Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: Tolkien's world of Middle Earth and everything in it does not belong to me. My brain does not have the capacity to create such wonderful complex things.

-PROLOGUE-

Pain.

It hurt. I couldn't breathe.

What's that wheezing noise? It sounded like a strangled duck.

Oh. It's me.

Figures. I did currently have a hand stuck through my chest. Ack.

"DAWN!" A series of panicked yells reached my ears. I couldn't really hear very well though, everything was going kind of muffled.

I couldn't see very well either, my vision going dark and blurry and the edges but staring at the humanoid monster in front of me, I could've sworn it grinned a little.

Ah shit. We were way in over our heads.

Who knew they had such intelligent minds to carry out the strategy of 'go for the healer first'?

"..Run..!" I gasped weakly, praying hard that those fools of my friends wouldn't be so stupidly heroic as to try to save me, ignoring the fact that we were all dreadfully underequipped to deal with these blasted monsters. I was already done for, there was nothing they could do for me. If they didn't retreat now, then not just me, but all of us would die.

There's no way I've been helping and saving their behinds for so long just for them to throw away their lives to try to save my already fading one.

I could feel my body working overtime, but not even my increased rate of healing could do anything about it.

My ribs were broken, lungs and heart probably damaged too. The moment the monster ripped its arm out of me, I'd bleed out like a fountain.

I coughed wetly, spitting out the liquid pooling in my mouth. Blood probably. I could feel it dripping down my neck. Everything below that was starting to go numb.

"Dawn!"

With herculean effort, I turned my head to where the sob had come from. My lips twitched up feebly in a smile before I knew it at the sight.

My best friend, my sister from another mother, Lydia.

Don't cry. You've never looked more horrendous than right now, all blotchy and red. You don't cry prettily, unlike what you want to believe, and Lydia doesn't do ugly. That's your motto, isn't it?

Don't cry. Grab the others and run. If it's hand is still stuck in me, then it can't chase after you guys yet.

"..Run.. You fools..!" How many times did I need to tell them?! Stop staring and just go!

"Dawn! I'm sorry!" She cried, grabbing a wide-eyed Stiles by the collar and hauling him up. "Let's go! Run!"

No. No need to be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry.

The monster growled, glowing eyes following after their retreating figures, looking like it wanted to follow after them but seemingly decided not to, turning back to me. It flicked me off its arm, throwing my body roughly onto the ground like I was nothing more than some dirt on its arm.

It probably should have hurt, the way my head smacked into the ground.

But I didn't feel anything. Not one bit of pain.

If there was any any chance at all that I could have made it, I thought dryly, it was gone for sure now. My head was most probably split open too, in addition to the now gaping hole in my chest. Both draining away my precious lifeblood.

An agonized howl tore through the air, the sound so full of pain and despair it brought tears to my eyes.

Oh, Scott. Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. Never was, never will.

If anything, it was mine. But I don't regret it.

None of you should. It was an unconscious decision, my body just moved even before I knew it, running in front of Allison like that to take the blow, but I don't regret it.

I'm a protector. And she's alive. You're all alive.

My throat suddenly felt incredibly tight, a sob rising up.

There were still so many things I wanted to do. With you guys, with my family.

We were only seventeen. We were going to be seniors, we were supposed to tease the new freshmen on the first day back at school.

A tear slipped from my eye, sliding into my hair.

I'm sorry I couldn't help more. I'm sorry I have to leave first. I'm sorry I can't protect you all anymore. I'm sorry I won't get to help you pick your outfits anymore or give Stiles a swat for you when he's drooling over you.

I'm sorry.

My name is Dawn Gallagher.

And well, hello to heaven. I guess.

I hope they have dogs. I like dogs. Big fluffy ones.

A/N: Anyone got the reference, fellow fans? I don't own it either. Too lazy to come up with new names haha

Reviews please! I'd like to know what you all think! :)

Chapter Text

I’m dead. I’ve died and gone to the afterlife.

Dawn blinked, and blinked some more.

She was laying on the fluffiest bed ever with quilts of the softest material imaginable draped over her. The ceiling above her head was white marble, in a manner reminiscent to that of Victorian architecture, with intricate patterns and symbols carved into the walls and ceiling. And the room was large. Like ridiculously large, my-whole-room-is-less-than-half-this-size kind of large.

Surely, such luxury would exist nowhere other than in heaven itself.

Then, the dazedness gave way to panic.

She was absolutely certain she hadn’t done anything to deserve such a glamorous suite. Even if it was in heaven, it was definitely too much an overkill. She wasn’t that great of a person, Dawn thought. What kind of ranking system did Heaven have for its souls? Or did everyone receive this standard of generosity?

It was a mistake. She stiffened in the bed, not moving a single muscle. If this was someone else’s room, she was loath to touch anything she wasn’t supposed to. Although, it wasn’t really her fault she ended up in this room. She literally just woke up. Anything that happened while she was unconscious shouldn’t be on her head.

However, thinking carefully again, could Heaven even make a mistake? Dawn had seen a few comedy movies over the years. There were those with storylines where an angel accidentally messed up and made life – afterlife? – worse for the poor soul.

That had better not be the case. Dawn scowled. Angel or not, she didn’t think she could let whoever was the culprit off easily.

Don’t look a gift horse in its mouth, Lydia would say, take whatever is given to you in stride and deal with the consequences (if any) later. However, this was too suspicious for Dawn to accept. She’d learnt early on that there was no free lunch in the world, especially not one to this extent.

Something huffed a hot breath into her ear from the side.

An embarrassing high-pitched squeak escaped her and she reflexively squirmed away before freezing instantly. She didn’t want to wake whoever or whatever was in the bed.

She slowly turned her head enough for her to take a peek out the corner of her eye.

Dawn wondered if Heaven really was messing with her.

She knew she liked dogs. In fact, she vaguely remembered saying she wished she could own a dog, preferably one of the bigger breeds.

That, in no way at all, meant this.

She stared, nonplussed at the sight of the gigantic fluffy mass of fur lying next to her. It looked like it was taking up more of the bed than she was; the dog-wolf-canine was just that big.

Her fingers twitched towards it and she immediately clenched them into fists.

She would not, could not, wake the metaphorical sleeping lion just because she had the stupid urge to bury her fingers into that dastardly soft and cuddly looking snowy white fur. What if it woke up and bit her head off? That would be ridiculously suicidal. At that thought, she found herself wondering if there was even such a thing as suicide in the afterlife.

Furthermore, was this situation supposed to be some sort of punishment?

Barely a few minutes into the afterlife and Dawn was already stressed beyond belief. Her muscles were aching from how rigid she held herself. Afterlife wasn’t so euphoric after all, she thought cynically.

She gave herself a mental shake of the head, unwilling to even shift any more than she had already done and disturb the beast, ridding herself of those thoughts. They were important, but the most important thing right now was why was it even in the same bed as her?!

Was it a pet?! A guard dog?!

Dawn was torn between yelling and cursing, or just crying and wailing. Could she have been born under an unlucky star or something? Even while dead, she had a knack for landing herself in sticky situations.

What was she supposed to do?

She was about to just declare ‘screw it!’ and just do something, anything really, when the door creaked open.

A man’s head popped out of the gap between the door and the wall. Upon meeting eyes with her, he opened the door wider and stepped in. “You’ve awoken.”

“Are you an angel?” Dawn asked, quirking up an eyebrow. Angels nowadays sure had some weird fashion choices and good shampoo. She eyed his long flowy hair, slightly envious.

The male who had just swept into the room stared at her for a moment before his expression twisted. “What’s an angel?”

Giving a cautious glance to the slumbering animal beside her, she slowly sat up. “Someone who leads the souls of the dead to wherever they’re supposed to go?” She humored his question only because she appreciated the genuine-looking confusion on his face. The man had mad acting skills. She nearly believed him.

“We don’t have that here.” His tone was icy. Dawn belatedly realized she should have kept a tighter control over her emotions. It probably sounded too much like you’re-stupid-for-not-knowing-are-you-kidding-me.

“..You don’t believe in angels.” He really was kidding her. Did he think she would be so easy to trick?

“No, I believe my meaning was that this ‘angels’ do not exist here. I have never heard of the term.” Now, he was speaking to her like she was the child. Her hackles rose.

“Look here, you-“ Her eyes swept him up and down, searching for something to insult him about. She was wondering if it was satisfactorily rude enough to call his attire a dress that looked like it was made from her grandmother’s curtains, when her gaze landed on something that made her mind short-circuit.

Ears. The ears. His ears.

Pointy ears.

“Are you done gaping, child?”

Dawn would probably have been indignant about being addressed as a child but as matters were, she was, indeed, rudely gaping.

