Dargan was in fact not a Communist. "I'm American!" He yelled back at me, disgusted I would ever insult him the way he was insulting these Elves that could easily kill us. At home calling someone a communist was a big deal, it was 2034, the United States was crumbling, every foundational belief it held turned into ashes, and in its place stood it's coming downfall.

"There's no America here!" I yelled back. We were children when the shift happened, a great divide in the nation, an us vs. them. It wasn't about race or land rights like the Civil War; this was much harder to label, it seemed we grew up when race and land rights were small problems. When the greatest generation began to pass away they took with them America the beautiful. Dargan has repeatedly obsessed over different empires, the average one lasting 250 years. America was overdue for her downfall.

We went back and forth, childishly arguing, about things that didn't matter anymore. Communism doesn't exist here, but it was comforting for both of us. It was familiar. I yelled at him for his lack of socks and he yelled at me for being a bad nurse, we fought like siblings until a knock at the door sounded and we both froze.

I was the first to unfreeze myself and was greeted by a beautiful woman elf carrying a basket of food and in her other hand what appeared as clothing that was folded up.

"My name is Mabeth, the Lady has tasked me with your care," she gave a small bow. "I have brought you more comfortable clothing for your stay here and a meal should you hunger." She turned around and pointed to one of the large trees, "We normally eat in the dining hall but if you wish for your seclusion I can continue bringing your meals here for you."

"Yes, we will wish it," Dargan interrupted.

"The bathing spring is not far from here, I can take you tomorrow to it, if you wish." Her eyes flicked from mine to Dargan as if expecting another interruption, "Elleth bathe in the morning and Ellon in the evening. Do you have any questions for me or anything you wish for me to show you during your stay with us?"

Dargan stepped forward as I accepted the clothing and basket in my arms and began quizzing Mabeth.

He did not wish to see around the city, he wanted to be taken to particular points in history; he wanted to be taken to where certain battles took place, or events that happened. The worst part of knowing history is knowing the inevitable, it will always repeat itself.

He sighed in frustration eventually not liking her answers, "Well I guess this will just have to do."

I sat down on the small couch and began eating the foods I knew he would have no interest in, leaving the bread for him. I knew I was in shock; I didn't need to complete my licensing to know that. Food is the best thing for us now. It was something I learned early on in my training, food is a good regulator, it can mean a good or bad patient experience.

Dargan sat down a polite distance away from me on the couch never quite touching me, as his hands began searching the basket and finding the bread. "You knew we would come here didn't you?" I asked quietly.

"You are a bad nurse and a bad listener." He replied sticking his tongue out to taste a torn piece of bread he held.

"Why are we here Dar?" I felt numb, I wanted to cry and scream, but the tears never came.

"You're here because you followed me; I'm here to fix things."

I began listing my symptoms in my mind. Numbness, confusion, disassociation, dizziness, and rapid heartbeat.

"Yeah I don't know why you followed me; you don't even like Middle-Earth. I'm going to change things though." He continued.

I thought back to an early lecture I attended on patient care. The speaker was a well-known Doctor specializing in Palliative Care. He explained different reactions to us when patients received the news there was no help to be had. Some reacted in rage he said, outbursts that weren't aimed at you as much as they were aimed at themselves for not spending the time they did have better.

Others he said reacted how I feel I am. "They might just sit there, emotionally unable to move. They might dissociate, and feel like nothing around them is real, or that it's actually happening to someone else." He said this was the most common reaction; it was the body's way of protecting itself from trauma.

There was a method on how to ease someone out of this emotional shock, it's by familiarity and control. You surround the patient with the familiar as best as you can, either by family members or even tv shows. You request comfort meals from the cafeteria for them, have their favorite nurse added to the rotation. For younger patients it was easier to distract them, video game consoles were donated often to the floor of the hospital we trained on, Death-wing we all called it. Video games were great because certain patients in their shock would almost itch with their antsy energy but become unable to function or even think, a simple game of Tetris did wonders.

