PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter XXI: Failed Dating Life

I took a sip of my black coffee and watched as Jack settled in the chair opposite mine. We had claimed one of the round metal tables on the street outside a Starbucks. I'd wanted to sit outside, hoping that the sounds of traffic and pedestrians would cover up any awkwardness in our conversation. It was spring in Ohio, which meant that the sky was blue and the sun was shining but I still needed a leather jacket.

I sent a reproachful look at the mocha Frappuccino in Jack's hands and said, "I don't know how you can drink that. It's freezing outside."

"It's the taste that matters," said Jack.

"No." I shuddered. "I'm a hot drinks on cold days and cold drinks on hot days kind of a woman. Balance is best. Like a balanced breakfast. The most important meal of the day… I really need to stop rambling."

Jack laughed. "You really don't know how to stop talking."

"Not at all."

Jack reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. I leaned forward and saw a list of names written in neat print. It was a list of mythical creatures that I could possibly be.

"Not this again," I groaned. "Really? You're trying so hard."

"I'm trying to figure out how you can teleport," said Jack. His hazel eyes were wide and earnest.

"It's cute," I said. "It's really cute. All right." I leaned back in my chair and sipped my coffee. "Give it to me. What do you think I am?"

"This is embarrassing," muttered Jack. "Okay, first on the list is vampire."

"Yes, yes, I want to suck your blood." If I ever tried to suck Thorin's blood, he'd probably murder me. Or better yet, Gandalf would probably zap me into the next life with magic.

"Okay," said Jack, crossing it off the list with a ballpoint pen. "Next is werewolf—which doesn't really make sense since you teleported."

"You got me," I said. "I jumped off the roof, turned into a wolf, sprinted back up the building to the roof, and turned back into the human. All because I wanted to fool you. I'm extra like that."

"No," said Jack. "I didn't think so." All right. How about a nymph?"

I laughed and clapped my hands together. "Can I be a nymph? That'd be fun. I'll be a sea nymph. Watch me ride the ocean waves—except I'd constantly have the taste of salt in my mouth. Yuck. Okay, I'm not a nymph."

"You're having too much fun with this," muttered Jack. "Next on the list is a fairy."

"Ew," I said. "Fairies are little things that fly around after little boys and demand people believe in them. Though I do have the blonde thing going for me."

"Not a fairy," said Jack. "Are you a dwarf?"

Right when he said that, I had taken a sip of coffee. I spat it out all over the table. (Not a good thing to do on a first date, but oh well…)

"Yes!" I cried. "I want to be a dwarf. Can I be was dwarf, please?"

"I'll take it you're not one then."

I practically wilted in disappointment. "But I want to be one."

Jack frowned. "You know dwarves?"

"Oh." My excitement vanished instantly, and it was only then that I realized I might have said too much. "Uh, well, I have an affinity for short people."

"How tall are you?" asked Jack.

I screwed up my face. Throughout high school, I'd hated having to answer that question. Guys walking up to me in the hall, waving their hands over my head, and asking if I would ever grow. "Four-foot-ten."

Jack opened his mouth, and I could see him struggling not to make a polite comment about my height. Finally, he chose to cross "dwarf" off the list and ask, "Are you an elf?"

"What?" I made a face. "Definitely not. Pick something else. How did you even go from dwarf—short—to elves?"

"Elves are short," said Jack. "Like Santa's little helpers."

I tried to imagine Legolas or Elrond working as one of Santa's elves, making toys year round and snacking on milk and cookies. "They'd be insulted to hear that. Nope. Hate to break it to you, but elves are tall and snobbish…though they are excellent drinkers."

"You know elves?"

"Nope. I'm just saying. Look it up on the internet."

"It doesn't say elves are good drinkers on the internet."

"You're not looking in the right places."

Jack slurped his drink through the straw and then said, "Suspicious, very suspicious. You know elves and dwarves."

"No, I don't," I said. "I know short people, and I know how to use the internet. It's quite simple really. You just want me to be some magical being so you can say to your friends, 'Hey, guess what, I went on a date with an elf.'"

"What? No." Jack frowned, creases appearing between his eyebrows. "I just want to know how you can teleport."

"I don't teleport."

"Yes, you do," said Jack. "Also, I never agreed that this was a date."

I pouted a little. "I don't get to go on dates often—let me have this one date to brag about!"

Jack sighed. "Fine. It's a date. But you still won't tell me how you can teleport."

I had to take a long sip of coffee so that my smile didn't scare Jack away. He had no idea how important it was to me that this was a date, how much I needed to prove to myself that I could still be normal.