“Elves aren’t real.” She blurted out, and immediately closed her mouth with an audible clack of teeth. Her ears burned red hot.

“I assure you, we are very much real.” He stressed.

“This is a dream. Or the afterlife. Though I’m really wondering why there are elves in heaven.” Dawn pointed a shaky finger at him. “You, mister, are not real.”

She had to be dreaming. That was the only conclusion. Elves didn’t exist, and there was no reason for them to be existing in her heaven. She was expecting angels or maybe demons, but definitely no elves, nor wolves.

Dawn wasn’t dead. Miraculously. And if she wasn’t dead, then there was only one place she wanted to be right now. With her friends, whom she last saw running away from that horrendous monster. She had to know if they were alright. She couldn’t be cooped up here with this nutjob cosplaying as an elf in her mind.

Her subconscious better stop messing with her. Dawn wouldn’t stand for it.

She pinched herself, painfully, multiple times. And when that didn’t work, she made to give herself a slap. Surely, one good smack would send her back to the waking world. If not, the last resort would be to jump off a building though she wasn’t really keen on pulling an ‘Inception’. She had enough of dying already.

“What are you doing, child?! Why are you hurting yourself?” He stepped closer to her bedside in a movement so graceful she’d never be able to achieve even if she did ballet for a lifetime. Her hands were quickly pulled away by slender yet masculine fingers.

“I want to wake up!” She hissed at him while trying to yank out of his hold. It was futile. It was like she was caught by a stone statue. “You’re not real and this whole thing isn’t real! I’ve got better places to be at!”

“You’re awake.” His brows furrowed, a slight sympathetic tinge in his voice as he spoke to her. His calm and firm tone caught her attention enough for her to still her struggles. “This is real, child. You are neither dreaming nor dead. You are alive, here.”

“Where is here?” She was near tears with frustration.

“Imladris, the House of Lord Elrond.”

“And where is that?” She snapped, hazel eyes sparking with confusion-driven anger. “I don’t recognize any of those names!”

Why didn’t anything make sense?

“You are in Middle Earth. A whole other realm, I suspect.”

“It has been a few days since one of my patrol found you gravely injured in the woods.”

The elf immediately released her, straightening up with an incline of his head at the two new arrivals.

Dawn jolted with surprise at the two new voices. She hadn’t noticed their entrance into the room, so caught up with the first ‘elf’.

The first one who had spoken was a tall old man, though he didn’t exactly look frail, with twinkling eyes and a long grey beard. He tipped his pointed at her, and introduced himself as Gandalf, the Grey Wizard.

Her jaw dropped open.

The second one was an elf. The pointed ears peeking out from his brunette hair indicated so. He was the very definition of regal, both in his mannerisms and attire. He probably breathed dignity. The first elf introduced himself as Lindir, steward of Imladris, and the second elf as Lord Elrond, the well, lord of Imladris.

Elves and wizards. Stewards and Lords. Truly, her imagination knew no limits.

Imaginary they may be, her manners prompted her to give her name as well. “Dawn Gallagher.”

“How do you feel?” Elrond raised a hand once he was standing at her bedside.

Dawn flinched away.

The stern set to his eyebrows, then melted away. He didn’t smile, but at least, she got the feeling that he meant her no harm. She shoved the niggling thought of whether it was possible to get hurt in a dream to the back of her mind.

“Be at ease, child. He is the healer who saved your life.” Gandalf said.

“One of the very best in the whole of Middle Earth.” Lindir chimed in proudly.

So, when Elrond moved nearer again, Dawn didn’t move and let him rest his hand on her forehead. After a moment of concentration, he withdrew with an unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it? Is something wrong with me?” She caught the exchange of glances between Elrond and Gandalf.

“On the contrary, everything is as good as it can be.” Elrond raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “You heal much faster than a human should be capable of. Perhaps even our speed of healing might pale in comparison to yours.”

“Oh. Well. That’s odd.”

“Indeed, it is.” Gandalf leaned forward, eyes boring into hers.

Dawn made sure to not avert her eyes, staring back daringly. Her secrets were hers to keep until she felt that they could be trusted. Especially one such as hers that had a high chance of being abused. It was an ingrained instinct to not dole out any information after dealing with all sorts of monsters over the years.

As if sensing he would not win the battle, Gandalf’s gaze slid off to the side. “It appears the direwolf still has not left your side.”

Dawn realized the canine had completely slipped her mind. Surprisingly, it was still sleeping peacefully despite all the noise she must have caused arguing with Lindir before.

“Direwolf? Still?” She spluttered. “Wait, earlier, you said you found me in the woods? And something ridiculous about this place being a whole another realm?”

“Indeed.” Elrond said, casting a scrutinizing gaze over her. “I dreamt of your coming, and sent out some of my elves when the time was appropriate.”

“A dream? About me?”

“Gandalf moved to the armchair on the other side of the bed. “This will be a long discussion. Would you like to rest before we proceed on?”

“Not at all.” Dawn narrowed her eyes. “I’d like to know everything.”

“Very well,” Gandalf sighed. “You are not the first human to arrive here in this manner. Over the recent centuries, there have been records of humans appearing in Middle Earth. They had no knowledge at all of Middle Earth and constantly spoke of strange things which had never before been heard.”

“And now, I’m one of them.” Dawn said carefully.

“Yes, we believe so.” Elrond eyed her thoughtfully. “The attire you were wearing was one we had never seen before.”

“Denim,” She snorted. “One of the wonders of the modern world.”

“De..?”

“Denim. My jeans, the pants I was wearing. Speaking of which,” Dawn lifted the covers she was under to check. “Who changed my clothes?”

“My daughter, Arwen, did.” Elrond said stiffly.

“Right, so, the woods..?”

Elrond cleared his throat, glaring at the wizard who stifled an amused chuckle, before continuing. “You were found in the woods north of Imladris, bleeding profusely and unconscious. The direwolf was by your side, guarding you. It never went far throughout the journey here. You’ve been resting here for two days after I healed your wounds.”

Dawn stared at the white mass. So, it wasn’t a punishment or a rabid beast. She felt her heart warm, knowing it had protected her.

“I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t a dream. Or a really strange afterlife cooked up by tangling with too many monsters.”

“You are alive. Lord Elrond healed you.” Lindir protested.

“Except, I died. I’m sure of that. Well, humans generally can’t survive being impaled on a monster’s arm through the chest.”

Lindir’s face instantly blanched.

She only realized her arm had gone up, fingers still dazedly brushing over the area where she had clearly felt the creature’s arm, when their eyes followed the movement. Clearing her throat self-consciously, she jerked her arm back down.

“I was under the impression there were no monsters in your world.” Gandalf remarked.

“Only those involved know about it. Those who aren’t are none the wiser as to their existence.”

“You were involved.”

Dawn knew it was Gandalf’s attempt at prying for more knowledge though he didn’t ask any direct questions. She could play the same game. “Yes, I was.”

The two stared at each other for a while, neither backing down.

The wizard suddenly chuckled, standing up and moving to the door. “I see getting anything from you at this point of time is useless.” He tipped his hat at her in farewell, before musing out aloud as he stepped out. “Perhaps I should go for some ale?”

His abrupt departure left the room’s occupant baffled.

Lindir shook his head exasperatedly. “A wizard comes and goes as he pleases, truly.”

“We should take our leave too.” Elrond said. “I will send my daughter by shortly, to show you around. You are not a prisoner, but it would be unwise for you to leave Imladris’ protection when you know nothing of this world and its dangers.”

The two of them exited the room as well.

Dawn contemplated in silence, unsure of how to react.

Another world?

That was absurd. Her brain must be making use of all its thinking capacity to come up with such convincing backstories. Maybe she was in a coma?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Then, pinched herself again. It hurt, but she was still here.

Dawn flopped back onto the bed, fiery strands of hair mixing with the snowy white fluff of the so-called direwolf. She briefly wondered if it was such a heavy sleeper.

What else could she do to wake up?

She had to wake up. She had to get back.

What was it they said in ‘Inception’ again?

A grin spread over her lips.

Chapter Text

“Lord Elrond!”

The door flung open with a bang. Though, neither of the occupants in the room were surprised. Lord Elrond and his daughter had already heard her footsteps coming down the corridor with their exceptional hearing.

“Why am I not surprised?” Elrond noted dryly. At her sheepish smile, he only sighed and beckoned her forward. “Very well. Come in, child.”

Grinning widely, Dawn quickly darted to Elrond’s side, flashing Arwen a small smile.

On the bed laid a rather short man. Or perhaps he was not a man, Dawn mused. For his barefoot feet were a tad too large to be human feet and his ears slightly more pointed than human ears should be.

