A/N: *in bilbo's voice* we're going on an adventure!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Chapter 2: just help me run away

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Adrienne stares up at the ceiling as she lies in the darkened room. A lithe figure lays next to her in bed, sheets rising and falling with soft breaths. The breathing is briefly interrupted when the person mumbles something indecipherable in their sleep, causing Adrienne to smile.

As it turns out, beating a buff dude in a tequila chugging contest is a good way to get girls, because that blonde chick Adrienne noticed watching them was more than eager to make out with her afterward. Who would have thought, huh? And of course, making out led to other things, hence how they ended up in this bed they managed to find upstairs after some stumbled searching.

Shifting on her side to face the girl, Adrienne feels the hot smart of shame and guilt pooling in her stomach. Despite them both having thoroughly enjoyed themselves, she can't help but feel like she used the girl. No, not "the girl." Haley . She has a name-and Adrienne should know, considering she'd moaned it several times. Haley shouldn't be reduced to being identified as a nameless person used for sex in a hookup. It's the one rule (besides the ones that are a given, i.e. consensual, safe, etc.) she'd made for herself concerning sleeping with people: always get their name. She never wants to treat people with less respect than they deserve as a human being.

Of course, Adrienne is aware that that kind of is what hookups are–two people briefly using each other for a night of fun and pleasure without having to worry about commitment or attachment…or feelings.

Still, she can't successfully bid the guilt away and so it remains deep in her gut, ebbing away silently.

One would think that by now this sort of thing wouldn't bother her, after all, flings and hookups are far more familiar to her than relationships. Every time someone asks for something more she dips. She's not interested in relationships, not right now, not anymore.

At least, that's what she tells herself. Not interested. Too busy. Has enough of her own problems. Just wants to have some meaningless fun. Would rather spend her time on more important things like school or work. Those are all her go-to reasons to give to whoever–herself included–might inquire on the topic.

But sometimes…sometimes it's tempting to ask herself if that's the real reason. If maybe it goes a little deeper than that. If she's actually just too afraid to share that sort of trust and closeness with another person. If maybe she considers that level of intimacy to be strictly reserved for other people.

It's just another thing she always shoves aside so she doesn't have to really dwell on it, but she knows it's there, especially in quiet moments like right now when there's not much else to divert her thoughts to.

You can run from yourself, child, but you can only run for so long.

A chill runs down Adrienne's spine. That hadn't been a voluntary thought in her own voice. But it isn't unfamiliar to her anymore, unfortunately. It was the voice that has been plaguing her for a while now.

Fuck. Just like that, after a night of fun and everything, too, she's back in a state of anxiety over her mental health. She just can't catch a fucking break.

The truth will always catch up to you, in due time. And for you, that time draws near.

She shivers. That sounds so ominous.

Uneasy, Adrienne gets up to leave, slipping out from under the covers. By the faint light emanating from the window, she quietly pulls on her clothes and picks up the miniature backpack she'd brought. She makes sure to leave Haley a note that says Thanks for the good time :) before making her way down the stairs of the frat house, creeping past the college students who passed out after their night of drinking. As she passes by the bathroom, the sound of someone retching drifts through the closed door, reminding Adrienne she's lucky she doesn't get hung over easily.

Knowing she'll be unable to find sleep even in her own bed, she decides to stroll around campus for a while. As always, the crisp night air and the twinkling moon and stars above provide some comfort to her heavy heart, but not enough. Never enough, it seems.

She's heard the Voice in her head twice today (well, technically one was yesterday now), which is closer than they've ever been. And that's honestly terrifying, because what if it eventually drowns out her own thoughts? What if one day it's the only thing she hears?

As a psych major, she's been reminded again and again not to use the word crazy. It's offensive and insensitive. But when it comes to herself, that's the word that continually comes to mind, because that's what it feels like. Like she's losing her mind.

"Mom, why do you have to take all this medicine?" Thirteen-year-old Adrienne asked her mother, eyeing the orange prescription bottles lying on the counter. There are new ones. Again.