I don't have that here, I don't have the familiar, I don't have any control in this world.

"When she was in my head she told me the date, we are two months before The Fellowship reaches Lórien." He continued peeling the outer crust off of his bread as if it were a banana. "You should go to bed, you look awful." He paused staring at me.

I didn't move, I don't think I would have been able if I tried. Eventually, he retreated to one of the rooms I have yet to explore; he didn't change into the clothing that was provided. I never left my spot on the couch, I don't know if I fell asleep or if I dreamed in my wake while staring blankly at the wall.

The next day Mabeth came by, Dargan answered the door avoiding eye contact, and pointed at my form on the couch. "I think it's her time of the month," he whispered, though his version of whispering was just adding a hiss to his words at the same volume he always spoke, very loudly.

She came to my side silently and seemed to understand at once what the cause for my state was. "Come, I'll show you the bathing spring." When I didn't move or even blink in her direction she placed an arm under my armpit and lifted me to my feet grabbing the clothing I didn't change into the night before in her other arm.

I seemed to float down the many steps down to the city street; I wasn't watching where I was going, it all didn't feel real. The Elves around me looked ethereal and timeless their long flowing robes seemed to glide across the ground. The underside of the leaves on the trees seemed to glow with a metallic golden and silver.

The ground beneath my shoes was soft and covered in lush, mossy grass. It felt like walking on a plush carpet. The bathing spring was a hidden oasis, a shimmering pool of crystal-clear water that sparkled like liquid diamonds. Its surface mirrored the surrounding trees and the azure sky above, creating an almost surreal reflection that seemed to blend the boundaries between earth and sky.

There were many Elleth already there when we arrived, if I weren't disassociating I would have perhaps blushed or turned my head away. The Elves had crafted a small, moss-covered stone platform at one end of the spring, where visitors could sit and immerse themselves in the water's embrace. The stones were warm to the touch, as if they had absorbed the sunlight throughout the morning, providing a comfortable place to relax. Mabeth led me to the water's edge then without asking or prompting began undressing me as a child.

I didn't fight her; I began disassociating even more until my body no longer felt like my own. The Elleth that cast curious looks at my nakedness didn't hold effect when I did that. As they bathed, the Elves would sing soft, haunting melodies that echoed through the trees and the very essence of the forest. The water was said to possess healing properties, soothing both body and spirit. It was a sacred and meditative experience, a way for the Elves to connect with the natural world and rejuvenate their souls.

I don't remember her guiding me into the pool, or the temperature of the water, but before I realized it we were seated on the edge together again. Our feet dangling into the water as she combed and braided my thick hair.

"Such beautiful hair and features, never have I seen such colorings in all of Arda." She murmured as her fingers gently crisscrossed different wefts of hair.

It wasn't until she was finished and was attempting to dress me once more that the numbness was replaced with panic and rage and I fought her. I'm sure she could have easily overpowered me, she was immortal, and much taller than I was, instead her expression changed to one of compassion and understanding and she grabbed my discarded scrubs along with my bra and panties and placed them in my wanting hands.

I didn't care that they were dirty, it was the only thing I had. She watched me with eyes of a mother as I dressed myself like a terrified mouse. "If you prefer trousers, I can bring you some of my son's old clothing for you later today, he has long outgrown it and it would be nice to see it worn, or perhaps our seamstress could sew you your own…" She began rambling.

I nodded. She smiled widely seeing it as a win; she placed her hand on my back and began walking me back to my talan. As I crossed the threshold I turned to face her, "Thank you for your kindness Mabeth."

The rest of the day was spent much as the same as the day before, staring blankly at the wall while I sat on the same divot I had left in the couch. Dargan was in a mood, he was pacing in circles around the couch, wearing a path into the floorboards. "No, if I do that then Jackson still becomes president…" He muttered to himself.

"You really think we're back in time and not some other world?" I interrupted him causing him to pause his step in front of me, he was tall and lanky and the sudden stop of movement made him sway like a tree.

