Chapter Text
The dim glow of streetlights outlined the entrance to the Natural History Museum. It wasn’t grand like the one in London, but it held an impressive scientific collection for such a small, rundown, musty place. Most of the structure lay in darkness, except for the ichthyology department, where a young biologist was hunched over jars of specimens and dusty printed identification papers.
The museum had a park-like structure, with a grove of native trees, all older than the city itself, encircled by a sturdy metal fence. A walking trail wound through the trees and ended in a small, flower-lined square. The main building housed the exhibitions, administration, and library, while the less glamorous work happened farther back, by the employee's parking lot: taxidermy and fauna rescue (unrelated but equally smelly). Paralel to that the scientific collections were split between two separate buildings: one for dry specimens, another for wet.
Most of Sage’s time was spent in the wet collection. It was rather macabre, but a treasure trove nontheless, animals preserved in alcohol jars lined rows and more rows of shelves. A thick layer of mold covered the lids and etiquets, moisture dripped from the ceiling and covered the walls, lined in layers of green and black mold and spiderweb. So much for working at public science facilities in a developing contry. As a biologist, she worked in both herpetology and ichthyology, tackling her master’s degree sprinting toward a certain burnout. Her primary duties involved maintaining the collection: Cleaning and refilling jars, replacing labels, and guarding borrowed specimens with the ferocity of a dragon hoarding gold. It was common that scientists that came to the museum to analize creatures for their papers, often did not return them, her former mentor often left the borrowed-things-book unkempt for. Wich caused her to take quite the drive around the city in order to have them back.
But who was Sage? The most anxious biologist ever to survive academia. After her mentor retired, she’d been given her own set of keys to the collection, where she often stayed late, lost in thought, humming along to loud music while meticulously organizing the chaos left by the ones who came before her.
On this particular Friday night, Sage was in full panic mode. She’d recently been hired by a private university to organize their scientific collection, only to find it in shambles: jars leaking, labels missing, and specimens mislabeled in ways that bordered on crime. Declining the job wasn’t an option with the money they offered, so here she was, at eleven o’clock, copying papers she’d need for the daunting task ahead. Her earbuds blasted music as she worked, oblivious to the world outside.
Finally done for the night, Sage had parked her car in the employees’ lot on the far side of the grove, and though during the day it was a pleasant walk, at night it was rather unsettling. She turned off the building’s lights, plunging everything into darkness, save for the faint streetlights peeking through the trees. Her phone was dead, and she hadn’t thought to grab a flashlight. It was not the first time this had happened, typical.
Draped in a loose black sweater, its sleeves slipping as she clutched a precarious stack of papers, Sage began her walk through the dirtpath. Her hair was tied in a neat bun with two braids of purple yarn and beads at the nape of her neck, though a few twigs had managed to tangle in it during the day. Her bag, filled to the brim with notebooks, her laptop, a thermos of coffee, her neatly organized pencil case, with needles and plyers, heavy with everything she might need to survive a day in her job. It jolsted uncomfortably on her side, thudding against her hip with each step.
At the final stretch of trail, the parking lot lights came into view. Did they? Sage squinted behind her round, thin glasses. The lights seemed to shrink, growing dimmer and more distant with every step. She paused, the papers slipping slightly in her grip. Her heart skipped as she glanced back at the trail behind her.
Nothing but shadows and trees. Still, the hairs on her neck prickled.
Shaking her head, she tought, “It’s just late, and I’m tired.” Picking up her pace, the rhythmic crunch of twigs underfoot now sounding uncomfortably loud. The grove seemed darker than before, the trees seemed to press closer, reaching for her clother like little creepy claws.
A sound almost made her break into a jog, faint but distinct. The shuffling came from behind her, something brushing against leaves. Sage’s pulse quickened as she spun around, eyes scanning the darkness.
“Hello?” She called, voice cracking slightly. No answer, she shuddered, it could be nothing, or it could be a man. Someone could have jumped over the fence to steal the wiring, hopefully they were after just the wiring, she trembled at the tought. Just the faint rustling of the wind through the trees… or something else. Clutching her bag tighter, she turned back toward the parking lot and finally broke into a jog. The papers she’d worked so hard to organize spilled from her grasp, fluttering to the ground like ghostly leaves, but she didn’t slow down. She didn’t dare.
“The light must have burned.” She thought.
