Hello everyone! I've been messing around with this idea for a long time and I'm finally plucking up courage to post it. I'm a sucker for stories where a girl falls into Middle-Earth, and frankly, I don't think there's enough of them. I try to avoid having my characters be Mary-Sueish, that being said, this is gonna be story with a ridiculous plot (*cough* Legomance Feä-mates *cough*). I have the next chapter already written, so if I get enough of a reaction to this fic I'll post it before next Sunday. A bit more info about the story, it's a love story, more so than my other fic Thing's Worth Changing (Which you should check out if you like 'girl falls into a book plot' that one's Harry Potter). Yes, there will be lemons later on, but they have disclaimers before them if that's not your thing. I'm gonna be messing with canon, which will be taken more from movies than the books, except I will be using The Silmarillion for other things that you'll have to wait and see about *wink*. So without further ado, please enjoy this silly little story and don't forget to review letting me know what y'all think.

Warning: Cheesy but fun plot line ahead that you should not take too seriously. Oh, and I don't own anything having to do with the Lord of the Rings. Also, I suck at catching grammatical and spelling mistakes, so try not to hate me for that.

Chapter 1: To Be or Not to Be

All her life, Lia had been searching for something. Her father had told her that she was just a bit windy. She never liked staying in one place too long, she got restless easily, and she could turn from a gentle breeze into Gale Force Winds before the pitiful subject of her anger even knew what offense they'd committed. She didn't like staying still, some part of her way perpetually moving, fiddling with whatever was within reach, bouncing her leg, or swaying on the spot as if she was listening to music only she could hear. Early school had been torture for her, and she didn't understand how other could just sit still like they did. When her body was still, her mind whirled and spun like a frantic machine, raging and wondering ceaselessly, but when she moved, her mind cleared as if her muscles could channel the energy she had into something actually productive. Her father said she was like her mother, who's also always been like that paired with a formidable temper.

Lia's temper was something that, more often than not, got her into trouble. If she saw something that she didn't like, she hit first and asked questions later. This characteristic had caused three school transfers before she reached the 3rd grade, and her father could never get to the bottom of why she always felt the need to fight. Her father, however, being a logical man thought a little guiltily that it had something to do with Lia losing her mother such a young age. Lia's father thought that with only himself to raise her, perhaps it was the lack on feminine influence that caused her to have more aggression than the average girl. It was a bit odd how much she loved war movies, anything with competition or fighting, and it was almost uncanny the way she could reenact entire fight sequences from memory as she played in the back yard of their small, red-brick home. She needed to move, it was simple as that, and one day in a spark of realization, her father came up with a plan.

On Lia's 8th birthday, his gift to her was Karate lessons, and she was over the moon with excitement until he'd told her the catch. She had to take Ballet as well.

"But daaaad…" She whined, looking down at the white Karate robe, and the pink leotard laid out on the kitchen table in front of her. Her father held up his hand to silence her.

"It's a good thing to be well balanced, and it won't kill you to develop a gentler side…" He said, nearly laughing at her scrunched up face. Lia humphed petulantly, but ultimately decided that if Ballet was the price to pay in order to learn to fight as well, she'd learn to suffer through it.

After Lia started her lessons, her grades improved and she stopped getting into fights at school altogether, though her classmate still tried to give her temper a wide birth. Although Ballet felt like a chore to her most of the time, with it's soft movements and graceful music, she still found herself appreciating the way in stretched and strengthened her limbs in a different way, and she also liked that it was teaching her patience. Besides that, she was proud of it, though she wasn't fond of it…her mother had loved dancing, ballet, tap and jazz, as well as music that carried through to Lia herself, and the girl liked the idea of doing something her mother had loved.

Nothing though could compare to her love of Martial Arts. Karate moved her body, and let her mind rest for once. It gave her a code that she promised herself she'd always live by, to have humility and treat others with gentleness. Later in her life, she'd often consider the irony, that learning how to fight was what taught her how to be gentle as well. It made her heart light, and made her feel like she was working towards…Something. She didn't know what the something was, whether it was a goal, or a person, or a place, but she knew that if she worked hard, she would find it, whatever it was. At least, that was how she used to feel…

Lia hadn't felt much of anything in a while…not since her father had died last December. Three months after his heart attack, Lia couldn't do or be anything other than silent and still. No more Karate, no more laughing, no more anything. After the funeral, she walked into her room and laid down on her bed, and that was where she stayed. She ate only when forced, and bathed less. Her room had become her world, her prison and protection from the empty house that used to contain so much happiness. She hated leaving her room. When she was in it, she could pretend that her father was still there in the house she'd always known, down the hall in his office, reading and listening to Rhapsody in Blue for the billionth time or maybe Vivaldi, but whenever she left it, the spell broke and her imagination wasn't strong enough to deny that her father was gone. He never be back, and all she had left was memories and make-believe.