"Yes." He blinked then continued walking, "Calico, do you remember when we learned about the Mayflower compact?"

I nodded slowly; his ramblings were familiar and safe.

"I don't know if I can make changes to the timeline because of that." I didn't interrupt with a why or how or a comment on how he loved Tolkien's work so why change anything, instead I leaned back into the cushion and allowed him to pace in circles around me and explain his extensive knowledge of random ancestry to me.

"-so you see, John Carver, very important figure in history I might add, would not be born or even thought of if I make a mistake!"

"If he isn't then wouldn't someone else rise up to fill his place?"

His hands patted against his jeans, "I forgive your ignorance."

It went on like that for hours, he would spout off how someone in history, I had no memory of so couldn't be that important, wouldn't exist, or even worse they would exist but be born crippled or die on the Titanic, all because of something Dargan did or didn't do.

I would interject here and there, but it was useless. Dargan believed any change he made to the timeline would be disastrous to the modern world, which only upset him further seeing as that's why he dragged me to those forsaken woods. And now here we are, yet he has no idea how to go home, or even if we can, and he's afraid to do anything here.

Mabeth knocked on the door shortly after he began his tangent on how he planned to stop eugenics from happening, which became a very thorough lesson as I thought he said Hughgenics, and said 'what?'

Eugenics, basically Darwinism, selective breeding of humans to perfect the race, excluding the inferior from reproducing. All you need to do is see a modern-day purebred dog to see the problem with eugenics, you can't breed out problems. Dargan became obsessed with eugenics our sophomore year when Thomas Jones told him in Algebra class that back in the day they would have sterilized people like him and they were right for it.

I knew all about this movement, we even learned about it in my nursing classes, its history in medicine disgusts me. Dargan believes it goes back to Middle-Earth, however, as those with Elven blood were deemed superior to others.

I opened the door for Mabeth who stared with wide eyes at the rambling Dargan; I graciously took her basket of food she brought, I noticed there were several folded and rolled tunics and trousers stuffed in between loaves of bread. She cleared her throat.

"Master Dargan, I can lead you to the Bathing spring now if you wish,"

"Ew, that's disgusting no thank you." He stared at her blankly.

"Dargan you can't just refuse to bathe all together! Nobody will even pay attention to you, I did it!"

He was beginning to irk me to no end, he was the whole reason we were here yet it seemed Middle-Earth, his obsession wasn't good enough for him now.

He dramatically dry heaved, Mabeth looked back and forth between us, "I can have buckets brought here for you if you prefer your privacy,"

"Don't baby him!" I yelled in anger.

I knew it was the shock, all my training, every seminar, I knew what stage I was in now. Shock often works like grief, after denial, it is commonly followed by rage. There was no reason to be angry with her, yet I was, and I was angry for the fact I was angry, irrationally.

I knew what would help, of course, a double dose of Sertraline, or Fluoxetine. I needed a strong anti-anxiety, anti-depressant, or perhaps I am clinically insane and instead, I need Clozapine an anti-psychotic.

"It's not her fault you didn't think to ask!" Dargan retorted.

Perhaps I am going insane, nursing school taught me much of insanity. Although schizophrenia can occur at any age, the average age of onset tends to be in the late teens to the early 20s for men, and the late 20s to early 30s for women. After learning that fact I remember lying awake in fear in my bed many nights counting down the days until I felt in the clear, though now I feel I am not in the clear.

There is no cure for schizophrenia, and though many doctors and those in the medical community will insist people with voices and images that reek terror on their very conscious can live a rich and meaningful life I do not wish to test the theory on myself. A sound mind is worth more than any weight in gold.

"I'm going for a walk," I announced, setting the basket on the couch and leaving Mabeth to deal with Dargan.

I didn't want to walk, I didn't want to be reminded I was in Middle-Earth, but perhaps I could find a way home? If I go back into the woods, retrace my steps, maybe I can find a way back.

