A/N: This is something I am absolutely new to. I am strictly Potter because that is all I have ever known. If I write a fanficiton it is always within that fandom because I know most about it but recently I've been studying a lot of Tolkien and I have been reading his books. I have been wanting to write this story for a while and it moves a long rather quickly because it is a short story. I almost turned it into a small novel but I am working on my other story. So I apologize for any grammar mistakes that this may hold. I am fairly good at Language Arts but when I'm in a hurry to type a story my grammar is quite lazy. I have noticed that this fandom is also prone to millions of Mary Sues that everyone seems to really hate. I can assure you my character is not a Mary Sue. First off her name is Wilson. I try to make stories as original as possible since it's so hard to find original ideas. If you like this story than check out my other story 'Hopeless Wanderer'. It is a Harry Potter fanfiction so if you love Harry Potter go read it. It would be greatly appreciated.

Wilson Bridges lived on a plain corner in a plain city within a plain lain continent. Well, actually not a plain continent mind you, not with all the riots, wars, and national threats. But in the area where Wilson lived it seemed that the whole world passed by without a single footprint in the yard right outside her neighbours', the Murphys, immense yard. Their yard made up half the population of Jollybrooke.

Everyone around Wilson was absolutely boring. They were much too normal and didn't much care for those who were weird in every way. Therefore, Wilson wasn't exactly accepted through town. Wilson Bridges is a girl despite her name. Her actual name is Amelia, but that was an awful name to which you should never call her. Jollybrooke was populated with approximately 878 people with blond or brown hair. This was a dreadful complication because Wilson unfortunately had been born with bright red hair. You can imagine how bewildered her parents must have been when she was born. John and Amy Bridges hadn't had a red coloured relative in over a hundred years.

From the age of one, Wilson had proved to be a bright child. Her vocabulary had broadened and she spoke scholarly compared to the other children's 'da-da's' and 'mummy's'. John Bridges began to read to her chapter books because Wilson grew tired of all the Dr. Seuss books and 'The Three Little Pigs'. Mrs Bridges begged of her husband to just continue with the little books for Wilson's age or the neighbours may talk. To which John had replied that that was complete bollocks and their daughter was perfectly normal thank you very much. To hell with the bloody neighbours!

So from then on Wilson grew up to be the cultured infamous child of the Bridges. It was such a lonely life. You see, Wilson's peers thought she was absolutely barking thanks to their parents' gossip.

"Why can't you be normal like your brothers," Danny Turners asked her one day. Wilson's brothers played rugby on the team up at the big school. The women of the town thought of the Bridges boys as respectable and good prospects for their daughters. The Bridges were a respectable family except for their odd daughter.

Wilson shrugged. "I'm not exactly sure. That's a matter you should bring up with God."

Danny crinkled his nose in disgust. "How odd. What your neighbours must think of you! I'd sure hate to live next to you."

"My father always says 'to hell with our bloody neighbours' I don't think he'd much like you to live next to us either." She answered quite bluntly. Danny's eyes grew round the size of a gaping fish's. He told the teacher and the Bridges received a phoning that night.

"John, what are we to do with her," Mrs Bridges sighed putting a kettle of tea up on the stove.

"Oh, for Christ's sake! There is nothing wrong with her!" Shouted Mr Bridges slamming his hand against the kitchen table.

"She hasn't got any friends, John! Mrs Billow said she doesn't get on very well with the other children," Mrs Bridges cried slumping forward across the counter.

"Doesn't get on or maybe doesn't like her?" Mr Bridges crossed his arms. Wilson listened from upstairs. There was nothing wrong with her. Everything was perfectly normal right?

No. Something was not alright with her. In every story there is always something wrong whether it is perfectly cliche or something rather extraordinary Something has to go amiss. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you this story without losing your attention. Now, as long as Wilson pretended everything was alright and she was normal like everybody else would be a lie. She was clearly not alright. Wilson had a unique gift. Wilson could see fictional characters.