It gets easier…time is a balm that lets the heart heal itself…life goes on. Those stupid cliches that everyone kept saying grated on her like steel on stone, and she clung to the hate she had for the phrases themselves and the ignorant people who said them. The hate was better than grief, so she directed it towards her well meaning family and friends, towards god or the universe that had taken her father away, and hate towards her father; that he'd left her at 21 before he could teach her how to do her taxes, or change her cars oil, or see her graduate with her bachelors in Criminal Justice. Although she knew it wouldn't help her, Lia had developed a habit of counting all the things that she'd lost when her father had died, all the things she could never have ticked in her head like a morbid metronome, every single day.

Lying in her bedroom staring up at the high ceiling, she checked off the experiences that had been stolen from her. The Southern California heat was just beginning to make itself known outside as February came to a close.

"First spring…" She said to herself…Without him, she finished in her head not daring to say it aloud. The invasive sound of the doorbell jarred her to sit up in bed. Lia sighed, threw the covers off of herself and walked through the house, not bothering to change out of the blue pajamas she'd been wearing for five days straight, or even checking her lank, greasy hair or gaunt face in the mirror. She suspected it must be some relative come to check and make sure she was still alive…whatever that meant. She hadn't been answering her phone at all and couldn't remember the last time she left her house, so it was probably right that she was due a visit.

As she walked limply down the hall to the front door, she briefly considered telling whoever it was to fuck off with their concern. She didn't want or need it, but her father would never have wanted her to act that way, he'd raised her to be kinder than that, so with a bitter sigh, she unbolted the front door and swung it open.

"Hello, Miss Green? Miss Ophelia Green?"

Lia stared down at the small woman in the doorway with confusion. She looked very old, maybe in her mid-eighties. Her voice was strong if a bit raspy, but her frame looked frail beneath the pink Sunday morning church dress she wore.

"Yes…" Lia answered hesitantly, not recognizing this woman at all.

"Oh, good. Thought I was in the wrong area. All the houses look the same around here, don't they?" The woman said with a pleasant smile. "May I come in?" She asked. Lia blinked several times, wondering what the hell this woman wanted.

"I'm sorry…who are you?" Lia asked a little impatiently.

"Mrs. Weber…I was an old friend of your mothers." The woman answered, extending her wrinkled hand with a friendly smile. Lia felt a spark of recognition at that, and slowly took the old woman's papery hand and shook it briefly as she nodded.

"Mrs. Weber? The woman my mom lived with before she met my dad?" Lia asked. She vaguely remembered her father mentioning that name before, though only ever in passing. Mrs. Weber smiled brightly, and bowed her head.

"The very same." She confirmed, letting go of Lia's cold hand. Lia gave a close lipped, fake smile. With the mystery solved, Lia felt herself wilt again and had the strong urge to slam the door and crawl back into her bed. Still, though, that wouldn't be right. If Lia remembered correctly, the woman had been living in Arizona, that was a six hour drive one way, and the least Lia could do was be hospitable. The girl sighed tiredly, and stepped aside to grant the woman entrance into the dim house.

"Come in…I apologize for the mess. Can I get you something to drink? I've got water and iced tea I think." Lia said, closing the door and leading the woman the house to the sunlit kitchen.

"Thank you, Ophelia…Iced tea would be lovely." The woman said, after Lia gestured for her to have a seat at the kitchen table. Lia looked at the woman sharply.

"Please don't call me that, I go by Lia…" The girl replied grumpily. Mrs. Weber raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's quite a pretty name, Shakespearian isn't it?" The old woman replied. Lia felt her nose twitch in irritation.

"Yep, named after the crazy girl that drowned herself because she couldn't get Hamlet to make a decision…What a fantastic namesake." She mumbled sarcastically as she poured some sweet tea into a tall glass of ice.

