Chapter Text
Mariam woke up to the scent of pine and earth.
Her head throbbed. A dull, aching pulse settled behind her temples, making it hard to think. She blinked up at the canopy above her—titanic trees towered over her, their enormous trunks stretching skyward, their deep green needles forming a thick lattice that filtered the golden sunlight. Everything was too still, too quiet—no distant hum of traffic, no cicadas buzzing in the heat.
Just the soft murmur of wind through branches and the crisp scent of something fresh and unfamiliar in the air.
She pushed herself upright, wincing as her palms pressed into soft moss.
Mariam froze. Her breath hitched as her mind struggled to process what she was seeing.
This wasn’t the street she had walked home on. There was no pavement. No houses, no fences, no parked cars. No power lines cutting through the sky.
Instead, there was forest. And not just any forest, pristine, untouched wilderness.
Mariam staggered to her feet. She turned in a slow circle, heart pounding.
The trees were colossal, nothing like the gum trees and wattles she was used to. Their trunks were thicker, darker, red-hued, their bark deeply grooved and ancient-looking.
And the green, God, the green . She had never seen vegetation this vivid before.
The bush was subtle, muted—dull greens, soft greys, earthy browns. It had an old, sunbaked beauty, one she had never questioned before. But this—this was something else entirely.
Here, every leaf glowed. The ferns were huge, their emerald fronds arching over the forest floor like they had never known drought. Moss coated everything, thick and lush, as if the earth had been freshly made and had never been trampled by human feet.
It was untouched. Untamed.
The air itself felt different. Lighter, maybe? Fresher? There was no trace of smoke, no scent of dry bark or eucalyptus oil hanging in the breeze.
And the birds.
Mariam had grown up with magpies warbling in the morning, the shrieking of cockatoos,and the occasional kookaburras cackling at dusk. But these birds… their songs were foreign, trilling, ringing, high and clear. Not a single sound was familiar.
She swallowed hard. Where the hell was she?
A national park? That had to be it. Some big, remote national park.
But how?
Her last memory was stepping off the school bus, walking home. The pavement had been hot under her shoes. She had been thinking about dinner. Then, nothing.
Her stomach twisted, an anxious chill spreading through her limbs. She wasn’t just lost. This was wrong.
"Hello?" Her voice came out uncertain, barely more than a whisper. She cleared her throat and called louder. "Hey! Anyone?"
Silence. The forest didn’t answer.
A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She needed to find someone. A ranger, a bushwalker, anyone who could explain what was going on.
Mariam adjusted her bag strap and picked a direction at random, pushing forward. She walked for what felt like ages. No signs, no paths, no distant hum of cars. Just endless trees.
"Hello?" she called again. "Is anyone out here?"
Nothing.
Her stomach twisted again.
Maybe she had fallen and hit her head. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe—
A flicker of movement, Mariam froze. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she turned toward it—a shape between the trees, barely visible through the ferns.
She exhaled sharply.
Slender legs, a graceful, dappled body, large, dark eyes watching her warily. A deer.
Mariam stared, stunned, it was so much bigger than she expected. Its ears twitched, muscles taut, ready to flee.
And then, something else moved. A whisper of motion behind her, barely a sound, but enough.
Mariam spun around, a shriek escaping her throat as a man suddenly appeared in front of her, startling her.
He was tall—perhaps the tallest person she had ever seen—at least a few heads higher than her. A certain luminescence seemed to radiate from beneath his pale skin, an eerie glow that made him look almost ethereal. Loose blonde hair cascaded down his back, reaching his waist, its colour like molten gold.
Mariam locked eyes with him. His large gray eyes were narrowed, the strange catchlights in them only just visible. His flawless skin and symmetrical features were marred only by the furrow of his brows. They stared at each other in silence, neither willing to give in. The only sign of tension was the man’s hand, twitching ever so slightly toward the pommel of his sword.
The fuck does he have a sword for?
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken challenge. They were sizing each other up, waiting for the first move.
“Suil.”
The words shattered the silence.
Mariam’s mind slammed into a wall. What?