It was a secret gift of her's. At the age of six John Bridges had read 'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe' to her. Wilson remembered how sad she had felt for the littlest Pevensie, Lucy. Once John had finished a chapter, kissed and tucked her into bed, Wilson fed off of that sadness for Lucy. As she finally grew tired of moping about for the fictional girl and was about to nod off she saw her night light flickering out of the corner of her eye. Deciding that she absolutely could not make it another night without it she crawled out of bed in search for her father to put in new batteries.

Wilson crept down the hallway when she heard soft weeping coming from behind the door to the toilet. She pushed it open and there in the bath stood a strange girl around her age. The girl glanced up bewildered to see someone and let out a cry before tumbling over the side of the tub.

"It's alright! It's alright," exclaimed Wilson, "I won't hurt you! For heaven's sake, I'm only six!"

The girl cautiously peeked around the curtain that shielded the bath from the rest of the room.

"I'm Wilson Bridges. Who are you and why are you in my home? Did Mum and Dad let you in for a pee?" Wilson inquired curiously.

"Y-Your home? This isn't Narnia?" The girl asked.

"Narnia? Don't be stupid. Narnia is in a book. It isn't real." Wilson laughed.

"It is so! You sound just like Edmond!" the girl angrily shot up off the ground. Wilson froze.

"Who are you?" She asked again a bit scared.

"Lucy Pevensie," the girl said, "I'm not exactly sure how I got here." Many things happened at once. Wilson's breath hitched in her throat. The empty sadness had returned. Wilson approached Lucy at the pace of a snail wary to touch her. But she did. She hugged Lucy tightly. Lucy froze in awe.

"Thank you," she said uncertainly not wanting to be impolite at this strange girl's actions. A blinding light flashed through her vision. Lucy had vanished. Wilson didn't have any time to react before she realized she was hugging nothing but air. Wilson stood there for a moment before silently going back to bed. Her night light had went out.

From that moment on she never told a soul what happened. As the years went by Jollybrooke began to avoid Wilson Bridges. She was old news. From then on Wilson read books constantly. She always read all the time. She had frequent visits from many of the characters that she grown attached to. She only saw them if not for a second then for a couple of hours. She only saw those she felt the most sorrow for. They were ripped from their stories at their most vulnerable points. From Harry Potter to little Amelia Pond. She would comfort them.

They had no idea who this girl was other than her name but they let her touch them. They let her whisper comfort into their ears. Years went by and the last character she had seen was Merlin, the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived. He had been the last one. It disappointed Wilson but she went on with her life. During the last year of school before she left for university, her day came for another long overdue visit.

The wind blew the coldest of airs and the earth was dark. Thunder crashed against the sky. Wilson felt it. She felt it in her bones and skin. Something was going to happen today. Wilson's parents had left to take care of Gran. Her brothers were off with their mates no doubt. Wilson was all alone for the day. She felt the wind shake her house and howl past her windows. She signed in boredom as she tossed 'The Return of the King' off to the side. At 17 she was finally able to read Tolkien's work with the appreciation that it deserved.

Wilson decided to make some hot chocolate because she didn't much care for tea anymore. She went into the kitchen and turned on the stove. She pulled out a small pot and the powder from the cabinets. She was about to pour some water into the small pot when she heard a loud boom rumble through the house and something thud against the door that led outside. She dropped the pot onto the floor startled. She ran to the door and hurriedly opened it thinking it was her parents back again. She let out a scream as a body of some sort sprawled out across her kitchen floor. She covered her mouth and prodded it with the tip of her toes. It let out a groan of agony. She bent down and pulled a green cloak out of the face. Dark tangled curls peeked from the arm that covered the face. She pushed away its arm and gasped. Bright blue eyes stared back at her in fright. The person cried out and began searching wildly for a weapon.