This was the one in the news flying around Imladris; the reason why she had come running. Arwen had brought with her someone injured by the blade of a Nazgul; monstrous creatures she had only heard or read about.

His wound looked just as monstrous; jagged purple lines spreading out from the wound, and the wound itself was dark red as though severely infected. The male’s face was ashen, furrowed brows showing the agony he must be experiencing. Just laying a finger on him sent shivers down her spine. The feel of the dark poison wreaking havoc in his body was horrifying.

Dawn felt a pang of pity and sympathy for him. He looked too young to be dragged into such business; to be the carrier of the One Ring. Somewhat like her friends in the world she was from; thrust unwillingly into the treacherous supernatural world.

“Lord Elrond,” Dawn spoke hesitantly. “The poison has been in him for far too long. Even with your expertise, I don’t think he can survive it.”

“I was afraid so.” The elf let out a heavy sigh. “The damage is extensive. There is not enough time for me to work.”

“Time?” Dawn perked up at that. “I can give you time. You can work your healing on me instead.” Before any of the two elves could react, she had grabbed hold of the hobbit’s hand.

Instantly, excruciating pain struck her. It was as though fire was running through her veins. Her legs buckled and she went down, knees smacking painfully onto the floor.

She could still remember the last time, she had desperately pressed her hands on someone close to the brink of death. That was the day, she had fully accepted her presence in this world and showed her trust in the elves who had taken her in.

It’d been a year or so, ever since Dawn had ended up in Middle Earth. She only knew because the seasons had come a full round. Realizing that counting days and months would only make the hole in her heart ache more, Dawn had thrown herself into reading and learning more about Middle Earth. After all, if she was going to be here for long, she couldn’t continue freeloading off of Elrond and his generosity.

She’d yet to tell them the specific details of her healing ability. For all they knew, she was just that odd exception in a long line of humans.

No, who was she trying to kid?

They most likely weren’t dismissing it. They were only waiting for her to tell them. The fact that she was up and walking barely two days after getting impaled through the chest, with nary a scar was impossible even with Elrond’s healing prowess.

Elrond had already come by her room several times, eyes burning with curiosity. That elf was someone with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, especially towards matters regarding healing. She’d have to give him credit for not beating around the bush or trying to trick her into letting a few snippets of information slip. In fact, Elrond had surprised her by asking her straight out.

In return, Dawn had truthfully told him that she wished to keep it to herself until she was sure she could trust them. It was something that could have severe consequences if the wrong people knew about what she could do.

For all that they’ve helped her, she was still afraid. After all, if her ability was misused, she could die.

In between reading and discussions with Lord Elrond, playing around with the twins, Dawn still thought of her friends, and sometimes the memories were of silly times and she could smile at them. Some days, the memories brought a crushing pain that she couldn’t bear and those days, she escaped to the library of Imladris. Filled to brim with shelves and shelves of books, she’d spend the day scouring for books in their common tongue – surprisingly similar to medieval English. Other days, she’d spend time with Arwen learning the Elven tongue – the pronunciation was not easy but the reading and writing was marginally better. She always felt bad for butchering the lovely tones of their language.

Slowly but surely, as the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the gaping ache in her chest lessened. She wasn’t fully patched up. There were still holes here and there, unable to be filled by pieces that didn’t exactly fit.

But it was better.

She was better.

That day, the twins had dragged her out on a horse ride, claiming that she was stuck in the library too often and needed some fresh air. It was the perfect time for a day out, and they had wanted to show their newest resident how the outskirts of Imladris looked as well.

Curious about the scenery she always saw from the windows and balconies, Dawn had readily agreed. The dog, which she had tentatively nicknamed ‘Fluffy’ for the time being, came along too. She reckoned it was probably in need of a good run too.

It wasn’t a wrong choice. Feeling the wind thread through her hair atop the horse was exhilarating. It brought a smile to her lips, and a laugh bubbled out of her as she raced the twin brothers.

Alas, the fun didn’t last long.

While galloping circles around Dawn, both brothers suddenly perked up, expressions sobering in an instant.

“What’s the matter?” Dawn asked, a little unnerved by the serious look on their faces. “Is something wrong?”

Fluffy had stopped prancing around too, looking at them and panting silently, ears perked up.

Elladan glanced back at her, then at his brother, looking somewhat conflicted. “There are foul creatures ahead.”

“Orcs.” Elrohir grit out, facial features twisted in anger. “To think they dare come so far...”

Understanding dawned on her then, these were the monsters that had robbed them of their mother. Those orcs could harm whoever was in the area, couldn’t they? It wouldn’t do to let them continue loitering around Imladris either. She gripped the reins of her horse tighter in preparation. “What are you waiting for then? Lead the way!”

Both brothers balked at that.

“You’re not coming along!”

“Stay here!”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “You can’t believe that I’ll be safer here without the two of you. Just out in the open here like this.” She gestured to the sprawling plains they were on, sparsely dotted with the few trees and bushes. She’d be a sitting duck. “I have basic training in combat, archery training from you two, and Fluffy is here too. I’ll stay out of the way and give support, alright?”

Elladan didn’t look happy, but he nodded and with a glance to his brother, they were off.

Bursting into the clearing where the orcs were camping, the twin brothers immediately flew into action. Their swords were drawn out and embedded into orc flesh within seconds.

Chaos descended in a blink of an eye. Swords, axes and hammers flying about in a flurry.

Dawn was slightly happy to left out of that mayhem. She notched an arrow, intending to stay back and provide support fire as she had promised, only to freeze the moment her eyes landed on the orcs.

Her arrow was notched, and bowstring drawn, but she couldn’t fire the arrow.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. These were orcs?

Truly befitting of the moniker; foul creatures. They were grey and pale, with pointed ears, sharp teeth and fangs. Some were more humanoid in shape; tall and straight posture, while others were more bestial; with twisted animal features and hunched backs.

These creatures had existed in Middle Earth for years and years, Elladan and Elrohir had said so.

Yet, why did she know these orcs when she was from a different world?

Yet, why was this not the first time she had seen such creatures?

Without a doubt, she had seen these creatures back in her home world. They were one of the monsters she had fought against with her friends. How could it be? She had barely accepted being in Middle Earth, why was the world doing this to her?

Was it really just a dream?

In a daze, she failed to notice a few of the orcs creeping towards her direction. The elven brothers were too much of an opponent for the orcs to take, but the human female would be much easier. With some luck, they would be able to get away with a pretty hostage to torture as a bonus.

Fluffy let loose a battle howl, pouncing on the closest one sneaking towards Dawn. It was that howl that drew the attention of the brothers.

“Dawn!”

The yell of her name, so similar to what she had heard moments before her supposed death. More melodious and airy, the sound was so different. It was something no one in her world could have.

That difference snapped her out of it, just in time to catch the glint of a sword aiming for her. In a flash, Elrohir was there in front of her. Still, he was struck, body twisted in a position too awkward to block the blow completely in his rush to get to Dawn.

Dawn watched, stunned, as Elrohir crumpled to the ground.

A dream. That’s what this world was. Just a dream, wasn’t it?

She could barely process it. Everything felt muffled, like her ears were filled with water. The worried and furious shouts and clangs of metal alike all seemed miles away.

When she finally resurfaced, flinching away, it was to the cold and wet snout of Fluffy pressing against her cheek. Instantly, her vision sharpened and focused.

Elladan had pressed his hands over the wound, trying to apply enough pressure to slow the blood flow. She desperately followed, placing her hands over his.

The blood gushing over her fingers. Warm, sticky and slippery.

Then, why did the blood feel so real?

“Why?” She cried. “Why would you do that for me?”

He replied through bloodied teeth, grunting in pain as he forced the words out. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were, sunrise.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Elrohir!”

Then, why did the panic feel so real?

Elladan was the one who answered this time. “You’re as good as a sister to us now, Dawn. We’ve taken you under our wing.”

“You’re our little sunrise.” Elrohir croaked.

Before she knew it, she was shoving roughly at Elladan’s hands. “Rip open his tunic!”

 “What-“

“Rip it open now! Or he’ll die!” She snarled.

Then, why did she feel such horror at thought of him dying?

His eyes roved over her face. She figured he must have seen the conviction in her eyes because as bewildered as he still looked, he followed her instructions. Elrohir’s chest was exposed to her in a second, the cloth torn apart with no effort.

There was no nausea nor a sickening feeling in her gut as she stared at the gruesome sight. Such times had long past. The slash wound was deep; she could see flashes of white bone amongst the red rapidly oozing out now. Without hesitation, she slapped her hands down right on it and willed.

Her eyes closed in concentration and she ignored the sound of Elladan’s breath hitching and Elrohir’s pained grunts.

