1 | It's a Small World

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Location: Unknown

Time: Unknown

Uncle Wong told her a few things when it came to crashlanding into a new world, reality, or dimension.

Well, not really. He wrote it down in a piece of parchment paper – neat in Sanskrit – with perhaps some BIC pen he had lying about. (He hated BIC pens; preferred a proper fountain pen or quill but he hadn't had time to pick up some ink pots downtown. So, he was stuck using one of her own favourite stationery pieces.) [1][2]

After pestering the sorcerer to answer her questions, he finally had enough and wrote some suggestions. (It was only several years later that she realised he wasn't being serious.)

The top of the list was put simply:

Remember your name, and where you are from.

Illyria wasn't sure as to why Uncle Wong put it there at first, but the moment she woke up with her face up and her back flat on the ground as well as the worse headache since her first hangover: she now understood why he put it there. She first tried to open her eyes, but all she could see was tiny speckles of light. Trying to twitch her fingers, she gently practised her muscles before retracting her hand. Next was her arms: and moving those was a bad idea. The moment she tried to lift her right hand up, a fire somehow erupted up her side until it burnt her head. Illyria's eyes rolled back before the speckles of light disappeared.

The next time she woke up, she could sense something wet against her cheek. Her face scrunched, moaning in her sleep as she tried to shake her head to the side against the weird touch. As soon as a warm breath hit her face, Illyria quickly grew to her senses and opened her eyes. A gasp came out of her mouth but quickly grew to noise of disgust as it licked her cheeks.

Leaning down to her face was a pony.

So, Illyria did the first thing when it came to seeing one: she squealed.

First things first, Illyria never met a horse in her entire life. Kamar-Taj was situated at an altitude that hardly needed any ridden animal. Yes, there were some down in the city and the villages nearby had some mules and donkeys. But a fully grown pony right beside her was not her agenda. (Even then, Illyria has seen what horses and ponies were like. Mostly scouring the internet when the Masters of Kamar-Taj wasn't checking her search history as a child).

Somehow this was what she woke up to. 'At least this world has something familiar to mine. Wherever this was.' Illyria muttered a curse, trying to brush away the head of the animal before rolling to her side with all the power she had. She huffed and took a deep breath, gradually pushing her arms up against the grassy ground before she sharply inhaled.

Another surge of pain went up to her legs, but she managed enough to get on her knees. At that moment, the small grey pony snorted – making Illyria glare at the animal.

She asked the pony, "What are you so amused about?" She got another sniffing noise before she continued, "You're not the one in great pain after creating a damn portal."

The pony grunted, before nudging its nose against something. Her pack, or what seemed to be what is left of it.

"Yes, you're talking to an animal," She grumbled. "Honestly, I really don't need this right now."

Illyria finally got the chance to study her surroundings, discovering that she found herself in some clearing. Around her, there were large oak trees, with some bushes and flowers. The grass below her was green and fresh, moist by morning dew. When she peered up to the sky, she found a beautiful canopy of leaves and branches – speckles of white clouds beyond. To say it was like Central Park would be insulting this place, wherever this place was called.

The pony was smaller than she thought once she wobbled to her feet, her boots clearly battered by where she previously was. When she dusted her gloved hands, Illyria frowned at the soot and ripped parts of her clothes. Her belt with her pouch and holster left intact. Her hooded cloak was nothing by a strip of fabric, torn beside the bag as well with all of her belongings. Illyria rushed over as fast as she could, shooing the pony away to grab her bag and see its contents.

When she sighed in relief to see her staff and daggers there, though disappointed that they were shattered. The staff itself needed some repairs whilst the daggers could hardly be fixed. Alongside this, she found her phone at the bottom of the bag, tucked with her purse, makeup bag and an extra bag of Doritos Darcy decided to shove in. (Darcy tended to dot her with too many snacks and not enough band-aids and painkillers, resulting to her to get more open cuts from missions than any paper cut). [3]

Everything else seemed to have been lost since her journey here, Illyria guessed. With the only things she had seen she shoved them all in her bag, flexing the stiff ring on her finger. Once she stood up, she closed her eyes and shuddered out a deep breath.