"Sam! Sam!" He cried. He kicked at the stranger. Wilson easily dodged his aim and scrambled back. She watched him as he flailed about.

'Frodo Baggins,' she thought to herself. 'Frodo Baggins is in my kitchen and he's trying to kill me.'

"SAM," he wailed covering his face in shame. He had sent poor Samwise away. He sobbed and covered his face with his hands attempting to wipe away his tears to no such avail. Something caught his eye as he looked over his body again. He screamed again as he caught sight of his feet. He violently tried to stand before his head slammed into the cabinet drawer Wilson had forgotten to close. He groaned and slunk against the floor wincing in pain.

"It's alright," the girl's soft voice reassured him, "things go a bit wonky when you're placed in my world. They'll go back to normal once you return."

Wilson crawled over to him. He watched her in fear. What witchcraft was this? "I'm Wilson. I have no intention to kill you or whatever." she held out a hand. He looked at it wide eyed but she kept it there in his face. He gently took it in his own. He held it there for a while before taking his other hand and inspecting her fingers. She giggled and he glared at her confused. What was so funny?

"You're supposed to shake it," she smiled. His expression softened.

"Shake?" he repeated softly. How curious. He let go of her hand and waved his arm. She gently reached out and stopped him. He snatched his arm back deciding he didn't like to be touched by her because now she was laughing at him. She didn't take any offense to his actions.

"You're cute. God, I've always wanted to say that to you," she said wiping away a tear away from her laughter.

Frodo pulled his feet under him and sat up on his knees avoiding the open drawer with ease. He was now self conscience that he no longer looked like a normal Hobbit. He looked over the girl. He blushed at her lack of clothing. They were the clothes of men and not of women. He put a hand to his chest.

"Frodo," he said slowly so she could understand him.

"I know." she said her grin growing impossibly wider. She stood up suddenly and shoved her hand in his face again. He looked at it apprehensively for a moment of indecisiveness.

"Am I supposed to 'shake' it again?"

"No. I'm helping you up. You don't look so good." she frowned looking at how dangerously thin he seemed and how yellow his skin was.

He took her hand and she pulled him up. He was now a head taller than she. "I liked you better when you were a Hobbit." she told him as he held her hand tightly.

"I am a hobbit, lady Will-son," he said slowly once more the name foreign on his tongue.

She smiled sadly. "Right you are," she led him into the sitting room and pulled him over to the couch. "Sit." she demanded. He sat and let go of her hand.

He watched amazed as she pulled a quilt off the back of the squishy soft chair. She wrapped it around his shoulders and hovered in front of his face. She looked extremely depressed now compared to how she had been laughing at him just a short bit ago. She stroked his left cheek soothingly. How long had it been since someone had touched him this way?

"Frodo Baggins, you amazing creature. If only you knew how loved you were by billions of people," she leaned dangerously close to where he could feel her warm breath against his lips.

"My lady, you act as if you have known of me my whole life." he whispered watching her cross eyed.

"I wish I had." she said honestly. She pulled back and wrapped the quilt tighter around him. She remembered that the stove was still on. "Stay. I'll be back." she ran her hands through his dirty curls and left to go back in the kitchen to make the hot chocolate that had been long forgotten.

Frodo Baggins was in a state of shock. He was absolutely frightened of the girl. How had he gotten here? What a mess he was in. He had sent Sam away, the creature Sméagol had betrayed him, and he was certainly at the brink of death right outside Shelob's lair. He had narrowly escaped the vile thing. He looked at his too small feet in wonder. He felt the soft wood beneath them. Such a new sensation this was. It scared him. Everything scared him. Frodo looked up when he felt a warm glass being pressed into his hands. The girl smiled down at him.

"Drink it. I promise I haven't poisoned it," she said awkwardly, "It'll warm you up better."

He looked at the liquid that stayed within the glass. It was a dark brown colour. Perhaps it was tea. He raised it up to his chapped lips and took a sip. Sweet milky liquid warmed the inside of his mouth. He made an unnatural sound in response to it. He sputtered and shoved the glass back at Wilson.

