*EDIT* It's been a while since I've done this, and I forgot! Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit or its characters. There.

The Loudest Silence

Chapter One

The beginning of my tale was somewhat more… upsetting, than I would have expected. Looking back on it, I thought that if something of this magnitude occurred, it would've been in my dream future – where of course I would be athletic, have lost all my weight, graduated college, learned the art of fighting, and gained mad survival techniques.

My actual story, however, started when I was chubby, self-conscious, and barely able to speak up for myself, let alone fight for my life. I was basically the human equivalent of a potato. Or, it felt like it anyway.

I had been going through a rough patch, like most University students do at some point or another: My grades were slipping down a slope from which they would never return. My cruddy apartment was the vision of gloom. My body had become nothing but pudge from sitting around doing homework, combined with my bad habit of stress-eating. My job at the local grocery store was doing nothing to help this rough patch either, as it was becoming blatantly obvious that I would be stuck working there my entire life.

Things were… not necessarily good, but they could have been much worse. I just didn't see it that way at the time. I was rapidly falling into depression and your vision is always murky during depression. Everything is pointless, you think you're a failure, your body image mocks you, blah, blah. It goes on, until something happens to plant an awful idea in your head. It can be the smallest thing, too.

In my case, it was a gaggle of girls on my walk home. I, in all my depressed glory – oversized black hoodie, baggy sweatpants, recently cropped off hair – was not paying attention to where I was going on that cloudy day. I was thinking about how soon I could get home to read the book that I was toting around in my backpack, but I was also thinking about the final grades I had received that day. Or rather, I was hoping to get home and read so as to forget the grades I had received.

It was at that point that I had a small collision with one of the girls, sending us stumbling backwards. Of course, it had to be a tall, lanky, raven-haired goddess who dropped her iPhone upon collision.

I quickly offered a, "Sorry," as I awkwardly bent to pick it up for her. The girl grabbed it up quickly before I could even get close, checking it for damage, then sent a glare my way as we straightened ourselves.

"Watch where you're going next time, fatass. I just got this thing," she snapped.

My jaw all but dropped at her unneeded insult, as she brushed off her sporty jacket like my mere touch may have ruined the integrity of the material. The other two with her had similar looks on their faces. I was so not in the mood to deal with this.

"Look, it's not broken and I said I was so - " I began.

She interrupted, giving me a once over as she spoke. "Why are you even outside? I would drink a bottle of bleach before I let anyone see me like that."

Ouch. I opened my mouth to say something – anything – to this shallow twit, but found myself too embarrassed to retort. So my mouth just hung open for a moment before I closed it again. She was right, I thought. I really was a sad sight.

They turned and walked away, huffing to themselves, as if I had committed the crime of the century just by existing. I heard an, "Oh my God, she didn't break it, did she?" followed by, "No, but… ugh, please you guys – promise you'll end me if I ever become that pathetic." Then they were out of earshot, and I was still standing there on the sidewalk like an idiot.

I thought about going after them, telling them off, giving them a piece of my mind. They deserved to hear whatever tongue lashing I could give them. But in the end, I just turned away with tears prickling the corners of my eyes and continued my walk home. Every time it came down to word-to-word combat, I failed miserably. The thought of how pathetic I was kept crawling back into my mind though, and I couldn't shake it. What was the point anymore? My life wasn't going anywhere. My friends had all moved away. My mom didn't even talk to me anymore since my grades began plummeting. My dead-end job would basically be my life til I died. Random strangers even thought I looked pathetic. Albeit, shallow twits, but still people. (Who, for some reason, I still cared about the opinions of back then?)

It was a gross moment for me.

The icing on the cake, though, was when it started to rain. The clouds had been threatening the town with a downpour for quite some time, but for some reason, just then seemed like an appropriate moment to try and drown me. My mood worsened. I began actually crying.

To this day, I'm still not sure what would have happened had I made it home. If I would have sat and cried, turning out totally fine in the end, or if I would have gone home and… well. There's no way of knowing, because I never did make it back to my apartment.