She could feel it working. The muscles were knitting back under her palms, and the warm gush of blood between her fingers was lessening. 

Then, why was her relief so intense?

Within seconds, all that remained of the wound was the blood staining all of them.

Elrohir lurched upright, staring down at his torso in amazement. His hands ran over the smooth skin restored to how it was before, not even a scar visible to their elven eyesight. Elladan, too, couldn’t stop staring. For such a wound to be healed so quickly and perfectly…

Dawn huffed out a snort. The disbelief of others whenever she healed their injuries never got old. Somehow, healing her own injuries wasn’t that big a deal but healing theirs was.

“Sunrise,” Elrohir breathed out. His awestruck expression turned into a frown. “Sunrise?”

Her breath came out in pants. She could feel a growing headache, and sweat dripping down the side of her face. “Fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Elladan caught her when she tilted to the side.

She knew the moment he realized. His arms stiffened when his hand brushed across her front.

“Are you injured as well?!” Elrohir demanded when his brother immediately began checking her over.

“No, the only blood on her should be yours, brother.” Elladan observed, eyes flickering over her blood-stained tunic. “There aren’t any tears in her clothing either.”

“Stop feeling me up,” Dawn groaned, swatting weakly at his hands.

“You said earlier that it wasn’t the time for jokes.” Elrohir narrowed his eyes at her.

“Dawn, are you wounded?” Elladan peered into her eyes worriedly. “Tell me the truth.”

“I am,” She reluctantly said, wincing. It was much worse than she had expected. Her vision was already blurring at the edges.

“Ban-” She meant to sound firm, but her voice came out as a weak croak. She cleared her throat. “Bandage me up, and I’ll be fine.”

Her head rolled back, going limp. She was too tired to sit up any longer. Her body felt heavy and the black in her vision was creeping further in.

“Dawn! Elrohir, get the horses!”

Dawn wanted to tell them to not worry. She’d be fine. Elrond had said her rate of healing was almost faster than that of the elves, anyway.

But before she could get out a word, everything went black.

When she woke up, she was back in her room in Imladris. The ever so familiar ceiling peered back at her, and the warmth of Fluffy lying next to her.

Elrond was staring at her, face unreadable.

She stared back at him hesitantly. No matter whether he was the Lord of Imladris or not, it was still creepy to stare at someone while they were sleeping.

His eyebrows pinched together just that slightest bit.

“Shit, did I say that out loud? Sorry, that’s so rude of me, especially with everything you’ve done for me. It made me uncomfortable, not that it’s you, of course, but really, do you know how it feels to wake up and have someone staring-sorry. I’ll-I’ll just shut up now. Like right now. Yep.”

“Sorry!” She squeaked again, before closing her jaw with an audible clack of teeth.

“Child, your ability…” He inhaled deeply. “You transfer wounds. To yourself. Your wound was exactly the same as what my son described. Only, it was what had happened to him. You were not struck by any sword.”

Dawn could only nod in reply.

“Does your power come from your hands? My son mentioned that you had your hands on the wound.

Before long, they were embroiled in a long discussion about all the intricacies of her ability. Elrond had never before seen such a healing skill, nor such a self-sacrificial one. It took a long while before Elrond was somewhat satisfied, and she was mentally drained by then.

Looking forward to a good rest, she had just fluffed her pillow when knocks on the door sounded, followed by yells of her name.

“Come in.” She groaned.

It was the twin brothers.

She sat up immediately. As expected, Elrohir was the vision of perfect health but she couldn’t help but scan him for any signs of discomfort.

“Rest assured, lil’ sunrise. I’m perfectly healed.” He beamed at her.

Still, she couldn’t get rid of the lingering feeling of guilt. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention and you-“

A hand roughly landed on her head, cutting her off. “No apologies needed. I wanted to protect you.”

“We told you before.” Elladan flashed her a charming smile, though she could see how seriously he meant his words. “You’re not dying anytime soon, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I’m not dying anytime soon.” Dawn repeated with a smile.

A few days later, when Dawn felt she had mustered up enough strength to not turn into a blubbering mess at the thought of her home world, she spilled her story to the elven family.

It took several hours, but they were patient, and listened carefully to every word she had to say. Everything from how she had met her friends, to how she had ended up in Middle Earth with such grievous wounds.

How she had already been supernatural with her healing abilities, how her friends had been bitten and turned into werewolves and all their struggles to accept the pros and cons of being a supernatural creature.

How they had somehow taken up the responsibility of protecting the town and how they had been in life or death fights against evil creatures far too many times for people their age.

Her heart was already feeling lighter. Perhaps, the pieces that were the elven family still wouldn’t fit right in her heart, but in this new and unfamiliar world, she’d somehow gained a new family. And not everyone could be so lucky as to have found two different sets of family with ties stronger than blood.

And, with all this heartwarming bonding, Dawn had forgotten about the orcs, creatures that had also appeared back in the world she came from.

Chapter Text

The same old patterns.

The same old symbols.

The same old colours.

Dawn was getting pretty sick of that ceiling.

Maybe she should ask Elrond to have her put in a different room each time she passed out from healing.

She groaned, sitting up with herculean effort. Her body was so stiff and heavy. Twinges of pain shot through her with each movement, like muscle ache after a long run beyond one’s stamina.

Dawn could still remember the fire of the poison racing through her veins. She cringed. Why were the dangers of this world so merciless? She didn’t know how long had passed but she still wasn’t fully healed. The pain had dulled, but the poison was still in her.

While shuffling to the edge of the bed slowly, Dawn accidentally put her hand on the tail of Fluffy. The direwolf snapped its teeth at her with a snarl before burying back into the quilts. Well, excuse her for not knowing where the quilts ended and the dog began. She eyed the canine incredulously.

Dawn gingerly set her feet on the ground. The moment she stood upright, however, her head spun. Oh, what a wrong decision. She sat back onto the bed with a sigh. Help would be needed for her to get out of the room. There was a patient she needed to check on.

Eyeing the white fluff on the bed, she nudged it gently. “Hey, doggie, doggie. Time to wakey wakey.”

The dog had the gall to growl at her again.

Dawn let out a huff of indignation. Don’t blame her for being rough, then.

“Up! You lazy dog!” She delivered a hard smack to its rump, putting her weight behind the swing of her arm. The thing was half the size of a horse, and full of muscle, there was no way her smack would be anything other than a rude awakening.

Fluffy bolted up onto all fours with a yelp, sending Dawn tumbling off the bed and onto the floor where she landed with a thud.

Guardian dog, her ass, Dawn thought bitterly.

Fluffy padded over, stuffing its nose into the crook of her neck and snuffling. A low whine sounded.

“Oh, alright.” Dawn huffed. She wasn’t exactly all sunshine either at the moment. She patted the wolf’s head, threading her fingers through its fur until the aches in her body subsided.

Bracing a hand on its back, Dawn pulled herself up into a standing position. The movement didn’t make her as dizzy as before. She took it as a good sign, good enough for someone still poisoned.

“C’mon, buddy.” She beckoned to the fluffy canine. Using the dog who’s height came up to higher than the waist, as a crutch, Dawn made her way out of her room.

An elf passing by, was kind enough to lead her to the room her patient was staying in, though he kept shooting her concerned glances. Apparently, as the elf told her, he was indeed not human, but a hobbit.

Only a day had passed. The hobbit’s other friends had also arrived, and were impatiently waking for Frodo, her patient, to awaken. Spotting her expression, he hurried to reassure her. Elrond had said he was just drained from the physical stress and emotional strain. The journey from the Shire to Imladris had not been smooth sailing at all.

As they turned the corner, Elrond was standing there in the corridor. The kind elf left with a nod after passing her arm over to Elrond who chided her. “You shouldn’t be walking around. You have gone pale.”

“How is Frodo?” Dawn asked. She didn’t see the need to worry. Despite how shaky her legs were, she would be fine by the next day.

Choosing to let Dawn make her own diagnosis, Elrond led her into the room and gestured for her to check Frodo.

Gandalf, sitting by Frodo’s bedside, tipped his hat at her in greeting. “You have my gratitude, Dawn Gallagher.”

She weakly smiled back, having long kicked the habit of waving or handshaking, before stepping closer to Frodo. “It was nothing, really.”

The hobbit was looking much better than before. Sweat no longer beaded on his brow and his complexion was healthily pale instead of a sickly pale.

She laid her fingers on his neck, the closest spot to where the wound used to be that was not covered by his clothes, extending her senses into his body. A sigh of relief escaped her. There was no sign of the horrifying poison. Nothing at all.

“How is he?” Gandalf asked.