His gaze shifted, eyes flicking over her from head to toe. His hand no longer hovered over his weapon, though his posture remained taut, as if he were still deciding whether or not she was a threat.
“Ma len?” he said.
“I don’t understand.”
His eyes widened slightly, his brows lifting in mild surprise. “Pedhil edhellen?”
She recognized the cadence of a question. Her lips pressed together, anxiety curling in her stomach, and she shook her head softly.
He sighed at that, pinching the bridge of his nose. At least his posture seemed to unwind, finally.
His gaze softened as it settled back on her. His expression betrayed only concern, though his eyes gleamed with something sharper, curiosity. Any trace of hostility had vanished.
Then, to her shock, he lowered himself to the ground in a fluid motion, crouching before her with effortless grace.
Mariam blinked, taken aback. A scowl formed between her brows as she instinctively shuffled back, unsure whether to feel alarmed or deeply offended.
The strange man gave her a gentle smile, clasping his hands loosely by his knees.
“Ma i eneth dhîn?” His tone was insistent as he pointed at her with a long, outstretched finger, his eyebrows raised.
Mariam flinched at the gesture, something deep in her instincts recoiling. There was something wrong about him, something she couldn’t name.
Her lips parted in understanding. Hesitantly, she pointed at her own chest, mimicking him. “…My name?”
“Naw, pincë.” He nodded encouragingly, his disarming smile growing.
Mariam shifted uneasily, hesitating. His bright, unnerving eyes flickered as if lit from within. “M—Mariam,” she murmured, still watching him warily.
He blinked, his expression darkening. “Mariam.” He repeated her name with unsettling ease, his brows knitting together, his face suddenly solemn.
Mariam nodded awkwardly, glancing down at her feet.
“I eneth lîn dírphed.” He mumbled something at her, his tone softer now. Then, he moved closer.
Mariam tensed, startled. Her breath hitched as she instinctively backed away, her muscles tightening like a coiled spring.
But the man either didn’t notice or didn’t care. His bright eyes gleamed with unsettling intensity as he studied her, gaze burning with something between fascination and revelation.
Now she knew what a cat felt like when she cornered it in the street to pat it.
He stopped just a breath away, his expression almost childlike in its eagerness. Then he pointed at her again. “Atan?” His voice held something dangerously close to excitement.
Mariam’s patience frayed. Her scowl deepened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “My name is Mariam,” she said again, voice hardening.
The man blinked, his lips parting slightly as he stared at her blankly. Then, like a wounded animal, he looked down at the ground, his brows drawing together in something oddly fragile.
An awkward silence followed.
Then, just as quickly, his face lit up again, his radiant smile returning with even greater enthusiasm. God, if this wasn’t the most expressive man she had ever seen…
“Im, Findaráto Ingoldo Arafinwion, Golodhren, caun nost Finwë, Aran Nargothrond.” He pointed to himself as he spoke, his voice taking on a rich, melodic quality. He tilted his chin up slightly, his words infused with pride, but still warm.
Mariam blinked. Huh? She had half a mind to understand that he was introducing himself, but the name was lost in the flood of unfamiliar words.
The man’s face fell slightly as he studied her reaction. Then, slower this time, he pointed to himself again.
“Findaráto.”
Mariam opened her mouth to respond, but her mind slammed into another wall. Something familiar hovered at the edges of her thoughts.
Findaráto.
Her breath caught. And then, realization struck her like a hammer. He was introducing himself as Finrod Felagund. By his Quenya name.
Mariam burst into laughter. Loud, hysterical laughter. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. If it had been any other situation, the teenager would have been mortified at the idea of laughing in a stranger’s face. But this? This was too much.
The man looked at the ground, eyes brimming with hurt, clearly uncomfortable with her reaction. Silently, he tucked his long hair behind his ear, swallowing before glancing at her with a scowl.
“Edílel, Mariam?” His tone was tinged with offense, fixing her with a stern look.
But Mariam didn’t notice his reaction—something else had caught her eye. The tips of his ears, now uncovered, were pointed .