I was shuffling down the sidewalk, road on one side, grass on the other, when a wave of dizziness hit me. I didn't think anything of it at first, willing to blame stress or fatigue. But then it just got worse. I had to slow my steps from their already snail-like pace so that I wouldn't fall over, but that was futile too.

One second I was standing, and the next, my face was trying to have a make-out session with the wet grass. Black dots began spotting in the corners of my vision, panic welling up inside me as I attempted to get up. I couldn't pass out there, in the middle of town. What if someone came by and stole my backpack while I was unconscious? What if I woke up naked? Oh lord, what if someone stole my backpack and I woke up naked?

There were so many "what if's" running through my brain, and none of them actually happened. What did happen was so far out of my "what if" zone that it probably had to get a passport.

I blacked out. I have no idea how much time passed while I was unconscious, but it couldn't have been very long (I hoped). I woke up still feeling dizzy, and took a moment before I opened my eyes again, trying to make the world stop spinning. When I was finally somewhat stable, I realized that I could no longer feel rain pelting down. In fact, I could hear birds chirping away and trees rustling.

I sat up slowly, noting that my backpack and my clothes were still on me – Thank God – but also noting that I was no longer where I should have been. My eyes widened.

It was just forest, all around me. Thick green grass layered the ground with color, the occasional pile of leaves, twigs, and bushes spotting it with other shades. There were trees in every direction, some farther apart than others, but it was very much a forest. My heart was going crazy and my breathing sped up. I was on the edge of a small clearing of some kind, possibly twenty to thirty feet wide from what I could tell in my panicked stupor. Sunlight filtered down on me as some feathery twerps bounced around on branches, paranoid of my presence.

I gazed at my surroundings, dumbfounded, running a hand through my disheveled pixie cut. I stood up, prepared to whip my phone out and call the police.

But that's when I saw her.

Standing on the opposite side of the clearing, she was like something straight out of a fairytale – which, knowing what I know now, makes sense. The words 'elegant' and 'ghost' came to mind immediately, seeing as how this woman was almost transparent. She was tall and willowy, with a heart-shaped face and rosy lips. Her hair hung in fiery waves well past her waist, and atop her head sat a delicate gathering of flowers – some yellow, some purple, and a few small blue ones. I had never paid attention to botany, but they looked healthy and very much alive for their placement on her head. There was an unearthly shine about her that radiated from every inch of her body. Her deep emerald gown, adorned with a trailing pattern of leaves in gold thread, even seemed to glow with it. Every part of this magnificent woman called out life and vitality, despite her phantom-like consistency.

Her eyes though. I think her eyes are what enraptured me the most. Bright, shining amber. Their color was beautiful, but the wisdom, the pure age that came through was mind-blowing. I could only stare like a dodo. For all my previous panic at waking up in a forest, her presence set me at ease. I can't explain it, but as soon as I laid eyes on her, the tension in my body seemed to melt away.

I opened my mouth to say hello, but nothing came out. Yes, excellent start. I chalked this silence up to my lack of finesse with people.

Her face produced a delicate smile. "I'm glad you have arrived safely, my child."

When her lips didn't move to form the words, my eyebrows rose up. I glanced around the clearing one more time, to make sure it hadn't been someone else that spoke – and partially to make sure I wasn't losing it. This was some Professor Xavier level stuff going on.

Following up her odd statement, I wanted to ask, "Arrived where, exactly?" But found that I couldn't. Legitimately could not get the words out. Like, vocal chords not obeying when I tried to speak. This was cause for worry.

"You will have answers soon," she responded, obviously knowing what was going through my head at that moment. "You know this place, though you have never set foot in this land. It is both familiar and foreign. I have no doubt that you will thrive, however, and do what is needed of you."

That's all I wanted right then. Riddles. What does that even mean? I thought. I don't know why I doubted she could read minds. Miss Xavier over here…

In reply, her smile faded into an almost sorrowful look, and she said, "A great wrong must be righted, young one. The Valar have chosen you to weave a different fate for this story, whether it end in grief or gladness."

