This is the story how I, the epitome of average, became famous. Not famous like film-star famous, or pop-star famous but a genuine, if somewhat unorthodox, hero. Unbeknownst to me that within a few years of my 18th birthday I would become one of the most talked about people in an entire nation; everyone would know my name and everyone would tell my story as if it was their own. I would walk down streets and people would say my name, smile at me and bow. My story was one that was told to children as a bedtime story, and the children would tell their children, and their children's children, and so forth. My story became one of the most well known fairy stories in an entire land.

But it wasn't a fairy story, it was all real, painfully and wonderfully real. One moment I was minding my own business, walking towards Charing Cross with my sister in tow and my holdall slung over my shoulder, happily discussing the fantastic weekend in the buzzing Capital we'd just had. It had been a wonderfully warm weekend, and that day had been especially hot, but now the sun had gone and night had fallen I was beginning to regret wearing a skirt. The next thing I knew we were being mugged. It was all a whirlwind of shouting and panicking, then the mugger pulled out a knife when I refused to hand over my belongs. I'm not really sure what happened after that, I remember him advancing towards my sister, and I remember throwing myself in front of his blow. There was screaming as my sister reached out for me, but all I could hear was the sound of police sirens in the distance and my own pulse thumping in my ears. I slowly reached down to place a hand over the spewing hole in my stomach, my clothes stained bright red, and a thin line of blood trickled out my mouth. I stumbled backwards on impact and my older sibling grabbed at me but I slipped out of her grasp and went tumbling over the side of London Bridge and into the Thames.

I awoke with a grunt and a groan.

I felt like my head was about to explode. It hurt to even think, let along move. Slowly my sense begun to come together, my finger tips moving slowly across... Sand?

I blink my eyes open, squinting through harsh sunlight and groaning again as the bright rays burnt my eyes. Did I survive? Am I okay? Is this heaven? Bit boring if it is.

Slowly I rolled over, wincing at the aching in my stomach. I blinked up at the canopy of trees above me and frowned. I felt like I was waking up from an unfulfilling sleep, I felt groggy and disoriented, but slowly I came to my sense. Why was I on sand? Why was there trees?

I wanted to sit up at the realisation I was probably no longer in London. I wanted to get up and explore my surrounds. But I couldn't move, I couldn't find the energy to move. So I laid there blinking up at the leaves towering over me. I'd never seen leave of such an emerald green, the trees themselves looked like giants and had thick, dark trunks. I didn't recognise the species, not that I was a tree expert anyway.

A breeze knocked me from my stupor after a few minutes and I shivered. Am I wet?

My right hand slowly began to crawl across the sand and gently touched the cotton of my jumper and I groaned again, feeling the sodden material under my fingers. I sighed, and finally after a few minutes of mustering up the courage I sat up gingerly.

I was laying on the bank of a large lake, completely surrounded by unfamiliar, thick trees.

Wait... Lake?

I scrambled up, swaying and stumbling slightly before tripping over my holdall that had fallen around my legs, I toppled to the ground again in a crumple of nauseating pain. Weirdly enough, it was my legs which hurt the most, I could barely feel my stomach as it tingled numbly, but I could feel that a pile bile was beginning to creep up my throat. I didn't dwell on this though, my eyes were wide and searching for an opening in the lake. How on Earth did I end up in a lake?

Once again I didn't have time to dwell on my thought for there was a rustling behind me. Slowly I turned, half expecting a bear or a wolf to come jumping out. Thinking on my toes, I quickly rummaged around in my holdall for my deodorant and grabbed the pale pink lighter from the side pocket. I held them up, ready to set fire to anything that ventured near enough. But I didn't need to, for the rustling of leaves ceased and out of the greenery stepped an old man, brushing himself off as he did so.

I blink at him, and lowered my makeshift weaponry.

He smiled at me, "Ah, there you are my dear, I was getting worried."

I continued to blink at him, totally confused. Did I know this man? I looked him up and down, his attire consisted of a rather tatty looking, grey robe, a matching pointed hat and a peculiar looking wooden walking stick. "Pardon?" I forced the word out my mouth, my voice was hoarse from not talking for apparently a long time and I coughed a bit before continuing, "Do I know you?"

