I woke up with a jolt. Like, full-on — heart pounding, breath caught, hands ready to throw a telekinetic punch at the nearest wall.
Except… I wasn't in the forest anymore.
I was in a treehouse. A real one. Like a wooden platform woven into the branches, leafy walls, the whole "four-star hotel for highly civilized Elves" vibe.
All around me, massive trunks stretched skyward, like the forest had decided to arm-wrestle the mountains. Green light filtered through the leaves like a shifting stained-glass window, and even the shadows felt warm and soft.
I had never seen a place so calm. Or so alive.
"You're awake, Lord Ranger — the one who fought bravely against the Defiler Azog."
Okay. Right. Hello again, weird world.
I turned around (slowly, in case the voice belonged to an orc with a gentle tone — you never know). And there, I found myself face to face with a girl… no. An Elf. Pointy ears, long flowing robe, flawless skin, hair so shiny even a shampoo commercial would be jealous.
"You're an Elf?" I asked, kind of stupidly, but come on. After giant wargs and ugly orcs, I needed confirmation.
She nodded gracefully and handed me clean clothes. Elven clothes, I assumed, though I knew nothing about fantasy fashion.
I looked at my torn T-shirt and decaying shoes with a sigh. Even with a mental system worthy of a superhero movie, I looked like a guy who had gone twelve rounds with a possessed lawnmower.
I got changed. She guided me outside. And that's when things got serious.
We climbed a staircase that spiraled around a trunk as wide as a house. Little lights floated around us — fireflies, I think — or maybe tiny Elven spies, I had no idea. But it was beautiful. Too beautiful to be normal.
And suddenly, like a mental slap… I understood.
The orcs, the one-armed chief named Azog, the dark forest, this girl who said "Galadriel" like she was a local celebrity…
I was in The Lord of the Rings. Like, actually in it. Not some extra getting stabbed by a goblin in the background — I was in deep.
A mix of excitement and panic surged through me.
Which meant I was in Lothlórien. Galadriel's realm. And the forest I had staggered through half-dead… was probably Mirkwood. Great. I had literally entered the worst part of the map on arrival.
The gentle voice of the servant pulled me from my thoughts.
"Lady Undomiel and Lady Galadriel are waiting for you."
Undomiel? Wait. I launched the auto-translate in my system.
Undomiel = Evening Star.
Arwen.
My brain did a triple backflip.
I froze, heart racing. If Arwen was here, then we were before the movies. Before the Fellowship — maybe even before The Hobbit. This was… huge. I had landed in the golden age of the Elves.
"Tell me… Was it Princess Arwen who saved me?" I asked, a little too quickly.
"Yes, Lord Ranger. She gave up her journey to Rivendell to bring you here when she saw you surrounded by orcs."
She had saved me. Arwen. The legend. I was two seconds from tears. (Okay, exaggerating. But only a little.)
We reached the top of the stairs. I barely had time to breathe before a soft voice greeted me:
"A man capable of facing wargs and orc riders in the dark woods is worthy of our respect."
I looked up… and saw her.
Arwen.
Nothing had prepared me for this.
She wore a white dress that shimmered in the light of Telperion — the moon-tree, for those keeping track — and her black hair framed a face that could make a god cry.
She looked… real. Not like in a movie. And yet, so unreal at the same time.
I froze. Literally. My neurons shut down.
She blushed. I melted on the spot.
And then another voice spoke. Calm. Gentle. But with an authority that makes your spine straighten even if you're dead.
"You lack courtesy, Lord Ranger."
I turned around. Galadriel.
She didn't need a crown to look regal. She looked at me with pale, almost translucent eyes, like she could see right through me. Which, knowing her powers, was probably true.
I bowed again. Not from fear, but pure instinct.
"I beg your pardon, Princess Arwen… When I saw you, I thought I was seeing Lúthien Tinúviel herself."
It was true. And a bit risky. Comparing a girl to an ancient Elven semi-goddess can come off as poetic… or as bad flirting.
Fortunately, Arwen smiled. She even laughed a little. A crystal laugh, like a tiny celestial chime that heals your soul.
Galadriel raised an eyebrow. Arwen quickly regained her composure.
Then she asked my name.
I wasn't about to say "Edward Highland, telekinetic from another universe," so I improvised:
"Edward Highland. Ranger of Rohan. I was on my way to Dale… but got lost in Mirkwood."
She nodded. It fit. I'd memorized Middle-earth's mental map like a good fantasy nerd.
Arwen withdrew after a final smile. And that's when Galadriel gave me that look.
The one that says "I know you're lying, kid."
But she didn't call me out. Not yet.
"Arwen is still a child, despite her two thousand years." She said it like a true mother.
Then, more gently: "I am her grandmother."
Oops.
"Back home, we say grandmothers love harder than mothers," I tried, smiling to ease the tension.
She studied me without responding.
Then she changed the subject. Abruptly.
"You are… different, Edward Highland."
My back stiffened. She had tried to read my mind. And failed. Thank you, Chronicle-level mental defense system.
But she let it go. She spoke of Beren and Lúthien. Of the tragic tale between an Elf and a mortal man.
And me… I got what she was trying to say. A warning. A test.
"I want Arwen to be happy. Even if it means… giving up immortality."
Galadriel didn't smile. But she stared at me like I was a walking paradox.
"You'll mostly have to deal with her father."
Elrond. Of course. Mr. "I hate mortals flirting with my daughter." Great.
I stood straighter.
"Maybe… like in the Ainulindalë, the music of the origins didn't write everything. Maybe Arwen and I have our own melody."
She said nothing.
Then, finally, a smile. Tiny. But there.
"The fate of Elves is written in the Music. But the fate of Men… is not."
And in that moment, I knew: nothing was set in stone.
She looked at me one last time.
"And now… what are your plans, Edward Highland?"
Good question.
And I'd have to answer it soon.