“He’s healed, fully.” Dawn chuckled, a wide smile spreading over her face. “Merely recovering from fatigue. He’ll wake soon.”

Sure enough, the next morning, Dawn received the news that Frodo had awakened.

She couldn’t help but worry though. Elrond had told her something troubling yesterday, after they left Frodo’s room.

“I have called for a secret council.” His eyes were serious and dark. “Frodo has brought a great evil to our door. It will need to be dealt with. Representatives of the major races will be arriving within days.” Elrond seemed weary as he spoke.

“Because of that ring?”

“We suspect it is the One Ring.” Elrond’s eyebrows furrowed that miniscule bit. “A dark relic. It ensnares the mind, whispers promises of your deepest desires and of power. So as to return to its master, Sauron. Man are the most susceptible to its call.” He bit out. “It is because of Man that the ring still survives.”

Elrond must have felt the way she stiffened in his hold from the harshness of his tone, the disdain obvious. He spoke softly now. “I doubt it will have much sway over you. You are one of the few selfless humans I have had the pleasure to meet. No greedy man could ever wield your power as well as you have.”

The whole thing just sent shivers down her spine. To think of something that could corrupt your mind, and Frodo had been carrying such a burden with him for days! He must have quite the extraordinary willpower in order to resist it.

Sighing, Dawn went over to the windows, hoping some fresh air would clear her mind of these worries. There was no balcony in her room, Elrohir had relocated her to a different room after she had jumped and sprained her ankle.

She had already been lazing on the bed for the whole morning. Elrond had once again, grounded her to her room. After the fatherly lecture she had received, Dawn couldn’t fight back against his decision. It was true that she was in no state to be traipsing around Imladris anyway. She had ached down to her very bones after returning from Frodo’s room.

Dawn was bored now though.

Elladan and Elrohir had been sent to rendezvous with the Rangers of the North, remnants of the Dúnedain. Men that were of noble blood, descended from the first High King of Gondor. Dawn was curious, after all, she hadn’t seen any humans after landing in Middle Earth. The twins however, had put their foot down and forbid her from coming along.

Arwen was busy trying to meet her secret lover. She had come once this morning to visit, looking rather pleased, but had made an excuse to leave more quickly than expected. Unfortunately for her, Dawn was well-versed in excuses from watching her friends lie to their parents whenever there was a monster to fight. She had refused to let Arwen leave until she spilled the true reason.

Fluffy had been sent out to play. There was no need for the protector dog to hang around when she was confined to her room. No harm would come to her in Imladris.

Dawn hated when there was nothing to do. There was nothing to distract her. It was moments like this when the memories of her home world would attack her again. Furthermore, it was extremely reminiscent of the time when she had locked herself in, strongly in denial.

A spark of terror ran through her.

This wouldn’t do.

She couldn’t let the memories drown her again.

She had to get out.

There was only the problem that she had promised Elrond to rest. Honestly, Dawn was a little miffed that Elrond was grounding her like she was some disobedient child. Her twentieth birthday had already passed not long ago.

Dawn didn’t intend on running around anyway. All she wanted was to have a different view and open air. It reminded her far too much of the empty house back in her home world.

In the end, after some arguing with herself, Dawn had managed to come to a decision. She would go to one of the gardens inside Imladris, and sit and rest. She wouldn’t engage in any type of strenuous activity. This way, even if Elrond would be angry, he wouldn’t be too angry. Technically, she promised to rest. And she would be resting, just not inside her room.

Dawn did not expect the amount of physical effort it took to get to the garden. It was further than she expected, or her condition was worse than she thought. Either way, she was more than a little light-headed by the time she arrived. Dragging her feet to a grassy spot under the shade of a tree with beautiful flowers, she sat down heavily.

She flopped back onto the ground, treating the surprisingly comfortable grassy floor as though it was her bed. This was much better, Dawn mused. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart, and she felt like she had just run a marathon. But this garden was worth the effort.

The refreshing breeze blowing against her, the soothing rustle of the leaves in the wind and the sounds of water from the small stream nearby soon lulled her into a drowsy state.

Dawn startled awake when something fluttered against her hand. Thinking it might be some type of animal or creepy crawly, she bolted upright only to sag once again, vision going white from the sudden change in position.

Holding a hand to her head, she moaned in pain.

“I apologize, my lady.” A soft careful voice came from her side. “I did not mean to startle you.”

It was a male elf.

She couldn’t help but eye him curiously. He looked tall, and handsome but that wasn’t what drew her eyes. Unlike most elves in Imladris who had dark ebony hair worn loose, his hair was of the fairest colour – nearly platinum blonde, shining silver – and interspersed with complicated braids. She’d never seen such a colour, not even in her world. No hair dye colour could ever live up to that shade of blonde.

Strangely, he was clutching a brown cloak in his hands instead of wearing it.

Dawn realised belatedly that the fluttering sensation wasn’t from an animal, but from when he tried to drape his cloak over her. She laughed, wanting to facepalm at her slowness.

“My lady, are you well?” He asked again, still kneeling by her. No doubt he was getting alarmed and thought her delirious. In pain one moment, and laughing the next.

“Oh! Yes, I-I’m fine.” Dawn really wanted to facepalm now. How could she have just stared and forgotten to reply him?

“Fine?” He parroted, the word coming out hesitantly.

The perplexed expression on his face wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. Dawn had seen it often on Arwen, Elrohir and Elladan’s faces before when she was still new to the more formal way the elves tended to speak in. She had to try very hard to adjust her speech and cut down on the modern slang.

“It means to be well. Satisfactory. Nothing troubles me.”

“You are feeling fine.” He tested out the new word, smiling when Dawn didn’t correct his sentence.

His face didn’t change much, but Dawn had grown used to reading the miniscule changes in the expressions of the elves over the years. There was a light in his eyes that spoke of his joy and satisfaction. She didn’t understand why he was so interested though, her speech always made her feel uncouth among the prim and proper elves (excluding the twin brothers who were the rowdiest elves she had ever seen).

“May I?” He gestured to the spot beside her.

Dawn smiled with a nod despite her confusion and he gracefully sank to the ground.

He glanced at her curiously. “You speak strangely, my lady, unlike any human I’ve met. From where do you hail?”

At that, everything she had been trying to escape came rushing back.

The elf quickly uttered an apology, sensing the sudden dip in her mood. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His voice was full of guilt, and Dawn felt a little bad. How many times had he apologized to her already? He was too kind for his own good.

“No need to apologize.” She smiled tiredly at him. “It is but an old wound that still hurts.”

“There is no rule that wounds must stop hurting after a certain time.” He said resolutely.

Maybe because he was a stranger but Dawn did not feel averse to sharing her story. After all, people sometimes preferred to spill their secrets to strangers they would never meet again rather than to family and friends. Or it could have been his words, so firm in his belief that Dawn felt he wouldn’t think poorly of her.

“A distant land, far away.”

“How did you come to be in Imladris if your it is so far?” He ventured upon seeing that she didn’t seem too unwilling to speak about it.

“I wish I knew too.” Her voice was resigned, defeated. “I just woke up in the forests one day.”

“I have travelled far and wide as a messenger.” He offered. “Perhaps I have been to your homeland?”

The good-natured elf, who was trying to comfort her in any way he could, had no clue at all. It was an entirely different world. How could he have been there?

“It’s too far. I doubt you would have.” Dawn shook her head with a grateful smile. She sincerely appreciated his efforts in soothing a visibly saddened woman. Any of her friends from before would have been awkward bumbling fools. “Even Lord Elrond does not believe there is a way for me to return.”

“Truly?” He murmured, his tone sorrowful. “I cannot imagine how that must feel..”

“Horrifying.” Dawn muttered, overcome by bitterness. It had been a while since she had felt this way.

“Sorry!” She quickly backtracked, spying the slightly widened eyes of the elf. “I didn’t mean to-“

“It is fine.” He held up a hand, eyes twinkling cheekily at the usage of the new word he just learnt. “Losing your home is no insignificant matter.”

Dawn gave a dry laugh. “Honestly, it isn’t too bad.” She waved a hand at the picturesque scenery of the garden they were in. “Imladris is beautiful and the elves have been graciously kind.”

He merely smiled in response. “I am glad. Imladris suits you well.”

“What brings you here?” He was not an elf of Imladris, for sure. Dressed differently, and looked differently too.

His expression turned sombre. “I come bearing news from Mirkwood. A prisoner has escaped, and with it, I fear something bad approaches.”

“Nothing good has been happening lately.” She sighed.

The elf hummed lowly in agreement.

Dawn laid back onto the ground, staring blankly at the leaves above her.

War was approaching, she gathered from what Elrond had said. War with Sauron, involving the ring. She wondered who would be fighting in it, what decisions would come out of the council, and what would happen to Frodo the hobbit.