"No you do not." He answered cheerily, still giving me a small smile.

I stared at him, "Well then who are you? Where am I? Where's my sister? What's-"

He held up a hand calmly to silence me, "Relax child, you are not in any danger. My name is Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey, you are in Middle-Earth, and your sister is safe."

I gawked at him before, rather inelegantly, snorting at him.

"Yeah, okay." I huffed with an eye roll, I turned and started heading off in a different direction, adjusting my holdall over my shoulder as I did so. Silly old man, obviously not all there, thinks he's a wizard. I shook my head and sniggered lightly to myself.

I hadn't been walking through the forest long when I heard a crunching of twigs and leaves behind me. Assuming it was that crackpot wizard again I ignored it, but held my deodorant and lighter tightly, you know, just in case. It wasn't until I heard a growl that I stopped dead in my tracks and gulped. I was hoping that it was just my imagination, or even my stomach without realising. There was another low growl, nope, definitely not my stomach, or my imagination.

I slowly turned, only to wish I didn't.

"Oh shit."

Standing before me, about twenty metres away was a huge wolf, or was it a bear? Or was it a monster. Yes, the latter was the most appropriate. It was the single most horrifying creature I'd never seen, its long fangs were bared and stained a putrid yellow, a long line of green spittle oozing from between its teeth. Its back was hunched and its fur matted together. I could smell it from here.

It began to slowly advance towards me, growling steadily. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and wake up in bed, I wanted all this to be a dream. But it wasn't and I didn't dare move. My hands shook as I raised my deodorant. I pressed the top just as the creature made to jump forward and flicked my lighter. Instantly the spray ignited and both me and the foul beast staggered backward. I tripped over a tree root and fell with a thump on my bum, the deodorant went flying from my grasp and I stared in absolutely horror as the beast before me coward and whimpered, shaking its head from side to side. I decided to no longer stall, and took the opportunity to make a run for it while the beast howled over its burns, I grabbed my deodorant as I stumbled away.

Now, I am no runner, I can swim for miles but I can't run more than a hundred metres without dying. But this time, with a little help from sheer terror, I sprinted for what felt like hours, I was sprinting for my life. My legs burned, my lungs crippled and it felt like someone had stabbed me in the side, but I kept running. I had no idea where the hell I was going, but I stumbled around the trees nonetheless. I couldn't see very much, my usual poor eyesight was worsened by my eyes watering profusely. I couldn't think, I couldn't even contemplate how I was here or why, all I could think about was surviving this incident.

"One thing at a time…" I muttered with a sniff, reminiscing at my mother's words.

My lapse in concentration cost me my balance and I shrieked when I tripped again, doing a glorious summersault over a hidden root and tumbling head first down a steep bank.

"Bollocks!" I hissed, landing on my bum again, it was beginning to get soar and I groaned as I stood. Brushing myself off (which was rather a waste of time, I was covered head to toe in muck and mud anyway, let alone soaking wet) I looked around, trying to decipher which way to go next. Where the hell was I? How did I end up in the middle of a forest? My thoughts were pushed to the back of my mind as I decided that my priority was to get myself out of this mess, and not dwell on how I came to be in it in the first place. Safety: that was my aim.

I began walking again, a slight limp in my step from my fall. I was grumbling to myself under my breath, trying to remember anything that could be useful from watching countless episodes of Bear Grills with my ex. I was mentally slapping myself for not paying more attention. I was uncomfortable, soaking wet, pissed off, dishevelled, exhausted, famished, parched, bleeding, covered in mud and I needed a wee, could this day get any worse? Oh yes, I was in the middle of nowhere, for all I know being hunted by a monster, stalked by a loopy old man, in a place I didn't know or recognise and oh yes-

"Now it's fucking raining!" I yelled out loud, stamping my foot. I began a string of colourful curses as the heavens opened and started out on a rampage; hissing, spitting, kicking and punching anything and everything. I was now running around again, swearing at the rocks and punching the trees.