"Okay, what's the first thing Uncle Wong told me to do," Illyria muttered to herself. "I am Illyria, and I am from New York, Earth."

She repeated the same sentence repeatedly, her memories coming back at the last time. Illyria could remember the last voice she once heard before entering a void and probably falling for ages.

Her entire body could shatter any moment, but Illyria knew she had to move to somewhere safer. She had no idea which dimension, planet, or reality she landed and sling-ringing back with the energy of a dead battery was practically committing suicide. She had to find some shelter first.

Her stomach rumbled, causing the pony to neigh back.

"I don't really talk to animals that much," She said, approaching the wondering animal with caution. To her surprise, the pony wasn't bothered by her touch, almost purring (do pony's purr?) at her hand. "But one thing we both know is that you can't carry me."

And the pony could agree if it could connect with her mind. But animals were the hardest to connect to in Illyria's opinion. She could connect her thoughts to humans – she even once mind-read to a talking tree which was weird as hell – quite easily, but animals were harder. Maybe it was to do with the type of species? She wasn't sure. Even Uncle Wong or The Ancient One understood how a young girl could possess natural telepathic abilities.

Instead, she slung the bag over the pony's back and carefully wrapped her stronger arm around its neck. As she decided to herself which way to go, she nudged the pony down the forest to try and find some sort of civilisation.

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Illyria could not believe her eyes.

Right in front of her could be anything. New Zealand for all she cared. But to actually see a real life-sized hobbit skipping down a path with those big hairy feet could probably sweep Black Widow off her feet (not that the Black Widow would allow anyone to do that, and she would probably never have seen one at all after...after Thanos-).

Her first instinct was to assume she was in Hobbiton: Hobbiton in New Zealand in specific.

Dad had taken her there a month ago for some mission, something to do with some rogue sorcerers scaring the tourists and pretending to be Gandalf the Grey. Apparently, anyone with the training of the Mystic Arts wasn't supposed to use their magic to achieve their LARPing dream, and that left both a sad Illyria and an annoyed Darcy after Dad found them rein-acting the scene when Gandalf faced the Balrog. (He was not happy that she was using her magic to create illusions in the front of the Sanctum and trying to fit a giant creature of darkness in the tiny brownstone building.) [4]

It took her about a few seconds to adjust before her equestrian friend got impatient and tugged her, forcing her to stumble and get dragged towards the small town.

Hobbiton in her world was fairly small, with some homes decorating the hillside along with the Hotel where visitors would reside to see where Peter Jackson made a small part of a world come to life. However: to see it really her in flesh and blood could bring anyone to shock.

Illyria had discovered a real world, with a real Hobbiton.

'If I am in Hobbiton, that means I'm in the Shire...' Illyria thought, watching a small hobbit child giggle away whilst getting chased by her friend. 'So that means I'm...I'm in Middle Earth.'

Her body jerked back, annoying the pony leaned against her. A sudden cold feeling was felt in the tips of her toes, coming up until she stared out.

Out of all the realms she has learnt since a child, listening to The Ancient One's lessons, sitting with Masters of the Mystic Arts and learning alongside her Dad: Illyria didn't expect to land in a land that she first discovered in a book. Uncle Wong always told her that the Multiverse itself was continuously growing, creating timelines and world and realities. So, she could justify how Middle Earth could be possible to enter from their point of view.

But why here? She asked herself as she continued down the dusty road, idling about until she didn't notice herself tripping over her feet.

Her knees scraped the ground, and she hissed – gritting her teeth before grasping the ground with her hands. Her eyes fell over her right hand; the sling ring still on her two fingers. Before she got up, she found a shadow overlook her. Illyria's instinct was to jab at their knees and scramble up to her feet.

However, that familiar voice almost caused her to falter.

"Are you alright, miss?" They asked, looking down at her.

Illyria's eyes slowly panned upwards, removing her gaze away from their large hairy feet to green eyes on a kind small face. She let out a gasp, getting up to her feet. Her sudden jump of action caused the pony to shriek in shock, shaking its head before bolting away. Her bag thumped on the ground and Illyria quickly grabbed it before the person before she did. Once she returned her eyes back to them, she had to snap her thoughts back.