I walked, no marched, down the many steps down to the forest floor. Anyone who has ever worn scrubs knows the swish-swish noise they make when you walk just a tad quickly; right now I'm sure the elves could hear me coming a mile away. I didn't know what direction to walk in so I just walked in the direction that held the least amount of Elves and when I would see one within my path I would turn and begin walking in a different direction the sun was beginning to set now but the canopy was still lit with a golden glow, the leaves themselves seemed more yellowed today than they were yesterday.

"Calliope," I heard a voice say in my mind and froze. "Come child," I looked around me to see that not far from where I stood was the Lady herself extending a delicate hand in my direction.

I tentatively placed my hand in hers as she led me into a glade. The air was filled with the soft scent of night-blooming flowers, and the gentle sounds of the forest whispered around us. In the center of the glade, a large, ornate pedestal stood, and upon it rested the fabled Mirror of Galadriel. I only knew what it was from Dargan rambling earlier about it.

The mirror was a marvel to behold, its surface as smooth and reflective as a calm lake at twilight. Its frame was adorned with intricate Elven designs and precious gemstones, and it seemed to emit a subtle, otherworldly glow. Everything here seemed to glow, the trees, the mirror, even the Elves.

Her voice, soft and melodious, held a hint of ancient magic as she spoke.

"This is my mirror," she said, her voice carrying the weight of ages. "It holds the reflections of time and destiny, revealing what may be, what could have been, and what is. It is a gift and a burden, for the truth it shows is not always easy to bear. Do you wish to see?"

With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, I approached the Mirror of Galadriel. As I gazed into its depths, the surface rippled like water, and scenes from the past and present began to appear before my eyes. I saw moments from my own life, glimpses of loved ones, and visions of places I had never been.

In one instance I was older much older, my vitiligo progressed taking over an eyebrow and set of lashes along with patches along my neck and exposed shoulders. My other skin had tanned, darker than anything I could have ever developed in real life. I was smiling, there was a child with me, I knew it was mine even though it didn't look like me. The child was blonde and blue-eyed, with skin so fair and unblemished. We were happy, laughing and smiling, and in Middle-Earth.

The next scene was me younger, I was held in the air by strange humanoid creatures with long arms and fanged mouths, with skin so gray and dark. There was yelling, men or Elves I'm not sure, they were running towards me, the beasts began to squeeze me, suffocating me and cracking my ribs as I squirmed and kicked. The yelling got louder and my body fell limp in the creatures hand. I knew by the chill in my spine that was my death, the mirror shown me my death, and my possible life here on Middle-Earth. It did not show me my escape, my return home, and my heart deflated at the reality. In all the possibilities I would be here awhile.

I withdrew from the Mirror of Galadriel, my heart and mind filled with the weight of its visions. Galadriel smiled gently, as if understanding the depth of the emotions that had stirred within me. I surprisingly felt more at ease after looking into the mirror, perhaps another symptom of my insanity.

"Remember what you have seen," she said, her voice a soft echo in the moonlit glade. "The mirror shows us the paths we might choose, but it is our hearts that ultimately guide us. Choose wisely, and may your path be filled with purpose and hope."

With her words lingering in my mind, I left the glade, and wandered until I found our treehouse once more, it was not difficult to find, not because it stood out. It was easy to find because Mabeth was still there standing in the threshold as if she attempted to leave and then got drawn back in and was far too polite to dismiss herself. Dargan could be heard from the forest floor.

Now he was ranting about satellite television, what that has to do with the fate of Middle-Earth, don't ask me.

A week passed the initial fight or flight began to wear off, I found myself speaking with the Elves out of choice and not necessity. Dargan has grown quieter himself, but still seems to be in an eternal bad mood.

Mabeth's son's old clothing fit me well; the trousers were just a bit too long. I had some skill sewing, it was something I learned how to do when I was an event planner. It was born out of need rather than want, as a job like that often required a state of dress I could have never afforded if I hadn't made it myself. The trousers were easy to hem and Mabeth was beyond excited to hear about my skill and brought over many more old garments thinking I might have use for them, I think it was just an excuse to free herself of them, Middle-Earth doesn't seem to have thrift stores.

