"The world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming."- Helen Keller

Chapter 20

"I-I don't understand," I wheezed out through my dry throat.

"I know, you're probably feeling a bit disoriented. That's perfectly normal, given the circumstances."

"But..This can't be right."

"I gather you have some missing pieces. No doubt you don't remember the attack."

"No. I'm...I'm not supposed to be here."

He smiled compassionately, but there was no way he could empathize with what was going on in my head. I was on a horse with Galdalf and Pippin, a long journey to Gondor still ahead of us…

Gandalf?

Pippin?

Gondor?

These names were more than just memories to me. Floods of words filled my brain. Words of books I had read in my childhood, movies I had watched hour upon hour.

"...difficult to perceive-," the doctor had been saying, but I cut him off.

"It was all a dream," I whispered.

"Sorry?" he asked.

But I didn't answer. I was too busy with my thoughts. Eomer...a fictional character...but it had seemed so real…

"Mal?" a new voice asked, bringing me back to the real world.

I looked up and saw a face I hadn't seen in a long time. "Aunt Maggie?"

"Oh, God, Mal, you are okay."

"I told you we would take good care of her, Mrs. Jackson." The doctor said.

"What were you thinking?" Maggie nearly shouted, towering over my body laying in the hospital bed.

"Aunt Maggie, what are you doing here?"

"I'm still your emergency contact, squirt."

I shook my head. "Don't call me that." It reminded me of Fion.

No, Fion wasn't real. It was a dream. I didn't need to be upset.

"Still a Moody Mallory after all these years, huh? Well, at least you're all better now." She turned to the doctor. "When can I take her home?"

"Take her home?" The doctor asked, pulling a pen out of his breast pocket. I watched as he poked my foot, and, while I saw it happen, I couldn't feel a thing. "Ms. Gilmore, can you feel this?"

"No," I whispered.

"What do you mean you can't feel it?" Maggie asked, grabbing my arm, but I couldn't feel that either.

The doctor continued to poke and prod, but I didn't feel a thing. "We took some scans and x-rays this morning, and we were worried about a misplacement of some nerves in the neck and spinal area. We'll have to go in for another surgery, repair some of the damage."

"She's paralized?" Maggie almost yelled. "She's a teacher. Do you have any idea-,"

"Get out," I said, a little louder now that my voice was coming back.

"Mallory," she said, but I didn't let her finish.

"You were my legal guardian for nine months. We haven't spoken in two years. Now you want to start making decisions for me? Get out, Maggie." She stuttered for a short moment before turning and exiting my small room. I looked back at the doctor. "My real emergency contact's name is Catherine Fitzpatrick. Can you call her, please?"

"Is she a next of kin?"

"She's a friend. Another teacher in my district."

"Of course. And I'll schedule the surgery for tomorrow morning. Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?"

The only thing that would make me comfortable was reassurance that I wasn't going crazy. "Is it common to...dream when in a coma?" I asked.

"Normally, no. Most comas are a result of brain damage. And since dreams come from the brain, they become unlikely. You, however, were placed into your coma. There was damage to nearly every part of your body, save the brain. You were lucky on that front. In this instance, dreams are very possible, but I'm afraid most people in your situation don't report any dreams. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I said. I didn't want him to think I was crazy.

"What are you saying, Mallory?"

"Cat, I'm not crazy."

"But you were comatose. Aren't dreams something that happen when you're in a coma?"

"Not according to my doctor."

Catherine shook her head. "Mal, you just got attacked by a bear. Isn't that one crazy thing enough? Now you're telling me that you were transported into Middle-earth? JRR Tolkien's novels? The best selling fantasy series of all time?"

"I'm not crazy," I repeated.

"I never said you were. I just want you to think this through. How could it be possible?"

"It's not, but Cat...they were real; the people, the places… and him. He was real. And it wasn't like the movies. It wasn't like the novels either. They were...you know how they read as a kind of recording of history?"

"The Lord of the Rings? Yeah, it's why I could never get through them as a kid."

"Right, they're dull most of the time. And the dialogue isn't realistic. This wasn't like that."

"So it was something your brain dumbed down in your sleep. Easy explanation."

"No, Catherine, I learned a whole new language."

She laughed. "Ok, prove it."

I opened my mouth, ready to spout out Rohirric to prove my point...but I couldn't. No sound came out because I couldn't think of the sounds to make. No words in that guttural language it had taken me months and months to learn could escape my mouth.

Catherine smiled sympathetically and grabbed my hand. I could see it happen, but I couldn't feel her touch. "You okay?"

"I have surgery in three hours."

"You should get some sleep."

"I haven't been able to sleep since I woke up. The nurses keep telling me to."

"I'm gonna run to your apartment and grab some things for you when you get discharged. Anything in particular you want?"

I shook my head.

She stood and continued that pitying smile. "I'll see you when you wake up."

"Alright Miss Gilmore, are you ready?" Dr. Cohen said as he walked alongside my wheeled bed.

"Ready to feel my body again?"

He chuckled. "As I've explained, it shouldn't be a difficult procedure. We'll just need to put some pieces back where they belong."

"Alright, sweetie," the anesthesiologist said. "I'm gonna ask you to count backwards from twenty."

I closed my eyes. "Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen. Seventeen. Sixteen. Fifthteen. Fourtee…

"Gandalf ordered that no word be sent back to Lord Eomer and the Eorlingas," a quiet, but familiar voice whispered.

"It's a miracle she survived the journey here," another voice, this one unfamiliar, said. "The talons of an unfell beast pierced her shoulders. Even armored knights wouldn't be able to take that kind of injury. And the fall when it dropped her…"

"Gandalf was to thank for that. She barely thudded when she hit the ground."

I opened my eyes. Pippin was sitting beside me, looking up at a round-faced girl with light brown hair. Her thin lips smiled when our eyes met. "Good morrow, fair Mallory Gilmore," she said with a small curtsy.

Pippin's head jolted in my direction. "Oh, Miss Mallory. 'Tis a blessing to see your eyes open again."

"I was...attacked?" I asked.

"You don't remember?" Pippin asked.

"A bear attacked me," I said, earning confused looks from both Pippin and the stranger.

"Nay, Miss. A bear would have been a blessing compared to what actually got you."

I made an attempt to sit up, but that was a mistake. Jolts of pain hissed through my entire upper body. I realized that I was completely covered in soft cotton bandages from the waist up. My right ankle was wrapped tight as well. I had been changed out of my travel worn blue dress and smock into a thin white shift.

"It is not uncommon for some injuries to suppress the trauma of what actually happened," the girl said.

"I know it wasn't a bear," I muttered. "I'm-I'm not sure why I said that."

"Fret not, my lady."

"Who are you?" I asked her.

"Hallewyn, Lady of Ethring. Lord Eomer is my mother's sister-son."

"And forgive me, MIss," Pippin said, standing up. He was wearing new clothes. Velvet battle livery adorned with an intricate embroidery picturing a white tree. "There's someone who will want to know you're awake."

"Gandalf?"

"Gandalf is busy, I'm afraid. No, it would be Lord Faramir, Boromir's brother. He wishes to meet you."