"What-is that?" he choked out, "That was not tea at all!"

Wilson set down the glass on top of the table beside the chair. Wilson glanced at the clock that sat above the television. It couldn't be much longer that he was allowed to stay. She ignored his protests and coughing. She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his neck. She felt him tense up. She knew she was overwhelming him but out of all the characters she had read about or felt the greatest of sadness for; Frodo Baggins's story was beyond the most depressing.

"Frodo, you do not know me for I am not apart of your world. You do not exist in mine. But you live in the hearts of many as I have said. When you feel most alone or when the darkest of times falls upon your world never forget that you are loved. You are not alone. You are absolutely amazing and a hero to many. Notging will ever be your fault. Frodo Baggins of Bag End, you will never be alone again." Wilson rose and pressed a kiss to his left pointed hear. She kept her forehead rested against his cheek and closed her eyes as she felt shaky breaths wrack through his chest. One lone tear fell from his left eye and drifted into Wilson's red hair. That was how they stayed for one whole hour. Hobbit and human. She rocked him gently and whispered words of comfort into his ear. Soft gentle whispers how everything was going to be alright and how he was going to be okay. For once since the burden had been placed upon him he felt at ease. In that moment he was not haunted but he was at peace.

But alas, good things come to an end and at a quarter till six Wilson felt the house shake. She had warning this time that he was leaving and her heart grew heavy. He was about to return to a burdened life. He felt her grip tighten around his shoulders and she buried her face deeper into his emerald cloak. He felt it began to dampen with her tears. This startled him from his current serenity.

"What is it that hurts you so sudden?" he asked quietly.

"You are leaving soon. You are to return back to Middle Earth," she cried. He found that he didn't want to leave just yet. He was to return to certain death but he knew he must or Middle Earth would fall.

"Lady Will-son?" he whispered gently tugging her face upward to meet his. "Thank you." he breathed. With every ending to every meeting this is how it ended. Just two words. Her tears came down harder. "Lady Will-son, I shall never forget you and the words you have given to me." He felt a rush of affection for this strange girl and brought his lips to her forehead. He pressed a small kiss to it before brushing his lips against her cheek collecting some of the salty tears there. It all started with her comforting them and it ended with them trying to help her let them go.

"Frodo Baggins, you amazing creature." she smiled and stroked his dirty curls one last time before standing from his embrace and turning her back. "I can't stand to see you vanish from me."

He smiled sadly before standing and placing hand on her shoulder. A blinding white light filled his vision and he was gone. She felt his hand go away and she let out a wail. It was hardest to let them go. She collapsed into the couch and pulled the quilt around her. She had always been most attached to the smallest of beings in the end.

When we are attached to a fictional character, we put them in our every day lives. We began to love them as if they are real when we are trying to run from the real world. They are more real to us than the people around us. When we have to accept life and move on it is much more harder for us in the end to let them go than it is for them to set us free.

A/N: So how was it? This is so different than anything I have ever written. I almost turned this into a novel as I have said. But thank you for reading this. I will go back to my other story soon. I apologize once again for any grammar slaughters I might have done. Which was probably so many. I should do this again sometime :) Please review to your heart's content!

A/N #2: I am currently in the long process of rewriting this story. Until it is finished I will leave the original product up. It may take a while because I would like to make this a tad bit longer and more detailed. I would also like to erase any hinted or beginning elements of Mary Sue from Wilson (this was brought up by a reviewer and it has bothered me because I don't want her to even have minor qualities of a Mary Sue. Which by the way, thank you very much reviewer to bringing this to my attention). I would also like to make this story some what book-verse instead of movie-verse. I made it movie-verse because everyone has seen the movies. I'm not exactly happy with this and it is back up in shop to work on some more. Thank you to all who has read this, faved, and reviewed.