It was easy to build myself a wardrobe in the short time I was here for the simple fact there was nothing else to do. No wonder everyone in history held so many skills; what else are they supposed to do with their time?

Dargan has refused any of the Elven clothing, even when I offered to sew him pants with pockets and a belt loop. He was very particular about textures, he has only ever worn one brand of t-shirts the entire time I have known him, it was a particular blend of cotton and polyester, it felt the same as any other shirt to me, but not him.

So he wore the same t-shirt and jeans, I don't think he's washed them either. I've made several capris and pants that even if they felt foreign they still looked a bit like home. I still haven't made another bra, how do you make a bra?! So can I judge him so harshly for wearing his comfort clothes when I refuse to go braless? The Elves I've noticed don't wear them, it's not noticeable really, most of their clothing is much layered with shifts and chemises and underskirts and so on. But the shape is different; I know the Elves have taken notice of mine even if they are polite enough to not comment.

I was currently working on ripping the seam out of a tunic from the pile she gave me. It was practically a knee-length dress on me. I would use my scrub top as a template. I haven't rushed sewing a shirt as much as I did pants, mostly due to the fact that the scrub top does not make the swish-swish noise when I walk. It's gotten cooler in the Golden Wood the last few days but it's never been icy almost as if the forest itself is keeping itself warm for the winter. The leaves too have changed rapidly from the soft yellowy green to now every leaf is a golden hue but the leaves refuse to fall and cling to the trees.

"Do you think Boromir or Faramir is hotter?" Dargan's question interrupted me. He was unbothered by my state of undress, we were roommates after all, I had taken my scrub top off earlier and was currently only in my new high-waisted pants WITH pockets and my bra.

"I haven't seen either Dar," I answered laying the now split tunic onto the ground to begin tracing the outline.

"Well, if Boromir lives then Denethor wouldn't have gone crazy would he?" He fell into pacing again, stepping over the mess of the living room with ease.

"I don't understand the problem," I began cutting the fabric carefully.

"If Denethor doesn't go crazy he won't try to kill Faramir!"

"That's good news, Dar," I said slowly holding up the strip of fabric I just cut.

"Oh Calliope, I wish I was as blissfully ignorant as you are." He sighed in exasperation, "If Denethor doesn't go insane with his grief then Faramir won't get injured! If Faramir isn't injured and in the house of healing then he will never meet Éowyn, if he doesn't meet her then Elboron will not be born, if he is not born then we can jump several hundred years perhaps and who is related to Elboron? Hmmm?" He stood in front of me now, "How about Alcibiades hmm?"

"Dar, I have never heard of any of these people I can assure you he cannot be that important."

He began speaking faster and I tuned him out. Tomorrow a poor Elf agreed to start training him for combat. They babied him here, we were both babied but at least I tried not to take advantage of it.

Anything he asked for or suggested it was done, we were guests of the Golden Wood, we were hope for them, children of the future. We were either treated with absolute reverence or like a child, there wasn't much in between. I can't imagine Dargan in combat at all, but he plans to join the fellowship and make as many changes as he can.

"You'll stay here of course," he had said one day offhandedly after he mentioned his upcoming schedule change.

"Dar you can't expect me to stay here with strangers while you go off gallivanting," I argued.

He shrugged, "I guess you can be useful if you become a better nurse."

All of Dargan's meals were brought to our talan, his bread prepeeled for him. Mabeth also bless her heart, do Elves have hearts? She has been a constant slave to him. But none of the Elves act off-put, they see us both as almost seers, as if it's an honor to care for us.

"I'm going for a walk," I announced as soon as I was finished with my new shirt. Hand-sewing made my fingers cramp after so long, it wasn't as luxurious as using a machine. The shirt was almost a carbon copy if my scrub in a light flax color, course fabric. I looked boho, with my high-waisted pants and V-neck shirt I didn't look myself but I felt more myself than in their designed clothing.