But as the darkness settled in, it sunk into her like a heavy blanket, bringing her to a complete halt as she spun around, attempting to locate herself. Her hand brushed something soft and warm. She recoiled instantly. A greenish light flooded the trail, making her tumble backward with a shriek.
“Hello there. Are you lost, little fox?” A tall figure loomed from the light, sending a shiver up her spine. It was a disheveled man with long brown hair in wild disarray, streaks of gray curling around his ears. A hand emerged from inside his layered brown cloak, its calloused fingers dark with earth. He pulled her up with surprising ease.
The man was impossibly tall, and Sage felt her nerves flare. What was a man with a shiny stick doing inside the woods after closing hours, and worse, in the restricted area?
“Sir, I’m sorry, but we’re not open until tomorrow!” She squeaked, fumbling to finally gather her scattered papers. When she bent down, the turf caught her attention. Her country was tropical; there was no turf, much less pine turf, it simply didn’t belong there. Slowly her hands brushed at the soft brown substrate, and she lifted her head to gape at the puzzled man and her surroundings.
He raised his messy gray eyebrows, a hand resting on his waist. Behind him, the animal rescue center and taxidermy were gone.
Sage stared back, perplexed. His garb, flowing robes, uncannily mimicking the forest floor, earthy browns blending with vibrant greens. At his side, he carried a gnarled stick covered in moss, tiny woodland creatures scuttled around him. Sage's fear crumbled into mild annoyance and curiosity, that man did not feel like a threath to her.
“I’m Radagast the Brown. Do you know where your parents are?” He asked, his tone curious and gentle.
Her indignation flared. Not only had he mistaken her for a child, but he also introduced himself with a fictional wizard’s name.
“I’m Sage. Sage Plath. I’m not a kid. As I told you, sir, you’re not supposed to be here after closing hours…” She gestured for him to follow. “You can come out through the employee parking lot with me. I left my jeepy there.”
She walked mindlessly, expecting the parking lot to appear any moment. But after several minutes, there was no sign of the lot or her buggy. Radagast gave her a sympathetic smile and placed a guiding hand on her shoulder.
“Oh I see... I do appear to be lost...” She admitted, standing slowly. The man eyed her peculiar outfit: wide-leg gray wool pants, held by a black leather belt and a cropped shirt decorated with bleached stars.
“Yes…” He pondered aloud, his expression thoughtful. "This way, dear. I fear you’re far from said jeepy.” His voice forced the foreign word out of his mouth.
Sage’s mind reeled, struggling to process what had happened. Where was she? Why was this man pretending to be a wizard from a book? Where was her fucking car??
He led her to a shack nestled in the woods, built into the largest tree she’d ever seen. The roots twisted sideways, lifting the colossal trunk, and beneath it stood a small cottage. Its rounded orange door and circular windows glowed warmly, as soft yellow lighting spilled from within. Radagast followed a colorful gravel path lined with greenery and nests, while Sage trailed behind, astonished.
Inside, the house was a wonderland. Herbs grew in every nook and cranny. Small animals scurried and scattered all over the place, from birds chirping, squirrels scruffing, to porcupines and bunnies curled up in cozy corners. The room radiated warmth, a roaring fire lit up the living room, where two plush green armchairs, draped with crochet blankets faced the hearth. The kitchen was snug, with earthy green metal appliances and a shelf of mysterious vials and jars. It was the sort of home Sage imagined a hippie grandma might own.
Radagast called her to sit, and she eased into a large wooden chair at the slightly too-high table.
“So, you’re really the Radagast the Brown? Like the istari?” She asked, fiddling with the stitches on the tablecloth.
“Is an oak still an oak?” He replied serenely. “Of course, I am. Who else would I be? And who else would be me?” He eyed her curiously. “But I don’t understand who are you, yet.”
He poured steaming tea into a cup and offered wild honey, which she accepted. The girl promptly shoveled the spoon on her mouth, savouring the sugary treat. She sipped her unsweetened tea, curiously glancing at the peculiarity of his home and the dwellers inside.
Radagast went on a monologue about the family lore from a bunch of possums that kept asking him to babysit their 19 possulings. Sage was extremely amused by the story, and the next few hours were spent with the wizard telling tales of talking animals and their family feuds, along with stories of the forest. Eventually, the girl started to yawn and droop on the table.
“Oh my! Oh my! We better find you somewhere to sleep. I have no use for a bed, but I’m sure we can fit you somewhere.” Radagast said.
