Elena Callaway was written on the plastic band on my wrist as I turned the water at my sink and began furiously rubbing my finger with a ridiculous amount of soap. But still, the ring latched onto my finger and stuck with no hope of being separated from my flesh.

I cursed; I shouldn't have tried to put on the ring that I randomly found at the hallway. It probably belonged to another patient here. After a few minutes trying and got frustrated by it, I began coughing and ended up spitting out blood at the white sink again. Not surprised, I wiped my mouth and gurgled some water before closing the tap. Breathing in as I looked at the mirror, I steeled myself.

I'd say for someone with a fourth stage of lung cancer, I looked pretty damn good.

"Okay. Okay. We're alright," I peptalked myself then pushed the pole that held my portable IV which had been attached to my veins for the last eight months, out of this tiny bathroom that emanated the strong smell of rubbing alcohol. "Ugh. Disgusting," I mumbled to myself.

Limping out of my room, I made my way to the nurse quarters and grinned at them, tapping at one nurse's desk. "Hey, you. Find the owner of this blasted ring yet? I shouldn't have put it on, now it's stuck to my finger. I blamed you for picking on my curiosity."

The plump nurse who had the kindest smile on her face shook her head. "No. Sorry, sweetie. I asked around the wing. No one lost no ring. Tell you what, if no one claims it, I'd say you call dibs on it," Deborah looked around at her coworkers, "We won't tell if you don't."

I sighed. "This ring looks expensive, you know. I bet someone is looking for it. Let me know if you hear anything, yeah, Debs?"

Deborah smiled. "Certainly, Elena. And oh! Have you tried soap?" she suggested as she gestured to the white gem on my index finger.

"I spent ten minutes and half bottle of handwashing soap. No dice," I murmured.

"Oh so you're the one who keeps clogging the damn pipe with soap," commented Michael, the maintenance staff who passed the hall with his cleaning machine, as he gave me his 'ehehehe' laugh.

"Caught me, Mr. Lorenzo," I grinned at him, raising my free hand. He shook his head and grinned good naturedly as he continued his work vacuuming the hospital hallway.

"Oil would work," Debs added.

I nodded. "Yeah," I grinned, "Let's do that before another tumor grow at the tip of my finger and seal my fate to this ring forever."

Deborah giggled at that. "Elena, you are such a morbid patient. Me no like," she shook her finger. Again, my chest felt congested and I involuntarily began to cough. Deb's smile faltered when I didn't stop coughing, but rather doing it with more...gusto. Rather violently, if you will. She walked over her desk and got to my side, noticing the blood on my palm. This time I produced way too much blood, but seeing the wide eyed look on Deb's face, I shook my head, despite the impending doom I felt coming.

Well, shirt.

"It's fine, Debs. It's this hospital strawberry jello-they're absolutely disgus-"

Strength left me. Shadow framed my sight, threatening to consume me. Do you know how it feels when you were about to pass out but know you'd never wake up again? It felt that way, except exactly after I blindly heard Deborah shouting my name and calling for a Code Blue, I found myself walking and walking and walking, until a short statured, dense looking and hairy man bumped into me and shaking me out of my reverie.

"Watch it, lassie," he grumbled before continued walking on his way.

My eyes followed the midget old man, confused by such meeting, but when I looked around, sure enough, there were more things to amaze.

A crowd of diverse races, though one race made up most of the crowd. Guessing from their ears and their ethereal look, I'd guess they would be elves.

Elves? Dwarves?

Small midgets with less hair than the previous one who bumped me passed by. Their eyes reminded me of curious rabbits.

Hobbits?

"What in Tolkien's name-?" I snorted. That was when a horse decided to trample me and sent me back to the realm of the dead, but not, because someone managed to get me out of the way, and he smelled like lavender field in Grasse, France.

"Watch your step, miss," he let me go and when I saw the golden haired elf, I immediately knew who he was. How I knew, I didn't know.

"I'm sorry. Thank you," I said. His expression remained stoic, eyes as cold and unfeeling even as he gave a nod and moved on to rejoin his group of the Guards of Rivendell.

Captain of the Guards of Rivendell. Glorfindel, right. Balrog Slayer! Elvish model wearing glimmering golden armors that glinted in the sun which threatened to blind mere mortal eyes. Best not get on his bad side.

How I knew that? I didn't know.

All I knew was I only vaguely remember the voice of Debra calling for Code Blue-whatever that means. Was it Debra, though? Debbie? Abbie? Elizabeth?

I shook my head and rest myself assured that Code Blue might just be a code for lunch, and that Ethelien, the elf who sold the best apple pie in town awaits me to spend more of my hard earned money on her.

I bought an apple pie from her and began eating as I walked on, my feet carrying me home on autopilot. Turns out, home was at an inn at the tavern in town.

Again, moving on autopilot, I proceeded to carry on with my life as normal. Home from work with a few silver coins, boil hot water and have an indulgent hot bath for myself as I read another book to entertain myself. This time, I was reading about Fifty Shades of Grey.

Just kidding. I was reading upon the Battle of Beleriand. Give us blood! Give us suffering! Cheerful.

The moment the water began to get cold, I stepped out of bath and dried myself, putting on a simple tunic-elven made, durable yet light and cool to the skin. It was actually the first thing I purchased since I got my first bearing in this realm.

I caught a glance of myself at the bathwater and took a pause. I looked healthy. That's what always came to mind when I see myself, and for some reason, I'd love for nothing but to keep myself healthy.

