And so I opened my eyes once more.

"She's awake!" announced a voice nearby.

I shut my eyes again quickly. Oh, hell, no.

I had been thinking bed, and home, and my mom waking me up, but was put off beyond belief to discover that my reality was more like lumpy ground, and outside in the night, and the Insane British Three. That sour, sorry reality hit me as soon as I heard the voice and felt the chill of the air.

"OK," I sat up slowly, my voice quavering. I kept my eyes half-shut, not wanting to look at them again. "Umm…no need to…panic. I'm fine."

I was only half thinking about what I was saying, and with my half-logic figured that since I'd had a minor breakdown not a few minutes ago, I should probably reassure them that I wasn't going to commence with the hysterics any time soon. The worst, I hoped, was over by now. And there was nothing I could do about anything.

There was a shifting sound of someone moving toward me. In a moment, there was that dark-haired, stupidly-named man, Frodo. Heehee. Frodo. I wondered briefly whether his parents really had been druggies. Or celebrities, because celebrities always give their kids dumb names. I settled with the former; this didn't seem an exceptionally star-studded place.

"Miss…Diamond," he said, very sincere "Tell me- do you remember anything at all? I don't mean from before you fainted I mean- anything?"

He leaned forward, his eyes level with mine- think, he was almost certainly silently commanding me.

I thought. The other two, I sensed, were watching us closely. Probably, they were waiting with morbid curiousity for me to fly off the handle again. I felt nervous and, marginally, embarrassed at the stares. I couldn't think- it was like being interrogated. How could I think like that?

"I don't-" I swallowed hard as he continued to watch me; then, as soon as I spoke, I remembered something. "Oh, my god." I looked around, suddenly, as though a black rider were clattering right behind me. "The rider. Listen. You're going to think I'm insane, but have there been any…any…"

"Any what?" prompted Frodo, frowning. I could hear sudden bated breath all around me- it was a little definitely odd.

"I remember-" I said, swallowing again, and catching two pairs of eyes glinting at me. "Before I woke up, I had all kinds of dreams. Black riders on black horses with silver armor- what?"

Frodo's eyes- blue eyes- widened like crazy as soon as I said that, and I could hear a quickening of breath from all three. It was as if I'd said a cursed name. They were all suddenly apprehensive.

"You," his voice was shuddery with disbelief, and his face was full of shock. "You have seen the riders?"

"Oh…yes," I told him, nodding. A funny feeling had begun creeping up my throat, a trembling feeling, not fear, more…strangeness. What was this? "I…have no idea what they are. Do you?"

"Yes," he said grimly, sitting back, and looking defeated. "I do."

"They're after you, those things, those…" I blurted out, feeling my eyes widen and my whole body shudder.

My eyes were full of tears. What was happening to me? I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home so bad. I hated this place already.

"How," whispered Frodo, leaning toward me and staring at me, into me, direct and clear, "did you know that?"

"Wait," I whispered. I crawled toward him; suddenly, it was imperative that I tell him the word that had come to me. I leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "Nazgul."

What an ugly word. I stopped, and drew back, horrified at what I'd said.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I don't know what happened."

It was so true. I silently begged that he'd believe me.

"Yes," he said. He really did look stunned. "Yes. I think that you are speaking honestly, but how…" he shook his head in disbelief, breathing hard. "I'm amazed."

I couldn't think of anything to say. I rubbed my eyes. My shoulders trembled and despite the blanket, I could feel the night air's chill plainly. I knew something now, something that I'd worked out on my own: something supernatural had happened to me. I was far too dazed to completely understand the scope of this, it was like staring at words on a page over and over and over in an attempt to fully realize their meaning. I could not yet get up close to it, but I was able to almost objectively realize that I was now on a world that was not earth.

That, or I was insane; but when you're insane, don't you only see things and hear things? You don't feel like I felt, or smell, or taste. I could feel the subtle body heat of the three people around me, and I could smell things- the wool of the blanket around me, and the three men, a little sweaty from walking a lot.

"I'm really sorry," I said, because I knew that I'd just done something absolutely terrfying and absolutely unnatural. These seemed like seriously old-fashioned people, and old-fashioned people don't like that sort of thing. And everyone seemed so grim and quiet.

"No," Frodo murmured, exhaling shakily. "Don't…don't apologize. Do you have any idea why you might know these things? Did you see the riders?"