And so the redhead curled up in the armchair like a cat, it was big and plush, the pillowy seat seemed to engulf her. The wizard covered her with a wool blanket, and she drifted away almost immediately. The woods at night fell into a somber silence, their guardian rested on a stool, legs crossed and smoke billowing out of his nose and ears. The pipe rested comfortably on his hand, the staff by his side, emitting a comfortable hue, as he watched over the woods steadily. Small creatures crawled onto him, snuggling their snouts close for warmth. A fat possum, bravely made his way into the girls arms, how dare this newcomer steal his plush chair. She would face the concequences, he tought, as she held him like a stuffed animal, the poor thing thing tried to fend off her hug, but ultimately succumbed to a power nap.
On the morning after, the wizard mused at the disturbed opossum, who faked being tremendously offended.
“I warned you, Klaus.” The wizard said, offering the pleading animal a smug look.
The soft chirping of birds and the smell of coffee gently broke her slumbering. Sage could feel whiskers poking at her face curiously.
“Good morning.” She murmured, rubbing the possum named Klaus behind his ears, eliciting a loud purr.
The girl got up and stretched like a cat, holding the critter like a baby against her chest. A whip-like slap against her leg made her look down. She saw the tip of an animal-like tail. Turning around, she noticed all the house critters were gathered in the kitchen area, observing her. She tapped her behind and felt a hole in her pants, from which a long tail stuck out. It resembled a gerbil’s tail, with short hairs along its length in a ginger color, and a voluminous fluff of soft ginger fur on the tip.
She blinked at the realization, trying her best not to panic. Calmly, she walked to the kitchen and doe-eyed the wizard, who immediately noticed something had changed.
“I-i... I grew a tail.” Said member whipped from behind her, curling and twitching by her side as the wizard watched, amused.
“It seems you’ve grown way more than that.” He said, pointing at a silver water bowl where she could see herself.
Her ears were different: thinner, longer than an elf’s, and sharply pointed outwards. Her round dark eyes, pink lips, and small button nose remained the same, but the subtle changes were unmistakable. She twitched her nose a couple of times, blinking in front of the makeshift mirror.
“What am I?” She asked the wizard curiously. Her feet were unchanged, and her legs seemed just fine. She settled Klaus down and examined her hands. The backs were normal, but the palms bore intricate, mirrored symbols.
On the palm of her hands, mirrored tattos radiated fine lines outward, encircling her forearms, they shimmered uncomfortably, glowing almost omniously. The right palm was covered by a sun, from wich a delicate array of dotted lines flowed downward, guiding it torwards an eye. On her left palm, a crescent moon lay gently cradled within a thin elliptical ring. On either side of this ring, small circles sat as though stars in orbit. "The heavens as above, so below", she tought, her fingers running through her skin, and feeling no pain or texture whatsoever. While the old the tattoos she had, protruded thin scars, that could be felt if one payed enoug attention, this drawings seemed to be colored, or stained on her skin.
The mirrored tattoos stretched halfway to her forearm. She realized her modern and anime reference tattoos had vanished, she spun around herself, lifting the shirt quickly. Her other tattoos were fine, the blackwork demon crawling her tight was there, the hands and trees on her ribcage, her crow, all but the modern day references. Senselessly she tried to wash off the newly aquired drawings on her hands.
The water from the silver bowl seemed to elicit more shimmering from the drawings. She blinked, she had rather liked them, honestly, since money had been quite short lately it had been some time since she had last gotten a new tattoo. She turned to the wizard, palms facing him and her breathing seemed to be quicker than normally.
“What is this supposed to mean?” She asked, showing the symbols to the equally puzzled wizard.
“I fear you will have to find out…” He said, handing her a cup of coffee.
"Do I get to return home? What happened to my world?" She spiraled, settling down at the table and gripping the mug with both hands, the table seemed even taller than the night before.
"Do you wish to return home?" Radagast said rather fondly, his face tipped down to make eye contact. Yet, Sage did not answer, she sipped her coffee and met his gaze.
"Unless im obliged too, i'd rather be anywhere else." She said lowly, her mouth covered by the cup, his answer was fond smile.
And then, months passed in their strange rhythm. Her things had not mistically appeared in a trunk in the woods, so the wizard helped her acquire clothes and other things she might need, mainly clothes and new study material, since pretty much all that was plastic had vanished. They hit off quite well, she was an odd bit, and he was odder. She was excited to help and be a part of whatever he was up to and their bond grew as Sage adapted to this peculiar world. Klaus, the grumpy possum, became her fierce and loyal companion, trailing behind her every step, and even hiding at the nape of her neck, when around other humans. The istari taught her the secrets of the forest and how to use her newly found talents, while the girl lent her sharp mind and energy to his endeavors. She learned to ward off hunters, mediate disputes among sentient animals, to use the faint magic she had aquired, and even fend off errant orcs.