"I think, perhaps, that Ophelia just felt things a little more profoundly than most…not a bad thing you know." Mrs. Weber said softly. Lia placed the glass of tea in from of the old woman, and sat down in the chair next to her, the girl looking tired and blank faced. Hearing Mrs. Weber say that only hurt, because her father had always said something similar.

"So…why are you here?" Lia asked bluntly, wanting to get this visit over and done with.

"I came her for two reasons…the first is to offer my deepest apologies for your loss, you father was a wonderful person, and the world is a poorer place without him." Mrs. Weber said, reaching out to Lia's hand resting on the tabletop. Lia pulled her hand back abruptly, not wanting to be touched as she felt a familiar cold shell of ice descend over her heart and lungs, making it painful to breath. Lia glanced up at the woman, she didn't need to be told that, she already knew the world was darker without her father in it. Mrs. Weber gave her a tender look, a look of pity that Lia hated seeing directed at her. Lia swallowed thickly.

"…And the other reason?" She said, angry that her voice sounded choked. Mrs. Weber nodded.

"Right, yes…" The old woman said as if remembering something. She took the small pink purse off of her arm and set it on the kitchen table. "I have a gift for you." She said, as she began rummaging through the bag. Lia tried her best to not look annoyed but she knew she wasn't succeeding and she couldn't really find the will to care. Lia watched as the woman searched, taking a myriad of things out of the cluttered bag, pill bottles, coins and scrapes of paper to lay them on the table.

"Ah ha!" The old woman exclaimed abruptly, making Lia jump in her seat. Mrs. Weber considered the shiny thing in her hand for a moment with a smile on her face, before she placed it on the table in front of Lia. Despite herself, Lia felt something she hadn't felt in a while…curiosity. Lia knit her brows together and leaned over to better inspect the thing. It seemed to be a hair pin made of a glimmering white gold with a green gem cut to resemble a leaf with silver veins running through it. It looked familiar, but Lia couldn't place where she'd seen something similar.

"You have seen it before…although you saw it as a brooch." Mrs. Weber said, reading Lia's expression. The girl nodded as she remember then.

"Oh yeah, so is this like a Lord of the Rings collectable or something?" Lia asked, her tone gentler than it had been a moment ago. "I used to watch that movie as a kid…wow, I haven't thought about that in ages." Lia said, almost fondly. She'd always loved any story with battles, or a quest…but she also remember loving something else about that movie that she couldn't remember now. Something vague about the color green she though before shaking her head to dislodge the memory. It was so long ago, she hardly even remembered the story now.

"It's a little more precious than a collectable." Mrs. Weber said pointedly with a knowing smile. Lia's head shot up at that word, and for the first time in nearly three months, she felt a bubble of laughter catch in her throat.

"I loved that movie, but god, Gollum used to scare me so bad. I would shove my face into my dad's arm whenever…"

The small smile dissolved away from Lia's face, and the shell of ice came around her heart and lungs once again. She'd almost been able to forget for a second, and she felt a crushing guilt at having smiled. Her vision swam and blurred with tears and before she could even attempt to stop them, she felt them fall, hot on her cold cheeks. She stood up sharply, making the chair legs screech against the kitchen floor, and walked away from the table towards the sink, not wanting this complete stranger see her cry.

"You don't need to be ashamed of your tears, Lia. I've seen many shed in my life, and for much shallower reasons than this." The old woman said softly, and Lia wondered why she didn't feel angry at that coddling statement.

"I just…everything reminds me of him, and I can't leave. I'm stuck here, just completely frozen in this house. I don't want this…this fucking immobility, everything her makes me miss him, but I can't leave." Lia said as if the words were being wrenched from her against her will. She was entirely unable to stop her tears or her words. It was more than she'd ever spoken on the subject, and she didn't know why this old woman was the one who got to hear it. Lia felt the strong desire to hit something flare up in her chest, but with nothing within reach, she just balled her hands into fists until she felt her joints crack in protest. Lia stared out the kitchen window into the back yard, and wondered if she would ever feel happy again…she doubted it. The old woman grunted as she stood up from her chair, and Lia heard the click of her heals as she came to stand beside her. Lia felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and didn't bother to shrug it away. She looked down at the small, frail women with her eyes red and her face blank. She was almost taken aback at the intensity on the old woman's face.