It wasn't until I had damned a bird's nest that I saw a string of smoke in the distance. I stopped instantly and inwardly prayed that was from a chimney. Please tell me my luck had turned, please, please, please!

I started off towards the smoke, slipping and sliding as I went. Seemingly I'd discovered an entire new level of completely, and utterly drenched.

I think I'm getting a rash.

As soon as a stone cabin came into view from the other side of some thinning trees I could have kissed someone, I picked up my pace and sang with joy when I saw the sign "INN" hanging over the door.

I rushed in, and to my delight no one even noticed me. It was fairly busy and the majority of the occupants were tall men, all too caught up in their own drinks and conversations to notice a mud monster wander in. I felt even smaller than usual as one crossed my path, so I puffed myself up and headed off in search for the loos. I passed several large, sturdy wooden tables, the inhabitants of said tables were all laughing and drinking merrily. I peered at them slightly when I noticed they were drinking from wooded tankards.

What is this place?

I looked around me again, it looked like a usual old pub, like a real rustic one, which is why I barely took notice as I entered, but now I had stopped to survey the situation I noticed everything and everyone looked... Medieval. The women were all in dresses with puffy sleeves and corsets around their middles. The men all wore shirts of variations of colour, dark trousers and heavy boots. It wasn't until I noticed a man at the bar with a large sword strapped to his hip that I freaked out.

I hurried away. Thankfully, I located the bathroom and dipped inside, rushing into one of the toilets. I stared in horror at the loo. It was a wooden seat with a hole in it. No flush, no cover, no nothing. I'd probably get splinters in my bum. I whimpered and reluctantly did my business.

Is this some dress up town? Like a re-enactment? If it was then the toilets were a step too far!

I grumbled as I went to wash my hands, on my way I caught sight of myself in the mirror and nearly screamed. I was covered in muck and mud, it had all matted in my hair along with leaves and twigs and smudged all over my skin. I had small cuts all over my face and hands, mixing with the mud and beginning to dry that way.

But that wasn't the worst of it. I could deal with mud, I could deal with a few cuts and bruises. But my jumper was ruined.

I know I know, priorities right? But this was an expensive jumper, I had worked long and hard for it, and it was (up until recently) beautiful and new. Well it was anyway. Once upon a time, in a land that is apparently far, far away. It's once cream cotton fabric was now a mixture of muck and blood, it was supposed to be mildly off the shoulder, but it had ripped and now only just hung on me.

And then I noticed the thick, bright red blood in the middle of my stomach, oozing through the fabric in a far more concentrated fashion than any of the other blood on my clothing. That's when I remembered.

With shaky hands I raised the hem of my jumper, and pulled up my floral fitted vest that was beneath it.

I just stared in bewilderment. Did I dream it all? I ran a hand over the smooth skin. I could have sworn that…?

My train of thought crashed when someone entered the bathroom. I spun round and shot an awkward, forced smile at the woman how sashayed in, holding onto the walls for support as she staggered into the bathroom. Clearly pissed. I wished I was pissed.

I let out a breath that I didn't realise I was holding and washed my hands. I then scrubbed at my face and neck the best I could and as quickly as I could before scurrying out the bathroom. I'll get a room for the night here, wash up, clean myself up as best I could and then move on. To where though?

I pushed that out my head as I made my way to the bar.

"One thing at a time…" I muttered, awkwardly twitching my fingers against the wooden surface as I waited to get someone's attention.

"How can I help you, little lady?"

"Erm…" I choked up at the beefy man who now stood before me, he as well over six foot, bald and more or less completely toothless, but he smiled at me kindly, "Do you have any rooms?"

"Ey." He replied, leaning to the bar to peer down at me, "I do for a pretty little thing like you."

Okay, maybe not as kind as I thought then.

I nearly gagged. "Could I have it please? How much?"

"Five gold."

I blinked at him, "Five what?" Is that bar talk for fifty quid?

"Five gold coins." He repeated.

"Like GBP?"