The hobbit widened his eyes but didn't hesitate to reach out his arm the moment she wobbled on her feet. As she was about to speak, her hand reach to grab her head and felt dizzy. Illyria shouldn't have gotten up so quickly and having the poor shorter hobbit grasp (and almost get squished) her arm to steady her.

Illyria thought she was fine – tended to find herself in circumstances that got her head physically or mentally jumbled up. But not this, and especially embarrassing herself in front of the Bilbo Baggins.

Maybe it was the right time to faint.

"Oh, Yavanna! Why don't you sit down." The hobbit kindly began guiding her down the path, slower due to her own wobbling legs and Bilbo's own short ones. "My home is at the end of the road. I...If that's alright with you."

She glanced back to her side and heartedly replied, "That would be great, thank you."

They continued down the path, with the right side overlooking the rest of the town as it was. It was any other ordinary day for these people, and Illyria could sense a tranquil feeling wash over her to the chirping of birds and the playing laughter of children. Further up the hill, she could then recognise the familiar set (now entirely real as it is) enter her view. The famous wooden door that awed her even then.

Whereas she was feeling giddy on the inside, Illyria knew it would not be polite to make some small talk. And their first meeting was her almost collapsing on the hobbit. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are," She spoke, slowing down her steps.

The hobbit's curls almost bounced every step he took, those green eyes staring up to her with such natural curiosity she expected to see. He proudly introduced himself: "Bilbo Baggins, a pleasure to make your acquaintance miss...?"

"Illyria," She said with a staggering breath, smiling down at the famous hobbit (who seems to have yet become famous since she saw how young he was). "My name is Illyria Strange," She added, still feeling unfamiliar with the name as she clicked her tongue.

Bilbo seemed confused by her name, furrowing his eyebrows as he turned to the gate to open the latch. (Okay, perhaps she should have stuck with the one name but oh well).

He clasped his hands, before bowing to her with a polite nod. "Well then, well met Illyria Strange."

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Bag End was exactly what she expected. Clearly out-shining what 'fake Hobbiton' had back in her world. Illyria just really wished it could have been at least four inches taller, not that she minded but perhaps those extra four inches could have stopped her from whacking her head at the top of the door. Or maybe she should blame her usual tall stature, she was taller than the average American woman and whenever she was with her dad and Darcy, poor Darcy looked like she was the child instead.

(If Darcy heard her thinking about this, Illyria knew she was going to spend the next weekend sorting through her data.)

Illyria didn't complain as much apart from making herself more concussed, which then led to Bilbo guiding her down to the sitting room to sit down whilst he went to get some tea. Everything still seemed pretty small, with little windows and chandeliers and a cute fireplace and all. Everything was a mixture of warm tone colours, with perhaps some silverware lying about that Illyria assumed not to touch.

Well, twelve years living in Kamar-Taj and eight years in the New York Sanctum Sanctorum pretty much told Illyria Strange not to touch anything that screams 'could possibly teleport, curse or trap you in an endless pit of doom'.

Anyways, lunch was a lovely affair.

The tea Bilbo had (she still can't believe she's having tea with a hobbit) was similar to the ones Kamar-Taj had – or something like that. It smelled herbal, maybe mint, she wasn't too sure, but she could feel the warmth almost ooze into her body. If she wasn't running in adrenaline, she could perhaps take a nap. But Illyria wasn't to fall asleep to the kind hobbit that took her in.

God, she realised what she was wearing. Her tattered clothes and bag with her unruly blonde hair that she couldn't remember when she last washed probably made her look like some tramp walking through the woods with a pony that bolted. (Speaking of the pony, she should probably find them and thank them. She wondered if they liked apples or carrots...)

Even she could tell from Bilbo's tight smile that he didn't want her sitting on his furniture with dirt and grime going everywhere. Illyria politely asked where the bathroom was after food, and he gladly took her down the corridor where she was able to sort through herself.

The moment she faced the mirror, Illyria was almost scared by her reflection.

