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**Speaking through the mind: Bold Italics.

Chapter 1:

Near the lower Misty Mountains, there was a forest located on the River Celebrant, southeast to Khazad-dûm, and it was well-known that this forest was the only place where the golden Mallorn trees grew – the forest of Lothlórien.

The forest of Lothlórien was ruled by the Lord Celeborn of Doriath, and the Lady Galadriel, daughter of Finarfin. Lothlórien was protected by the magic of the Lady Galadriel herself as she was the one who wore the Ring Nenya, helping to enrich the land and make it a magic forest into which evil could only enter with difficulty.

The Lady Galadriel was a powerful elleth and has lived from the First Age, she was a force to be reckoned with; she is one of the greatest Eldar in Middle Earth, and surpassed nearly all others in beauty, knowledge and power. Some from the race of dwarves and men however, would call her an elf-witch and seemed to fear her.

Deep inside Lórien, a tall elleth clad wholly in white with hair the color of the deepest gold and eyes the color of light blue that resembled starlight, froze suddenly in mid-pace, for she had sensed a visitor in Arda appear out of nowhere.

This elleth was the Lady Galadriel herself, and her radiant creamy white face free of any age lines, was puckered into a thoughtful frown, her starlight eyes gazing distantly into nowhere in specific.

She sensed that someone has come, someone not from this land. Yet, even though the intruder wasn't from Arda, Galadriel felt as though the person belonged.

Rushing over to a silver basin of water, Galadriel stared down into the depths of the Mirror of Galadriel and concentrated on the newcomer.

Sensations of sorrow, hurt and despair flooded into Galadriel's own emotions and with a bit more probing, Galadriel gasped loudly backing away entirely from the Mirror creating a large distance in between.

Her eyes were closed tightly, and one dainty hand was clutched over her heart as she recognized who the intruder was.

It was not possible. That line died centuries ago … long ago a very powerful line disappeared from Arda entirely adding to the threat of Sauron as it left their world completely unprotected. Yet a descendent have come, but not of their own volition.

Opening her starlight eyes, Galadriel began searching through the boundaries of her mind and a tentative smile appeared on her ageless face.

The newcomer would not be alone for long, for there seemed to be someone completely trustworthy nearby, someone she would trust with her life and more, and if Galadriel was right – which she almost always was, they would be crossing paths soon.

But he must tread with the utmost caution, as the newcomer did not have long – she could sense the person's soul was fading away, living in an empty shell, longing to reunite with the other side.

He must haste over to the newcomer's side or all would be lost, for the fate of Middle Earth depended on the newcomer.

***Lux-Vita Laelynn Jamie Potter***

A tall figure clad all in grey from the pointed hat atop his grey hair to the ends of his cloak was seen walking along the cheerful path of the Shire.

He smiled as the sound of children playing around the fields met his ears and he looked around with a fond smile. How he always loved visiting the Shire, it was the only place in all of Middle Earth that was untouched by evil.

Waving over at some of the inhabitants of the Shire, he watched in amusement as some of them threw him distrustful looks and ran into their smials, while others waved back in a friendly gesture; after all, the Wandering Wizard was very well-known in the Shire and was a good friend of the Thain's, the great Gerontius Took.

The Wandering Wizard chuckled to himself, hobbits were not overly fond of big people and mostly kept to themselves, but he knew them to be usually friendly and happy-go-lucky little people with a fondness of visitors and a cheerful bunch with a huge appetite.

Hobbits also prided themselves of having a quiet, normal and peaceful life which was something he frowned upon.

That was the reason he was here in the Shire, for he had an adventure to go to and he had the right hobbit in mind that was going to help him and the company that would be arriving that very night.

The wandering Wizard chuckled to himself as he neared his destination – the look on the hobbit's faces once they witnessed the company's arrival into the Shire would be one for the memories.

Upon arriving at Bag End, the wandering Wizard set his eyes on a young hobbit that sat by a bench nearby his smial and was smoking on a pipe. The hobbit had curls of light brown mop surrounding his features, hazel eyes, a round childish jovial face and ears that were slightly pointed – unlike the elves.