"Like what sorry?" He leaned further over the bar and I stumbled back slightly.

"Don't worry, lass, I've got this. Here," An arm reached past me, draped in a familiar grey sleeve, "Two rooms please, and two meats and Ales."

The man behind the bar scowled at the man unsurely as he took the coins Gandalf gave him. He shot me a look before disappearing again.

"Keep the change." Gandalf called before smiling down at me. I simply gawked up at him.

"I suppose I have some explaining to do." He chuckled, "Shall we?" He gestured further into the Inn. I hesitated for a moment, but his voice was kind and I felt like I could trust him.

Yes, because I'm so good at judging people.

I sighed, following him to a corner and sat across from him, unblinking, and still tightly clutching my holdall as if my life depended on it. It was the only thing that was familiar in this strange place and I'll be damned if I lose it.

"Who are you?" I asked as soon as we sat down, it came out rather rudely but I didn't care right now.

"I've told you, my dear. I am Gandalf." He replied casually, and pulled out a pipe. He began to fill it with tobacco.

"What is this place?"

"Middle-Earth, just shy of The Shire." He lit his pipe.

"The-the what sorry?" I leant forwards, he had said these words before, but now the initial panic has eased just a smidge I was willing to be more reasonable. I jumped slightly when two too kegs of ale were more or less dropped on the table in front of us. I mumbled a thank you.

"The Shire, my dear girl, are you hard of hearing?"

I scoffed, "No."

The old man put down his pipe and leant forward on the table, lacing his fingers together. When he next spoke his voice was no more than a whisper and I had to strain to hear him, "You may be wondering why you are here." He assessed correctly. He watched for a response, but when I didn't give him one he continued, "You are no longer in the world you know. When you fell into the water in your world I brought you here-"

"Can you take me back?" I interrupted, rather eagerly, a small bubble of hope inflated in my stomach.

His face turned sombre, and I soon followed, "No."

The bubble popped.

"Why not?" If I was someone who cried, I would be right now.

"You were stabbed, you fell into deadly waters. Even the heartiest of warriors would not have survived that?"

"I'm… Dead?"

"No." He took a sip from his tankard, "I brought you here on the brink of it, I fixed you up as best I could, but you can never go back for then you will… die." He was so painfully brash.

I slumped in my seat, I felt drained, emotionally and physically.

"Why?" I breathed, the bridge of my nose beginning to sting.

"I need your help. There is a quest in which your skills would be priceless."

I scoffed at this, suddenly a little angry, "Skills?! I'm a graphic designer. You don't even have decent toilets here so I can't imagine you have computers!"

"You have a characteristics that would be most useful." He peered at me, his voice even lower, "Do not doubt me."

I huffed, "Cryptic much?"

"You are very brave, miss Netherwood."

"I'm not brave, I'm just stupid."

At this he chuckled and gave me a knowing look, "You have an adventurous soul, you will take this in your stride. I know you will. You are much more than you realise, your heart is in the right place, you are a valuable asset to this quest." He gave me another small smile but said no more as the food arrived.

I was so hungry, but I felt sick. I stared at the food, poked it a bit and occasionally nibbled it. It was nice enough, but food was the last thing on my mind now.

I could never go home, I would never see my sister again, or my parents, or my grandma. I wanted to cry, but I didn't. I wanted to crawl into a hole, but I didn't. I did what I always did in taxing situations, I pushed in to the back of my mind, undoubtedly to fester there, but I refused to think about it. Unfortunately I was not a physical runner but I was mentally, I never confronted my fears, no matter how huge. I just dealt them; I left them; I avoided them until another time. I was one of those people that didn't think about things, I was reckless and impulsive. I didn't think things through, I never did. Thinking was complicated. I left things until I had to deal with them, I kept myself occupied so I didn't have to. Some people said I had guts, others said I would lose my guts one day. Obviously they were right.

"One thing at a time…" I muttered, popping a potato into my mouth.

Hola! So this is the first chapter of my Fili story, I hope you like! Review, favourite and follow, I love to hear your views. Much love xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx