PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter XXII: Things Get Serious For A Second

Okay, my drink is refilled and I'm ready to continue. Where was I with the story?

Oh right. Frodo and Sam. And a currently absent Gollum/Sméagol. And the land of dying trees. And those dreaded arrows.

We learned that the people attached to those arrows were men. Men of Gondor, to be precise. Not that I knew that information at the time. The only thing I knew right then was the pointy end of an arrow directed at my head.

"Don't kill me," I said. I tried to step away from the arrow, but two firm hands held me in place. "Don't eat me! I'm innocent!"

"We do not wish to eat you," said one of the men.

Finally, I looked beyond the dangerous weapons and saw a dark haired, bearded man. I don't know why, but beards made me feel more comfortable. I smiled at the man and said, "Oh good, too many things have tried to eat me recently. Now I only have to worry about you killing me."

"Tried to eat you?" asked another man.

I nodded. "Goblins, wargs, a dragon… I even think a dwarf or two has considered eating me on occasion."

The men exchanged bemused glances, while Sam struggled against his captor and Frodo's blue eyes assessed the situation.

From the skeletal trees behind our attackers emerged a hooded figure. He stared at the two hobbits and then turned to me. On me, he did a double take. "Ana?"

He knew me? I couldn't see the man's face underneath his hood. Quickly, I ran down the list of men I knew in this world: Boromir—nope. Aragorn—nope. Dagar—definitely not. Girion—probably dead at this point. Denethor—I'd already be arrested. Which left…

"Faramir!"

Faramir removed his hood to reveal a tired, travel-stained face. He stared at me incredulously. "What are you doing wandering about in the wilderness in these dark and troubled times?" He motioned for his men to lower their weapons.

I felt the hands of my captor leave my shoulders, and I shrugged in relief. "You know me. I'm just passing through."

"You are acquainted with him?" asked Frodo.

"Yeah," I said. "You aren't?"

Sam gawked at me. "Have you met everybody?"

I didn't bother answering Sam's question and instead smiled up at Faramir. "I'm so happy to see you. It's been forever. How have you been?"

"It is good to see you as well." Faramir returned my smile, but his expression quickly recovered its seriousness. In a voice that carried a hint of exhaustion, he asked "What brings you to these dangerous lands?"

"I told you. I'm just passing through."

"And these Halflings," said Faramir, gesturing to Frodo and Sam. "What brings them to these lands?"

I felt Frodo and Sam stiffen beside me. They obviously had no desire to discuss the quest they had been given with men of Gondor. I trusted Faramir, of course, but he was not the only person present. Besides, the Ring made people do strange things. I didn't believe that Faramir would be swayed by the Ring, but one could never be sure about these things. The safest route, I decided, was to do what I always did: Lie.

"They're hobbits," I said. "They're my fellow passing-throughers."

Faramir frowned. "I did not know there were others like you."

"A fair few," I said. "We come and go as it pleases. We had the sudden urge to come to this land and so we did. We'll be leaving soon."

"Wait!" said a man with a short blond beard. "I know that woman."

I pointed at myself. "Me?"

"What about her, Ralen?" asked Faramir.

"Your father issued a warrant for her not a year ago," said Ralen gruffly. "I remember her insolence at the celebration."

"Me?" I squeaked. "What did I ever do?"

"Ralen," said Faramir, exasperation creeping into his voice.

"You know the laws of the land," said Ralen. "You must bring her to justice."

Faramir gritted his teeth. I could see the internal struggle taking place, but finally, he turned to me and with a sigh, said, "It is true, Ana. We are going to have to arrest you for a short while, but I will correct the misunderstanding as soon as possible."

"Come on," I said. "Denethor can't have held a grudge against me for this long?"

"Well," said Faramir, "you did offer him insult. Multiple times."

"He deserved it," I said, crossing my arms. "He's a terrible father."

"We really must arrest them," said Ralen. "She cannot insult Lord Denethor standing before us."

"I apologize, Ana." Faramir surveyed Frodo and Sam before he added, "Unfortunately, your friends are intruders upon this land. We must take you all into custody."

"Hey, wait!" I cried as the men moved to bind my hands behind my back. "Faramir, you're supposed to get me out of these situations! Denethor's insane—I can't believe he's held a grudge this long!"

Sam groaned as his hands were tied with rope. "Ana, I think you have met a few too many people."

Faramir and his men bound and blindfolded us. Then, they proceeded to drag us across the lands of North Ithilien to some secret hideout of Gondor's army. I don't know the details of the location. The only thing I can tell you is that it was located underground near some waterfall. That's all I got.