It had been a valid question, especially considering the fact that the medication never did much for her. At least, it didn't do enough.

The older woman hummed lightly as she went about cooking dinner. "We've been over this, honey. I have an illness. The same one your great grandma had."

"But why did this have to happen to us?" she whined. "Why did it have to be our family?"

Why did it have to be you?

Her mother let out a sigh, maybe because she'd asked herself the same thing, but when she spoke her voice was as patient as ever. "All families have burdens, just in different ways. Some people have a lot of cancer in their family, others have alcoholism. Ours happens to be schizophrenia, that's all. It is what it is."

"It's not fair."

"Maybe not, but it's how things are. And remember, everything happens for a reason. You have to believe that."

Adrienne wipes away the tears now wetting her cheeks. If there is a reason any of this is happening, she can't possibly believe it's a good one. God or whoever's out there must really hate her. He has to, 'cause her life fucking sucks.

And none of her friends have noticed. Her life is spiraling and everyone is just buying the fake smile and hollow laugh she presents. That might be the point of putting on a facade, but it would be nice if just once someone would see past the exterior. If someone would see that she's struggling.

She's just a fucked up person studying psychology in the hopes of helping people battling with their minds, but how can she do that when she's buckling under the weight of her own mind? She's tired of it. Tired of fighting.

Her fingers twitch, aching to reach for her AirPods and blast music in her ears. That might distract her. But for once she resists the allure of drowning out her thoughts, deciding to instead continue to walk in silence.

.。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・° .。.:*・°

Eventually, she finds herself back at the fountain in the quad where she'd been with Claire earlier that day. She stares into the water, frowning at her reflection. She feels like she's losing herself, well and truly. And if she doesn't have herself, then what does she have?

Her gaze travels from the reflection of her own face to what surrounds it: the sky. She admires the pretty way the moon and stars reflect off the water like lights shining in a pool of midnight blue. They glitter at her invitingly, beckoning her into the deep.

Coins clutter the bottom of the fountain, representing a multitude of students' wishes. Her eyes graze over them and she finds herself wondering what they all might be, how many are similar, and how many are strikingly different from the rest. More than that, she wonders about the unique lives of all those people, what led them here to this time and place, and what prompted them to make those particular wishes.

She wonders if any of them feel the same way she does, and if so, what it is they wished for. Then maybe she could wish for the same thing.

Who says you can't try anyway? She thinks. There's nothing to lose at this point.

Suddenly filled with the urge to contribute to this meager offering of wishes, willing to try anything at this point no matter how futile it may be, she reaches into her pocket for some loose change and fishes out a penny. It's not even pretty at that; it's one of those ones that has that gross green stuff on it. But beggars can't be choosers. A coin is a coin and a wish is a wish.

As she steps up on the ledge, not bothering to take off her backpack this time, she thinks back to the wish her friend had suggested.

A shiny new boyfriend? Yeah, right. What Adrienne needs is a whole new life.

Yeah. Yeah, that's it. That'll be her wish–for a new life. That way all the bases are covered: her lack of purpose, her schizophrenia worry, her lack of depth in her friendships–all of it.

This life clearly isn't working out for her. It seems like it was never meant to, like it was doomed from the start. What she needs is to start fresh. That sounds nice. So very, very nice.

"I wish for a new life," she whispers with all her heart as she tosses the coin. It flies through the air, spinning over and over calculatedly before plopping into the water, joining the rest of the coins. Small ripples are sent into motion like soundwaves as her wish spreads out for the universe to hear.

"Well, here goes," she mutters before jumping into the center of the ripples, bracing herself for the cold water about to cover half her legs. Except it doesn't stop at her knees. It doesn't stop at all. In fact, she doesn't even feel her feet hit the bottom of the fountain. One minute she's jumping into two feet of water and the next she's completely submerged as if she just plunged into the twelve-foot pool at the YMCA.

What the fuck?

