First LOTR story im doing, and ive only started reading the books after I've watched the movies my whole life. The initial idea was sparked by a comic I read called Dreamless and its what started this whole need to write a fanfic. The intial Idea is mine, but the idea of the whole dream crap thing was brought on by the comic that is listed above.
this will pertain more so to the movies but with a slight twist being that it takes place after the ring. I only own three characters which are Ophelia, Lara and Gelmir. The plot and idea are mine. As I said, some things may be a little different. Elivish is written in bold, but some elvish words will be dropped. A key will be placed at the bottom.

summary: Having always had dreams of a faraway realm for as long as she could remember. Ophelia had just assumed that they were artistic musings and took to painting pictures of the world, the most common one being an elven male whom she claimed she "felt like he was there my whole life." While walking between classes with her friend Lara, both girls are stopped by an ominous presence that quickly grabs hold of Lara whispering fear induction incantations, Ophelia tackles the male; and both girls are pulled into a conspiracy that cant end well for anyone.

Rating: m for violence, blood/gore, suggestive themes, language, and sexual content

Enjoy :)

Prologue

"I think there's something wrong with her…" my mother was always convinced that I had an issue regarding my development being that I never spoke a word until I had turned two. Though I could walk and identify things with grunts and motions; it did nothing to lessen the burden that had taken place among my mother's shoulders. Several days after I'd turn two, my mother had only wanted to pick me up when I'd spoken two words "Gi Suilon!: which I assume mean "I greet you!" I say assume because I'm more than positive that I made up the language at a young age to substitute English in my need to communicate.

Having waited so long for me to speak, my other was overcome with grief that I wasn't able to speak in English and instead had taken to gibberish when It came to childlike conversations and identifying objects. My Father was an Army man, and we constantly moved around; unable to see my mother overridden with such grief I placed in counseling for autistic children to help my development. The earliest memory of speaking this strange language I have is the time I was running around in the backyard and calling out "Gwilwileth" as I chased after a butterfly. My father had calmly picked me up before telling me I had to stop speaking in my made up language because I was upsetting my mother.

It was a shock to all but me when she left us for another man. I knew it was bound to happen considering my father had supposedly sired a delusional child. Though I was not upset, a voice within my head constantly told me "to seek joy and laughter, and that my heart would weep until I see you again" or "savo 'lass a lalaith, Guren niniath n'il lu n'I a-govenitham"

Currently though, I am at nineteen years of age and a student of literature as well as art. Though I do not speak in my made up language, it has been a habit to drop it at times when referring to certain things. My dreams are plagued with places of ethereal beauty and people of the most elegant of looks. And so whenever I find time between classes, I paint them. Hundreds upon hundreds of paintings rest within the attic where I paint, each of a different realm, and more often than not there rests a picture of a male with the bluest of eyes, and lightest of hair. Not only him though, I find myself always painting a particular picture from my dreams of a man shrouded in shadows and another of a fairly short man holding a golden ring.

My muse seems to never rest, and whenever I find time to sleep I am only plagued with these visions as if I see them through someone else's eyes; their name I don't know, but their world I know just as much as they do. Because I'm certain, whoever this is, or even if it's just my subconscious playing games with me; that maybe this realm does exist, and if it's in my mind that's fine too. Because if I can just figure out where these ideas are coming from, maybe I can stop them.

Because this is my reality, my life, and my mind. No one will infringe upon that.

Chapter 1: because jelly and red paint look really close

Ophelia had spent the last half hour rinsing and brushing her mouth to rid her pallet of the horrible taste of paint. Because, only she would spread jam on a plate to eat off her fingers as she was painting; and only she would place it next to the small bowl of red paint.

The snow had rendered her classes canceled for the evening, and her easel ready for use. The night before was filled with dreams of a forest alight with flames, and several pointy-eared beings desperately hoping to put it out with water. And of course being that she couldn't turn off the dreams to actually sleep, she continued to paint them in hopes of getting them out of her head.

The sound of snoring lightly filtered through the house, and Ophelia could do naught but chuckle at the exhausted sound of her father as he most likely napped within the library. Sighing, she undid the ties about her waist that kept the apron in place and set about cleaning the mess she had about the room; because if she didn't clean it now, it was never going to get clean.

A quick sweep of the room had her placing all the paints back on their respective shelves, and all painting items with a large bowl of hot water. Dusting off her hands, Ophelia rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater down once more and brushed off her jeans before sliding into her boots. Reaching within her jean pocket for her phone, she quickly dialed the second out of three numbers in her phonebook and placed it to her ear as she skipped down the stairs. The moment her foot touched down on the hard floor she noticed something hurdling at her, and quickly dropping to the floor she kicked her leg out to feel it connect with something solid. Eyes shut tight and hands balled into fists, she opened a single eye to see she was face to face with her father. Pipe hanging from his mouth, and beard matted to his face with she assumed was drool, Ophelia pinned her father with an annoyed look.

"Really?" She murmured in an exasperated manner. Blowing a puff of smoke into his child's face, Thomas Mc'Auliffe spoke, in a very bored, but Irish accent ridden voice :

"Yer rusteh. Had it not been me, you'd da gotten a black eye."

"Yea, because its every day someone is going to try and punch me in the eye." Having only just dropped his daughter's leg, Thomas held the pipe away from his mouth before speaking in an annoyed tone.

"Don't get mouthy with me. Regardless, where do you think you're going?"

"I'm taking Lara to the movies for her birthday."

"Its snowing."