She was no istari, no, no, far from that. Yet she found her will was more than enough to get things flowing her way. Growing plants and healing small injuries on animals was something she could do greatly, to get small vines to curl around items and even carry them sometimes. Yet Radagast instigated her to practice everyday, even if just a little, sometimes his little was growing flowers on his athelas, other times it was bending the centenary tree of their house, to fill leaks on the "roof".
As all good things do, this time came to an end. As one morning, during their rounds, Sage chattered about possum gossip when something tackled her to the ground. A creature, easily the size of her chest, pinned her to the ground. Spindly legs trapped her limbs, and venom-dripping fangs hovered near her throat. Panic flared, and her hand darted to her dagger. She stabbed furiously as green ichor sprayed her face. Radagast delivered the killing blow, severing the creature’s cephalothorax with a single strike of his staff.
Klaus squeaked, rushing to aid her. Sage stood shakily, prodding the sizzling remains with a stick.
“Dark magic.” She muttered. “What is this doing this far up? Ungoliant’s spawn?”
“I fear the peace we got used to is coming to an end. Something dark is stirring beneath our noses.” His hand tapped her hair as he checked her for bruises, his face darkened and worried.
“Are you going to tell them? The council?" She said, as if breaching a hard subject. "If darkness is breaching its way this far up east, they should know...” Sage’s resolve stressed.
"I have not told them about you..." He admitted guiltly. "And tough i agree, this should be taken to the council's knolwdge, i fear your existence is a subject far more interesting to their liking."
"It should be done nontheless... Right?"
"I cannot guarantee you will be allowed to return home, sprout." He spoke of the forest, her new home with him, she puffed up her chest.
"This ponty ears cannot tell me what to do, i abide to my own will only." She said full of resolve.
Turns out, she does abide to the will of the white council. The redhead paid her tongue for it, and there she was, months later. Traveling with the gray wizard and her possum to stay at the house of a man she had never met in her life, Radagast tried his best to take her back, and was furious that the council simply took her from him like child services, ignoring her will and disrespecting his position there too.
But at least Gandalf was nice to her, despite being awfully stubborn, he had great stories and amazing pipeweed. The brown had sent Klaus with the duty to take care for her and keep an eye on her for him, to make sure The Grey wouldn´t do anything stupid. A job the Opossum was glad to take. Where the meddling wizard was taking her she did not know, or with whom she would be staying, she did not mind an adventure though.
It was a commotion when she arrived at the council with the Brown wizard and the others found that he had been keeping such a curious creature just to himself, a girl from another world. Galadriel questioned all about her, seemingly fascinated by the existence of an alternate universe, as was the Gray, who was deeply convinced that she had a major role in the future yet to come.
And even if the whole situation was stressful, much more for being poked and prodded like a lab rat, her heart was overfilled with amazement for the elvish lands. The valley was much more than the books had described, one could feel the magic seeping from the ground and breaching the tiles, if fulfullment could be injected directly into your veins, that is what the valley felt like. Sage had met all three of Elrond’s children, the twins and Arwen, though she could not tell Elladan and Elrohir apart, she indulged in their pranks and lighthearted behavior. Klaus often treathned to bite the princes, chasing them threatning to bite their ankles, wich drew chuckles from the girl.
Upon her departure, her heart filled with longing, from the woods she left behind and the valley that wanned behind their backs, concealed by magic. Radagast accompanied them on their way out, seemingly angry at the other wizard, their eyes did not meet, yet his palm guided the girl by her back, speaking rapidly all the advices he could muster.
"Ill be fine." She said, voice cracking slightly. "Ill care for Klaus and say good morning to the trees everyday, and ill never care what humans say about me. I promise."
He smiled fondly.
"I know you will be fine. But if you are ever unfine, you know where to find me." He tapped her awkwardly on the back, she lunged for a hug. They parted in silence, and if Gandalf heard sniffling, it was likely because of the rain that fell softly on their shoulders.
When they entered a road where it rained nonstop, to a point where Gandalf’s horse was frustrated and their cloaks were soaked, their pointy hats formed waterfalls that dripped down their backs. It finally downed where he was taking her; The Shire.