I shrugged and put on my leggings before sitting on my desk and continued my work on a new project: a writing instrument. Instead of a feather quill with very little firmness in the grip and obviously serious lack of robust quality, and the constant need to always be dipped in ink-I came upon an idea of a sturdy writing tool. Inkless, ergonomic grip between the fingers. Using lead and simple wood, which still needed to be perfectly carved to fit nicely in my hand, and glued to perfection-I will create the best writing utensil this realm has ever seen and I will call it-

"A pencil," I smiled like a fool at my first creation and began starting writing with it. "Ahahahahah!" I laughed to myself at how buttery it glides on parchment and how easy and much neater my writing had become upon this upgrade.

Within the next few months, I began to market. At first, the future market for this creation of mine was bleak since most of the people in Rivendell were illiterate, and it was next to impossible to sell stuff to the elves who governed this realm without a proper channel, and I was about to give up on my ambition to market my pencil. I was forced to lower my price, but only then I came across a certain dwarf named Tholin who took interest in my craft and made regular purchase of them every month at beautiful price. I don't know why a dwarf needs two dozens of pencils each month, but as far as I know, he could tie them up together with a rubber band and shove them pencils up his butt and I wouldn't care as long as he kept the money coming. The stingy dwarf did try to get me to lower the price, but seeing the greed in his little beady eyes, I countered with a threat to stop producing more pencils for him and that got him to stop asking for lower price.

And now, I am happy woman, leading an easy life with steady income from my not so beautiful creation, but a functional one at that. I even managed to get out of my part time job as a barmaid at the tavern and turned this as a full time business.

It was until the celebration of Summer Festival, where all Rivendell inhabitants gathered in the heavily guarded garden of the House of Elrond to eat and drink a hefty amount of elvish delicacies while listening to elvish rather gloomy summer songs, then I found out.

That little piece of shirt dwarf was swindling the fork out of me.

I choked on a glass of grape juice the moment I saw a dozen of scribes of Rivendell, all of them, using my pencils as their writing tool.

With determination, I marched to the nearest elf scribe and gave him a saccharine smile as I intend to confirm my suspicion.

"That is a strange but beautiful quill," I commented lightly, "But your writing is ever more beautiful," I added for a more desired effect.

The elf lowered his head and placed his hand on his chest gracefully. "Thank you. 'Tis a beautiful quill, isn't it? Dwarf made. They are very skilled in their craft, but I must say, this is their most impressive craft so far."

I have never wanted to strangle an elf before, just to shake him off with the fact that it was MY craft that he was so highly praised. Not the stinking dwarf's.

"Oh yeah? Which dwarf?" I asked lightly.

"Tholin, son of Thodion."

I got you, you son of a beech.

"Alright, nice, nice," I nodded enthusiastically, "Must be expensive," I baited as I studied the pencil in his hand, and noticed the tiny chipped part at the butt of the pencil. I remembered that pencil-I glued the orifice of that chipped part with rubber sap myself.

"A coin of gold each."

I gasped loudly, flabbergasted at that revelation. "One gold coin!?"

The elf flinched at my sudden response. I quickly gathered myself. "Don't you think it's too expensive? It's basically just a piece of tiny wood you're holding there."

"Well, Lord Elrond appreciated this quill more for the practicality of it. He takes this rather intelligent invention as a sign of the flourish of knowledge amongst the united free folks of Middle Earth."

Holy sheet, what the forking hell?! Lord Elrond, the number one person in this place, the most powerful and most important elf who guarded this realm, appreciated MY craft THAT much and paid ten times the price I sold to that forking motherforker?!

Un-forking-believable!

A growl escaped me and I walked, having heard enough, leaving the elf looking at me with a confused frown as I turned away, gripping my glass of grape juice so hard in my hand as I fumed away without further pleasantries.

"Fork that cheating dwarf, does he think he can get away that easy-? Ahh!"

I yelped as I bumped against a solid wall. The next thing I saw was a chest, a glorious chest covered with what looked like an expensive, elven-made tunic, stained purple with my grape juice. When I looked up, a pair of the bluest eyes I've ever seen was looking into my eyes with disdain.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

The elf warrior looked like he was having trouble hiding his annoyed scowl at me. "We have got to stop meeting like this," he said in his melodic, deep baritone voice.

What's worse, that elf was the Captain of The Guards who once pulled me away from the street at the market just moments before a passing horse trampled me.

He still had that scowl about him. So I apologized again. "I'm very sorry. I-I-I can pay for your shirt... Um..."

The Balrog Slayer lifted his hand, silencing me. "Just watch where you're going next time. Again," he added the last part with still a bit of annoyance.

"I'm so sorry. Please let me pay for your ruined shirt," I insisted.

"No need. This can easily be washed."

"That much stain?" I said with a chagrin.

"Elven silk," he stated matter of factly.

"Oh. Oh!"

Well shirt. Not just normal elven fabric, but elven silk. Resistant to stain, expensive as heck, fit for a king. I would probably need to empty my savings and work at the tavern again for another few months just to cover a price of that shirt.

He was leaving then, making me feel somewhat relieved but a little bit bad about myself, until I remember that I had a more important matter to attend to.

A dwarf needs to answer to his crime.

***

[Author's Note: What do you think of the chapter so far? Please let me know if you want to see more of this story! R&R! Stay healthy and happy!]