She stared at them intently, a deep frown forming on her face. A mix of emotions overcame her—first, outrage at the audacity of this strange man to be so deep in playing pretend that he was wearing prosthetics. Then, unease. What if he was actually insane? How deep did his delusion go?
As confusion settled in, her gaze sharpened. She took a long, scrutinizing look at him, her eyes drinking in every detail.
His hands—though large—were unnaturally long and slender, with not a single visible hair on them. His face was too smooth, lacking stubble, not even a five o’clock shadow. No peach fuzz, nothing. And, most alarmingly, his enormous form made him so oddly proportioned, in a manner that she sure wasn’t possible.
The pointed expression wiped off the man’s face. His features softened into a gentle frown, his bright eyes tinged with unease as he watched her gape at him.
Mariam took a slow step forward, utterly transfixed. She only made it a few steps before the man shifted back slightly, blinking. She halted, the air between them thick with a subtle tension. Slowly, she leaned forward, her lips parting as she met his gaze up close.
His eyes were shining from within—not just reflective like an animal’s, but something more. The brightest grey she had ever seen.
The catchlights weren’t just white smudges. They were pinpricks of light, clustered together like stars, reflecting something back that wasn’t there.
A slow, sinking feeling settled in her gut. A deep, wordless foreboding surfaced from the depths of her mind, something her rational thoughts couldn’t quite grasp.
And yet, she kept moving forward. She didn’t want to, but something pulled her. She came to a stop right at his feet. Face to face now.
The man watched her warily, his unease deepening—as if she were the unpredictable one.
But Mariam didn’t notice.
She didn’t notice the subtle twitch of his fingers toward his blade, or the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly.
“Mariam?”
She ignored him. Raising a hand, she reached toward him.
The man tensed. He lifted his own hand in anticipation, ready to intercept.
But she didn’t stop at his face. Her fingers bypassed his cheek and settled on the outer shell of his ear. She traced it gently, her touch feather-light.
He flinched, just barely, before tilting his head slightly—just enough to glance at her.
Mariam’s fingers tightened. Then, without warning, she clamped down on the tip of his ear—and gave it a firm, sharp tug.
“Ai!”
The man yelped, an undignified, startled noise, so different from his usual silvery voice. He flinched, wincing as he instinctively shoved her hand away.
Mariam recoiled as if burned. She stumbled over her own feet, landing on her back with a hard thud before scrambling backward, arms braced behind her.
Raw, primal terror surged through her, clawing its way into every corner of her mind. It felt like it was eating her alive as she realised the horrific truth; who, or what she was talking to was decidedly not human
Her wide eyes locked onto him, pupils quivering. The blood drained from her face so fast she looked sallow, jaundiced. Her entire body began to tremble, her lungs heaving, struggling to pull in air.
“Ai, milya, milya.”
The thing murmured, still clutching his assaulted ear with a mildly wounded expression before glancing back at her.
“Mariam?”
He paused, his too-bright, inhuman eyes peering down at her. His brow furrowed in something that might have been concern—if he was human.
He studied her intently, analyzing her body language as if calculating his next move. Then, slowly, he took two measured steps toward her, moving as if she were a cornered animal.
Mariam let out an earsplitting scream.
The thing froze mid-step, wincing at the sound.
All reason abandoned her. She scrambled to her feet in blind panic, spinning on her heel and sprinting for her life.
“Mariam!”
A voice called from behind her, but she didn’t stop. Her feet pounded against the soft forest floor. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, blood rushing wildly through her veins. Her lungs ached from exertion.
“Mariam! Daro!”
Footsteps pounded behind her, heavy, wide-striding. She choked on a shuddering sob as they gained on her.
A blur of gold flashed beside her, the thing, running effortlessly besides her, his long legs carrying him forward with terrifying ease.
Mariam glanced up at him with wide, panic-stricken eyes. Her face contorted in horror.
She veered sharply, spinning on her heel. The thing lunged for her arm, just barely missing.
“Listo!”
She ran into the trees—straight over the edge of a sudden drop. The ground vanished beneath her feet.
She fell. Tumbling, rolling like a ragdoll down the steep hillside.
A sharp crack rang out as she hit something hard—then everything went dark.