Our blindfolds were removed only when we'd reached the inside of the hideout. I blinked until my eyes got used to the light again, and then I saw that Frodo, Sam, and I had been brought to a small cavern with arching stone walls on three sides and a veil of water from the waterfall on the fourth side. The men of Gondor wandered about, carrying supplies, sharing drinks, and talking in lowered voices. Some of them shot us suspicious looks, while one or two of them even smiled at me. Frodo, Sam, and I sat lined up on barrels, our wrists still bound. Faramir sat on a wooden chair in front of us.

"Interrogation?" I asked.

"Formality," he said. "My apologies once again, but I must ask where you are from."

"Ohio," I said.

"Not you, Ana." Faramir didn't seem annoyed so much as amused (which was a step up from what I was used to). "I am asking your fellow passing-throughers, as you like to call them."

Frodo and Sam exchanged glances before Frodo turned to Faramir and said, "Frodo Baggins is my name, and this is Samwise Gamgee."

"Your bodyguard?" asked Faramir, noticing Sam's ferocious glare.

"His gardener," said Sam.

Faramir's lips twitched into a half smile that was gone as soon as it came.

"We are hobbits of the Shire," said Frodo. "Our business is our own, but I will tell you what I can. We set out from Rivendell on an errand of the upmost importance. Nine companions. One, we lost in Moria. Two others were hobbits and my kin. There was also an elf and a dwarf. Two men as well: Aragorn son of Arathorn and Boromir of Gondor."

I glanced at Faramir, a smile playing on my lips. It seemed that Frodo didn't know Boromir and Faramir were brothers. Well, this could be an amusing conversation.

"Boromir of Gondor?" repeated Faramir. He did not share my smile. "Were you a friend of Boromir's?"

Frodo hesitated. "For my part. Boromir was a strong man who was an essential part of our companions."

"He was more than that," I said. Frodo shouldn't sell Boromir short to his brother. Grinning at Faramir, I explained, "Boromir and I had wicked fun on the road. I don't know if you've seen him recently—he might have already told you all this. He had to piggyback me up a tree because I was too scared. And he had to piggyback me up a snowy mountain because I was too cold. You know, now that I think about it, Boromir piggybacks me a lot. We also had way too many drinking contests in Rivendell. I wished you'd been there to be the voice of reason."

"Ana," said Sam, "do not speak so easily."

"Come on," I said. "It's Faramir!"

Frodo and Sam gave me puzzled glances. I looked at Faramir expectantly, but Faramir did not smile at my comments. His face remained solemn. When he spoke, it was not to me, but to the hobbits. "And how did you come to part from Boromir?"

"Why all this interest in Boromir?" asked Sam.

Faramir did not answer; his gaze was fixed on Frodo.

"Hey," I said slowly, "what's going on here? Faramir? I may be dense, but even I can tell something's not right. What aren't you telling me?"

"We parted ways near Argonath," said Frodo. "I realized that our errand was too dangerous for so great a number. I have not heard from him since."

"I thought as much," said Faramir. He turned to me. "I do not wish to be the one to tell you the news, Ana. It will grieve you."

"What's going on?" I asked. "What happened?"

A knot had formed in my chest, but I refused to acknowledge it. Instead. I looked at Frodo and Sam, hoping they would have some idea about what Faramir kept going on about, but they seemed just as clueless as I was.

"One night," said Faramir, "while I was on guard duty, I saw something floating in the waters on the Anduin. I waded into the river and saw that it was a boat. The boat was of fair make, not carved by any man. It was an eerie scene, but the true horror was what lay inside the boat." Faramir's eyes met mine. "On that night I found the body of my brother with wounds from orcs across his chest."

My whole body went numb. The knot in my chest had grown, the pain becoming unbearable.

Frodo asked the questions I could not. "Dead? How? When?"

Faramir's jaw tightened. "As one of his companions, I was hoping you'd tell me."

And then, before I could even speak, Faramir rose from his chair and strode away. An anger and sorrow seemed to cling to his shoulders, and I desperately wanted to call out after him. But the words wouldn't form in my throat.

Frodo, Sam, and I remained seated. The rope around my wrists was starting to burn. I barely noticed. The knot seemed to fill my chest, heavy and painful. I found it hard to breathe.

No. This wasn't right. This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

I couldn't let myself start feeling down; it'd be like admitting defeat.

I smiled at Frodo and Sam. "Boromir was probably just playing dead."

"Ana," said Sam, his voice strangled, "this is hardly the time."

"You know," I said. "Those brothers are probably playing a practical joke on me. One day after a few ales, Boromir might have said, 'Faramir, when Ana drops by next we should pretend that I'm dead and just see what she does. Then I'll jump out at her and pretend to be the ghost of Boromir and she'll get creeped out.' They probably thought it'd be hilarious. And then I'd be like, 'No. Boromir, you're a jerk.' and then we'd all go get drunk and have fun."