Had the bottom of the fountain given out and she fell right through? No, that doesn't make any sense. Even if the bottom had broken, she wouldn't fall through into a bottomless pit of water like this. She doesn't have time to wonder about what the hell just happened though; she just needs to get to the surface.

The initial shock of the unexpected turn of events makes the task of getting to the surface a bigger challenge than it should be. She flails her limbs around trying to head towards what she hopes is the direction the fresh air for her lungs is.

With a startling realization, it occurs to her that this is all eerily familiar. This is just like her reoccurring dream, except this time is far more real than all the rest. She knows it's actually happening. By some unknown turn of events, the nightmare has come true.

But just as in the dream, she refuses to give up. Adrienne persists in her swimming, fighting to survive through the panic while her lungs feel like they're about to burst.

Finally, finally, her hands break through the surface and she desperately latches onto the ledge, using it to pull the upper part of her body out as well. She sputters and coughs, barely registering the strong but gentle hands that pull her entire body completely up and out of the water and set her down on the ground.

Supporting herself on her hands and knees, Adrienne continues to cough the remaining water out of her lungs and tries to shake off the shock. Shivers wrack her body while her mind is numb and reeling at the same time.

After a few tantalizing moments, she manages to recover enough to collect herself and open her eyes. As her breathing returns to its regular rhythm, she blinks through the haziness. As she does so, she realizes the sight that meets her eyes is a strangely unfamiliar one. The ground before her is dirt and not the man-made cement she drew on with chalk for psych club last semester.

Slowly, she raises her eyes until they meet a group of five men standing before her, looking almost as startled as she does. The first thing she notices–besides their shocked expressions–is their odd appearance. Two of them are the height of children yet have the faces of adults. Another is also considerably short, with a large beard and a gruff-looking face. The next is a tall scruffy man. And lastly, beside him, stands a smooth-faced man with long blond hair. They are all dressed in odd, outdated attire like something straight out of a renaissance fair.

The next thing she notices is their surroundings. They're not standing in the open quad bordered with academic buildings, but instead are standing in front of large roots in what appears to be a hazy, dark forest. Yeah, definitely not the quad.

Last she checked, both the people and the surroundings weren't here a second ago.

"Um." Utterly perplexed and trying to figure out what the hell just happened, she turns back to the fountain only to freeze in shock.

The fountain. It isn't there. Instead, in its place is an ancient-looking, circular stone table of sorts. It had intricate designs carved into it and leaves growing around it.

Shocked, she gets up and rushes over to inspect it. Resting on the stone pillar is a metal basin filled with water–definitely not the large fountain she had jumped into. There was no way she just came out of that. Circumference-wise, sure, it was (just barely ) wide enough for a person to stand in the middle of. But that's it. It can't be more than three inches deep.

What the–

Maybe I had more to drink than I thought.

"H-how did–? Where did the fountain go?" she asks, starting to spin around to face the strange-looking men when she notices the presence of someone else.

Off to the side a little ways, standing near a small waterfall, is the most angelic being she's ever seen. The woman's beauty is somewhat similar to the blond man's in that she looks too perfect to be human, like her natural face has a Snapchat filter over it, but even more so. Her eyes are captivating, seeming to hold an abundance of both power and knowledge. And her hair– God , her hair; it cascades down to nearly her waist in sunkissed blonde waves.

The sight is enough to take Adrienne's breath away even in her distressed state.

Then the woman smiles at her, pure peace and calm energy radiating off her. When she speaks, however, Adrienne's blood runs cold. "Welcome, Adrienne of Earth, daughter of Julia and Francis. I have long anticipated your arrival."

That voice. It's the voice; the voice Adrienne has been hearing in her head for weeks now. The voice that has become a waking nightmare for her, clouding her mind with anxiety and dread of what seemed to be the inevitable onset of the mental illness she'd been fearing for so long.

And now here it is, not coming from inside her head but from the mouth of this unearthly being in this unearthly place, speaking not only her own name but those of her parents.

But it can't be. It has to be a coincidentally similar-sounding voice. Simply has to be.

Maybe things were escalating far quicker than she'd anticipated and this was all just her succumbing to psychosis.

