Disclaimer: Okay, if you've made it this far, by now you realize that I don't own anything. Let's assume that nothing has changed, shall we? *grin*
As far down as Galadriel's Mirror, Marion followed Galadriel silently, lost in thought.
"I am Lady Galadriel and you are among the Fellowship of the Ring."
The Fellowship of the Ring. The Fellowship of the Ring?? She was actually in the book?? Not just the world, but the book itself? That was just too much. How was that even possible?
Galadriel stopped in front of the pedestal that held her bowl. Clear, fresh water was pooled in it, eerily still. Staring into the water for a second, she turned around so suddenly that Marion almost jumped back.
"You say that you should not be here," she began.
There was a pause while Marion recovered. "That's right," she answered. Then, with more indignation, "This is just a book!"
"How can deny that this is real when you are standing in front of me, in the city of Lothlorien?"
"Because I read this. I read all about it. A guy named J.R.R. Tolkien wrote a book called the Lord of the Rings in a category named fantasy. Fantasy means that it does not exist, could not exist, and never would exist."
"But it does," Galadriel's soothing voice raised for a second. "There are many overlapping worlds. It is not wise to simply dismiss ones other than your own." Before Marion could defend herself, Galadriel knelt down on the spongy grass so that she was only a little taller than Marion and outstretched her left hand to her, calm once again. "Your hand, please?"
Before she obeyed, Marion threw Galadriel a suspicious look. "Why?" Despite all of Galadriel's serenity and beauty, Marion was still wary of the Elven Queen. Galadriel only continued her reassuring smile until Marion did as she had asked. Tentatively, she put her right hand in Galadriel's left. She didn't understand how this explained anything. All that was there was her ring; two bands of silver that twisted around each other in a never ending circle. In the faint light of Lothlorien, it seemed to glow and sparkle. "It's so strange that that's still on," she indicated the ring. "I should have lost it."
"It would be impossible for you to do so."
"Excuse me?" Startled, Marion only stared at Galadriel. Impossible to lose a ring? Tell that to her parents! She was constantly losing jewelry from wandering around in the forest, accidentally leaving it somewhere, or dropping it behind that space between the dresser and the wall which spelled imminent death for jewelry. A simple ring shouldn't have stood a chance against her.
"You wear a magic ring upon your finger. It would only leave you in death." Only in death? Woah…that was a little heavy. When dropped into an unfamiliar and possibly dangerous situation, death was the last word she wanted to hear. Then the words sunk in. A magic ring. Not only was there magic that could transport her into the Lord of the Rings, but some of that magic was contained in a trinket? A trinket she was wearing?
"A magic ring? I'm wearing a magic ring?" Snatching back her hand, Marion thoughtfully examined the ring on her finger again. It was such a simple thing; only two bands of twisted silver. 'You would think that if it was going to be magic, it might as well be something more elaborate, too,' she mused.
"Yes," Galadriel commanded Marion's attention back from the ring by standing up to her full height. "While it is by no means a ring of power, it does hold magic. You see, when the One Ring was uncovered in Gollum's cave by Bilbo, my mirror showed me many different layers of what could be. In all of these futures, Frodo took the responsibility upon himself to destroy the Ring, but the way he did so varied significantly. Frodo set off alone, with Samwise, Peregrin, and Meriadoc, without a Fellowship, with a Fellowship. But, in many of these, he was alone and could not bear the burden – he fell and Sauron recovered the ring. In the likelihood of this event, I cast a ring."
"My ring."
"Your ring," Galadriel confirmed. "The knowledge of how to make the rings of power was lost many years ago, but it was not impossible to mold a ring to a singular will. Yours was cast with a simple desire so great that it became possible for greater things to occur through it."
"A simple desire that makes greater things happen? Like what?"
"The magic within it would bind the wearer to the ringbearer. In a time when the bearer, Frodo, felt extreme and almost unbearable sadness, my ring would call a companion to him. The simple desire was to keep Frodo protected."
"Wait…are you trying to tell me that I'm the one who's supposed to be Frodo's companion?? I'm supposed to protect him?" Marion blanched. Frodo's companion through Mordor? She shook her head, denying the possibility. "But…there is a Fellowship of the Ring, and Frodo is already being accompanied by friends. You don't need me! What am I doing here?"
"I was just informed of something that I could never have foreseen came to pass." With a pause, Galadriel turned sideways, placing a hand on the rim of her mirror. For a second, she seemed to be filled with grief.
Using the pause to think, Marion went over her meager knowledge of what she had read. What had happened right before Lothlorien? "Gandalf fell in the Mines of Moria, making Frodo feel extreme and almost unbearable sadness," she recalled. She frowned while Galadriel regained her calm composure and turned back to Marion. "This is a loophole that I could drive a four by four through. Why didn't you just make the ring call someone here if he set off alone?"
"Because the ring is still a simple object. Even though capable of bringing about complex events, it can only respond to the emotions of the ringbearer and to a smaller extent, the wearer. It was assumed that setting off alone would make the ringbearer feel great sorrow."
"So this thing can send me into a different world, turn me into a hobbit, but it can't tell something mundane as company?" When no answer came, Marion asked instead, "But why am I a hobbit? Why do I have this ring and not someone on Middle Earth?"
"It was sent to a different world because there were none in this world who could wear it. Men are too easily corrupted by the Ring. Elves are slowly fading from this world. Dwarves are too taken with their own wealth and hide in the mountains."
"Well, I'm of the race of man," Marion pointed out.
"Yes, but the Ring only corrupts those who want to wield its power. You, on the other hand, have none of this desire; you only want to go home. It holds nothing over you."
