Heather POV

Middle Earth. You know I never really thought it existed. I loved reading about the world created by Oxford scholar, JRR Tolkien, but not once in a million years could I have thought that I would actually end up here. But I've been here now in Middle Earth for a little over a year, I think. I've seen the glory of Minas Tirith, the gloom of the border between Gondor and Mordor, the natural beauty of Imladris, and the enchantment of the Golden Wood of Lothlorien.

Middle-Earth is untainted by modern technologies and pollution; you know you would think I would miss it being from the twenty-first century on Earth, but I don't. I have some possessions that remind me of where I come from, and also a friend. But we'll get to that later. Now, however, I am going to tell my story.

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Heather, when I came here I was about to turn 21 years old. I'm short, standing in at a petite 5'3", I'm not waif thin, nor am I squat like a Dwarf. I am simply me. I was in my fourth and final year of college at the University of Alabama in Huntsville. I could speak French. I had a car. I had an apartment. I had a life.

Now I speak 4 languages...not bad for someone who's only been here a year and some change. French, English, Sindarin, and a little Quenyan. I have no car, but a majestic horse named Rosalita in honor of my little red Honda. I no longer live in my cramped apartment with my cat, Sméagol, but in a tree with another Elf. (note: I used to live with my friend, but she moved away...) Life just ain't bad here. *winks*

It all started on a blustery February morning. It was cold as almighty get out and windy to boot. I was walking out of the University Fitness Center after my 8:00 Yoga class (which I still do by the way) to my next class at Roberts Hall, the History of Modern France, fun fun.

I was lugging my green duffel bag, which contained my notebook and my text and also the supplemental text for the class, but who cares? I also had an extra set of clothes to change into after class so i could go to work. There was my makeup, extra shoes, deodorant, etc. I'm a stuff junkie. It was so cold, yet so sunny, I was not happy.

I hate cold weather, which is why I never visit my Elf friends in Imladris, the Misty Mountains are way too cold for my tastes. Anyway, I made it to Roberts Hall and got onto the God-forsaken broken elevator (it's an engineering school, they care nothing for us lowly Liberal Arts majors). Anyway, the elevator was ascending when all of the sudden we heard a creaking noise and a snap.

The elevator shuddered and I remember thinking to myself that this was it, Valhalla here I come! It was quiet for a minute and before anyone could breathe in relief, the elevator lurched again and there was another snap, then we were falling. It was only 3 floors, but seriously could have been 30 for all I cared. I was so scared, and as I braced myself for the impact that never came, I was thinking about lawyers and how I was going to sue the pants off of the University.

As my life flashed before my eyes, I felt myself thrown forward. Expecting to hit the steel walls of the elevator, you can imagine my surprise when I landed on a big tree root. I lay there for a minute, stunned. Am I dead? I wondered. I heard nothing, not even a bird. So St. Peter is going to judge me in a forest. Great, I thought. I pulled myself up and looked around, a huge forest surrounded me.

"Where am I?" I whispered out loud. I picked up my bag and slung the strap over my shoulder. There were no paths, just grass and a few fallen leaves. I took a few steps forward when all of the sudden an arrow was nocked right in front of my face. I jumped. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" I gasped. I looked up at my potential killer, expecting a Robin Hood Men in Tights refugee, instead I found myself face to face with one of the hottest men I had ever seen. He had cold gray eyes and really long platinum hair, it was almost silver. I looked around and found myself surrounded by hot blond gods with their arrows ready to kill me.

"Holy knickers," I breathed, "If I am about to die, then I shall die happy. Thank you God!" The first man I looked at said something terse and sharp in a language that was somewhat familiar to me.

I stared at him wide-eyed, but my eyes almost popped outta my head when I saw his ears...pointed. That could only mean one of two things, the first was that St. Peter was an Elf and Heaven was Middle Earth and I was going to be judged with dying a second time, or that I was in Middle-Earth, just like those giggly ha ha girls in the fanfics who go to Middle Earth and find Legolas after two days and fall madly in love. I prayed that it was the latter, and right about then I prayed that Legolas, or anyone, for that matter, would save me.

"Uh...mae govannen?" I said, smiling kinda timidly.

The leader, whose body language gave away his arrogant and cold nature, looked at me in surprise.

"Who are you and what is your business in Lorien?" he demanded coldly in English, his accent making him more alluring to me by the second. Hello Nurse!

I thought fast, "Get those arrows outta my face and maybe I will." I was not happy. I needed a cigarette bad. Maybe they would let me smoke...hmm...not bloody likely.

The Elf-man signaled to his little Elf-friends to lower their arrows. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now, what is your name and why are you here?"

I answered while rummaging through my bag for a smoke; hey I know I said I was trying to quit but good God, this was killing me. I thought fast, should I use one of my RPG names? At this point I knew I was screwed anyway, might as well have a little fun, n'est-ce pas? I found my cigarettes and a lighter and lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply before replying,

"My name is Isilwen, and I'm not quite sure as to why I am here, but I am. Nice to meet you, who are you by the way?"