"Do you truly mean that, Lia? Think hard…" Mrs. Weber said. Lia's eyes turned fiery.

"I would never say something I didn't mean." Lia replied sharply, not liking this woman questioning her sincerity.

"If you truly mean what you say…you can leave here, but if you do…there will be no coming back." Mrs. Weber said, her voice heavy and dark. Lia shook her head, not understanding what the woman meant.

"What's the big mystery? I don't want to be here, and I told you that I can't just leave. I'm trapped, how am I supposed to leave when my whole life is here…where would I even go?" The girl asked bitterly. Lia was surprised and a little offended at hearing the woman chuckle.

"You know, there was this other girl I helped recently…but that poor thing was far less connected to reality, more willing to understand that sometimes the world is just chaos, she had a knack for laughing at it though…" Mrs. Weber said with a distant twinkle in her eye. "If she would've asked me where she was going, I would've told her, but you?" She said with a chuckle. "You'd never believe me. You're the kind that has to see something to believe it." Mrs. Weber said with a knowing smile. "So…I'll just say this. First, clean yourself up, take a shower, and put on some hiking clothes. After that, I recommend packing a bag with some non-perishables, a first aid kit, a warm change of clothes, a sleeping bag and some very, very good walking shoes. Now, I'll get out of your hair and be back in an hour." The woman said crisply, patting Lia on the shoulder before turning away to leave. Lia looked at the crazy woman walking away from her.

"So, you wanna take me on a camping trip?" Lia asked, feeling very confused.

"Oh, heavens, no. I'm not going anywhere, you're going alone." Mrs. Weber said with a chuckle, turning back around to face Lia. Lia surveyed the woman, weighing her options, and despite her sadness, the thought of getting away was certainly appealing. What did she really stand to lose? Anyplace was better than where she was.

"Let's hold on a second, and say, hypothetically, that I go do this Into the Wild, soul searching thing…what's in it for you? Why are you doing this? and what do you mean there's no coming back?" Lia asked, shrewdly eyeing Mrs. Weber. To Lia's surprise the old woman smiled kindly.

"It's my calling, dear, everyone has one…and mine is to help other people find theirs. Some people are restless in this world, and they just need a kick in the pants to go where they're meant to be…and to answer you last question…well, you won't want to come back." The woman said with a shrug. Everything this woman said was like a riddle wrapped in a proverb written in greek, and Lia wasn't very happy with that. She liked things to be clear and honest, everything else was a waste of time. "Think it over, dear. I'll show myself out, and be back in a couple hours." Mrs. Weber said, leaving Lia before the girl could gather herself to ask any more questions. Lia heard the woman's shoes click down the hall and finally heard the door open and close. She was alone again, but that wasn't what she really wanted…with only a short conversation, that old woman had switched something back on in Lia's brain, something the girl had thought had died along with her father.

Lia thought that, perhaps, staying here in this house that she had loved was only hurting her, taking away the last bits of happiness she hoped could still be revived in her heart. No sooner had that thought breached her mind than she felt something dark and cold cringe inside of her. Wouldn't that be like running away from her father? Even though he was dead, leaving this house would be like betraying him. It was a betrayal to remove herself from her grief, it would almost be like removing the part of her heart that had loved him. Lia stomped her foot on the floor, gripping her scalp painfully as she struggled with the sadness in her heart. What had she turned into? A pathetic little girl who listened to a lying inner voice? No, her father had raised her better than that. He never would have wanted her to live the way she was.

"It's not betrayal…it's goodbye." She whispered to herself. Lia felt her eyes sting as she felt her heart tear between two choices. She didn't want to say goodbye, but she knew she needed to. She had to try, at least try to live a happy life, and although the dark part of her heart tried to tell her she was wrong, she knew that this was how she could best honor her father.

At that thought, Lia felt something stir in her heavy heart, lightening it with a feeling that almost seemed foreign. It was a heat, the same one she'd felt before a Karate tournament, a restlessness that made her body itch to move…because she'd always known that every step she took was leading her towards…something. That something had a long path of stones leading toward it, and for the first time in a long time, she wanted to take the next step. Her body thrummed with the need to move, as if it was waking up and realizing that it had been still for far too long. A small smile showed in her eyes for a moment, though her lips remained straight. She nodded to herself and stomped to the shower.