"Just because schools closed, doesn't mean the theater is.." She said in a matter of fact tone as she straightened the cuff on her boot. Making her way to the front door, Ophelia grabbed a random jacket and slid her arms into the sleeves before turning to look at her father.

"'l'll be home by ten, alright? I'll call you as soon as I get there, and when the movie is over. Fair?"

"Alright, have fun dear." Smiling, Ophelia half-waved to her father before opening the door and greeting the cold air head on.

With a huff, she shoved her hands into the pocket of her coat feeling around to be sure her wallet was within its confines. The sound of a horn honking caused her to jump slightly before rushing toward the sleek black 67 impala that rested at the end of her driveway.

Safe and warm within the confines of the vehicle, Ophelia waved the money before her friends face.

"See, and you thought I wasn't going to treat you on your birthday!"

"God I love you! We get to see The Desolation of Smaug its first night in theaters and you scored! Jesus freaking Christ are you epic!"

"only because the manager is in my British literature class and he owed me big time. Regardless, lets go. Parking is going to be a pain to find.."

"Thanks by the way.."

"No Problem Lara." The girl in mention shot her friend a meaningful smile before starting the car and blowing a strand of dirty blonde hair from her eyes. Pressing on the gas, she pulled out of the driveway all the while a bright smile plastered on her features.

The drive to the theater was ridden with traffic, but was calm no less. The car was filled with the cliché music in which both manage to sing along too. Lara was first out of the car and was bouncing in her place; her hair in a messy bun atop her head; her blue eyes alight with excitement.

"come on slytherin!" Huffing, Ophelia got out of the passenger side of the car, pulling her jacket tighter around her.

"I wear green…for one day.."

"Oh come on! You act like harry potter was the worst thing that happened to you!"

"I was royally obsessed!"

"Whatever, let's just get in!" Lana immediately sped ahead toward the movie theater that rested across the street. Sighing at her friends antics, Ophelia reached into her pocket to grab her phone, quickly calling her father to tell him they'd made it to the theater safely. The moment a screech filled the air though, had Ophelia and her father both pausing. Dropping her phone in a rush, Ophelia broke out in a run, shedding her jacket as she made her way toward the screaming.

"LARA?! LARA WHERE ARE YOU!?" A muffled yelp was her only indication to sharply turn down a dimly lit alley. The sound of murmuring met her ear, just as Lara released another screech and continued to claw at the hooded male that had a tight grip at her waist. Balling her hands into fists, Ophelia mouthed "duck" to her friend before launching over the girl to tackle the male shoulder first to the ground and hurriedly start to deliver punches to his face.

Lara took it upon herself to beat the body of the male with her boot all the while telling him to "Eat prada bitch!" Both girls however didn't notice the ominous hum that resonated throughout the alley, but did notice the lights above them shattering before darkness engulfed them both.

"They seem extremely oddly dressed for females."

"Are we positive that we'd gained the right female?"

"The dark haired one seems to be who we are looking for…"

Lara awoke to the mumblings of people in a language she'd never heard before. Careful to still her body, she slightly opened her eyes only gasp and screech at the sight before her. Three males stood above her and Ophelia; their skin pale, hair like moonlight, and eyes of the brightest of yellows. Her screech however roused Ophelia awake who immediately went into fight mode, kicking her leg out to knock the one before her onto the ground. Immediately jumping to pin him to the ground, she was pulled off the male by the other two.

"men are animalistic are they not?"

"Excuse me!?" Ophelia quickly grated out, shifting slightly to shoot the man on the ground a harsh glare.

"We're animalistic and you happened to be the ones to take us!"

"How is it you can understand us!"

"Makes no difference, release us!" Ophelia quickly shouted back. Lara continued to look between Ophelia and the man as they spoke in hurried voices and irritated tones. The one she'd previously knocked to the floor had gracefully risen before harshly back-handing Ophelia.

"Know your place woman."

Roughly tossed onto the stone ground, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed within the confines of the room they were in, which was bare.

"What the fuck was that!?" Ophelia ground out as she gently rubbed the cheek that was only previously struck.

"I can't believe this…" Lara uttered out softly, so softly in fact that Ophelia had barely even taken note of her speaking; had it not been for Lara smacking her forehead into the palm of her hand, Ophelia would've most likely ignored her friend.

"..That we were kidnapped by some weird cosplayers? I swear your fandom goes too far."

"OH Really!? This is coming from the girl who went full on star-trek!"

"IT WAS ONE TIME!"

"Middle earth."

"….What? no I was a female spock."

"No, that's where we are." Ophelia ceased her cheek rubbing to look at her friend in a confused manner. Lara however, continued to look at the door that was their only way out.

"You're in shock. Its normal to do something like this in hopes of lessening the impact on your psyche but rea-"

"Ophelia listen to me, we are in middle earth. As in Lord of the rings and hobbit middle earth. J.R.R Tolkien middle earth. With elves and dwarves, and freaking shit, those were dark elves, oh my god…YOU SPOKE ELVISH! Well, sindarin to be exact, but god…how'd this happen!?"

"WHOA, calm the fuck down." Ophelia quickly rushed out, her hands placed at Lara's cheeks as in hopes to calm the female down.

"We aren't anywhere but a dark room with some sick freaks, wwho're going to do god knows what to us...so gimmie your cellphone." Nodding, Lara reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone.

"It won't turn on."

"What do you mean it won't turn on? Hit the button."

"Ophelia, I am. It won't turn on." Lara said in a dejected manner just before dropping her phone to the ground.