They all stared at me as if I were insane, the leader wrinkled his nose at the smell of the smoke.

"You have an Elven name and yet you are human, you appeared as from nowhere. Are you a witch? Perhaps a spy from Mordor?" he looked at me menacingly.

I smiled, "Um, do I smell as if I come from Mordor, Master Elf?" I asked him sarcastically. I was so glad I was missing today's chapter on the French Revolution, this was totally so much more interesting.

"Hold your sharp tongue," he commanded.

"Would you like to feel how sharp it can get?" I asked testily, getting more upset by the minute. Could he not understand that I was like a bajillion dimensions from my home? Probably not, typical male. He probably did not care.

"I would not speak again if I were you." he said arrogantly.

I raised my eyebrow. "What's your name?" I asked, very nicely I thought.

He looked at me witheringly, "I am the Marchwarden of Lothlorien. I am Haldir." he said proudly.

Haldir? Wow! Hello, Sexy Elf-Jerk Man! He was better looking up close and personal than he was in the films! He commanded something in Elvish to his partners in crime. I took another pull from my almost dead cigarette. Suddenly two Elves grabbed my shoulders and pulled my hands back, Haldir the almighty leader of the wardens took my bag and slung it over his shoulder. I cried out in protest as the two Elves bound my hands,

"What are you going to do to me? Because I promise you that if you hurt me I'll sue the pants off you too! Sacre bleu!"

Haldir looked over at me in disdain, "Isilwen, we are taking you to our flet in the trees until we are relieved from our watch."

Aw man...three days with this hot sexy jerk. How lucky am I?

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"Three days."

"Three days?! You expect me to sit complacent while hogtied for three whole days?"

"You will comply or suffer the consequences."

"Oh my gawd, what are you going to do? shoot me with arrows? Groom me to death?"

I received no answer, only Haldir scooping me up in his arms (actually, he slung me over his shoulder, but that sounded so much more better) and heading towards the rope ladder that appeared from nowhere.

"Oh, but we just met!" I squealed annoyingly.

"Silence!"

"You know this could get kinky!" I laughed out loud to hide my unease.

No reply but I could tell I made him feel reeeeeally uncomfortable. Good. I did not like the fact that these Elves were all male and that I was clad in yoga pants and shoes, a sports bra top and a cotton warm up jacket. Suddenly I wished I had some overalls, a turtleneck sweater and a down parka.

Ten minutes later my butt was sore from sitting on the hard wood and my arms were becoming stiff.

"Can you untie me, pleeeeaaaasssee?" I begged one of Haldir's comrades.

He looked at me in amusement and said something in Elvish that I did not understand.

"Yo, Haldir!" I shouted.

He glared at me icily, "Be silent."

"Can you please, please, please untie me? Pretty, pretty please with sugar and cherries and sweet 'n low on top?"

"No"

"Then suffer the consequences."

He scoffed, "What consequences?"

"I will shout and yell and annoy you until you untie me. You think I have it in me to kill a hottie like you? Uh...no." I said the last part under my breath.

He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was considering it. "Fine, but you will be silent and not speak unless spoken to."

"Okay, okay, no need to get all nineteenth century on me, Jesus, Mary and Joseph."

He untied me rather reluctantly I thought. I sat and rummaged through my bag until I found my copy of "The Sweet Potato Queens" I wasn't about to retrieve "The Silmarillion" nor the "Two Towers" for the obvious reasons. After about an hour I was bored with reading and decided to do some Yoga stretches.

"Breathe in, breathe out. Now pull yourself into Downward Facing Dog." I murmured as I stretched.

Haldir was there in the blink of an eye. He was hot, but he was beginning to irritate me. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Yoga," I said irritably.

"Well stop it. And be silent, I could hear you from where I was standing."

"Whatever...stupid Elf" I muttered under my breath. He turned around quickly and gave me an icy death glare.

He left me and I resumed my sitting position, Indian Style, on the stupid floor of the walless ceilingless prison from hell.

I thought Middle Earth was supposed to be fun, with all the adventures with Frodo and Aragorn and becoming an Elf and stuff. Apparently those giggly ha ha fangirls knew nothing of the real thing. This stunk.

I decided to sing for lack of something better to do, besides it made me closer to home. (Tourniquet by Evanescence)

"I tried to kill my pain

But only brought more

I lay dying

And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal.

I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?

My God, my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My God, my tourniquet

Return to me salvation.

Do you remember me?

Lost for so long?

Will you be on the other side

Or will you forget me?

I'm dying, praying----Ooof!"

Somebody landed hard on top of me. "What the--?? Elizabeth?"

The person was Elizabeth, one of my RPG buddies. This was definitely going to be fun.