Lia stepped out of the shower, wrapped a fluffy white towel around her body, and wiped down the foggy bathroom mirror with her hand. It'd been such a long time since she dared to look at herself in the mirror. Her skin, which had always been tanned by the California sun, was much paler than she remembered. Her eyes were the same color her mother's had been, a deep, golden amber that flickered like flames in her large, round sockets. Her face, she'd always thought, was striking more than beautiful. Angular and sharp, with high hollowed cheek bones, wide, full lips and a jaw that was too square to be considered feminine. She never wore makeup, she didn't like the way it made her face feel heavy and the way it made her feel like she needed to walk slower lest she dislodge whatever products were on her face. She wasn't too fond of her face, she thought it looked a bit to harsh, but there were two things she did like about her appearance. She liked her body, that it was strong and lean, but with subtle curves that separated her from being mistaken for a boy, and she loved her hair. Her hair was the one thing about her appearance that she was vain about, and she'd taken good care of it religiously since she was a child. It was a very fair, strawberry blonde that almost looked pinkish in the right lighting, and it fell to her waist in soft waves without her having to do anything other than let it dry.

Being in Karate at an early age, she'd considered cutting it all off on more than one occasion to make her life easier, but in the end she thought her hair was just too pretty to be cut more than an inch at a time. She'd inherited most of her appearance from her father, and the only thing that resembled her mother was her amber eyes. His hair had been the same as hers, but perhaps a little more golden, but it was naturally wavy like hers and he'd always kept it long as well, nearly to his shoulders. Woman had always flocked around him, but he'd never remarried or even dated. His heart belonged to her mother, and no one had ever had a snowballs chance in hell of acquiring it. Lia wouldn't lie and say she disliked that. Her father had given her his complete and undivided attention her whole life, she'd been the apple of his eye and he'd often point out that Lia was the only reason he hadn't just faded away after her mother died. Still, Lia thought it was a bit strange that he'd never even though about remarriage. She could understand it though, for the most part. She imagined she'd feel similarly if something similar were to happen to her. She chuckled humorlessly at herself. Lia never did anything by halves…including grief.

Lia took stock of her malnourished body and sighed at herself. At 5"7 she was a little taller than average, and always had been as well as lean. She was carful about what she put into her body, food was fuel in her mind and she only ate what made it work the best. She wasn't picky at all if the food was healthy. Her body was nowhere near the shape it used to be, she was too thin now, almost skeletal and definitely sickly looking. It would be a while before she got back to her normal appearance. She sighed again, she just needed to take it one step at a time. With the towel still wrapped around her body, she went back to her pitch black room and switched on the light.

Her room was a mess, though normally she liked keeping things neat, lately she hadn't really cared. She had two shelves mounted on either side of the large window opposite her door that chronicled her Martial Arts career with trophies and ribbons and even a few awards from ballet recitals that she'd gotten when she was younger. There was also a large oak vanity that had belonged to her mother, a matching dresser and a double bed set comfortably beneath the window. It was a nice room, pleasant and calming as a bedroom should be, with pale grayish-blue walls and soft white carpet. She'd always thought of it as a sanctuary, but stepping back into after showering, it felt more like she was walking back inside a prison cell. Lia shook her head to gather herself, and tried to shove the dark thoughts in her head away. She just had to get clothes and the large camping backpack from her closet and then she could leave this room, hopefully for a long time.

Mrs. Weber had told her to dress warm, but Lia's body temperature ran a little hotter than most and she didn't mind cold weather in the slightest. Still, it would be wise to take the woman's word. Lia sifted through her dresser and found a black thermal, and a pair of thick black leggings, and put them on over a pink sports bra and matching boyshorts. Strictly speaking she probably could've forgone the bra, having never been big chested, but she figured in the end that another layer wouldn't hurt. She checked her reflection in the mirror quickly and sneered at what she saw. Her clothes were too loose, her bones too prominent and her muscles practically shrunken. She huffed, it would take a lot of work to get her body to a healthy state again. She turned away, trying to put those thought out of her head as she quickly french braided her wet hair.

She opened her closet door and felt the familiar shell of ice resurface over her heart at seeing the old but well cared for camping pack resting on the floor inside. She couldn't even begin to count how many times she'd gone camping with her father, at least two weekends every month and non-stop during summer and winter breaks as a child. She'd practically slept in a tent more times than in her own house.

