Okay. Hi there, before you carry on. This story is based of both the book and the movie. Because I love them both.

Disclaimer: All characters and the original story belong to J.R.R Tolkien and all bits of the movie belongs to the respective directors and producers.

The OC is mine and is not based of any other character, fictional, fanfictional or otherwise.Now that that's out the way please enjoy the story and feel free to leave a comment below.

Rated T for descriptions of violence, triggering themes and descriptions of anxiety and grief.

There is a story in all of us which must be told, a longing, a cry or sometimes a whisper under starlit skies. Some stories must be told with an ounce of embellishment or a hint of wonder, some stories are those of friends against foe, or of love and friendship, or bravery and valor or the stories telling us nothing at all. Some make us wander our imagination or the world we live in.And others, the special kind, which push us out the door and onto our feet, running to an unknown destination. With the stars above our heads and the dust between our toes, not knowing where they'll lead us.

Our story begins in a land of magic, beyond anything we could imagine ,full of creatures of wonder, beauty and fear. This particular tale is that of friendship , love and how being a little brave and slightly crazy can get you to places you would never have imagined.

Rain beat the ground with a roaring drone. The sky was a shocking white, ballooned with clouds of monotone greys and blues and the wind howling icy and wet from the south, sending the trees into a fit and the rain pelting down onto the earth in a frenzy.

A tiny black bird with a long, stunning orange tail swooped to the ground, landing with a slight squelch. She cocked her head to the side eyeing the rather long lump in front of her. It appeared to be alive, the blackbird pecked it's pale , wet hand, no movement occurred. She tried again, and jumped back as a loud,pained groan rose from the lump, it's eyes fluttered open for a moment and squeezed shut.

The bird did not understand what had drawn her to the living lump, it radiated a different kind of warmth, a safe kind, one that felt like home. The little blackbird hopped her way to the hand it had pecked and huddled herself inside, the long fingers of the lump gently closed around it, as if it knew not to hurt the bird. The blackbird made herself comfortable and began to coo softly, it's coo rising in three musical notes that gently began to radiate throughout the forest, calling to the other creatures for help.

The rest of the dreary day passed like that with the lump swimming in and out of consciousness.

It was near the late afternoon when the downpour stopped, a second bird joined the first and together they created a heavy melody which caught the ears of a passer by in the woods.

Blackbird heard it first.

The creatures footsteps were soft, it avoided the drying leaves, but squelched in the mud. The creature was one from the bumbling , big folk. It replied to the bird's call with the notes descending, the birds sang their melody louder.

The bird's call grew louder, echoing the urgency of the man's descending whistle. The footsteps sped up as the man broke into a run, he hurtled through the undergrowth, his grey robes getting tangled in the creepers and branches of the tree and his beard swayed this way and that as he ran. All the while whistling and wondering what on Arda had gotten the little creature into such a frenzy.

With a final note the man burst through the treeline into the small clearing, nearly scaring the birds half way to death.

My friends!" came his soft voice, "What is the matter and who is this?" he asked, kneeling beside the soaked lump and tentatively turning them over.

The man's eyebrows furrowed together, his wrinkled face seemed to age more in that moment as a look of concern came over him. "It cannot be!" he quietly exclaimed.

Before him lay she-elf , one who was deathly pale and whose breathing was shallow. The bird's chipped uncontrollably, fluttering hastily in front of the old man, telling him that the elf was fading and fading quickly.

" Yes, I see. You two flapping about like headless chickens is not going to help her!" h said with a huff of annoyance before resting his hand on her stomach and chanting softly as the setting sun broke out of the clouds.

His chanting stopped and her breath became even and deeper, the two birds curled themselves in the crooks of her neck. Warmth began to spread throughout her body, her fingers and toes ached and painfully tingled as blood rushed back to her muscles. She began to slowly clench and unclench her fingers. Her pallor became a healthy shade of creams and pinks as her face warmed up.

The old man leaned back on his haunches as her eyes rapidly opened and closed allowing the late afternoon light in. "Slowly my dear, there is no need to rush." said the old man, he moved to block the light," there, that should help."

"Wha- Where am I? " her voice was a hoarse whisper, "why does everything hurt? " was all she said before she turned on her side and vomited. Her head was spinning, she wretched, tears streaming down her face, her muscles were heavy on her bones. The man gently pulled back her hair and rubbed her back before helping her sit up so he could clean her face with a cloth he produced from under his robes.

"Here, sip on this." He held the waterskin to her mouth with one hand , supporting the back of her neck with the other." Slowly now..."

After a little more coaxing and telling her to sip slowly the elf turned to him," Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you?" She spoke in Westron, he answered in a tongue she had once spoken.

The man's face lit up, his eyes glinted with something she couldn't put her finger on, " I- I am Gandalf, though you know me as Mithrandir. You feel like you know me because you once did. And to answer your earlier question, you are in the forest surrounding the Great East Road, on Middle - Earth, or Arda as the Elven-folk call it."

It was at this point where the girl gave Gandalf or Mithrandir or whatever she was supposed to call him the most befuddled look he'd ever seen on such a fair face. " Elven-folk? How do you know who I am? What do you mean Middle - Earth! ? And what do you mean that I once knew you!? This... this must be a joke!" she fired questions at him before she could process what she was saying.

Her mind swarmed with them, this was all too much, she hadn't heard anyone but herself speak of such a place in years. This could not be real. " Oh dear Lord, what's happening?" She passed her hands down her face and stuck her fingers in her hair, she felt her lungs expand and flatten with each hastening breathe. " No no no no ! This is a dream!" hot tears escaped her eyes," No no no, Middle Earth doesn't exist! No no no!" She was having a panic attack, she tried to remember what her therapist had said earlier that day, if it was still Tuesday that is. " Deep breath in, one...Two. ..three..four...five. And exhale."

She repeated this before Gandalf gently pried her hands from her hair and held them in his much larger and calloused ones. He looked deeply into her eyes, giving her an assuring look, his eyes full of concern. "Breathe with me, come on, in ...And out, there you go my dear, let's go again."She did as he did, one deep breath after the other until her breathing slowed and her mind cleared.

Gandalf squeezed her hands reassuringly, and began to rise to his feet," Everything is fine my dear, you can trust me. Now I need you go to stand, can you do that."

The elf gave a nod and took his hands as he slowly pulled her up. The sun was now gone and the sky had cleared, revealing constellations she had not seen before. Or she at least thought that she hadn't seen before.

She looked down at herself, her black jeans were brown, her shoes were caked with mud and her coat was practically a sponge. She grunted in dissatisfaction, these were her favourite jeans.

Gandalf looked her over, before turning and sniffing the air, his face flushed with worry, he smelt woodsmoke in the air, it was heavy and scented. "No there is something foul at work." He said to no one in particular.

The elf was currently trying to shoo away the birds that were trying to sit on her shoulders, " Come on Lostoriel, we must get moving." said Gandalf as he picked up his staff and ploughed off into the woods.

Lostoriel? She knew that name, it was not hers, hers was Laura. Was...

The elf, Lostoriel hesitated, what are you doing following a strange, homeless, wizard type man into the forest?! Do you want to die?!

Before she continued arguing with herself Gandalf appeared at the edge of the clearing, he looked rather annoyed and unsettled all at once. He raised a hairy eyebrow, "Well, are you coming with or do you fancy being eaten by trolls?"

She didn't know if it was the ridiculousness of the notion of trolls or the stern tone of Gandalf ' s voice which spurred her feet on before her brain could register what was happening.