…my brain train slid to a halt.

The Valar? I asked silently, skeptical of what just entered my ears. I recognized Tolkien talk when I heard it, and a creeping sense of – dread? Anticipation? Anxiety? – something overcame my body.

"We have only set one rule in place: You cannot create words, be it with voice or ink, until the fulfillment of this task. Your silence is the only payment required."

We? Payment? What…? Was this chick saying she was one of Tolkien's legendary beings? Legendary – fictional – beings? And why the hell did I have to pay? Pay for what? I hadn't agreed to anything yet!

The woman – whoever or whatever she was – seemed to understand my frustration. A slender, translucent hand rose, palm forward, instantly ceasing my mental ramble. A small smile showed on her lips as she spoke. "We have given you a gift in order to mend this tale, and in turn, mend yourself. Actions often speak much louder than words, and it would do you good to remember that throughout your journey."

A sparkle in those eyes warmed my heart. For a moment, I forgot why I was upset.

"Good luck, young one."

Without warning, the clearing was silent and empty again. The wind rustled some leaves. A bird chirped somewhere. Another bird answered. I stared at the spot where the glowing woman had stood, and remained confused and motionless for a good long while. The calm feeling that she spread across the area was gone, having fled along with her. It was back to just me and my ever mounting uncertainty at the situation.

I ran through her words over and over again in my head, knowing that – if she was telling the truth – I had just spoken with one of the Valar. Of course, there was the alternative of trying to find a hologram machine somewhere in the woods, and maybe a fancy speaker that could project sound into your brain meat, but somehow I knew that was not what happened. The woman had radiated magic, warmth, and safety. That's not something you can just… cook up with speakers. I knew I wasn't dreaming, either. My clothes were still damp from the rain, I could feel the breeze and the sunlight, and I could still feel the vague stinging in my eyes from when I had cried. Nope. Not a dream.

Running over my options, I finally decided that none of my many questions would be answered by just standing there. If I was – Lord forbid – actually in Middle Earth, I had no idea which forest I was in, what mountain range I was beside, or how far away I was from relative safety. For all I knew, Mordor could be right around the corner. (I was desperately hoping that the Valar wouldn't have dropped me off at someplace like that, but you never knew.)

I mean, how far away could the nearest sign of people be?

Well…

I wound up wandering for hours.

Don't even ask me how many exactly, but it was enough to make me question my sanity. I began thinking that maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe I had been drugged, and dropped off in the woods for dead. But what would have been the point of that? I checked my backpack before heading out and it still had all my belongings – wallet, notebooks, calculator, pens, various other crap – so it couldn't have been a theft.

Every time I began to think that meeting hadn't happened though, I would try to speak, always with the same result. Nothing. No sound. My encounter had been real, and I was really stuck without a voice until… When did she say? Until 'the fulfillment of this task'? Which could mean a number of things, honestly. How many 'tasks' did Tolkien's characters have to go through, assuming I really was in Middle Earth? Was I supposed to help the Fellowship? Help destroy the One Ring? But she had said 'A great wrong must be righted,' so that couldn't be it. Frodo and Sam destroy the Ring perfectly well, albeit short a finger and gaining extreme PTSD.

Maybe it wasn't Lord of the Rings then. Was I supposed to go with Bilbo Baggins on his adventure? Why would I need to change…?

I stopped my walk, mid-thought. Reaching up to my left arm, I rubbed the tattoo that I knew resided underneath my clothing. I had gotten it almost a year prior, nearly forgetting it was there. Was that why she brought me here…?

I thought on this for longer than I should have. Finally I began walking again, with a suspicion of why I was there planted in my brain, but the sun was already making its descent for the evening. I hiked as far as I could in one direction, hoping to find a sign of civilization, as the sunlight was fading. Nighttime in a chilly forest? With no idea what could be out there? Sounded great. Absolutely fantastic. Maybe my sarcasm could keep me warm through the night.