Her father had loved Thoreau and hated the city with a visceral passion, he said it had a way of turning people into either zombies or scavenging animals. Lia couldn't be sure if that sentiment was naturally her own, or if her father had ingrained that philosophy in her, but she felt the same way about city life. Smog and concrete and too many people in one area, she hated it. She hated not knowing where her food came from, or how the meat she ate had been treated before it was slaughtered. She preferred getting her own food, hunting, foraging or growing it herself…but that just wasn't possible where she lived. That's one of the many reasons she'd loved camping so much. She felt best when she was outside, in a forrest, near mountains or beside rivers. She loved being surrounded by growing things, where the stars weren't dimmed by light pollution and things seemed to have a different pace. Aside from Martial Arts, nature was the only other thing that cleared Lia's mind, and she found that it was the only place she could be still and untroubled. She almost smiled to herself, thinking that she might soon be back someplace like that.

She carefully laid out all the things she'd need on the floor in her living room, two changes of clothes, a first aid kit, enough trail mix and protein bars for a week, a large self filtering water bottle, and other camping sundries like small eating and cook utensils and flint. She filled up her pack, ticking off the checklist in her head until the pack was full. She tied her zero degree sleeping bag to the bottom and stood up. She looked down at the pack thoughtfully, knowing she was forgetting something. She snapped her fingers as she remembered, jogged into the garage, and saw her crossbow mounted on the wall. Her father had preferred a rifle when hunting, but Lia had never liked it, so on her thirteenth birthday, her father had gotten her the dark grey crossbow. It had been difficult to load and carry at first, due to the weight and tension of the string, but she'd been diligent about practicing and soon got the hang of it. She only used it to hunt small game like rabbits and birds when she went camping, but her father had told her it could also be used if she came across something more dangerous in the woods, she'd never had to use it in self-defense though.

She unhooked it from the mount and held it for a moment as if trying to remember how it felt in her hands. It made her sad, but it was a new kind of sadness that she hadn't yet felt. It was deeper, falling into her heart like a heavy stone. Everything she did now was a first, the first time doing all of this alone, without her father. That thought made her eyes sting. She reached under the neckline of her shirt and pulled out the chain with her mother's wedding ring…that now held her father's. She stroked the bands, and tried to swallow dow her tears to no affect. Her mother's was platinum with an impressive teardrop diamond solitary, and her father's was matching except instead of a single large diamond, two small ones were inlaid into the band side by side. For the first time since her father's death, Lia felt a little comfort in holding the two rings, they were like little pieces of them left behind just for her.

She stuffed the chain back into the neckline of her black thermal and shouldered the crossbow before walking into the house to look for a box of tissues to blow her nose. The moment she walked into the house, however, she heard the doorbell ring. She checked the microwave clock and noted that it was a little after three in the afternoon, marveling slightly at how time had seemed to pass more quickly now that she had a goal in mind. She roughly wiped her nose on the long sleeve of her shirt, and walked purposefully to the front door. She opened it, this time with a small smile on her face.

"Hello, Lia…my but you look different." Mrs. Weber said. "Bit like an assassin, if you don't mind me saying." She said a little teasingly. Lia looked down at herself, all in black with her crossbow on her shoulder and her long pale hair in a french braid.

"Yeah…guess so." Lia nodded seriously, thinking perhaps she should change into something that looked a little less threatening. Mrs. Weber laughed as Lia moved aside to let her in.

"I meant it in a good way, you'll need that look where you're going." The woman replied with a wry smile.

"Huh?" Lia uttered, narrowing her eyes as she caught the weird phrasing.

"I'll make this brief, seeing as you seem to be shuffling like a horse at a racetrack." Mrs. Weber said, ignoring Lia's confusion with a small smile as she walked into the kitchen where Lia's things were set to go at the dinner table. "There are three things you need to know…first, always keep one of your parents rings on you at. all. times. No exception." She said very intensely, causing Lia to furrow her brows and think perhaps this woman was crazier than Lia'd given her credit for…What was she saying? How did she even know about her parents rings, and why was that important? Lia wondered, but kept her mouth firmly shut and waited. Mrs. Weber's countenance changed abruptly and she looked up at the girl with a mischievous smile. "Second, the poor thing's been waiting a long time for you, so you be sweet to him." She said with a playful sternness wagging her finger at the girl. Lia was beginning to reconsider everything, this woman was definitely crazy. "Lastly, don't be too hard on the other one either, he's much like the forrest he was born in…wild but giving…he's been waiting for you too…" Mrs. Weber laughed brightly. "…though in a much different capacity." She said knowingly.