As the hobbit blew out a smoke ring, collapsing into a smoke moth, the wandering Wizard chuckled alerting his presence to the hobbit as he opened his eyes abruptly and looked around.

His face formed from bliss to surprise, "Good morning."

"What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps do you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to feel good on?" the wandering Wizard waited for his speech to settle in the young hobbits head, inwardly chuckling – he loved confusing others with this exact same speech, and not once had someone stumped him with a worthy answer.

The hobbit stared at the wandering Wizard in complete bafflement, running the words through his head, he stuttered, "All of them, I suppose," he drifted off unsurely.

The wandering Wizard gave the hobbit a disapproving look, shaking his head in disappointment; that was the worst answer he had ever been on the receiving end of. The hobbit didn't even bother to try.

"Can I help you?" the hobbit inquired as he noticed that the old man clad in grey stood above him expectantly, though he was still shaking his head at him in disappointment.

"Hmph, that remains to be seen," he answered, unhappy with the hobbit for the answer he had been on the receiving end of, "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure."

The hobbit seemed startled, "An adventure? No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures." He then added as an afterthought, "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner."

The wandering Wizard gaped at the hobbit's words, watching as he hastened to stand up, check his mailbox, and grab some mail and sort through it.

Whatever happened to the young hobbit he had the joy of seeing when he was still a fauntling, running around with wooden toy swords and yelling about adventures and how he so desperately wanted to visit the elves. The hobbit has changed much, and it just won't do; now the wandering Wizard was insistent that this hobbit would be joining them in the adventure.

The hobbit grew uncomfortable as he noticed the old man clad in grey was still standing there with an expectant look on his face.

Puffing in vexation, the hobbit rushed to get back inside his smial, but before he did, out of common courtesy that his mother had ingrained into him before she died, he threw back a quick, "Good morning," as he reached the door, ready to put this disturbing encounter behind him.

"To think that I should have lived to be good morning'd by Belladonna Took's son, as if I were selling buttons at the door," the wandering Wizard muttered in indignation, but it was loud enough for the hobbit's sensitive little ears, and he froze.

"Beg your pardon?" he inquired in bafflement, turning his head to look at the man who was staring at him in pity.

"You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" the hobbit – Bilbo looked suspicious now.

The wandering Wizard smiled, maybe once Bilbo knew who he was then he would reconsider the offer. "Well you know my name, although you don't remember that I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means … me," he ended dramatically. Oh, how he loved his riddles.

Bilbo ran the name across his head for a bit, before gasping. Recognition flashed through his features and he excitedly said, "Gandalf … not Gandalf the wandering Wizard who made such excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve." Bilbo then placed his small fingers into his suspenders, fidgeting his feet, "Ha! Hmm, I had no idea you were still in business."

Gandalf looked extremely disappointed now. The hobbit only recognized him for his fireworks? Why, he was such good friends with his grandfather Gerontius Took, as well as his mother – Belladonna did go with him on an adventure after all, before marrying Bungo Baggins, that is.

Plastering a fake smile over his face, Gandalf asked innocently, "And where else should I be?"

"Ah, hmm …" Bilbo began fidgeting as he puffed on his pipe uncomfortably for something to do, unsure of what to say without insulting Gandalf – he honestly though he had passed away.

Sighing, Gandalf said, "Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks."

Bilbo nodded hastily.

"Well that's decided. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others," Gandalf was in a hurry, he couldn't dawdle for long as he had dwarves to get back too.

Bilbo squawked, "Inform the who? What? No. no. no! Wait," shaking his head, he continued adamantly, raising his voice slightly, "We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not -. I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water," pointing somewhere far away with his hand.

Staring at Gandalf in indignation he blurted out, "Good morning!" and rushed back inside his smial, seeking refugee against the door as he closed it shut behind him.

"Yes, most amusing," Gandalf chuckled to himself as he stared at the door that had snapped shut with Bilbo Baggins inside.

Walking over to the smial, Gandalf carved a dwarvish rune for Burglar with his staff onto the door, which began glowing a bright green as Gandalf walked away from Bag End, still chuckling to himself merrily, as he found that he couldn't wait for the excitement of the evening.