He wasn't looking at me.

"Yes," I said, nodding. I gathered the blanket tighter around me; I was still freezing. "I saw them a few times. Just before you came. I was running from them, and then I…" I realized then what I must have been doing so high up in a tree "…I climbed a tree because it was the only way to escape them. But I saw them before, and I think they did something to me. I think they made me lose my memory."

There we go. If I had to do this, I was going to play the "amnesiac" card. Telling them about earth was not, I knew, going to hack it with these guys.

But oh, my god, I wanted to. I can't explain how much I wanted to just panic and start waving my arms and screaming that I thought I was losing it. That I last I remembered I'd been in a place where the people had normal-sized feet and where there are no spectral black freaky as hell riders chasing me around. But I decided right away that I couldn't let myself say that, and I was miserable.

I struggled not to cry again. Why was I this alone? I'm not even kidding; I wanted my mom. Or my dad, or my grandmother, or my Uncle Martin, or my friend Christina or even Trevor the Demon Child who I'd had to baby-sit last week. Anyone from home. I was desperate for comfort but no one here would comfort me.

Frodo seemed to have decided something. "All right," he said, conclusively. He started to get up. "Diamond, come with me."

I felt mildly alarmed, as I still didn't quite know the guy. Nonetheless, I followed him. I didn't have a choice- dead alone in this world, I had to do as I was told now.

We walked a ways away from the others, and paused in a shadowy clearing. I could hear the other voices talking (probably about me) as Frodo began to speak to me.

"I didn't wish to speak of this in front of Sam and Pippin," he said, in a low voice, "but you seem to have understood something that concerns me. I think, Diamond, that you must have this knowledge for a reason, but I couldn't say why, of course. I will say this, though- I am traveling out of the Shire."

I stared, feeling mildly hysterical at all the confusing words.

Silly Diamond! He's traveling out of the Shire! I totally know what the hell a Shire is! I'm also Spiderman!

I continued to watch Frodo closely, cold and quivery.

"Sam knows, but Pippin doesn't- he thinks I'm merely moving to a new home. But I mean to leave this country-"

The Shire is a country. OK. I took a deep breath; if I could figure that out, maybe I could do this on my own.

"-The riders are after me, and I am going to a place called Rivendell, where they may be able to help," Frodo eyed me closely, probably assuming that I knew what Rivendell was and just wasn't saying so. "I meant only to take Sam with me, but I think…now…that it might be wise if you were to come as well. The people of Rivendell may be able to determine what happened to you."

This was what I had wanted to hear. Just one word: help. You wouldn't believe how much I needed it. As it I was as helpless as a newborn abandoned in the middle of a forest on approximately the fifth of February; I was at these guys' mercy, and fortunately, they seemed pretty merciful.

Just a few problems, which I shall now detail to you:

I still didn't totally know where the Shire was. I didn't know where Rivendale was either. It could have been a mile or five freaking thousand, and I was just starting to get my head around the fact that this wasn't earth. As a result, I was now experiencing the sensation known as "being hopelessly lost".

The black riders were indeed after Frodo; and they were also more than likely after me as well. I had no clear idea as to who the riders were and specifically what sort of danger they posed. I just knew that they were dangerous. And scary.

I still had monstrous hairy feet. Me! I was practically not human.

I was fucking hungry.

And then there were about forty-seven other issues; but the first five were the most important. I regarded Frodo hopelessly, biting my lip, and hoped vaguely that he would be able to solve all of these for me. He seemed pretty capable.

"Well?" he said, patient but deeply serious. "What do you say?"

"I, ummm…" did I have a choice? No, I did not. "Yeah, sure." Frodo looked extremely confused, and I realized at that moment that he didn't have a clue what the words "yeah, sure" meant. "Yes," I corrected myself. "I'll go with you. Where is it?"

"Many miles from here," he said with a tired sigh. "Through the wild. I'm afraid it'll be difficult, but we have no choice. But first, we're going to Bree. Do you know where that is?"

No, I didn't. I floundered, wondering whether to lie and say yes and at least try to keep up the appearance of having some clue who, what, when and where I was.

He seemed to sense my confusion. "It's near the border of the Shire, not far. There we're going to meet a friend of mine. He's very capable of helping us."