"What are…" Lia started before Mrs. Weber held up her hand for the girl's silence. Something in the hold woman's movements spoke of an authority Lia had been conditioned to respond to from her martial arts training. It was ingrained in her to shut up when a higher rank was speaking.

"You'll find out soon enough, Lia…just relax for a few minutes." The old woman said, a little impatiently. Lia's amber eyes flashed, and she bit her tongue to keep from answering the woman back. This woman was speaking in riddles and she just expected Lia to accept it? It was infuriating. Mrs. Weber raised her eyebrows at Lia, perhaps reading the fire in her eyes, then smiled wryly. "That's a scary look there, girl…but someone taught you discipline and mastery of yourself." Mrs. Weber said appreciatively, followed by an honestly bright laugh. "Lord, that's gonna go down the drain in no time flat…this'll be fun." The old woman said happily. Lia clenched her fist and reminded herself that punching an old woman wasn't ethical. Mrs. Weber patted Lia on the shoulder. "It's alright, dear, loosen up a bit, eh?" She said calmly. Lia's nose twitched in agitation. Mrs. Weber looked her up and down and made clicking noise with her tongue thoughtfully. "You'll do fine, now pick up your pack, chop chop." Mrs. Weber said briskly, gesturing to Lia's pack.

Something was off, Lia was sure of it, and her instinct said run. This woman was nothing but trouble, but for some strange reason she Lia also found herself curious to the point where she couldn't resist the old woman's orders. Lia paused.

"To be or not to be…That is the question." She muttered to herself…No! She was done wondering what to do, she wasn't a Hamlet, she didn't sit and ponder, she took action for better or worse, she sighed. "Just like my stupid namesake…" She finished her thought aloud. Ophelia in Hamlet had made a call, she'd decided not to be, but Lia would not be that weak. "Fine!" She growled, roughly picking up her pack and hoisting it onto her shoulder. "I don't know what the hell this is, but I'm in…I'm done being a goddamn Hamlet!" She insisted, striding over to stand in front of the woman. Besides, how bad could it possibly be? It was just a camping trip to clear her head and try to heal herself.

"Do I know how to pick 'em?" Mrs. Weber asked herself rhetorically with self satisfaction. "Ok, dear last thing and then you'll be on your merry way…Don't be angry with your parents when you find out, they did it for you." The old woman said kindly. At those word Lia met her limit.

"I'm gonna be honest, ma'am, I don't understand what you're talking about and it's starting to make me feel like you're trying to drag me down to you're level of crazy." Lia said tonelessly. "What could my parents have done that would make me angry, and why does that matter right now?" Lia asked imploringly, as if she could just plead with the woman to actually make sense. Mrs. Weber only offered her a soft smile.

"Truth is given in it's own time, not when we demand it to reveal itself." The old woman replied sagely. Lia was about to argue, when she was struck again with that authoritative look from Mrs. Weber. "Pick up the pin, Lia… the one I gave you." She said, pointing to the table where the pin lay, unmoved. Lia went to get it but pulled her hand back at the last moment and turned to look at Mrs. Weber.

"First tell me why." Lia said, trying to keep her tone respectful.

"Are you frightened of it?" The woman asked. Lia's amber eyes flashed again, and she felt irritation bubble in her chest.

"I'm not afraid…I'm curious." Lia said, trying now to sound calm. Mrs. Weber chuckled, and Lia was beginning to think that woman's laugh was the most annoying one in all of creation.

"Is that so? Why don't you prove it." Mrs. Weber goaded. Lia had never been the sort of person to back down from a dare, and it had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion…This time was no different. Even as she acknowledged her own stupidity, she could nothing to combat it.

"If that's not a metaphor for the human condition…" she muttered as she fixed her face into a firm line, and strutted over to the table. Anywhere, anything was better than what she had and where she was, so without really contemplating her own actions, she reached her hand out and picked up the pin.