I was hungry, but I wanted to save my granola bars for tomorrow, in case I had to wander all day again, and I was tired. Right as I decided to give up and rest for the night, I saw a small pillar of smoke in the distance, rising from the trees. Yes! People! Maybe they could direct me to a road, or give me food or something. Or it was just a forest fire and I was about to die.

I started forward quickly, borderline jovial, but then remembered where I was (or where I supposedly was). Would people here be friendly to a strange girl who couldn't speak? Or a more worrisome thought: Would they even be people? Or could they be Orcs? Ugh… Right when I thought I would get a break.

Cautiously, I continued towards the smoke. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear water running. Large creek? River? I didn't know for sure. In the ever-dimming twilight, it became hard to pick my way through the shrubbery as quietly as I had been before. I was biting my lip with nervousness, not knowing what might await me, when I saw the orange glow of a campfire. The light was partially shrouded by bushes and low hanging trees, so I couldn't tell who it belonged to. Of course.

I crept nearer, basically at a snail's pace by that point. There were voices talking, though it only sounded like two, male from what I could tell. Abruptly, I heard a loud laugh, causing me to jump in surprise. The leaves on the ground shuffled with my movement, and I froze, eyes wide, when the camping area grew silent. Shit.

There was the sound of quick footsteps, and before I could get my ass in gear to either A.) run away or B.) look a little less suspicious, a figure poked through the foliage. The firelight behind him prevented me from seeing any real details, but he was much taller than me. Suddenly he grabbed my arm. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I pulled back, and everything in my body was telling me to escape, but before I knew it, I was dragged through the bushes into the small circle of trees.

"Look what I found snooping, Jean," the tall one with a death grip on my arm said. In the firelight, I could now tell he was in his late twenties, maybe thirties, with light hair and squinty eyes that I did not like. His outfit was definitely medieval though, and for the first time, I really truly believed I was in a different world. Nobody wore tunics like that at home, except maybe to renaissance festivals and certainly not to camp in.

The other one – Jean, apparently – looked up from his spot by the fire. He was maybe a few years older than the other with the same peculiar style of clothing, but he had dark, short hair. He quirked an eyebrow at my shaking form. Yes, I was definitely shaking, I am sad to say.

"You always find odd ones, don't you?" Jean said, looking me up and down with the same squinty eyes. I guessed that they were related, brothers maybe? I really didn't care. I just wanted to be on my way, trusting my gut feeling over anything right then.

"Yeah, that's true. But she's not bad, right?" the blonde one asked. "Considering she fell into our laps and all."

The older huffed in a bored way, looking back down to what he was doing. Skinning a small animal of some kind. Rabbit?

"I suppose," he replied, then stared at the fire for a second, before turning his gaze back to us. "At least make sure this one is alone. You remember what happened last time you didn't check."

The one other barked a laugh that I recognized from before, leaning over to peek through the bushes we had just come from. "Oh yes! Her husband was not pleased."

This was quickly heading in a direction that set my stomach roiling. I tugged again, digging my feet into the ground. He glanced down at me like I was dog who couldn't get a chew toy away from him.

"I suggest you get it over with, Gavin," Jean muttered, agitated.

"Alright, alright," the blonde – Gavin – conceded. "I don't even think she understands us though. Hasn't said one word this entire time. Might make it easier to - "

I snapped out of my terrified stupor, not even wanting to hear the end of that sentence. Of course, of course the first people I run into are disgusting perverts. I jerked my entire body to try and get out of his grip, which only resulted in him grabbing my other arm as well to hold me still. When I heard the noise of Jean standing, I knew that my window of escape was very small, because there was no way I could take on both of them.

I quickly kicked upward with my knee, and given my height versus his, this was more difficult than anticipated. I hit my target though, causing him to double over cursing, one hand flying to his crotch. The hand that remained was painfully tight so I twisted, slamming my free elbow into his face.