She looked like she went to hell and back (not that she's visited hell, and she didn't think neither her dad nor Uncle Wong would even like to). Her forehead was swollen slightly, with a couple of cuts on her cheeks. When she went to pry off her cloak, robes, and armour, she winced at her aching muscles before seeing the physical results. More bruising and cuts. Where her armour and cloak were burnt was probably the most of her damage, and she was surprised she got out unscathed.

"I'm going to have some serious words to Mordo for teaching them the burning spell," She grumbled and hissed as she prodded at the red-hot wound. Illyria took a small breath, and carefully produce a dim white light at the tip of her fingers.

The white glow hovered over the wound, engulfing her upper arm. When the light dimmed away, her eyes hovered to a clear stretch of skin – no wound visible.

'God, I don't think I'll ever get tired seeing this...' Illyria thought.

Just in time as there was a gently knock at the door. Bilbo had spoken at the other side of the door that there were some spare clothes she could use, and Illyria smiled at the thoughtful gesture. She was not going to pass the chance for having clean clothes again, even if they were a bit tight around her.

Once she was done, she wandered to where she heard Bilbo speaking to someone else. She wrapped her tattered robe over Bilbo's borrowed clothes, clasping it with a belt before she turned around the corner (or curve? This smial doesn't seem to have corners.) and found him speaking in front of the door. They were speaking in a language she couldn't understand at all, and even she hadn't been able to learn any translation spells yet in her tutelage. [5]

Uncle Wong and Dad should teach her that next.

It was frustrating because she knew by Bilbo's awkward voice and the other hobbit's curious and awkward one that they were talking about her. That and because Bilbo glanced at his back to check she wasn't there. Bless the hobbit, Illyria had the lightest feet ever – and that said for her height.

When the door shut and Bilbo found her drinking the rest of her tea in the living room, she looked up to him and nodded.

Bilbo decided to take his afternoon tea. When she asked in curiosity why they were already having food after lunch, the hobbit explained their meal plan. Illyria widened her eyes and she grinned inwardly, remembering the key information. (She giggled in her head, as well memorising the funny scene in the movies when Pippin told Aragorn that they had two breakfasts.)

So, more food for Bilbo and more tea for her, Illyria decided to break the silence and asked him a question.

"When you went to talk to that person, um: how can I not understand. I thought we were speaking Westron or whatnot?" She asked.

Bilbo paused, carefully answering: "No?"

"Oh...sorry, I. You see I am not from here." Illyria answered, muttering an addition. "Well, not even strictly speaking land wise but-" She trailed off once she realised how clueless Bilbo was.

"Miss Strange," He began, but she shortly cut him off with a tightened smile. As much as she liked her name, hearing her name like that reminded her too much of the last six years.

Instead, she paused him and spoke, "You can call me Illyria, Mr Baggins."

The hobbit pulled a small smile, encouraging himself to add on. "Then you should call me Bilbo then." He placed his hands down to his lap, answering back, "Well, to answer your question. You're not speaking Westron at all."

Illyria quirked her head to the side and blinked. "So, what am I speaking in?" She wondered.

Bilbo answered, "Elvish. Specifically, Sindarin."

She might as well have choked on leaf juice if she heard that again. Did he just say Sindarin? What did that hobbit put in her tea? Was it even tea to begin with? [6]

Illyria should stop being so openly willing to drinking things people give her – especially after drinking the concoction her dad was a good smoothie.

'Well at least I didn't spit it out,' She thought, the back of her hand wiping some of her salivae off her chin.

She then found Bilbo looking at her with deep concern. "Are you alright, Illyria?"

Coughing back to clear her throat, she flashed a smile to assure him, "Yes. I'm fine. Don't worry Bilbo." Once she was done having her little mental freeze, Illyria carefully inquired. "Do you know the year then? Uh, Age."

That was what she remembered from the books. Though the first part of the Lord of the Rings did specify something about how the hobbits recalled the date from the Shire Reckoning...? She wasn't entirely sure. [7]

"2941 of the Third Age."

Illyria almost dropped the teacup when she recognised that date.