Shaking her head free of depressing thoughts, Dawn turned onto her side, facing the male elf. There was someone new here, who had travelled around. She might as well hear about the outside from him, rather than from reading books.

He was staring at her, eyes gleaming with amusement and she beamed up at him. “Will you tell me of your home? Mirkwood, was it?”

A chuckle escaped him. “What would you like to hear?”

“Anything.” Dawn laughed. “The trees. The animals. The elves. What are they like?”

And then, she listened, enraptured, as his low voice spun tales of his forest home and childhood shenanigans so vivid she could almost imagine herself there when it happened.

It was only when the sky darkened that Dawn realised it had been hours since she had left her room. She muttered a curse under a breath. Elrond would be by to check on how she was healing from the poison she took into herself from Frodo. Dawn would be in for it if Elrond realised she had snuck out.

“My lady?” The elf startled, as she suddenly scrambled to her feet while he was talking.

“Sorry! It’s been hours!” She groaned, casting a troubled glance at the sky.

“Shall we?” Without question, the elf offered her his arm. Something shone in his eyes as he gazed down at her. “I haven’t quite finished my tale yet.”

A laugh bubbled out of her as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Make it quick.” She teased. “Lord Elrond will have my head if he finds out I’m not there.”

Make it quick, indeed. As he led her out of the garden and along the halls of Imladris, the elf wrapped up his story so fast – pausing only for her to give directions – that Dawn couldn’t quite believe it had already ended.

“You are unwell?” He asked, concern obvious in his voice. He remembered the lady had gripped her head after she woke, and the way she was walking now told of body aches and muscle pains. He had drawn the conclusion, knowing that Elrond was recognised throughout the lands for his prowess in healing.

“Yes, well..” Dawn laughed nervously. She couldn’t exactly tell him she was poisoned, because who would dare poison someone in the Lord of Imladris’ domain. And neither elf nor man would be stupid enough to poison someone who was under Elrond’s care because the elf lord would surely be able to heal that victim.

Stopping in front of her door, the blonde elf mused thoughtfully. “You are full of secrets, my lady. Perhaps next time, you will be the one telling tales of home.”

With a smile, he bid her a good night and headed back the way he came.

Only after he had turned the corner, did Dawn realize she never asked for his name.

Hobbits were a rather cheerful bunch, Dawn observed.

The four of them were playing around on one of the large balconies, overlooking the nearby forests. She had been surprised to find out that they had become friendly with Fluffy. It was hilarious, and slightly disturbing, seeing as the canine was only a head shorter than them even while on all fours.

Elrond, happy to see that she was back to peak condition and fully healed, had introduced her to the hobbits that morning. Apparently, they were all eager to meet Frodo’s saviour.

Two had clumsily sank into a bow, before bombarding her questions with bright smiles. Merry and Pippin.

The one that silenced them with an exasperated glare was Samwise, though he asked to be called Sam.

Dark-haired with blue eyes had thanked her sincerely. So sincerely that she knew he knew the full extent of what she had done to save him. Frodo.

Last but not least, an elderly looking hobbit always scribbling in his book. She sat with him, fascinated by the story he was penning, while keeping any eye on the youngins. Frodo’s grandfather, Bilbo Baggins.

She was glad to see Frodo laughing as Fluffy playfully chased the hobbits around. The warm feeling she felt whenever one of her patients were back on their feet never got old.

She wished the hobbits hadn’t been dragged into the chaos surrounding the ring. Such brightness and cheer shouldn’t be tainted by blood and fighting. They shouldn’t have had to worry and fear for their lives.

It had been a long time since she didn’t need to worry about looking behind her back or manoeuvring life or death situations. She liked the peacefulness, she liked reading in the library, the mundane everyday things in Imladris. Hopefully, with the Council in a few days, everything would be back to normal soon.

Alas, that was not to be.

“You want me to join the Council?” Dawn asked incredulously. “Why-how does-what’s that got to do with me?”

The Council would be happening later that afternoon. Why were the only telling her now?

Elrond and Gandalf were both solemn.

“Dawn, child,” Elrond started, looking like he had eaten something sour. “There is something I have not told you.”

Her gut twisted. Something told her she wouldn’t like what Elrond was going to say.

His eyes bored into hers. “It is not a coincidence that you were sent here at this time. You are different from the otherworlders that came before you. You will be crucial in the war against Sauron.”

Dawn fumbled for words, unable to understand what Elrond was telling her, what this conversation was leading to. “..What?”

“At the time, you had just found the will to live here in Middle Earth. If it did not come to fruition, we did not wish to see you..” Elrond exhaled roughly. “You were alive but you did not look or behave as though you were.”

“It is but a theory.” Gandalf sighed out. “We believe there is a way for you to return to your world.”

Dawn was stunned speechless. She couldn’t believe it. Just what were these two talking about?”

“You spoke of the orcs. Orcs that were from Middle Earth appeared in your Earth. People that were from Earth appeared in Middle Earth. There are holes between the two worlds, through which things can slip through.” Elrond paced around the room. What his expression was, she didn’t know. At the moment, she couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Sauron has gone against the natural order of the world, and by doing so, has torn apart what keeps the two worlds separate. It is our theory that should Sauron be defeated, the rift between Earth and Middle Earth will be mended. That is your mission, your purpose. Once that is completed, it is then that the chance to return to your home will appear.” Gandalf’s spoke clinically, as if he was commenting about the weather, as though he hadn’t just turned her world upside down again.

“How do you know?” Dawn asked. Even to her own ears, her voice came out strangled.

“The direwolf.” Elrond glanced at the beast slumbering at Dawn’s feet. “No direwolf has been sighted for thousands of years. The fact that one appeared by your side and protects you is telling.”

Dawn forced the words out, her hands clenching into fists. “So, if the ring is destroyed and Sauron is defeated, I can go.. home.”

Home.

Just one word.

But with so many meanings.

Just what did ‘home’ mean to her now?

Where was home?

Home, here in Imladris? With Elrond, Arwen, Elrohir and Elladan that had become close to her heart?

Or home, back on Earth? With her ragtag group of friends that first made her realise blood did not make family?

“Dawn, listen well. It is no longer the Age of Elves. More and more of my people are sailing to the Undying Lands each year. Soon, Imladris will be empty.” Elrond delivered yet another bit of information that left her reeling.

“There will be nothing left for you here.” Gandalf emphasized. He laid a gentle yet firm hand on her shoulder before speaking the words she didn’t know whether she wanted to hear or not. “You should return to where you came from.”

Needless to say, Dawn remained stunned for a long time after the both of them left.

Thoughts kept spinning and spinning around in her head.

Not for the first time, Dawn wondered about Earth.

She wondered what had happened there after she.. after. Would there be a body? Did her friends know that she was still alive? Did they think that she had suddenly disappeared into thin air? Had they mourned her for all these years?

How much time had passed? She had spent her twentieth birthday here. Were they twenty too, over there?

What had her friends said to her father? Granted, the man was never there but he was still her father. She wondered how he would cope with the news that he had lost another member of his family once again? Would he throw himself further into work like he had the first time?

Dawn cursed the world. The universe. She cursed all the gods she could think of. What were they playing at?

They ripped her from her world, threw her into another with no sign after. They constantly made a mess of her.

When she was dying to return, they wouldn’t let her.

When she had finally accepted living here, grown to love Middle Earth, they said no, you can go back.

Treating her like a pawn in their chess game with no regard for her feelings. Dawn burned with fury from the injustice of it all. Why was it her?

She was loath to go along with their plans.

She was sorely tempted to turn a blind eye. It wasn’t her world. Let it be. Let Sauron do whatever he wanted.

Be that as it may, Dawn’s conscience wouldn’t let her.

Destroying the ring and defeating Sauron would mend the rift between the two worlds, Gandalf had said. That meant that monsters from Middle Earth would stop stumbling into Earth. Who’s to say that all the monsters in her world wasn’t originally from Middle Earth?

Dawn could very well stop her friends from fighting for their lives. They could finally lead normal lives as normal teenagers and students. They could stop whining about werewolves problems, or supernatural serial killers. They would just have to whine about too much homework or not having enough money to buy the things they wanted. Normal everyday things.

There were still a lot of things that was uncertain.  But only one thing would never change no matter which world she was in.

She would fulfil the mission given to her. She would help to destroy the ring. She would help to destroy Sauron. She would mend the rift.

Because Dawn was a protector.

Chapter Text

A knock sounded on her door.

It was time.

Dawn laid a hand on top of Fluffy’s head, taking comfort from the soft strands as she patted it. The direwolf yawned lazily before getting to its feet, jaws opening wide to show the sharp teeth inside.

