Jane found this very disturbing. She had not been separated from her sister for many years and was just starting to panic. Then the vortex opened and she landed with a whomp on the ground. Dusting herself off, she looked around. I'd like to say she was in a cool grassy knoll or some Elven paradise, but that was not her fate. She was instead standing in a dark cave. She guessed it was a cave because of the oppressive darkness around her and the cool stone she felt under her bare feet (she had taken her shoes off before the journey, hoping if she did it would be a hint to The Powers That Be that she wanted to be turned into a hobbit [as it is obvious that she must be turned into something]). She felt different somehow, so she hoped for a moment that they had gotten the message. The biting cold soon told her perhaps they didn't. A crack of light poked under a door in the small room. Carefully sneaking toward it (which was pretty easy, being barefoot), she pushed the door open. A bright light blared down on her. She was looking out into a immense hall, more vast than anything she ever remembered seeing. It was filled with the smells of food, leather, metal and smoke. A strong, pounding music flowed around her like the wave of dizziness and nausea she was now feeling. People filled the room. It seemed there was some kind of feast going on. Before she could think too much, someone ran up to her and grabbed her arm.
"Lóin, come. Dinner has started," said a gruff voice. The person looked like a rough mountain man, but there was something about him. A closer look revealed something odd behind the long, scraggly beard and chain mail.
'It's a woman!' Jane thought.
The he-woman dragged her toward a table. As they ran, Jean noticed something alarming about herself. She had a beard. She stopped dead. Yep, there was a long mass of hair dangling from her chin. She screamed. Everyone turned to look at her, but she didn't notice. After a quick check to assure herself that she was still female, she found a mirror and ran to it. She might have noticed the magnificent artwork and inlaid jewels, but she was mesmerized by the glass. When she looked in, she saw something totally foreign. A squat, square-ish form with a rugged face and way too much hair.
"Holy crap! I'm a dwarf!" She fainted.
Meanwhile, Suzie was having her own problems. She'd hit her head on something when she landed. As she dreamed, she became faintly aware of what had happened. She slowly returned to consciousness, fully expecting to be waking up in an egregiously soft bed with sunlight warming her face. Any second she'd hear Elrond's soothing voice heralding her awakening. Any second now... wait, she was hearing something.
"Bashnug! Get your lazy carcass up and help me get some wood!"
She felt a sharp pain in her side and a cold wind crossed her face. She finally opened her eyes. There was no sun, no Elrond, no lovely Elven pillows. Just grass and dirt and stone. She jumped to her feet. She was surrounded by ugly, insectoid creatures with slapdash armor clattering around a field.
'Orcs!' she realized with a start. Her impulse was to bolt for the nearest tree (being an elf, as she surely was by now), but there were too many. She was surrounded. She stood there for several seconds, frozen in fear, until a piece of wood smacked her in the face. Rubbing her chin, she looked to where it had come from. An especially ugly orc was staring at her.
She didn't move, hoping that it wouldn't see her. The orc did not look happy. It strode to her, grabbed her by the neck and tossed her toward a line of trees. It chopped a branch off one of them and threw it at her. She tried to catch it, but being still very unsure as to what was going on, it knocked her back off her feet. As she scrambled up, she spotted a puddle in front of her. Hesitantly, she peered over. She spun around, thinking someone had come up behind her. There was no one there. She looked in again. The nasty, ugly creature looking back at her... was her.
'Oh, for the love of...'
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.