"Why do you ask?" Bilbo questioned, a sudden worry filling his head once Illyria set the tea down.

She took a deep breath, before forcing herself not to flee with a tight smile. "Might need a spare pipe if you have one," Illyria spoke.

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She wasn't sure if it was the pipeweed or just her own self-desperation for understanding that she practically revealed to Bilbo who she was and where she had come from. From how she got here and why she even was in the Alps in the first place. Not that the hobbit would understand anything to do with magic or the Mystic Arts, she was surprised he hadn't suggested for her to leave or kicked her out for possibly endangering him with her enigmatic presence.

Clearly, this was too obvious to not be a coincidence since Illyria knew to always be cautious for such details. Not since after what happened with Darcy's freelancing job in New Jersey last year. That was some nasty business to hear about after she discovered it through Dad after he had to go and wonder what the hell was going on.

Neither her dad nor Darcy mentioned to her what happened. Even Uncle Wong thought it wasn't her burden to deal with at the time. Though by her quick deductions, it was serious and clearly 'Sorcerer Supreme level' enough to catch her dad's eye.

So perhaps she might in this situation too. But Illyria's theory of this all being in her head was definitely out of the picture. She knew it was a different world despite not knowing how or why.

What truly struck her was the when.

She landed the year the hobbit, sitting before her, would pack his own bag to leave for an adventure with thirteen dwarves and a wizard – all to fight a dragon to get their mountain back. The Hobbit was a straightforward book to read after the original trilogy, and definitely longer to watch in the movies. Illyria did not like the sound of having to actually relive it after meeting the sweet gentle hobbit.

And it even got worse when she began telling Bilbo everything. How she was a sorceress who just happened to fight some other bad sorcerers and accidentally tripped herself up through a portal she made from haste. She rambled on about worrying if anyone would come and get her and how her dad would definitely remove her sling-ring for the next decade. (Not that he already missed five years of her life, but that might just fuel his own overprotectiveness).

The evening arrived unexpectedly, and Illyria had just finished talking and trying to inhale the smoke coming from the wooden object between her lips. After one large inhale, she coughed all the smoke out and made the worse disgusted noise she had made.

"I can tell you have never smoked pipe-weed before."

Bilbo stepped out of the door, holding a small plate of bread, cheese, smoked ham and biscuits. Illyria eagerly switched the pipe for the plate of food and thanked the hobbit. As Bilbo sat down next to her on the bench, she was surprised that he had come out after what she told him. Instead, he was here: after listening silently and attentively.

She eyed him as he puffed a perfectly round ring into the air from his pipe and shook her head, looking out into the landscape ahead.

Illyria said, "Just wanted to try it out. But yeah, hell no. We have these sort of things back in my world, but my fa- Stephen hates it. Destroys your lungs and you get a higher risk of lung cancer. Not that you guys know about cancer." Her mouth slammed shut before she mumbled, "Sorry, I ramble when I'm..."

"Upset?" He butted in, causing her to sheepishly nod. As she nibbled with her dinner, Bilbo put his pipe away and straightened his back with a stretch. "I understand what you're going through...I can't exactly translate it well to Sindarin. But something along the lines of distress."

A small smile crept on her lips, hidden by the bit of bread in front of her face.

She's never really had to be the damsel in distress. Illyria had only dived into battle once, and that already cost herself enough memories to possibly cram six hours of therapy in one sitting. This wasn't a distressing moment for her; only minor if she thought about it. But she assured herself and hoped for something good – even if she knew she'll have to return with more danger on her than anything.

"Yeah, we have a word for that back in my world." Illyria swallowed some ham (seriously, they cured ham here pretty well) before raising an eyebrow before him. "Honestly, I'm impressed that you're perfectly fine. After what you've heard out of my mouth, I must completely mad."

Bilbo let out a chuckle, raising his eyebrows high quickly as he remembered something. "You are not the only one that's stumbled in my way the past week." He laughed, "Some wizard thought to sweep me off into an adventure. Pah! Me? Never."