Dargan paid no mind to me exiting the talan. Elves I passed by I'd wave to or smile at; often they would stop and comment on my unique appearance. It was never a backhanded remark like it was in real life. The Elleth would beg to braid my hair, while a few Ellon would purpose themselves to make me blush then comment on the beautiful stars on my skin that lacked color.

This walk was much the same, though many stopped to make comment on my new attire. One particular Elf, the one who agreed to train Dargan made his appearance then. He didn't speak very good English, but was very sweet and always went out of his way to make me blush.

He was tall and blonde; he told me is brother is the Marchwarden, the one who carried me the day we arrived.

"Eyes," he said holding his arm out to link with mine. I turned my head to the side furrowing my brows, "My eyes?"

He nodded, pointing at my shirt then looking back up at me, "Eyes shine."

My eyes weren't like anyone here, they were green such a light shade that in certain lights they looked almost like seafoam.

I blushed, "Thank you, Orophin."

"Gil-galad," He grabbed my cheek in his hand and looked at my growing blush with wonder. Gil-galad means starlight, I was too embarrassed to ask him what it meant the first time I heard it so I repeated the phrase in my mind for several hours until I was back in my talan and could ask Dargan.

He isn't flirting; at least I don't think he is. Elves just seem to be so curious and innocent, I never felt unsafe in his presence.

"Thank you, nin Mellon," I mumbled still not confident with my pronunciations to speak louder than a whisper.

He let go of my cheek and smiled widely, "Mellon nin, My friend."

Normally that would be the end of our interaction, he would dismiss himself in Sindarin I would give a thumbs up and we would part ways. But today that didn't happen, we began walking again, our arms linked, he tried out several words on me and we both took turns pointing at things to learn the word in each language.

Our feet led us to the dining hall where he unlinked our arms and allowed me to make my own plate and find a seat.

I sat at a relatively empty table, it had one person sitting there with their back to me, so I couldn't tell if it were Elleth or Ellon, I have yet to meet an Elf without beautiful long hair.

Orophin sat down to my left shortly after I took my seat across from the Elf.

It was always a bit awkward with the Elves, as many here do not speak English, since I've been forcing myself out of the talan I've picked up on a few Sindarin phrases and try to say those as often as I can, they seem to enjoy it.

The Elf across from me smiled politely and greeted us both in Sindarin; I in turn spoke one of the only phrases I could remember off the top of my head. "Mellon nin," it didn't matter to them that we weren't technically friends or that I could hardly remember let alone pronounce their names, they still enjoyed it.

"Chert," Orophin pointed at my shirt with confidence looking at the other Elf.

"Shirt," I corrected absentmindedly.

The two Elves spoke quietly together when another Elf took the empty seat to my right. I immediately wanted to groan when I saw who it was. Barasil, Dargan told me his name loosely translates to eager moon. Which he lives up to. He isn't like the other Elves in the way that I can brush off his comments as just innocent curiosity, he unnerves me. He speaks far better English than Orophin though, almost as well as Mabeth.

He smiled seductively at me, widening his grin when he saw me flush. Why do I have to be such a girl?

"I see you have been busy," his eyes assessed my outfit and lingered on the shadow of my breasts before looking back up to meet my gaze. Orophin and the other Elf had stopped their discussion and I felt all of their eyes on me as the color flooded my face and chest.

"Where is our other seer?" He asked leaning down into my space causing me to gulp.

"D-Dargan is still in the talan…" I scooted as far back in my seat as I could to further distance myself from him. "He will be out more soon however, Orophin will be teaching him combat." I quickly changed the subject.

Barasil barked out a laugh, "Forgive me young Calliope, I was not expecting you to say that."

I couldn't tell if he was insulting Dargan or Orophin or perhaps both. I glanced at Orophin who looked visibly uncomfortable.

"I'm excited for him, I plan to go with and cheer him on." I smiled thinking about it; Orophin had no idea what he signed up for.

He smiled as if I had fallen into a trap, "perchance I will also find myself at the training grounds and we can place bets."