Maybe– no. She refuses to doubt all her senses to such an extent, at least yet. She can feel and smell and see her surroundings so vividly. This is something else, it has to be…right?

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Adrienne plants her feet. "Who the hell are you and where am I? How did I get here? And how the hell do you know my name?" Before the woman can reply, Adrienne thinks of a single question that better covers all the bases: "What the FUCK is going on?"

The five men all exchange uneasy glances at one another, appearing a bit flustered at her strong language and unsure of how to respond. It also doesn't escape her notice that a few of them glance down at the strip of bare midriff between the waistband of her pants and the bottom of her crop top before looking away in scandal.

Meanwhile, the woman just stands there calmly.

"WELL?" Adrienne huffs. "Someone say something already!"

Finally, The woman slowly approaches her, and Adrienne wants to back up in unease, but finds herself unable to move, transfixed under the woman's gaze. It's hard to be wary when you're so in awe of one's ethereal presence.

"My child, do not be afraid, for you are where you are supposed to be and you are in good company."

Her face scrunches in confusion. "What the fuck does that mean?" She shakes her head. "Listen, all I know is one second I'm jumping in the fountain at school, and the next I'm, well, wherever here is. I feel like I'm going crazy."

There's that word again. Crazy.

"You are in Lothlórien of Middle Earth, and you are of sane mind. Of that, I can assure you."

"Lothlórien? Middle Earth? I've never heard of either of those. And wherever it is, that doesn't explain how I got here."

The angelic being gives her a warm, patient smile. "Dear child, this may be difficult to grasp, but you are no longer in the world as you know it at all."

She frowns. "What?"

"The water in the fountain you speak of served as a gateway from your time, which is many years in the future, to ours. When you jumped into it you were transferred here through the water in my mirror."

Is this some kind of a weird, elaborate joke?

Adrienne stares at her serious expression and looks over at the men to see if they might give the joke away, but their faces mirror the other woman's. She lets out a humorless laugh. "You're–you're fucking with me, right? You expect me to believe I, what? Portaled to another time period?" she asks incredulously, but even as she does so, somewhere deep–so deep she refuses to acknowledge it–within her, somehow, she knows it to be true. It just feels true, because there's simply no other explanation. No explanation for how she jumped into her school's fountain only to be pulled out of a fucking basin of water , how utterly unearthly these beings look or how oddly they're dressed, how the air itself feels different here, how she's never seen such a place, how she's never felt so surrounded by pure magic.

Somehow, someway, she believes it. Even if she's not ready to admit that to them–or herself. And why should she? It's ridiculous.

It's impossible.

It's terrifying .

The scruffy, brunet man speaks up, his voice smooth and calm. "The Lady of Light speaks only the truth. Do not doubt her word."

"But you do understand how absurd this all sounds, right?" She turns back to the lady dressed in white, straining her head to look up at the tall woman.

"I do understand this is difficult for you to fathom, but I speak the truth. You have been brought here from the future."

"With all due respect…why?" She hadn't intended on asking that question, it seemed to have bubbled out of her.

Why me?

"You wished for a new life, did you not?"

"I–how did you know that?" she questions, jolting. How could this woman have heard her wish at the fountain?

"Your coming was made known to me in the previous days, and in preparation for it, I was allowed a connection to you in your time. I am sure you are aware of what I speak of, even if you did not understand it at the time."

I have the ability to see into your mind and interject my own thoughts into it, Adrienne hears the woman's voice in her head just as she has for the past several weeks.

Her jaw drops in both realization and disbelief. "So that was you! You've been speaking in my head and I thought I was experiencing psychosis for heavens' sake. Could you have, I don't know, introduced yourself to me in a non-terrifying way?"

"I did not intend for you to feel so. As I stated, in the previous two days I was prompted to reach out to you as a way of preparing for your arrival, to encourage you."

Her brow furrows in confusion. "The past two days? Oh no, this has been going on for weeks now, are you kidding?"