"Do you do that all the time?" asked Jack.

"What?"

"Finagle guys into taking you on dates."

"Only half the time," I said. "Other times I teleport just to add some spice."

"You said you didn't teleport."

"I changed my mind. I teleport now. I'm like Superman or— Wait? Does Superman teleport?"

"I don't think he teleports," said Jack.

"Wait," I said. "Superman can't teleport., but I can teleport… Awesome, I can compete with Superman on the badass level."

Jack smiled and shook his head. "You are far from badass." He set his coffee cup back down on the table and said, "I'm finished."

"I'm not," I said quickly. I didn't want the date to be over so soon. I wanted to be normal for a little while longer. I held up my half-drunk cup of coffee and said, "I'm savoring it."

"Well, you can take that with you, can't you?" said Jack.

"Why? Is the date over already?"

"No." Jack hesitated. "I was going to see if you watched to catch a movie."

I blinked. Okay, let me just take in the moment. I, a girl who could not hold onto anything long than a minute before she disappeared, was being asked to go see a movie. By a cute guy. My life was complete. Complete, I tell you. First date was a success!

(You can guess where this is headed, can't you?)

So, we left the coffee shop and headed for the theater, which was a few blocks away. We didn't talk all that much as we walked. Or, if we did, I don't remember that much of it. My mind struggled to wrap itself around the idea that this date might actually be going well. From the moment Jack had seen me jump off the roof, I'd figured any real chance at a romance with him was gone. I'd even had to plead to get him to call this date. But now, he wanted to see a movie with me. Maybe romance wasn't ruled out at all? Maybe I still had a chance at this normal, regular, cute boyfriend…

"So what movie do you want to see?" asked Jack.

I had no idea. I didn't even know what in theaters. I spent too much time in another world to keep up with movies.

"You choose," I said, trying to smile flirtatiously.

Jack picked the biggest action movie he could. I swear I just about had a fit just looking at the movie poster, which featured men and guns and a blazing inferno surrounding them.

Let me set the record straight : I don't like action movies. Yes, I managed to sit through 300; Bonnie liked to make Nick and I watch action movies when it was her turn to pick on movie night. Nick is squeamish when it comes to blood and violence (I'm amazed he survived the goblins), and I just don't like that genre of movie. Action movies are either a) incredible inaccurate or b) too close to my actual life for comfort. Mostly action movies fell into the first category, and I have no appreciation for the inaccurate fight scenes. But then there was the second category…

If I was a sensible person, I would have told Jack that I didn't like action movies and asked him to pick something else. But I took one look at that adorable face and those blue eyes, and well, I was a goner.

"Sure," I said. "Let's see that."

Jack paid for the tickets and I bought the popcorn. Then, we headed to the theater to find seats at the back.

"Do you like action movies?" asked Jack. "Or should I have picked the comedy?"

"Oh, um, actions movies are good," I lied. "I mean it gets kind of annoying when they use the swords wrong, and everyone's just so good at fighting when they've spent their lives in the suburbs. The worst are the fantasy movies. Don't even get me started on the ridiculous dragons in those movies."

"Ridiculous?" Jack looked at me sidelong. "Have you seen a real dragon?"

I blinked. "Of course, I have—it's called the internet, a wondrous place of facts and lies. When you go look up elves, look up dragons as well."

Jack watched me suspiciously, and he probably would have asked me more if, right then, the theater lights hadn't dimmed.

Saved by the movie.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I reached for a bite of popcorn, but—Skip—I never got it.

My hand reached out and caught hold of a dry, dead bush. I screamed and stumbled backwards. I landed brittle grass, the brown blades scratching against my hands and face.

I sat up, rubbing my elbows, and looked to see where in Middle Earth I'd ended up now. The time seemed to be in the morning, the pale sun high in the sky. I had ended up in a grassland, surrounded by dying trees and dying plants. Everything had turned a sickly shade of brown, as if the place had been struck by some disease.

"Great. Just great." Well, this definitely wasn't the movie theater.

I lay back onto to the ground. Perhaps if I pretended to be dead, the Skip would take me back sooner.

There went my one chance at a successful date. Jack would think I ditched him in the movie theater. Unless I could get back before the movie ended. Maybe he wouldn't realize I was gone… (Yes, I realize this was a slim hope, but I was desperate and single.) Maybe I could explain to Jack that I had no control over my "teleporting." Maybe he would believe me. Maybe he would understand that I hadn't meant to leave. Maybe he'd forgive my hectic life and agree to a second date. Of course, at the rate things were going, I'd probably Skip during the second date too. And the third. And the fourth.

