WARNING!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!! This is blatant self-insertion. However, I will do my absolute best to make this an original story, despite the female character being essentially. . . well, me. If the character starts being too perfect, TELL ME, FOR GOD'S SAKE.

"Gandalf!" yelled Frodo, stumbling. The Rider closed in on him. Aragorn began to rush forward, knowing that he would be too late. The others milled about in confusion, wanting to help, but not knowing how.

Gandalf raised his staff, shouting. The words of power filled the air. The Fellowship was momentarily blinded by a flash of light, and they knew no more.

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Annalise Huggins smacked the keyboard. The computer wouldn't work- not at all. Maybe there was a power surge or something, she thought. There had been that flash of light a minute ago. But the lights were still working- weren't they?

She stood up and stretched her five foot frame, stepping to the light switch. They were currently off- what use was there of lights during the summer in Alaska? This was the land of the Midnight Sun, after all. She flipped the switch.

Nothing happened. She swore and flipped it up and down again. Still nothing. So, it had definitely been a power surge. Or something.

She sighed and stepped back to the computer, deciding to reboot it. Maybe that would help. Making a frustrated noise in her throat, she sat down at the computer. She had been engrossed in a fan-fiction, and now she wasn't sure she would be able to find it again.

Annalise was a Lord of the Rings fan. Her friends, in recent months, had taken to calling her Ann Baggins, after her hobbit-like looks. She did nothing to discourage it- in fact, she asked people to call her that.

She stretched again and decided to grab something to eat while the computer re-booted. The basement apartment she rented had a small kitchenette, a living room, and her bedroom, but that was about it. She opened the door to the hallway.

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Aragorn awoke first, a headache threatening to overwhelm him. He pushed it aside and stood, his Ranger's training taking over. A moment later he was joined by Gandalf, who seemed less affected by the spell than Aragorn had been. The rest of the Fellowship was lying on the ground, unconscious. Legolas and Boromir were stirring.

Aragorn glared at Gandalf. 'Nicely done, wizard, knocking out nine people with one spell.' Gandalf muttered, and the two set about reviving the rest of the group.

Within a few minutes, all nine were sitting up with varying degrees of headaches. The hobbits were still fairly out of it, so the five warriors decided to let them be. They had drawn weapons.

The door at the end of the hallway they were in began to open, and everyone tensed. Legolas stretched his bow and aimed it at the door, while Aragorn and Boromir readied their swords. Gandalf hung slightly back, sword drawn and staff in hand.

The door opened farther, revealing a..... a hobbit?

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Ann gasped at the arrow pointed at her face and the drawn swords.

She promptly fainted.

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Aragorn started to step forward, but Gandalf stopped him. He sheathed his sword as he gazed down at the girl, staff pointed at her, his free hand spread over her body. After a moment he turned back.

'It is safe,' he said. 'Go on.'

Aragorn stepped forward and sheathed his own sword. He bent over the girl and propped her up. A water flask came off his belt, and he held it to her slack lips, tilting her head back. After a moment, she coughed and spluttered, reviving. Aragorn stepped back, hand on his hilt.

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Ann's eyes fluttered open to an odd scene. Five men stood there, one with sword sheathed, two with a swords out, and one with bow and arrow. The other was short and bearded with an axe. All were tensed up, ready to fight if necessary, but none of them seemed to be about to jump her. Her eyes traveled back to the four kids standing behind them.

Her heart seemed to jolt and she felt like she might faint again. No. . . . It flat out couldn't be possible. She was crazy. She was dreaming. No, when she dreamt, she didn't feel faint. But still. . . .

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The girl was staring wide eyed at the hobbits. Frodo nervously patted his breast pocket, making sure that the Ring was safe and out of sight.

Aragorn decided to try and reason with her, to confirm that she was not dangerous. "Please excuse the intrusion, Lady." He said in Elvish.

She blinked. Obviously she hadn't understood.

'Try the common tongue,' suggested Gimli. Aragorn nodded.

'Can you understand me?' He asked in Westron.

Her eyes widened. "Say that again," she said, voice trembling. Her language seemed to be some form of Rhorrim- an odd dialect, but understandable.

'Can you understand me,' repeated Aragorn. The girl was staring off into space, eyes glassy.

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It was the language of time long past, she knew. But still. . . her mother had sang a song in that language, many years ago. It all came rushing back to her. Or. . . rushing forward, as a language she had never heard before came to her.

'Yes,' she whispered. 'I can.'

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'You can?' Asked Aragorn, somewhat surprised. 'Good. Now then, Lady, where are we?'

'Anchorage,' she replied, 'Alaska. But that won't do you any good.'

Aragorn glanced at Gandalf, puzzled by the strange names. 'No, I am afraid it does not. What land are we in?'

She shook her head, seeming disbelieving. 'A land an ocean and at least two thousand years away from Middle Earth.'

There was a stunned silence. Frodo was the one who broke it. 'Wh- what did you say?'

The girl looked at him mournfully. 'It's been centuries since the War of the Ring ended.' She smacked herself on the head. 'What am I saying? I can't tell you what happens!' She sighed. 'But I have to. The Fellowship has passed down into legend. Bilbo's book-'

Frodo interrupted. 'How do you know about Bilbo?'

'Just listen, okay?' She snapped. 'Bilbo's book was published all over the world. It's a classic. And the entire story of the Ring, and the War, and the passing of the third age- it's all been written down. Most of the world has read about it. There's even a freaking movie!

'But nobody thinks it's real. Nobody thinks that it actually happened. Well, I do, and Tolkien did, sort of, but then, I'm a freak. . . .'

There was a silence as the girl seemed to be deep in thought. Suddenly she shook her head and looked up. She slapped her cheek.

'Where are my manners?' She asked, smiling. 'My name is Annalise Huggins, but please, call me Ann. I welcome the Fellowship to my home.' She bowed deeply. As she straightened, she turned businesslike. 'Now then, what can I get you? Drinks? Fresh clothes? A bath?'

'Food!' Cried Pippin. Annalise laughed and motioned them towards the kitchenette.

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SOME HOURS LATER. . . . (during which the hobbits consume much of Ann's food, and she explains some things)

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'Now then,' Said Annalise as the hobbits finished eating. 'You can't be wandering around in those outfits.'

'Why not?' Asked Merry plaintively. 'I like my clothes.'

'Hmm..... Well, here, take a look at me.' She stood and spun, then sat down again. 'Now think about it. Would any of the women in your time wear this?' She gestured to her hip-hugging flare jeans and form-fitting blue t-shirt.

'Well....' Said Merry reluctantly 'No, I suppose not.'

'Exactly. Luckily for you, I think I know where to get you all some appropriate clothing!'

This was said in such a cheerfully perky way that the entire fellowship groaned in anticipation.

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