"Time is a flexible concept and does not flow linear, do not expect the timeline of your world and this one to line up or even to be consistent. Events may have been scrambled."

A soft gasp comes from the blond man and Adrienne tosses him a confused glance before turning back to the woman. "So…I left my time period and am in this one now. The past. And you called this place Middle Earth?"

"Correct."

"And you're who, exactly?"

"I am Lady Galadriel, I oversee this elven land–Lothlórien–with my husband, Lord Celeborn."

"Wait, I'm sorry– elven?" she exclaims before finally noticing the tips of pointed ears barely visible beneath her golden hair. "You're an elf. Elves…exist here," she states dumbly.

"Yes. I suspect you will meet many other beings here you are unfamiliar with."

Adrienne nods slowly, trying to wrap her head around the fact that mythical beings like elves really, truly exist here.

Galadriel smiles softly. "I think it is about time you meet our companions here," she says, gently guiding Adrienne over to the five men who have been mostly silent up until this time. She starts with the two on the end, one with dark hair and another with reddish-blond hair. "This is Frodo Baggins of the Shire and his friend Samwise Gamgee. Both are known as hobbits."

The child-sized men offer her small smiles of welcome while also looking unsure of how to act. They seem to be both in awe and somewhat freaked out.

Adrienne tries to offer a smile of her own out of polite habit, but her mind is swirling. Hobbits. We definitely don't have those where I'm from.

Next in line is another short one, but not looking like the hobbits. He appears gruff with a full red beard. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin. He is a dwarf."

Dwarf? Okay. At least it's something I'm familiar with–in stories at least.

"Then we have Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He is of the Dúnedain, a race of men."

He bows slightly in greeting.

Finally, they come to the blond man who Adrienne already guesses is another elf because of his pointed ears and dewy complexion.

Now that is one pretty guy.

"This is Legolas Thranduilian, woodland elf."

The male elf also bows in greeting, his eyes holding something akin to curiosity–slightly more so than the others, that is.

"Um, nice to meet you all, I guess," she returns in kind, mostly out of habit. I must be in shock, just casually introducing myself to magical creatures, she thinks. "I'm Adrienne. Adrienne Woods."

Legolas' eyes seem to light up for some reason as she finishes her sentence.

"Adrienne," the dwarf repeats. "That's a bit of an odd name."

Wow, okay, so he has no filter apparently. "And Gimli isn't?" she throws right back at him before she can stop herself.

Legolas and the hobbits seem to find her attitude amusing as she can see the smirks they try to hide as the dwarf sputters indignantly.

Galadriel steps in before any more words can be exchanged. "Now that you all have met our new arrival, I think it's best you find sleep while I speak to Adrienne privately. Fear not, you can get to know her properly tomorrow."

Gimli bids goodnight to Lady Galadriel and grumbles one to Adrienne in passing. Aragorn bows lightly to them both before following after him.

The two hobbits approach her directly. "It was nice to meet you, Miss Adrienne," Sam offers her warmly, while Frodo smiles politely but timidly.

"Yeah, you too," she returns.

Legolas says something to Galadriel in another language. An elvish bidding of goodnight, she presumes. Like Aragorn, he only bows silently to her before leaving.

Adrienne now stands alone with Galadriel. She's not sure whether she's relieved or terrified.

"Well…they didn't have much to say, did they?" she asks because she can't think of anything else to say.

Okay, definitely terrified.

Galadriel raises an eyebrow in amusement.

Adrienne rushes to defend her words. "But I mean they seem very nice. They're probably just weirded out by all this. Like I am. Honestly, why am I not freaking out more right now?"

S hut up, shut up, shut up! You're rambling. To a fucking goddess no less. She could probably kill you with her elf-y powers or some shit.

"I am glad you think them nice, for they are to be your companions."

She blinks. "What do you mean?"

"It's time for me to tell you why you were called to this time in particular and not another."

She swallows hard. "Uh, okay. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I traveled to another time at all, let alone why."

"Regardless, you must pay attention, for this is of great importance."

"Right, of course. Please go on."