"So you picked my world and me because I wouldn't try to take the ring from Frodo."
"Not exactly you. I chose your world, but the ring responds to emotions. Of the wearer, it was to bind itself to one with a kind heart and courage. I am sure that many on your world would have fulfilled that requirement, but it came upon you. As for being a hobbit, the ring decided to put you in a form Frodo would be more likely to identify with."
Nervously, Marion ran a hand through her still wet hair. She was on Middle Earth, in the Lord of the Rings book, talking to a mythical being, as a mythical being herself. Not only that, but this mythical being wanted her to accompany fictional characters on a made-up quest because she screwed up. Were mythical beings allowed to screw up? This was just too incomprehensible. Galadriel had gotten one thing right, all she wanted was to go home. She wanted to be laughing with her friends or writing in her stories. Just simply being at home would have been preferable to what was happening. Instead she was in a strange body that vaguely had familiar features, but was not her. Despite what Galadriel said, this ring was not just a simple object if it could transform her into a completely different being.
"Why can't I just go home?" Marion threw her eyes to the ground. What good was she doing there in the middle of an unknown world? She was definitely not needed in the Fellowship.
"You cannot leave while you wear the ring; it is what ties you to this plane of existence." Before Marion could tug the ring off, Galadriel continued, "And you will not be able to remove it until the One Ring is destroyed. That part of the enchantment was necessary so that the companion would not simply leave Frodo's side when danger set upon them."
"Well, let's see," Marion started bitterly, "So far this ring rips a person from their home without cause, binds them to a stranger, turns them into a hobbit, won't let them return to their home until they put their life in danger…what else does this thing do? Cause cancer?" Frowning, Galadriel could think of no way to continue. Matching her expression, Marion shook her head. "I don't even understand why I'm here. Tolkien died before I was even born. If he heard about the finished Quest of the Fellowship of the Ring when he was alive, I should have come to a time much farther in the future than now. I mean, this simply – in any and all scientific terms known to man – just can't exist."
"Though it is not common for people of your world to slip into ours, it has been known to happen. This universe is scattered with overlapping places and times. The rifts between worlds are very temperamental; it can throw a person into the past, present, or future of anyplace. This Tolkien of yours must have been cast into the future of Middle Earth, when the quest had already taken place. That has happened to many. Some from your past have happened upon our future. Many from your future have come into our past. Your ring was designed to make sure no matter what time or place the companion was, when he or she fell through a rift of the ring's making, it would transport them to this time and wherever the ringbearer was."
"That's impossible. If that was true, someone other than Tolkien would have said something about it. There would have been at least a story in the tabloid somewhere: Man falls into Middle Earth. Woman claims to have been in Tolkien's Middle Earth."
"I doubt that the people who went back would have been very reliable sources."
"Why is that?" Marion asked skeptically.
"Everyone who leaves Middle Earth go back to their world either mad or poets." Blinking in surprise, Marion fell silent for a minute, trying to let that sink in. Not only was she unlucky enough to have slipped through one of these 'rifts' in the universe, if she went home she would be certifiably insane. If she wanted to keep her sanity, she could never go home. She was stuck in a world ripped apart by war for the rest of her life (a long one, if what Tolkien said about hobbit's life spans were true); what had she done to deserve that?
"All hope is not lost," Galadriel knelt down once again to reassure Marion. "It is always possible for you to go home a poet." That's right, it was a fifty-fifty chance. She could go home a poet instead of mad. In fact, she somewhat looked forward to that; she liked to write, but all of her poetry was horrible.
Shaking her head to rid the images of herself in a stereotypical black outfit complete with black beret and then of herself in a white room, arms tied in a straight jacket, Marion said, "Look, even if I wanted to go on this quest, I'd be of no use: I can't use a sword, I can't use a bow and arrow, I can't really fight at all. If you ask me, what Frodo really needs is someone who can kick ass, which I can't. Right now he has people who can bash a monster's head in with a single look. I'd just be a burden."
"You were meant for more of an emotional friend that he could confide his fears and doubts in. Someone who he could share his experience with. Frodo has enough courage to overcome many physical challenges, but it is those fears that would consume and destroy him."
"He's got Sam, Pippin, and Merry, who he'd trust a lot sooner than some newcomer, hobbit get-up or not."
"Perhaps, but you are also female."
"You are not suggesting what I think you are."
"Not wholly. As you said, you have no real ability to defend yourself. On such a dangerous quest, he would feel the need to protect you. That would not only keep him going, but also bring you closer. This instinct is already taking root. And you, can you tell me that you have no desire to help him?"
That wasn't true, Marion wanted to say. She did want to help. Her strange and disturbing dreams were suddenly a reality. She now knew it was Frodo who had been holding back those tears and all she wanted to do was to make his grief subside. But, she wouldn't be of any use to the Fellowship. Without any skills, she was likely to get killed, even.
"It's not that I don't want to help…but I can't," Marion reluctantly replied. With a swift motion, Galadriel grabbed Marion by the wrist, lifted her up and plunged her right hand into the water of her mirror. Marion cried out at the sudden sharp and almost unbearable pain.
"Stop!" She heard a voice call out behind her.
The pain was suddenly gone, but was replaced by a million different new sensations. A rage of emotions whirled in the back of her mind. After a moment, when the rush subsided and the slow ache in her hand began to dull away, Marion could identify the emotions not as her own, but as someone else's. Frodo's, she reasoned.
Hands were on her shoulders and when she looked up, her eyes met big blue ones.
"Frodo, you should not have followed us here," Galadriel scolded. But she was smiling.