She made her way to the door, but paused before opening it.

There were no nerves to calm. This wasn’t her first time embarking on a dangerous adventure of sorts. She still remembered the time she and her friends went on a ‘school trip’ to Mexico and nearly got killed by werewolf hunters.

She just needed a moment to reaffirm her determination. Her goal was clear. Defeat Sauron and save both Middle Earth and Earth. Whatever came after, about home, she’d think about it after.

Taking a deep breath, Dawn smoothed out her dress and hair before putting on her game face. She was ready.

Dawn opened the door.

Frodo and Gandalf were standing outside. The Grey wizard didn’t look much different than usual, still dressed in the trademark grey robes with a nonchalant expression and leisurely smoking his pipe. In contrast, Frodo was neatly dressed with his curly hair tamed and his attempt at a smile was miserable.

Dawn didn’t know what exactly was troubling Frodo but the hobbit was clearly tense and nervous. All she could do was place a hand on his shoulder in hopes of comforting him.

“Come along now.” Gandalf turned to lead the way to where the Council would take place. In this way, the three of them walked to the Council. Gandalf in front, the two following along with the canine trailing behind.

When they arrived at one of the cliffside balconies, there were chairs arranged in a semicircle, with Elrond locked in a heated discussion with some other elves in the centre. Choosing not to disturb him, Dawn claimed the last seat at one of the ends of the semicircle where the other elves of Imladris occupied. Opposite her, at the other end sat Gandalf and Frodo. She wished she could have sat by Frodo, but she was obligated to sit with the Imladris elves to represent her allegiance to Elrond.

There was another human, though, seated to her right. His clothes were of Imladris, but the round ears and lines on his face said he was undoubtedly human. Just like her.

He was eyeing the great beast now lounging beside her chair, tongue lolling out in a yawn, displaying the sharp canines inside.

“His name is Fluffy.” Dawn offered.

His gaze snapped to her, appearing embarrassed at being caught staring. “He is majestic.”

Curious, she stared at him, wondering why she had never met him before even though he must be important, seeing as how he was invited to the Council as well. Feeling her gaze on him, the man quirked a brow at her questioningly.

With a sheepish smile, Dawn introduced herself. “Dawn. Due to some circumstances, I am currently under the care of Lord Elrond.”

The man offered her a stiff smile in return. “I am known as Strider.”

“You’re the ranger who brought the hobbits to Imladris.” As he shifted to face her fully, Dawn caught sight of something around his neck peeking out from under his collar. Her smile turned sly. “Ah.”

It was only a slight bit but she would know that chain anywhere. It was the Evenstar, Arwen’s necklace. So, this must her secret lover.

Catching her gaze, Strider immediately tucked the chain further inside his shirt. His eyes hardened.

“Fear not,” Dawn stifled her laugh. “I do not know what the two of you intend, but I will not say anything.” She smiled at him gently when his expression did not change. “She has been very happy ever since you arrived, and I am happy for her.”

At that, the man finally relaxed and it was his turn to scrutinize her. “You are the healer.”

“Yes.” She said simply.

“I am glad you are recovered.” He said offhandedly, turning to face the front once more.

Dawn didn’t know if the man was awkward or just quiet but she chose to let him be. Either way, she wasn’t anyone to judge Arwen’s choice of partner. As long as the two were happy together, that was all that mattered.

As time went by, and Frodo busied himself by fiddling with his clothes, the other participants trickled in, each race claiming a section of the semicircle. Dawn sniggered each time they did a double take at the direwolf beside her.

Mankind, from Gondor, the most dominant kingdom of Men. They sat next to the elves of Imladris.

Dwarves, from Erebor, the Lonely Mountain, sat in the centre of the semicircle, opposite Elrond. Short and stocky, they were taller than the hobbits but much more broad and thick. Much more hairy too, with long braided beards and hair.

Next in the semicircle, were the elves from Mirkwood. She knew this because that blond elf from before was in that party of elves. He looked rather startled when he first saw her sitting there in the Council.

Dawn was sure he would be confused. She was the only female in the Council, and admittedly, very different from that evening in the garden. Then, she was almost a damsel in distress, tired from the poison and nostalgic from the memories. Now, she was behaving as if she were a warrior familiar with battle, determined with a fierce-looking wolf beside her.

With Gandalf and Frodo ending off the semicircle, all the chairs were finally occupied.

Elrond stood up, and his gaze swept over all of them solemnly. “Strangers from distant lands, friends of old..”

He detailed the purpose of the meeting, and Frodo, the poor hobbit who looked way out of his comfort zone, stepped forward when called to gingerly place the ring on the pedestal in front of Elrond.

All present trained their gaze on it.

Dawn too, couldn’t help but stare. Just one small ring, but the cause of so much strife.

Hushed whispers went up amongst the Council members. Each race finally able to lay their eyes on the One Ring, confirming the horrors of what Elrond had said was to come.

“So it is true,” One of the men from Gondor got to his feet. Tall, with a muscular physique obvious despite the layer of clothes. He spoke as though in a dream, eyes dazed but fixed on the ring.

Dawn immediately sat up straighter, alert. She felt Strider do the same beside her.

“In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. In the West, a pale light lingered.” Slowly, he drew closer to the pedestal. “A voice was crying: your doom is at hand, Isildur’s bane is found.”

The man stretched his hand out to the ring. Instantly, chaos descended upon the group.

Elrond jumped to his feet, his voice stern. “Boromir!”

The man stumbled back in shock.

Everyone cried out in shock and outrage as the skies darkened.

What was once clear skies were now forbidding and ominous with thunder rumbling and lightning flashing. Dawn clutched the armrest of her chair tightly with one hand, the other on the scruff of Fluffy’s neck. The direwolf was snarling and looked like it was going to pounce on anyone who came near her. Oh, she was starting to feel as if she was in over her head. In this world, dangerous adventures were a whole league of its own.

Gandalf started chanting, gripping his staff and brandishing it to the skies. It was a language Dawn had never heard before, but it was horrible. Grating to the ears, the sounds that came out of Gandalf’s mouth were harsh and brutal.

It made her head ache. A peek at the others told her they felt much the same. The elves, especially Elrond and the blond male, seemed to feel much worse, openly grimacing in pain.

Though the words Gandalf spoke were dreadful, it was effective. As quickly as the skies had darkened, the sun returned, chasing away the stormy clouds and oppressive atmosphere.

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief.

However, Elrond had a thunderous look on his face, equally horrified and angered. “Never before has words of that tongue been uttered here in Imladris!”

Gandalf didn’t back down in the face of Elrond’s fury. “I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond! For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West!”

Dawn couldn’t say she wasn’t impressed. She had been on the receiving end of that anger before with the twin brothers after one of their shenanigans, and it wasn’t pretty.

“The Ring is altogether evil.” The wizard huffed, casting a dark glare at the ring on the pedestal, before dropping back into his seat.

“No,” The Gondor man from before, Boromir, shook his head. “It is a gift!”

Dawn was stunned. Didn’t he just see what had happened? Now she knew why Elrond had seemed disillusioned and faithless when talking about the race of mankind. Whether it was arrogance or faith, this man had gone too far.

Boromir stood up yet again, passion lacing his words. “It is a gift! Why not use the Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the foes of Mordor at bay. It is the blood of my people who has kept all of your lands safe!” He paced around, staring each of them in the eye to drive home his point. His voice cracked as he beseeched the Council desperately, no doubt thinking of all his people that had fallen in duty. “Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy! Let us use it against him!”

“You cannot wield it.” Strider said firmly. “None of us can.”

Boromir spun around to face Strider, expression turning steely.

Though calm, Strider’s words had no less emotion in them than Boromir. “The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master.”

In other words, it would be a fool’s errand to attempt using the ring. Honestly, Dawn didn’t know what use the ring had. From what she had heard – the hobbits really didn’t know how to gossip quietly – the ring had turned Frodo invisible. Completely undetectable, as though his presence had been erased.

Yet, it only worked for that one person wearing it. What good would that be in a war against an army?

“And what would a ranger know of this matter?” Boromir spat condescendingly.

Dawn wanted to facepalm. How significant was Strider’s occupation in this? They were supposed to discuss how to deal with the ring. Was this why nothing usually got done in meetings? No wonder the adults in her world were all useless and had to rely on a group of high schoolers to protect the town. Instead of focusing on the main problem, the main purpose of the meeting, people had to engage in pissing contests over their ego.

Although Strider didn’t look too bothered, someone else was.

The blonde elf sprung up abruptly, eyes flashing dangerously. “This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance.”

Dawn snuck a glance at the man beside her. So, Strider was just an alias.