Gandalf was staying at the Green Dragon while he waited for his dwarf friends to arrive at the Shire, but just as he was approaching the inn, he heard a voice speak to him in his mind, causing him to stop abruptly mid-walk.

"Mithrandir, I have something I need you to do, something of the utmost importance … something that has to do with your quest."

Ah, the Lady Galadriel, Gandalf mused. "Why am I not surprised that you know of the quest? Never mind, I should have known by now that nothing gets past you … tell me my Lady, what do you require of me?"

"I am in need for you to haste over to the large forest of the Shire, Bindbole Wood; there you would find a young girl. You must quicken your pace to her side."

Turning around the opposite direction of where he was headed, Gandalf began to take larger strides over to Bindbole Wood. He knew that the Lady Galadriel would not ask him of this if it were not important to Middle Earth.

"What am I to do once I reach her my Lady Galadriel," inquired Gandalf, as neared his destination.

"Keep her close Mithrandir, we cannot leave her unattended, and I see that she will only trust you … no one else – for now, that is."

Gandalf was baffled. The Lady Galadriel was of the only one in all of Middle Earth that had the power to surprise him anymore, he prided himself as the wandering Wizard, to know everything of everyone.

Finally, Gandalf reached the heart of Bindbole Wood, his sharp grey eyes, despite the age he appeared to be, studied the trees and the hedges, looking for a young girl.

The sound of quick breathing alerted him, drawing his attention over to a few feet to his right, and just as he was about to rush over to the young girl, Galadriel's voice resounded warningly in his head.

"She must be dealt with caution and ultimate patience, Mithrandir."

Slowing his pace, Gandalf found himself gaping slightly as he saw the young girl of whom Galadriel spoke of. He had never seen anyone like her before and she was dressed in the oddest garments … garments that did not belong in Middle Earth.

The young girl had wild ruby hair that fell below her shoulder blades; in fact her hair was such a vivid red, it reflected sharply against the sun, making her an easy target to never miss. Her form was tiny and skinny, as if she had not eaten in quite some time, and she was huddled into herself, her hands grasped tightly to both ankles, pushing her legs close to her chest in a protective stance and her face buried into her thighs.

Her clothes were another thing entirely; a gown donned her body, it was plain white and loose. Its sleeves stopped right above her elbow, and the ends of the gown reached right below the knee.

Approaching her slowly, Gandalf decided to clear his throat so as to not startle her. But it was no use, for just as Gandalf made the sound, her face whipped upwards as quickly as a whip to stare at him.

Gandalf recoiled slightly at the girl's appearance; her face was worn and tired. Her eyes were the color of emeralds, a color he had not seen in a long time, and they were widened in fear, complete fear that he himself felt her emotions. Her pale face was drawn and weather beat, and her lips were torn, probably from her biting on it until it bled.

She looked deranged … but also, she looked like a tortured soul and Gandalf finally understood Galadriel's warning.

"Yes Mithrandir. You see? Now, do you understand? Her soul is fading away … she wants to leave the world, and you must help her."

"Why, if I may ask my Lady? What is so important of this girl? She is naught but a child," Gandalf insisted as he studied the girl carefully.

"Size and age means nothing Mithrandir, you know this most of all. The most powerful beings can come in the smallest of forms."

"And is she my Lady Galadriel?" asked Gandalf urgently, he needed to know.

"You ask if she is powerful, Mithrandir? My answer is yes. She holds such power, and she could either help Middle Earth or destroy it to the ground with her death."

Gandalf dreaded the answer. Deciding to speak with the frightened girl, Gandalf took a few careful steps to her small huddled up form that was still curled into itself on the ground.

He saw her big, round eyes flash in recognition and the girl spoke in a raspy voice – he assumed it must have been a beautiful voice at one time, but now lost its luster from the lack of talking.

"Professor D-Dumbledore, wh-where am I? How did I get here?" she asked desperately, stuttering a bit as she tried to form her words through chapped lips.

"I know not of whom you speak of child, for they call me Gandalf," he answered kindly.

"N- no-not Dumbledore?" she asked her face titling in confusion. Gandalf shook his head and watched as her face turned from relief to sheer terror.