There was a sickening CRACK and he relinquished his grip in favor of howling, covering his face. It would have been amusing had I not been scared to death. As I stumbled away to run, I only got a few feet before another hand grabbed my wrist. When I turned to face my assailant, I was greeted by the sight of an aggrivated Jean. And of course, a big-ass hunting knife.

My heart leapt into my throat. This was it. It hadn't even started and it was already over.

"Slice her open, Jean! She broke my fuckin' nose!" the younger one snarled through now bloody hands.

Jean was calmer, and yet, somehow more terrifying, in his reply. "I've told you before not to play around. Just because you lost your chance doesn't mean I have to forfeit mine as well."

Oh hell no! I screamed internally, flinging my whole body in the opposite direction. His grip on my wrist didn't give though, an angry Gavin was heading over, and panic engulfed me. So I bit down on Jean's hand, drawing blood, and boy did I pay for it.

He hissed through his teeth, slashing the knife at me as I yanked myself from his death grip. The blade sliced through the side of my arm, but had I not moved, I would have probably lost the whole freaking limb.

I scrambled away from that camp quicker than I had ever moved in my 21 years of existence, throwing myself through the bushes and into the forest. Angry shouts could be heard following me. My arm stung as I sprinted through the darkness, hitting low branches, barely able to see in what moonlight was coming through the treetops. I knew adrenaline was keeping me from feeling how bad the cut on my arm actually was. My initial thought was of how close the wound was to my tattoo, and something in the back of my mind really hoped it hadn't gotten screwed up by that maniac, since I had scrimped and saved to pay for it. Then my second thought was that my priorities on this situation were a little skewed.

Like I mentioned before, I was not athletic, and running for my life was draining me of what little energy I had in the first place. I was quickly losing steam and I could hear the two men gaining on me. Their legs were much longer and I was already out of breath, but there was something else I could hear too, becoming louder as I went.

The sound of rushing water, and lots of it at that.

Desperation made me surge forward when I saw the edge of the trees, and the sound of the water grew to a scary volume. More terrifying though was the thought of being caught by the rapidly approaching footsteps behind me, much too close for comfort. I knew how to swim somewhat better than most, and while the odds of drowning were high, my odds of death or worse if I got caught were much higher. The silver light in the sky allowed me to see just enough to know that there was a drop coming up, but I couldn't tell for sure how far, just that there was a river at the bottom. And hopefully no sharp rocks, otherwise this was going to suck.

I didn't allow myself to stop and think. I just ran until there was no more room, and jumped.

The drop couldn't have been more than fifteen feet, but while I was falling, it felt like fifty. I didn't really get a chance to wonder about that though, because as soon as I hit the water, I was fighting for my life all over again. I was submerged in the chilly water momentarily, kicking my way to the surface before an undercurrent could grab me. It was just a mass of rapids and torrents from then on, swimming as best as I could, trying to keep my head above the water. My wounded arm was burning, hindering my movements. My other limbs were swiftly becoming just as useless, cold seeping into my bones, draining my energy. I choked on the water as I was dragged under more and more often.

I thought I was going to die there. I cursed those perverted bastards from the forest. I cursed my lack of athleticism. I especially cursed the so-called Valar who brought me there in the first place, for allowing me to believe I was in Middle Earth and then instantly killing me off. I mean, who the hell does that? What was the point of all that, if I was just going to drown in a river? It was all rather depressing.

Those dismal thoughts were the only thing I could focus on, until even those became a blur. The world was shimmering moonlight on deadly water, throwing me around like a weak little ragdoll.

At the last second, my body smacked into a large rock, and a flicker of hope sprouted in my chest. The boulder was barely big enough for me to drape myself over it before my limbs gave out. I was dizzy and my breathing was labored. My heartbeat thumped painfully in my ears as the water splashed around my legs, trying to get me back. Everything grew dim as I heard voices draw near – different voices than before.

I could only pray they were friendly.

AN: Thank you so much for reading, and let me know what you guys think so far!