something smaller. But I was dwarfed by the steps leading up to a massive door and the carved white stone that made up the walls.

It was beautiful, and the tower behind it cast a soft glow on the sage-green roofs of the palace and the sparkling fountains that decorated the courtyard. My mouth must have been hanging open, because Irissë let out a soft laugh. "I am beginning to think you are not from here, Lady Wong. The splendor of our Noldor house is known throughout Aman."

"Gee, you think?" I mutter under my breath. Only about three of the words she'd said made sense to me. I'd hurt my head thinking too hard about it. "Am I... allowed to go in?"

First things first: clothes. I'm not a particularly chaste girl, but I had long since passed the point of discomfort.

"Of course you are. I will make you my guest," the friendly woman exclaimed in surprise, putting her arm around my shoulders once more and leading me up the steps. I tried to ignore the stares of the armored guards flanking the doors. They weren't creepy or hungry - just cold, icy cold, and suspicious, and somehow that was worse.

Thankfully, for a palace, there weren't many people hanging around. If you don't count the sentinels placed at nearly every doorway, standing so still it was almost as if they were silver-plated statues. I didn't look at them, adopting the mouse-like philosophy of pretending if I don't see you, you can't see me.

Finally, Irissë pushed open a door and swept me inside. The door slammed shut behind me and I jumped, cursing under my breath. This room was devoid of people apart from my companion, and it was obviously her bedroom. It was decorated in soft blue colors, gauze around her bed swaying in the breeze. There was no glass in the windows, and a balcony overlooked the city. We'd ascended four floors, and I had to admit, the view was incredible.

Except when a shadow passed over, and I shrieked. Irissë had been going through her wardrobe, and she laughed over her shoulder at me. "Have you never seen a great eagle before? They are used by our guards to protect the city. Do not worry, Lady Wong. They may look fierce, but they would never hurt you or me." She turned to me, gripping a periwinkle-colored cloth in her pale hands. "Do you like this?"

The dress she gave to me was... I'd never seen anything like it except on a television screen. It was layers of gossamer blooming into a full skirt and billowing sleeves that pulled tight at the wrists. The structured bosom looked like it had boning sewn in. Opposed to her dress of silver with metallic embroidery creeping up the skirt and arms, this gown was plain. And beautiful.

I was speechless. Irissë beamed. "You may have it. I have never worn it - the color doesn't suit me."

She was crazy. It was a beautiful color. I reached for it, but Irissë laid it over the back of a wooden chair, its rails carved to look like a mess of vines and leaves. "Oh." I retracted my hand, unsure of what to do next. "Thank you."

Reaching back into the closet, Irissë produced two other garments: a thin, white gown and something that looked like... oh my god, a bra. "You might be smaller than I," she scrutinized, pressing the clothes into my hands. "But our figures, I think, are similar. These will do until you find attire of your own. I will give you privacy to change." One beautiful, warm smile and she left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

Never had I moved quicker than I did then. I dropped the cloak, reaching for the bra. Then I realized I was in way over my head: its band reached down to my belly button, and eyelets down the front secured the fabric together with a ribbon. It wasn't a corset, I would tell: not designed to shape my waist, but to support my breasts. I struggled with the ribbon, finally giving up and knotting it tightly halfway down. Then, after a fruitless search for a pair of Fruit of the Looms, I put on the slip, and finally the blue dress over that.

Its skirt was almost too long, welling on the floor like water and trailing behind me. I picked up fistfuls of fabric, lifting it up to my knees to be able to walk. That's when I caught sight of myself in Irissë's looking glass - a long mirror laid in a silver frame with blue gems - and I stopped moving altogether.

My face. It was still my face. The downturned mouth, the dark eyes that my mother had so often praised, lovingly calling them "phoenix eyes". The mole on my right temple, which I had never been so glad to see. And the ears. The obstinately large, pointed ears.

Why was that the only thing that changed?

I swallowed a lump in my throat. It wasn't. The life-stone seemed to pulse, drawing my attention away from my reflection. "Shut up," I grumbled at it, as if it could hear me. At least having belly button bling was, and I think everyone would agree with me here, better than being dead.

Now I just have to figure out everything else.

The elves. The eagles. This castle.

Walking the path of Eä.

Whatever that meant.

And I'm going to do it in this kick-ass dress.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites! It warms my heart. I'm preparing for exams and graduation right now, so I'm sorry if the writing is a little lackluster or if the updates are infrequent - but I'm still here! You all rock, and stay safe.