The first thing Evelyn noticed when she awake was a very high, vaulted ceiling. As her eyes traveled downwards, the ceiling gave way to pillars carved in the shape of ivy. The room appeared to have only one real wall: it was across from her, painted white, and an arched doorway was in the center of it. When she looked to see what she was laying on, she saw a soft grey blanked and rubbed her hands over the silkiness. She did a double take when she noticed her hands and she lifted her arm. She flinched, realizing that it was stick-thin and frail, like her father's had been when he was on his deathbed. Her focus quickly changed when she heard a soft snore from beside her.

'Wow,' she thought, surprisingly not panicking. 'He is a man's man.'

He was built larger than any American football player she had ever seen, with chin-length auburn hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. He was dressed in well-worn travelling attire, with a huge shield beside him, and an old, battered horn in his lap.

Wait, a horn... and a shield? That couldn't be right; Evelyn had to be dreaming.

'That's it,' she thought. 'I'll close my eyes, count to three, and when I open them again, I will be back at home, in my own bed.' She shut her eyes tightly and began counting...

"One."

"Two."

She could have sworn she heard someone hurry away, but she ignored it.

"Three."

When Evelyn opened her eyes, she ws still in the same room, but with even more people. Two of them were tall, dark-haired, and looked like they had a faint glow around them. One appeared to be slightly more feminine than the other, but they were both extremely androgynous. They both could have been male for all she knew. The third was also tall, but obviously male: he had a long grey beard and hair; his old face looked wise and his blue eyes twinkled. He clung to staff made of gnarled wood. Something poked at Evelyn's conscious, but nothing seemed to register.

Evelyn stared at them, while they stared back; minutes ticked by, none of them speaking. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the old man spoke.

"It is good to see you are finally awake," he said gently. "How are you feeling?"

Evelyn considered this. "Well, I'm not quire sure," her voice croaked. "I'm rather weak and tired, but I feel physically fine otherwise. But... I have no idea where I am, or even who any of you are. Am I supposed to?"

One of the dark-haired ones spoke; the voice was musical, but obviously male. "You are in Rivendell, in the House of Elrond. I am Lord Elrond, this is Gandalf the Grey," he gestured to the old man, "And this is my daughter, Arwen." He placed a hand on the other dark-haired ones shoulder.

Evelyn frowned. "I feel like I should know you, but I cannot figure out how."

"Where do you hail from?" asked Arwen, her voice like soft bells.

"Kansas. Salina, Kansas, to be exact."

Elrond looked puzzled. "Is that in Rohan or Gondor?"

"It could be a tribe in Dunland, father." Arwen suggested.

"Where is Rohan, Gondor, and Dunland?" Evelyn asked. Arwen and her father shared matching frowns.

"Is it possible?" Arwen asked.

"No, not by any means that I know of," Elrond replied curtly.

"Lord Elrond," came a soft, feminine voice behind them. A thin, blonde (and also glowing) woman spoke. "He is waking."

A sense of urgency flitted across Elrond's and Gandalf's faces.

"We will speak later," Elrond said quickly, and the three of them swept out of the room.

Arwen walked to the side of Evelyn's bed and gently sat on the edge.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Evelyn Kaiser."

"Evelyn, do you remember anything?"

Evelyn thought for a moment; things flashed before her eyes. Waking in a strange forest, completely naked. Struggling to run from strange, deformed creatures with black skin. Finding a pile of animal furs and tying them around her naked body. Overwhelming hunger. And the sound of thundering hooves. Evelyn relayed this information and let Arwen ponder for a moment.

"The creatures you encountered were orcs."

"Orcs?"

"Creatures from a far-off land called Mordor. They are vile, heartless, evil creatures. Sauron the Deceiver captured Elves in a war thousands of years ago, where he twisted and tortured them into the creatures now known as Orcs."

Evely was confused.

"Elves?" she asked incredulously. "But, Elves aren't real! Even if they were, what kind of person would deform Santa's little helpers?"

Evelyn heard the sound of pealing bells, realizing a moment later that it was Arwen laughing.

"Lady Evelyn," she laughed, "I do not know what type of Elves you are thinking of, or even who this Santa is. But did you not see that you are in the company of an Elf? Or that my father is one, as well?"

Evelyn's eyes travelled to the side of Arwen's head. Yup, sure as hell, her ears were pointed.

"Wait... where the hell am I?" she asked, paling.

"You are in the Last Homely House, the House of Elrond, in Rivendell."

"The Last Homely House? Wait... oh my God."

Evelyn's eyes fluttered and she fainted. She was in fucking Middle Earth.


When Evelyn had awoke, Boromir had been dreaming. For four days, he had barely slept, watching as the Elves did all they could to help heal her. From what he understood, she had a severe infection of some sort, possibly due to eating the wrong thing. They determined that she had been wandering the forest for at least a fortnight. Boromir felt helpless and had no idea of what to do. Normally, he would have talked to his brother Faramir, with such matters. When he had found Evelyn in the forest, and she had her fit, it had nearly torn his heart clean in two. She was so small, so frail, she felt like nothing more than a bundle of twigs in his arms as they had ridden to Rivendell. When the healers had told him there was nothing more to do but wait, he had stormed from the room and went to the training area to let off his worry and anger.

Now, when he heard her speak, he rushed from the room to get someone's attention. Lord Elrond, Arwen, and Gandalf were already outside the door, though, almost like they knew exactly when she would awaken. Boromir hovered just outside the door, listening to their conversation. When Gandalf and Lord Elrond had left the room, Gandalf had given Boromir a kind smile. Boromir nodded to him in acknowledgement. As he turned to enter Evelyn's room, he heard her say her name.

"Evelyn Kaiser."

Such a strange name. Suiting, considering how Boromir had found her. He had just taken a few steps into the room when Evelyn's eyes fluttered and she slumped down. He ran to her side, waiting to see if she would have another fit. None came.

Arwen placed a hand on his arm. "She is fine, she has simply fainted," she explained. "You should go to your quarters and get some needed rest."

Boromir shook his head. "I cannot. Not until I am able to speak to her. There is something about her. Something strangely familiar, but I cannot place what it is."

Arwen nodded, a strange, knowing smile forming on her face. "Someone will be along shortly with food for both of you. Be gentle with your questions for her; she has been through much."

"I know."

As Arwen swept from the room, Boromir watched Evelyn, a deep frown etched onto her face. Without thinking, Boromir reached out and smoothed her brow with his thumb. Her face releaxed and she turned her head towards him. Boromir recoiled and snatched his hand back as if he was bitten. He was a soldier, a soldier of Gondor at that. Never a thought, nor a care, towards women or marriage. Yet here he was, coming undone because of some wild, foreign young woman. What was WRONG with him?

Boromir slumped onto his kit, relaxed slightly, and sighed. He really wished Faramir had come with him, if nothing but to help Boromir figure out what was going on with Boromir.