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Y/n peeled one eye open, and then the other. A ceiling arched above her. She felt the hard surface of a wooden table beneath her. A dull pain radiated from her neck. She wiggled her fingers in an attempt to ground herself from the weightless sleep that had captured her.

Y/n sat up. The room she was in seemed to be carved out of the trees themselves. Roots snaked across the ceiling and vines climbed the walls. Pictures of birds and flowers were carved into the walls and painted with gold. To her left stood a table stacked with vials of colorful liquid and medical tools.

Her hand drifted to her neck. The rough texture of a linen bandage met her prying fingers. Her memories were blurred but the sound of hissing and scuttling replayed over and over in her mind.

The door opened and a tall man with long brown hair stepped in. His beauty was otherworldly; she’d never seen anything like him. His words floated on air and the language he spoke was in sharp contrast to the company’s.

“How did I get here? What happened?” Y/n’s throat was dry and raspy.

The man tilted his head to the side as he gazed at her. He leaned out the door and called out a name. Another man entered, this one even taller than the last. Both wore robes made of fine embroidered silk.

The first man stepped forward repeated his sentence.

“I don’t understand you, I’m sorry,” Y/n said. She leaned away from him slightly. Fear encroached on her peace of mind. Where was she?

“What language is that?” The first guard asked his counterpart.

“Whatever it is, I don’t understand it,” The other replied.

“I remember hearing it before. We learned a similar language in school, did we not?”

“School!” The second guard scoffed, “That was over a thousand years ago, I wouldn’t remember a thing like that.”

“Speak again,” The first guard commanded, looking at Y/n.

“I don’t understand!” Y/n said as clearly as possible (like that would make a difference).“I don’t know what you want from me!”

“English! That’s it!” The second guard exclaimed.

The first guard turned to him, “I thought you wouldn’t remember something like that.”

“It came back to me,” The other shrugged smugly, “Any matter, it’s English! That’s what she’s speaking.”

“The dead language?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t a dead language dead because no one speaks it?”

“I know of a few who make a point to understand it.”

“Like who?”

“Not me.”

“Helpful. Very helpful,” The first guard paused. “Actually, the Prince might know English.”

“Why would you say that?”

“He had a classical education and is required by kingdom law to know all the languages of the land.”

“Even the dead ones?”

“I’m fairly sure, yes.”

“Alright, well… go inform him.”

“I have to? Why not you?”

“It was your idea.”

“Fine. Keep her here.”

Y/n watched the taller man leave. She and the first man were left alone. The girl pulled her knees to her chest and stared at him. Her fingernails scraped lightly against her bandage.

The guard gave her an awkward smile.

Ten minutes passed in silence. The door handle rattled before opening again. It was not the second man but instead a stranger. He wore gleaming armor and had several swords strapped to his person.

“Sir,” The guard straightened his posture. He had not expected to see his superior officer.

“I have orders to move the prisoner,” The armored man spoke in a deep commanding tone.

“But Sir… we have just sent for the Prince. He should be here any second.”

“Well, I have orders from the Prince to move the prisoner to the dungeon as soon as she wakes.”

“But Sir, there are extenuating circumstances-”

“Do you dare disobey the Prince of Mirkwood?”

The guard straightened up, “No Sir.”

“Then escort the prisoner down to her cell.”

“Yes sir.”

The first man grabbed Y/n’s arm and led her out of the room. Y/n’s eyes widened as she stepped into the vast hallway. It was beautiful. The guard’s shoes tapped on the shinning stone floor. More vines weaved on the walls and the smell of jasmine and fresh earth floated throughout. She’s never been in a place so breathtaking.

Y/n struggled to keep up with the guard’s long strides. She was pulled from one hallway to the next; through passages and down stairs. The air got colder and Y/n became more and more nervous. The hallways grew less and less glamorous until Y/n reached a winding staircase made out of mostly compacted dirt and tree roots.

They had entered a prison. It was huge and dark and damp. Cells lined the walls for as far as the eye could see; they were stacked on top of each other and hidden under staircases. Stairs and short landings connected them all with no discernible pattern.

The guard dragged her deeper into the prison until finally, he began to slow. She turned her head to look into the cells around her. Y/n sighed with relief. The dwarves were there.

“Oh Bofur,” She said as she past his cell. Her hand met his briefly as she was pulled away. He was happy to see her. The company stirred as they saw Y/n. They cheered and said words that meant nothing to her.

Y/n was pushed into a small dark cell with a cot in the corner. Before she could protest the bars slammed shut. She walked to the bars. In the cell directly across from her, stood Kili.

Y/n beamed, “Kili! Thank God, you’re here.”

Kili was equally relieved to see Y/n. He’d been going mad stuck in his tiny cell, not knowing if Y/n had gotten help too late. The prince was afraid she’d died. “Y/n,” He murmured. He pressed his body against the bars. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“I don’t understand why are we in jail? Who are these people? What are they?” Y/n said.

“We’re going to get out don’t worry. Thorin is talking with the King of Mirkwood as we speak. He’ll get us out.”

Gloin grunted. He was in the cell above Kili. “I doubt that. Thorin couldn’t hold his tongue if his life depended on it,” He paused, “Why do you talk to her this way? Lad, she doesn’t understand.”

“Shove it, Gloin,” Kili grumbled with a stony expression. He turned back to Y/n and smiled. He gestured to his neck.

Y/n’s fingers went to the bandage once again. She smiled and nodded. It was feeling much better. She was feeling much better. In fact, the cuts on her feet didn’t hurt at all. Y/n scrunched her brow together. That was strange; it couldn’t have healed in a day.

She took a seat on the dirt-covered bed. It was as hard as cement but Y/n didn’t notice. There were fresh bandages on her feet; different than the ones Oin used. She unwrapped them with carful fingers and prepared herself for the bloody mess beneath. To her surprise, her wounds had healed. Only crusty scabs and light red scars were left on the skin.

“What the fuck?” She whispered. She ripped the bandage off of her neck and pressed her fingertips to the wound. It had already scabbed over - nothing left but dried blood. She couldn’t understand it. No one could heal that quickly. Whatever world she was in must have very advance medicine.

“Are you alright?” Kili asked across the gap.

Y/n looked up. She assumed he was asking how she was. She smiled and gave him two thumbs up. Y/n silently prayed she had guessed right.

Y/n leaned back against the cold damp wall and closed her eyes. She had spent a lot of mental energy asking questions there were no answers to, so she decided to rest.