I let out a long sigh. To be honest, the Skipping still wasn't a part of my life that I wanted to share. It'd been hard enough to tell Nick; I didn't think I was ready recount my whole miserable list story to the cute next-door neighbor.

"Why can't you let me be normal?" I asked aloud.

The Skip, of course, had no reply for me.

Well, there wasn't much point in lying there and expecting the Skips to take pity on me. I got to my feet, brushed off my pants, and then surveyed the dying landscape.

Jagged rocks covered the flat grassland. Skeletal bushes, dry trees, cracked earth. In the distance, I could see a forest of dying trees and then shadow of a mountain range. This wasn't a place or time I recognized, and I didn't see any of the Company or the Fellowship. There was no one here I cared to hang out with. So, I set off in search of a cliff or something I could jump off.

I managed to get a whole five steps in the direction of the mountains before I tripped over a hobbit.

My foot hit a soft blanket and something solid beneath, and I went sprawling face-first into the dry grass.

"Hey!" I crie, picking myself off the ground. Already my date outfit had been covered in dirt and dry leaves. "Watch where you're going!"

The hobbit leapt up from beneath his blanket, drawing his dagger. I recognized the dagger immediately, and when I looked up, I saw that his blue eyes were widened with astonishment.

"Ana?"

"Frodo?"

I glanced down at Frodo's cotton blanket. There was a second blanket next to his, but whoever it belonged to wasn't around at the moment. Frodo's camp had been set up behind a cluster of brown bushes so that passers-by would not see him unless they practically stepped on him (like me).

"What are you doing here?" asked Frodo.

"You shave to ask that question at this point?" I asked. "I Skipped here." I looked around but the sickly landscape seemed empty of life. "Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone else?" Frodo frowned, and then slow understanding crossed his face. "You were not here for the breaking of the Fellowship."

"The breaking?" That didn't sound good. "When did this happen?"

"After we left Lothlórien," said Frodo. "Gandalf died and…" Frodo took a deep breath. "I realized that I must go to Mordor without the others. This task was appointed to me, and I cannot expose my friends to the evils of the Ring. I planned to complete the journey on my own, but Sam insisted on coming with me." He smiled at the empty second blanket. "He must be off preparing breakfast."

"Good old Sam," I said with a smile. However, my smile faded as the rest of the words registered. "But still, you left the Fellowship? Because Gandalf died? But, but, but he came back to life!"

A frown tugged at Frodo's mouth. "Ana, what do you mean?"

I froze. Should I tell Frodo what had happened? Was he supposed to know Gandalf had come back to life? Where was Frodo in the timeline right now? Perhaps Gandalf was already alive and kicking, and Frodo just didn't know it yet.

"Ah, I meant, I'm going to bring Gandalf back to life. You heard me. Before your quest is over, I'm going to bring Gandalf back to life."

Frodo managed a weak smile. "You are stubborn in your own way, Ana."

"I will bring Gandalf back. I promise you. It's going to happen."

Frodo didn't reply. I don't think he believed me. Well, I wouldn't have believed me either. Of course, I felt a bit guilty for taking credit for Gandalf's resurrection, but, you know, I was intending to bring him back to life before he came back on his own. I'm owed partial credit.

"So, how have you been?" I asked.

"Alive," said Frodo. "Our journey has not been an easy one, but we have managed so far. Sam and I—"

"Nasty hobbit, fat hobbit, we curses it, we curses it."

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, I spun around. There, between two skeletal bushes, crouched the most pitiful, ugly creature I could ever imagine. He was little more than skin and bones that crawled along the ground on all-fours. His head was bald with a few strands of long, greasy hair that fell past his pointed chin. Each bump of his spine was clear beneath his taut, gray skin, and he wore only a filthy brown loincloth. When he lifted his head, I could see his huge, bulbous gray eyes. He stared at me and then at Frodo and then back to me. His eyes narrowed with distaste and distrust.

"Um, hi," I said, waving.

"What is it, precious?" asked the creature, beginning to circle me. "What is it? Can we eats it, precious? Does it tastes good, precious?"

"Do not eat her, Sméagol," said Frodo. "She is a friend."

The creature glanced at Frodo and then continued muttering. "Friends? Sméagol does not have any friends. Is that not right, precious? There is only Sméagol and the precious and the foods."

"Is he all right?" I asked Frodo. "He does know we can hear him, right?"

"He has been alone in the dark for a very long time," explained Frodo. Pity colored his gaze as he looked down at the creature. "His name is Sméagol, or Gollum."