She lowered her cheese back down, hearing the piece of information enter her. If he meant the wizard as in...the wizard: did Gandalf already come to him and asked about the quest? And in this timeline (thankfully) Bilbo declined the offer and even decided to ignore it.

Oh, how naïve Bilbo Baggins.

However, staring down at the hobbit almost caused her to see something more of the hobbit. Illyria didn't have to be a mind-reader to tell that the person in front of her was not happy. Yes: Bilbo Baggins was comfortable with his lifestyle and life, but she knew he was not truly happy here.

Only after spending the afternoon with the hobbit told her much that Bilbo wanted action and change, not a cycle of domestic life in a large house on his own (well he won't be once Frodo comes to live with him, but that's another sixty/seventy years). She saw how intrigued he was of her, of her clothes and what she carried. Illyria wasn't oblivious when he spotted her with bruises over her arms during tea, hiding his gasp with a handkerchief.

And plus, out of all the hobbits that lived down this road: only Bilbo Baggins would be the one that acknowledged her and took her in. Not only he was a curious hobbit, but one that didn't shy away from the unknown.

That was when Illyria realised what Gandalf truly saw in Bilbo Baggins.

"You never know, perhaps it would be nice to see what's beyond where you live." She winked, gesturing out into the world beyond the gentle-rolling hills of the Shire. Even for herself, she was curious to see what was beyond and how similar it looked in the movies.

If she wasn't so limited in time to return, she would probably come back and explore.

Luckily, it was the right time that Bilbo changed the subject. "So you are from another world. How?" Finally, he asked the question. "That seems so far-fetched. Pardon me, Illyria."

And there's the denial.

Illyria was patient, but she wasn't that patient to have to repeat everything she just rambled. Also, she probably would get told off by Uncle Wong if someone knew about her and her powers.

Instead, she brushed it off, plainly putting it: "Bilbo, I arrived at your house wearing armour that is thin as linen and strong as metal. I carry a bag with daggers and this device." Illyria's mind quickly referred again back to the subject during lunch. "And now I speak, this elvish tongue?"

"Sindarin." He said again, and then quickly questioned back in alarm. "Did you just say armour and weapons?"

Illyria finished the plate of food (if she stayed, she would not complain about the meals). "Yeah, I know. Don't remind me." She then stood up from the bench, dusting crumbs off her lap before placing the plate. "I should be going. I think I'll be able to make it now."

"What do you mean?" The hobbit scrambled up beside her, looking up with wide eyes. "Are you a wizard as well?"

She quirked a smile, remembering another person that once called her that before.

"In a way." Illyria nodded her head curtly, speaking. "But thank you, Bilbo Baggins. And you never know, you might actually go on an adventure."

Bilbo realised the tone and his shoulders slackened, saddened by her quick departure. But he brushed it off quickly, chuckling back: "Believe me, I would not imagine myself leave the Shire any time soon."

She just gave a mysterious look to him, knowing well enough that won't be the case when the day arrives.

After grabbing her clothes in her bag with her staff, she put on her cloak and boots and stepped into the garden where Bilbo was still waiting for her.

God, Illyria would not want to see Bilbo's face once she created the portal.

"Alright then. Thank you, Master Hobbit." She then muttered to herself, raising her arms out. "Let's try this out."

Lifting her hand, she let her palm out with the sling ring on whilst the other began to draw circles. Illyria closed her eyes and concentrated, imagining the New York Sanctum before her like entering the front doors. She imagined the wooden old smell that lingered due to the dust and relics there.

As her mind began to do this, her other hand drew circles in front of her, hoping to see a golden spark forming.

But maybe it's been two minutes already, and nothing appeared.

Huh. That was not supposed to happen. Where the hell was the portal?

"...Is there something supposed to happen?" Bilbo asked behind her.

After one last concentration, Illyria let out an exasperated sigh. Her arms flopping down in defeat. "I can't...I can't portal," She said, not sure if it was to herself or the hobbit.

Why didn't it work? It should work. The sling ring didn't seem damaged, and she could tune with her Eldritch magic, casting a small shield in the bathroom before she left to get her clothes.