“Aragorn?” Boromir breathed out disbelievingly, realization dawning on him. “You.. you are Isildur’s heir?”

“And heir to the throne of Gondor.” The elf finished, almost daring Boromir to say anything more.

“Sit down, Legolas.” Aragorn spoke in elvish.

Dawn felt some appreciation for the ranger, apparently a prince in disguise. He knew when to stop an argument, and focus on what was important rather than a wounded ego.

“Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King.” The Gondor man threw a disdainful look at Aragorn.

Unlike a certain someone. Dawn clenched her fist when Boromir spoke again. He might have his reasons but it was not the time to voice such differences when more serious issues were at stake.

“Aragorn is right. The ring cannot be used.” Gandalf got the discussion back on track.

Elrond stood up, drawing their attention. His voice was decided. “We have but one choice. The ring must be destroyed.”

Praise Lord Elrond and Gandalf, Dawn cheered mentally.

One of the dwarves rose too, impatiently drawing his axe. “What are we waiting for then?”

Every one of them watched with bated breath as the dwarf approached the pedestal, raised the axe above his head and brought it down on the ring.

Dawn was a little dubious. It couldn’t be that easy. Common sense dictates that no evil lord would make a supposedly all powerful weapon that could be destroyed so easily.

As expected, the shock of the rebound threw the dwarf back a few feet where he tumbled onto his back. Only the handle of the axe was left in his hand. The blade was shattered to pieces, beyond repair. And the ring was unblemished, still laying perfectly on the pedestal.

Elrond heaved a resigned sigh. “Gimli, son of Gloin, the Ring cannot be destroyed by any craft we possess here. Only in the fires of Mount Doom, where it was made, can the Ring be unmade.”

Staring at them all, Elrond continued, knowing he would be sending one of them on what would most likely be a suicide mission. “It must be taken deep into Mordor, and thrown back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this.”

An air of hopelessness fell over them as Elrond spoke.

“One does not simply walk into Mordor.” Boromir’s tone was incredulous, like he couldn’t believe what Elrond had just asked of them. “Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not even with ten thousand men, could you do this.”

The Gondor man shook his head in despair. “It is folly.”

Dawn felt her heart sink. Was it her Elrond was referring to? When he said she had a mission, was it this? She would go, but she didn’t think she could do it alone if what Boromir said was true. This only reminded her of her friends. Such things didn’t seem so daunting if you had a group of equally plucky companions going at it together.

“Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?” Legolas stood once again, a determined fire burning in his eyes. “The Ring must be destroyed!”

“And I suppose you think you are the one to do it?!” Gimli raged, glaring ferociously at the elf.

“If we fail, what then?!” Boromir slammed his fist down on the armrest of his chair, rising to his feet as well. “What if Sauron takes back what is his?!”

Gimli was the next to jump up out of his chair, face reddening in anger to the point it was nearly the same shade as his hair. He glared at Legolas, spitting. “I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an elf!”

At once, the Mirkwood elves started to protest loudly. Even those from Imladris stood up, unable to tolerate the insult to their race.

Dawn facepalmed. This must be why war kept breaking out, she mused. Ego, pride, and pettiness.

Aragorn let out a long suffering sigh loud enough that she heard it. To her surprise, she caught him rolling his eyes at the situation. He was one of the few that were not letting their emotions control their actions.

In a blink of an eye, it was the second descent of chaos onto the Council. Elves, men and dwarves alike were all standing and yelling at each other, getting louder and louder as they each tried to get their voice heard above the others.

Even Gandalf had gotten up to join in, though he was trying to whip some sense into their thick heads. Alas, he was only fanning the fire.

Dawn buried her face in her hands, having given up. Representatives of their race, her ass. They were all bickering like racist children.

And then, she heard a small voice. “I will take it!”

Her head jerked up. It was the hobbit, walking up to the pedestal.

No one heard him, so he repeated it, raising his voice until it cut through the commotion, silencing them all. “I will take the ring to Mordor!”

Dawn stared at him, feeling dread at the thought. He was just a hobbit, the smallest and most peaceful of the races. He lived for tea parties and books, never even held a sword in his hand before!

Frodo faltered, throwing a pleading look around, uneasy at all the eyes trained on him. “Though, I do not know the way..”

Gandalf clapped a hand on his shoulder, a sort of a sad smile on his face. “I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear.”

“As will I.” Dawn’s voice rang strong and firm as she strode forward to kneel in front of the hobbit, Fluffy tagging along at her heels. She heard gasps of surprise from the Gondor men but she didn’t bother about them; outdated views of male chauvinism were below her concern. She smiled gently at Frodo to ease his nerves. “You will require a healer on this journey. May I offer my services?”

“Dawn, are you certain?” Frodo bent down to ask in a hushed whisper. Why he bothered when majority of the people present were elves and could still hear him, Dawn didn’t know, but it was endearing to see his manners. Genuine concern, she would accept and appreciate.

“Absolutely.” Fluffy lowered his head to lick at Frodo’s fingers, as if stating his willingness to protect the hobbit as well.

Frodo still seemed worried, but he nodded his agreement.

“No!” Boromir thundered, positively spitting. “She is a girl, barely a woman!”

Dawn scoffed as she got up, narrowing her eyes at him. “What say do you have in whether I go or not? My allegiance is to Lord Elrond. If he does not have any protests, I will go.”

The direwolf snarled at him, causing him to take a step back in fear.

Elrond sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “I give my consent.”

The smirk that spread across her lips was that of sweet victory. Well, she already knew that neither Elrond nor Gandalf would refuse her participation. It was her mission. She would have joined them no matter what.

On a side note, she could feel the stare of a certain blonde elf boring into her. It was with such intensity Dawn wondered if he disapproved like Boromir did. Female warriors were not rare among the elves, she knew that. It couldn’t be that unusual of a sight for him.

“If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will.” Aragorn swore solemnly, moving to stand in front of Frodo. “You have my sword.”

Dawn felt her image of Aragorn couldn’t improve further. The man seemed like the righteous sort, as expected of Arwen’s choice.

“And you have my bow.” Legolas gracefully stepped up beside Dawn, his silver-grey robes brushing against her arm. She pointedly refused to turn to him, fixing her gaze straight ahead at the rest of the Council.

“And my axe!” The dwarf Gimli hastened to add. Even in this, he was unwilling to concede to an elf. Dawn didn’t have to be a seer like Elrond to know there would be much bickering between the two of them to come. Hopefully, they wouldn’t dare to go full out in front of the Grey wizard, out of respect. She didn’t really want any of them to be caught in the crossfire.

“You carry the fates of us all, little one.” Boromir’s eyes roved over all of them, as though he was assessing their worth and capability. “If this is indeed the will of the Council, Gondor will see it done.”

Dawn’s brow furrowed. She hoped he wasn’t being condescending again, or she’d have a hard time trying to cooperate with him.

A shout came from the bushes, startling Dawn enough that she let out a small yelp, and a blonde head popped out. Sam scrambled over to latch onto Frodo’s arm, ducking under Aragorn’s arm in the process. “Mister Frodo’s not going anywhere without me!” He stared at them all, as if threatening them to try to pull him away from the other hobbit.

“No, indeed.” Elrond said dryly. “It is hardly possible to separate the two of you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not.”

Sam had the decency to look a little ashamed, but stubbornly clung to Frodo.

“We’re coming too!”

“You’ll have to tie us up and send us home in a sack if you want to stop us!”

The other two hobbits scurried over from a totally different direction than Sam, causing everyone to jolt in shock. Where were all of these hobbits coming from?

Dawn couldn’t help but snort. She had been trying to hold in her laughter ever since she saw Elrond flinch at Sam’s appearance but the bewildered look on Elrond’s face was the last straw. Hobbits were popping up everywhere, eavesdropping on a secret Council, and he had no clue at all.

Legolas’ elbow nudged her, and she glanced up to see that he was controlling his expression much better than her. The only sign of laughter on his face was the slight upturn of his lips, but his eyes were shining with mirth. It wouldn’t do to laugh in the Lord of Imladris’ face after all.

Ah well, it wasn’t like Elrond wasn’t used to her antics. Neither was it the first time she did something rude in front of him anyway.

“Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission-quest-thing-“ Pippin piped up, sticking out his chest, arms akimbo.

“Well, that rules you out, Pip.” Merry remarked.

Dawn bit her lip to stifle her laughter. What were they, Middle Earth’s Dumb and Dumber?

“So be it!” Elrond announced. “Ten companions. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!”

His words sealed the deal.

Dawn would set out as one of the members of the Fellowship, and by the end of it, she would be home.

“Great, where are we going?” Pippin turned his questioning eyes to Merry.