"Gollum?" My heart leapt in my chest at the familiar name. Less than a day ago, I had stood on the slopes of the Misty Mountains, listening to Bilbo's story of riddles and trickery and the creature Gollum. I glanced down at this pitiful creature. "Why is he with you?"

"He is our guide," said Frodo. "He is leading us into Mordor."

I watched Gollum circle me. Wasn't this the same creature who had planned to murder Bilbo regardless of the outcome of the riddle game? I sure hoped Frodo didn't think Gollum was an upgrade from the Fellowship.

"Nasty girls, nasty girls," said Gollum. "She suspects poor, innocent Sméagol. What has Sméagol ever done to her? She does not likes Sméagol? Sméagol does not likes her."

"And I've lost nothing." I turned back to Frodo and asked, "Where's Sam?"

"He's—"

"Mister Frodo!" Sam came running through the bushes. He had grown thinner since last I saw him, but he had the same messy blond hair and chubby cheeks. He stopped when he saw me. "Ana?"

"Hey, Sam," I said. "Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?"

"Me?" I sighed dramatically. "Well, I was in the middle of a date—a great date, mind you. It was going so well. And then—poof—I disappeared. God, the guy's going to think I ditched him. My love life is doomed. I had a date with a cute normal guy and instead I get a date with, with, with..." I nodded my head towards Gollum.

"Stupid girls," muttered Gollum. "She thinks she's better than Sméagol. But Sméagol will shows her. Yes, Sméagol will shows her, precious. When she sleepsies, Sméagol with find a rock and, and…" Gollum glanced at us suspiciously.

"No, Sméagol," said Frodo. "No, hurting Ana."

Gollum frowned. "Sméagol cannot hurts the nasty girls."

"Great," I muttered. "My life is just a little ray of sunshine."

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but we were interrupted by a loud, trumpeting sound.

A still silence fell over us as we turned to see what it was. Frodo started walking towards the noise, and Sam followed, equally as curious.

My first reaction was to run away from loud noises in the middle of nowhere (loud noises usually meant bad things), but I followed the hobbits despite my better judgment.

We picked our way through the boulders and bushes. Eventually, the boney trees grew closer together, and the ground grew uneven. Eventually, we entered a thicket of dry, crackling bushes. Crouching down, Frodo led the way through the undergrowth until we reached the edge of a cliff. Using the elvish cloaks Frodo and Sam had received during their stay in Lothlórien to conceal us, we lay down on the bumpy ground and peered out. I tried to stay as far back from the ledge as possible, trying not to look at the long fall down.

In the valley below was an army. They were not like any people I had seen in Middle Earth before. They were human, judging by their heights and builds; however, they wore leather armor with dark reds and black cloth. Some of them had colored face paints, while others had dark tattoos on their arms and legs. There must have been well over a thousand of them, marching through the dying grassland. They brought war with them, judging by bows and arrows strapped to their backs and swords at their sides.

I gulped. "Where are they headed?"

"I do not know," said Sam.

"You know," I said. "I have advice for this kind of situation."

"What advice is that?" asked Frodo.

"Get as far away from here as you can as fast as you can."

"That is good advice," said Sam, starting to get to his feet.

"Wait!" Frodo grabbed Sam's wrist. "Look."

An elephant. Well, it wasn't really an elephant. The creature was about a hundred feet tall with four tusks protruding from its jaw. There was a wooden structure attached to its back that formed platforms where the men could walk about.

"It is an oliphaunt," whispered Sam, incredulously.

"A what?" I asked.

"An oliphaunt," said Frodo. "But I have only ever heard of them in stories."

"You should come to my world," I said. "We have creatures like that. Being very humane people, we keep them locked up in zoos to ogle at." I stared across the valley at the oliphaunt. Despite us being up on a cliff, the oliphaunt's head was still at our eye-level.

An arrow fired.

It flew through the air and embedded itself in the head of one of the men on the oliphaunt's back. The man let out a shrill scream before toppling over the edge of the platform and falling—all one hundred feet there was to fall— to the ground.

I stared at his broken, bloodied body. My head started to spin, and I had to look away.

A volley of arrows soon followed the first, and a battle broke out between the army and their unseen attackers. Frodo, Sam, and I watched in horror as men fell from the oliphaunt's back, and blood stained the brown grass below.

Then, suddenly realizing the danger we were in, Frodo got to his feet. "We have lingered here too long."

With one last look at the oliphaunt, Sam got to his feet. I started to follow him—and came face to face with the heads of several arrows.

I squeaked and threw my hands in front of my face. "Don't eat me. I don't taste good."

Sam sighed. "You have not changed in the slightest, Ana."