"Voldemort!" she hissed in a frightened tone, though still managing to coat her words with hatred, and Gandalf recoiled at the change as though struck.

"You portkeyed me somewhere didn't you? Yo-you're finally going to kill me!" the girl was slightly hysterical.

"My dear girl, I am not this Voldemort either … I have already informed you that my name is Gandalf, I am also known as the wandering Wizard around some areas," Gandalf knelt down in front of her, sharing eye contact so that she could see that he means her no harm.

The girl stared at him, and Gandalf felt as though she was looking deep into his soul.

"May I be so bold as to inquire for your name, child?"

"Why shou-should, why should I believe that you won't kill me? That you aren't working for him?!" the girl spoke in fear, yet Gandalf detected bravery in her – her soul may be fading, but she had the strength to defeat it, to continue living.

"My child, if I were to kill you, then I would have done so already," replied Gandalf kindly, the corner of his eyes crinkling as a smile spread across his old features.

"Lux-Vita. Lux-Vita Laelynn Jamie Potter," she whispered softly, her eyes downcast.

Gandalf closed his eyes slightly, he knew her features looked familiar to him, and now he knew why. "It is her, my Lady."

"I thought so, Mithrandir. You do know that he would want to see her once he finds out, yet he will not believe until he has proof."

"I will deal with it when the time comes."

"I ask that you trust me Lux-Vita, can you do that?" Gandalf had to inform her that she had crossed over to another world.

"O- okay," she said in a small voice, almost as though she were scared to trust anyone, and Gandalf's eyes snapped downwards to her hands as he saw her playing with a ring – a magnificent ring made from real silver, a huge diamond sat in the middle, encrusted with smaller rubies, emeralds and topaz.

Gandalf knew that the dwarves would be interested and mesmerized with the ring. He knew that they would keep on pestering her on its origin.

It was placed in her right hand, on the ring finger – it was no mere ring, it looked to be an engagement ring, and from its cut, style and gems, Gandalf could tell that it was priceless and extremely expensive, from nobility.

Therein lay another puzzle about the girl, she was in a courtship, yet her soul was fading and she looked a wreck – there were many possibilities, but Gandalf would rather he find out in his own time with her acquiescence.

"Can you tell me where you hail from?" he inquired curiously.

A small frown puckered on her forehead, "London. But my school is in Scotland … I-I was in th-the h-h-hospital wing when I felt my body drifting off and I appeared here, wh-where am I?"

London? Scotland? Gandalf had never before heard of such places.

"Hospital wing? May I ask what that is?"

"You don't know?" asked a confused Lux-Vita, "It's like a healing ward …"

Ah, yes … now he understood the reason for her strange attire.

"Lux-Vita, I need you to listen carefully to my words and to keep an open mind. You are in a place called Middle Earth, and I am compelled to believe that you have travelled between worlds," explained Gandalf calmly, not wanting to worry the girl.

"What?" gasped Lux-Vita, "But-but, I am from Earth, not Middle Earth …"

"Yes child, Middle Earth is a world quite different from the one you come from; here we have places called Rohan, Gondor, and not Scotland or London."

Gandalf heard her mutter, "Why does everything always happen to me," causing his curiosity to spike.

"Do you think someone brought me here with a purpose in mind? Or do you think I accidentally did something to come here?" asked Lux-Vita warily, almost as if she was scared of the answer.

Gandalf stared at her in confusion, the girl was taking this well, a little too well in his opinion.

"Why would you think it was something you did that brought you to Middle Earth?" asked Gandalf curiously.

"Uhmm, I'm a witch, so… m-maybe I apparated here somehow or-or something," was the answer Gandalf received, and quite honestly – it was not an answer he was expecting. A witch was unheard of.

"What sort of magic do you have?" probed Gandalf.

The girl slowly uncurled one hand from her ankles and tilted her hand forward, and quite suddenly a stick appeared in her hand … it was quite long and looked to be made of wood.

"Anything really," she whispered, "I just finished my fourth year of studying magic, I have three years remaining." She then tucked the stick back to what he guessed to be an invisible strap on her forearm.

