It was still very early in the morning when the young woman got off the train in Birmingham. Map in hand, she navigated her way around the place, occasionally stopping at the few shops that were open at this time to ask for directions. It had rained very recently, she could tell–there were puddles in the streets, and gurgling could be heard from the drains. She checked her map again. Someone had told her that there was a shortcut through the park to her destination, and she was wondering if she should take it. The park was fairly close by, but it was bound to be muddy after such a recent rain. She decided to risk the mud and set off for the park at a brisk walk, stopping only to buy some breakfast biscuits from a bakery on the way there.

Just as she had expected, it was muddy, but not as much as she'd feared, and it was strangely devoid of the usual people passing through–doubtless the dreary weather had discouraged them from going out.

She was almost on the other side of the park when she heard a slight rusting somewhere to the side of the road, behind the bare flower bushes. She stopped, thinking it must have been her imagination, but as she listened closely, she heard it again, this time accompanied by a low whimper. Had someone's pet gotten lost last night in the rain? Eventually curiosity got the better of her and she walked across the muddy lawn to see what it was.

But instead of a stray dog or cat, there was a rain-drenched, mud-splattered man lying prostate next to a tree.

"Um...hello?" she swallowed her initial surprise, and gingerly tapped him on the shoulder. "You're...you're alive, right?" She hadn't actually expected him to respond to her, but sure enough, he slowly sat up and leaned against the tree, rubbing his head and groaning.

"Yes, I am...Unfortunately. Was I out all night? Gosh, I'm an idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid..."

"Maybe I should get help." The young woman suggested, backing off and looking around. "In fact, there should be a hospital around here, I–"

"No!" He said sharply. "No hospitals...at least not yet. Help me up, ma'am, will you?"

She did, and gave him one of the biscuits she'd bought earlier, which he accepted gratefully.

"To whom do I have the pleasure of thanking for my breakfast this morning?" he asked between bites and gulps.

"Edith Mary–Mrs. John Ronald Reuel Tolkien," she said proudly, "at your service."

The stranger finished the last of his pastry. "Arthur Kirkland at yours, Mrs. Tolkien. I apologize for inconveniencing you."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, and please, call me Edith. Though may I ask exactly what you were doing lying in the park at this hour, Mr. Kirkland?"

Arthur sheepishly turned his gaze to the remaining bits of biscuit in his hands. "Well...um...I got lost on my way home. Had a bit too much to drink. Not in that order." He looked at his mud stained suit. "Ruined a perfectly fine outfit, too."

Edith gave him another biscuit. "You should come with me. I'm visiting my husband today, he's recovering at the hospital, and they might be able to help you. I mean, it's not a normal hospital, it's for recovering soldiers, but I don't know, you should come anyway. I can introduce you to Ronald."

Arthur munched away at his second biscuit. "No, I assure you, I'll be perfectly fine, Mrs. Tolk–" he stopped suddenly and stared at Edith. "It is Mrs. Tolkien, right?"

"Yes..."

"Did you just say your husband's name was Ronald?"

"Why, yes! At least, that's what most of us call him, since his name is so long. Do you know him?"

"Sort of. I met him while we were in France. He's out of commission due to trench fever, isn't he?"

"And I'm on my way to see him right now, at the hospital. Oh!" The bells began to chime the hour. "I'd better hurry, Mr. Kirkland."

"Wait up!" Arthur sighed, and attempted to smooth out his wrinkled clothes. "Alright, I suppose I will be coming with you after all. Let's see this Ronald chap.