The sorceress noticed she was sitting on the ground, staring at her hands until a hand gently went to her shoulder.

"Illyria?" The hobbit called to her.

She continued to stare down at her hands. The sling ring shining before the moon above the sky. "No, that can't be." She looked up, asking herself. "It said I can portal back. Why...why can't it work?"

Of all times she learnt to use the sling ring she never had any trouble creating portals. She was a natural at it, annoying her dad when she first teleported from her bedroom to the kitchen because she was late for school.

And she can't simply teleport back home. Perhaps it was due to where she was? Did crossing a world meant she needed more energy to get back?

"Perhaps you need more rest, Illyria." Bilbo softly suggested, "I have plenty of room. You can stay. Not that I'm forcing you."

She took a sharp intake of breath, trying to calm herself despite her shaking hands. Illyria would not break. She can't. She was an adult for god's sake, and she needed to be brave. For herself and for her family.

Illyria shook her head, answering: "No, it's alright Bilbo. I can't impose-"

"I am insisting." Bilbo chided, letting her stand back to her feet with her bag still on the floor. "You do not know how to get home. The best course is to give you my home instead for the night."

She gazed down at Bilbo Baggins and wondered to herself how she managed to land with the best person she could ever ask for.

Kindly, she replied. "Thank you, Bilbo. I'll try to repay you with something."

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Illyria didn't sleep that night. Instead, her body did, though with her knowledge of the Astral dimension [8] she was able to pace about the large smial and plan out why she couldn't portal her way back. It was pointless to use her phone, knowing that there wasn't any reception to pick up. So she sat in silence fiddling with the hem of her clothes she borrowed before huffing up to her feet. If she was to stay here until she could find a way, she might as well be productive.

The entire night, she fixed most of her armour and clothes back to their original state – slightly poorly due to her depleted strength, but it made do. Her daggers on the other hand were gone, not worthwhile to fix using some runes and spells. Instead, she placed it into her pocket dimension along with her wallet.

She stopped when she held her Stark phone. 

Battery was almost gone, so she took a quick look at her photos to remember herself. There was a picture of her graduating, the youngest in her year to get a bachelor's degree in Astrophysics and Astronomy. Next was a photo of her, Darcy and Uncle Wong at Tony Stark's wedding, with her uncle wearing a black tux, Darcy with her beautiful red fitted dress whilst she herself was fitted with a dark navy dress.

It was the next photo that drew her into her mind. It was her last photo with her, her dad and Darcy. They went to London to visit some museums (and also for her dad to check how the sanctum was fairing) and had a day filled with Darcy's brash and snippy quips and her dad's dry humour.

Illyria found tears falling on the screen, and she turned off her phone as she shut her eyes. She missed them so much. Their weird and small family. Even then, she also missed Tony Stark too. The man that possibly helped her cope through the entirety of her teenage years, helping them to bring up Morgan for that matter.

The phone entered her pocket dimension and she pulled herself out of her astral projection – letting physical tears fall onto the soft pillows.

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[1] - Sanskrit is a Classical language of Indian and the liturgical language of Hinduism. Most commonly part of the curriculum when learning the Mystic Arts.
[2] - BIC pens are the cheap plastic ballpoint pens you get in a pack of 10 or 20 or more. They're tacky in Wong's opinion and possibly the life source for Illyria during her years in school and university.
[3] - A Crisps/Chip brand. You can choose what flavour she likes.
[4] - Live-Action Role-Play.
[5] - A Smial aka a Hobbit Home and its proper name for it.
[6] - Sindarin is one of the Elven languages made by Tolkien and the more common one spoken during this Age of Middle Earth.
[7] - Shire Reckoning is the calendar hobbits used based on when two Fallohide brothers crossed the Brandywine River in 1601. (I couldn't be bothered to do the math).
[8] - Astral Dimension or Plane coexists in the Material Plane and allows them to leave their physical body.

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A/N: Literally falling into the Shire we have our lovely protagonist, Illyria Strange. And was based off on my own gen z persona and ability to make things existential. There's going to be a lot of references that I'll put in but overall will just be typical as always.

Edited: 08/04/21