"Study magic, whatever do you mean child?"

"Well there are many schools for learning magic in my world, I go to Hogwarts in Scotland and our system is seven years of education, but there is a school in France that offers only six years," she explained in a whisper.

Gandalf nodded, though he was still perplexed at this world she came from. Schools for learning magic. Witches and wizards in plural; in Middle Earth there were only five, including him.

"We can discuss this fascinating subject perhaps at a later date, for I am in a bind right now and I'm afraid we must make haste with our time," Gandalf said urgently, "I need you to come me with me Lux-Vita, I have gathered a company of dwarves and I am to take them on a quest and I am already tardy."

Gandalf was saddened to see that Lux-Vita had retreated back into her shell, her eyes widening in fear.

"No, it's alright Gandalf, you go ahead, I'll find my own way back to my world," but even as she said it, Gandalf could see that she looked frightened at the possibility of being left alone.

"My child I cannot leave you, so do not ask me to. I believe you are here for a reason. Tell me, what are you afraid of?" asked Gandalf.

"The dwarves," she whispered, and Gandalf had to strain his head forward so as to hear her properly.

"Have you a bad experience with dwarves before?" asked Gandalf in confusion.

"No, there are no dwarves in my world, but I am wary of men," her voice began shaking and she started fiddling with her ring again.

"I see," said Gandalf, he wondered what had traumatized her so, but he did not ask, instead he said, "The Company of dwarves I am to journey with are of the honorable sort and they are extremely respectable to females, they will treat you well, and besides I shall be with you the whole time," he promised her.

Lux-Vita stared at him with those emerald eyes, and Gandalf could see the formation of tears. Her lips began wobbling and she bit them so they could become steady, before finally nodding her head in agreement.

Gandalf smiled brightly at her. Standing up to his full height he offered her his hand, and she took it, carefully standing up. Her legs were unsteady and Gandalf had to place an arm around her shoulders in order to keep her steady.

"I'll have to buy you shoes and clothes for our journey," Gandalf informed her conversationally.

"No. no. no. no," she shook her head quickly, "I-I'm fine, I don't need anything."

"Relax dear girl, I will not force you into anything, however if you change your mind, then do let me know, as the journey is long and you might catch a cold," Gandalf's eyes pierced her somberly waiting for an answer, and Lux-Vita nodded obediently.

Once they were near the Shire, Gandalf couldn't help but ask, "If I may ask child, but why is it you trust me so?"

Lux-Vita stared at him with knowing eyes, a brief smile on her face, "You remind me of the Headmaster of my school, Albus Dumbledore … I see him as a grandfather figure and other than my godfather, he is the one I would trust with my life."

"I see," was Gandalf's reply… the Lady Galadriel must have known that, otherwise she would have sent someone else.

They made their way to the Green Dragon in an amiable silence, none of them felt the need to fill the air with conversation, and in fact, Lux-Vita seemed to be happy with not speaking. Gandalf now knew why her voice was raspy – unless spoken to, she didn't speak at all.

Her eyes would linger at everything, and Gandalf could tell that she was an extremely curious being as her eyes drank in the beauty of the Shire; he could almost see the questions barreling over in her head when she saw the hobbits – but she didn't ask, for she didn't care much for anything anymore.

Her eyes looked haunted, as though she had seen so much evil, something a young girl should not witness. Gandalf noticed that whenever a male hobbit would stare at her, Lux-Vita would begin trembling and would only stop when he squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, reminding her that he was with her.

What happened to the poor girl to make her so afraid and traumatized?

Upon reached the Green Dragon, Gandalf was welcomed by the sight of eight dwarves sitting inside the inn waiting for him. Looking at the girl beside him, he noticed that her hands began shaking, and she clutched her ring as though it would keep her safe.

"Come my child, they will not hurt you and I will be with you the whole time," said Gandalf kindly.

She gulped slightly and nodded her head, though she was still trembling, and her eyes were widened in fear.

Together they walked into the inn and towards the eight dwarves, who were all staring from Gandalf to the young girl in confusion.

A/N: This is a new story I have been planning for a while, and I finally posted up the first chapter. So what do you think, is it good?