A friend of his. All right. Sounded like a good deal, except for where it vaguely frightened me. I don't know why, but when he said "a friend of mine" I immediately thought of someone huge and scary. Like a bodyguard. But really, I was terrified of everything at the moment. There was something very subtly off about absolutely everything around me. It was like a wrong note being played; it only has to be a little off-key to sound creepy as hell.

Maybe it was the lighting of the place; maybe the shadows were just slightly in the wrong places, or maybe the air smelled different than it had at home. I felt weak and shaky and I knew absolutely that this was all just dripping with real supernatural.

This was what the supernatural felt like, apparently.

Frodo turned around and began to walk back out of the clearing. I followed. As I paused briefly to swat at a bug that bit at my leg, I noticed something that made my heart jump.

I was wearing a dress. Not just any dress; the mother of all rustic-looking old-fashioned lace trimmed frocks. Dark red wool and rough white lace flashed before my eyes as I glanced downward. I squeezed my face tight shut but did not scream. I would have to live this out. Maybe, anyway, I was going to go back home as soon as I went to sleep again.

Then, I knew with increasing hope, I'd be safe, and I'd have a story to tell and everything. Well, maybe no one would believe it, but it would be a story for me to relive to myself.

Pippin and Sam- I was pretty sure the other guy's name was Sam, the only truly normal name of the three (I think I liked him best; he seemed generally to be the least freaky)- were not exactly waiting for us, but were sitting down, having a conversation I couldn't hear and, most importantly, eating.

I was still fucking hungry.

"Hello," said Sam, looking up at us. "We were just having a bit of late-night second supper; would the lady like some as well?"

Ooh, this was new. I had never been referred to in third person as "the lady" before. I was a little wary of answering, but since they seemed to expect me to do so, gave a quiet "yes". Because these people don't know what "yeah" means. Good lord.

I sat down awkwardly, between Frodo and Pippin, feeling as though I was missing something essential. I took a tin plate and hoped that the others would forget I was there; people who know each other as well as these three did make me shy.

Except then Pippin turned and smiled at me pleasantly. Definitely at me. I smiled tightly and nervously back at him.

"You know," he said, conversationally, as he stocked his plate with a truly exceptional amount of food- I mean, really exceptional, considering he was pretty much average weight. I stared in amazement. (He wasn't going to be able to eat all that.) "I have heard that if you hit your head hard enough, it can make you forget everything, even your own name. Is that what happened to you?"

I realized that I had been staring at the food on his plate with wide eyes, and cut it out immediately. I really have to learn not to stare like I do.

"Um. No," I said, shaking my head. "I mean- well, I don't know. Honestly. I don't know anything. Just my name."

I congratulated myself sarcastically. The dumbness that sometimes issues forth from my own mouth is stunning.

"Here," he said, leaning over, taking some of the food that had been laid out and placing it on my plate. He grinned at me and his eye kind of glinted. I'm not saying it was creepy, it just was. I suddenly realized that he must think I was a little feeble-minded.

Oh, shit. I should probably clear that up.

"Thank you, sir," I said politely. "I am indeed very hungry. And as to my origins, I daresay hope to learn more- determine more- um, find out what they are. Frodo has promised to help me."

Oh! I daresay, old boy, let us retire to my flat and consume some crisps! Cheerio! I say, I am very much authentically British and old-fashioned!

Good lord. Maybe I shouldn't speak at all.

Pippin actually stopped smiling briefly and a look came over his face for which, I regret to say, the best description could only be "WTF?" He resumed eating. I started, mournfully.

It was then that I discovered; I was more than hungry. I was ravenous. I cannot describe to you exactly the scope of my hunger at the moment, but it honestly felt as though my insides were one big bottomless pit. I know it's rude to eat overmuch of someone else's food, but I did so, and barely regretted it.

Why in the name of all that is righteous I was so hungry, I did not know. But I do know that everyone else, including Mr. Sincerity, Frodo, ate just as much as I did. It was the final bizarre touch to a beyond bizarre evening.

A.N) This is the part where I thank Fabulous Disgrace, The Left Hand of God, Nari-Chan SND, Sawyerslover, Reasonably crazy, Elven pwner, HazzardGrl, and LOTRfreak1229 for reviewing, which is really really really really –deep breath- sort of awesome of you…

…and then go on and on about how great it would be if you, too (whoever you are) were too review too (won't take but a few moments of your time), and how constructive criticism works for me but how being overly nasty and flaming does not.

The end.