"Middle Earth is in great danger from an ancient evil whose threat only grows with each passing day."

The woman goes on to give the rundown of the situation, which of course requires a whole history lesson. Long story short, Sauron is not a great guy and if they don't want the world to go to all hell they need to keep this evil piece of jewelry away from him while simultaneously trying not to be corrupted by it themselves (whatever that means). Fun. Oh, and the "fellowship," as they call their group, just lost their leader, a wise old wizard named Mithrandir. And now she's just expected to join their group like it's no biggie? Yeah, okay.

"So I'm just supposed to go along with those guys as if I have something to contribute?"

"Everyone has something to contribute, Adrienne. Even if it seems small. We all have a part to play."

"Yeah. That's like saying 'everyone's special.'"

"Everyone is special."

She sighs. Of course she would say that. "I just–I feel like I need something a little more specific to go off of. I got dragged here for some reason apparently, at the very least I deserve to know why. What role am I supposed to be filling here, exactly?"

"Yourself."

"I'm serious, help me out here."

"All will be revealed in due time."

"Fine. At least answer me this though, after we defeat this evil dude, will I be able to go back to the present then? Or the future? Whenever my time is."

"Would you wish to?"

The question surprises her with a jolt of existentialism. Would she want to go back home? If she can even call it that–home. It really wasn't much of a home, at least it hadn't been for a while anyway. She wasn't happy with her life there; she felt lonely and out of place, even if it didn't look like it to those around her.

Nevertheless, she doesn't know whether or not she wants to be in this one. After all, she's been here for all of two hours and she's already been told she's supposed to help save the world from what would be considered a supervillain in her world? Yikes.

"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice now does it?" she bites, tired of people acting like she does have one. Shit happens, and she never gets a say in it. She never has.

Galadriel stares, studying her. Something akin to pity and disappointment shadow across her face. You have been granted a great gift, Adrienne, she says in Adrienne's head. It is in your best interest to accept it for what it is, whether or not you want it right now . When she speaks aloud again her voice somehow has that same unnaturally calm tone it always does. "Do not be angry with me. You yourself asked for a new life, for purpose. The universe merely answered that call."

"I didn't ask for this specifically though! God. I didn't ask for any of this. People make vague, unattainable, silly wishes all the time. They don't expect them to come true, especially something like this. So stop acting like I did. And for that matter, I never said I would risk my life to help you guys defeat this Sauron guy, alright? You didn't ask and I haven't decided if I want to yet."

Galadriel eyes her levelly. "It would be most unwise to refuse."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Because your fate is tied to that of the Ring's, just like everyone else's. If the fellowship should fail it would mean the end of everything good left in this world. It would be devoured by darkness and death."

She shrugs and shakes her head. "Oh okay, I'll die? That wouldn't be much different than my fate on earth 'cause I probably would've ended up killing myself anyway, just like–" she stops herself from finishing that sentence and clenches her jaw.

"Do not speak so little of your life," the woman says harshly, a dark shadow falling across her soft features, but after a moment her affronted expression is replaced with a sympathetic one. "You are a tortured soul, Adrienne. And in your brokenness, fear and pain have left you guarded, isolated, and without hope for yourself. But most of all, it has made you selfish."

" Selfish? Because I don't want to risk my life for this world that isn't my own?"

"Yes, in many ways. For it is selfish to keep your pain to yourself and refuse to let others in, it is selfish to assume others do not understand or even share your pain, and it is selfish to disregard the lives of an entire world–which, Adrienne Woods, is indeed your own–simply because you believe you don't care whether you yourself dies. Your grief of the past clouds the truth of the present."

Adrienne winces but quickly masks the effect Galadriel's words have on her with a glare. "You don't know me," she snarls in a low voice.

"Perhaps you do not know yourself," Galadriel responds so matter-of-factly and with such conviction that Adrienne is stunned into silence. "Now I will show you to your flet so you may find rest tonight."

Adrienne can do nothing more than follow after her to a platform high in the treetops, not daring to say another word.