"Ana," Frodo's voice was gentle, like he was speaking to a child, "Boromir is dead."

My body jerked awkwardly, and the rope dug into my wrists. "No. He's not. He's playing a practical joke on me. Did you not hear a word I just said?"

Neither Frodo nor Sam spoke another word.

I stared at the empty chair where Faramir had been seated only minutes before. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the worn wood no matter how much I tried. Boromir wasn't dead. It was a practical, a practical—oh, who the hell was I kidding? Boromir had died. Died. Killed by orcs. Dead. No, he hadn't. I wouldn't let him die. This was Boromir. This was the man who had piggybacked me all over Middle Earth. Why would he die? I would never let him die. I could save his life. I had saved the Fellowship. I had (somewhat) saved Gandalf. I could save Boromir. I would never let Boromir die.

I got to my feet, my hands fastened behind my back. One of the Gondor soldiers, moved to stop me, but I glared at him. "Where's Faramir?"

The soldier hesitated. It was actually Ralen, of all people, who came to my rescue. I don't know what Faramir had told him, but Ralen looked at me with immense pity in his brown eyes and pointed to the back of the cavern.

I followed Ralen's directions and found Faramir standing alone over a table with a map of Middle Earth spread out before him. He stared at the map, but I don't think he saw a single thing. Faramir's face had hardened, and his eyes were narrowed as if he was trying not to cry.

"He won't stay dead," I said.

Startled, Faramir turned around. He saw that it was me and relaxed a little. "You are meant to be our prisoner."

"My hands I tied." I turned around so that he could see the rope. Then, I turned back and said, "I won't let Boromir stay dead."

Faramir fought back a sigh. "What new insanity do you speak of now, Ana?"

"It's not insanity. I've stopped people from dying before, I can do it again."

"You cannot stop death," said Faramir. "Do not be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous," I said. "Time and place have no impact on me. One moment I can be standing here with you, and the next moment I can be back in Rivendell with Boromir and the Fellowship. I Skip about. It's what I do. The next time I see Boromir, I'll tell him what will happen and I'll tell him not to die. I'll warn him. He can stay out of harm's way. He won't have to die. It'll be fine."

Faramir stared at me. "What is this sorcery of which you speak?"

"It's not sorcery or witchcraft or devilry," I said. "Believe me. No, this is something else. Something far more." I took a deep breath. Part of me wanted to tell Faramir about it, about the Senturiel, but that would be admitting that I was somehow related to this magic rock that drove people insane. No, I could never admit to that. I didn't want Faramir to start looking at me with pity in his eyes. "I know what I can do, Faramir. I can save Boromir. I will save Boromir."

"Ana."

"I promise you."

"Ana."

"Nope," I said. "Not listening. I promised you. Don't try and make me take back my promise. I will bring Boromir back. I will. So we're all good. Why do you look so upset, Faramir? You should be happy—Boromir will come back and the three of us can go drinking together. Won't that be fun?"

"Ana."

"Whew," I said, waving my hand about. "Things got serious there for a second. It was scary."

Faramir looked as though he wanted to say more, to stop whatever insanity went through my head, but I suppose he was too tired and too busy dealing with his own grief to deal with mine as well. He stared at the map in front of him and asked, "What are you doing here, Ana?"

"I told you, I'm just passing through."

"Are you not always?"

"I don't do anything else anymore," I said.

It was true. I used to have a life back in Ohio. Not much of one, but I had been able to hold onto jobs for at least a few months, and I had been able to attend most of my college classes. But over the past six months, the frequency of the Skips had increased, and now it felt as though I spent all my time in Middle Earth.

I scooted forward and stared down at the map on the table. The markings of red and blue probably meant something to soldiers, but they only looked like colorful drawings to me. I looked for the places I knew. Gondor, Rohan, Dunland, the Misty Mountains, Mirkwood…not all of them had labels.

"I should not reveal to you this map," said Faramir.

"Probably not," I admitted. "But I don't understand much of it. You don't have Erebor labeled."

"Erebor…" Faramir frowned.

"The Lonely Mountain."

"Oh." Faramir pointed to the inked drawing of the mountain. "Do you know this place?"

I nodded. "It was the first place I'd ever visited in Middle Earth. It was also the first place in which something tried to kill me."

Faramir smiled though it did not quite reach his eyes. "I expect the first thing to try to kill you to be impressive."

"It was a dragon."

"That would be impressive."

We stood side by side, staring at the map for a moment longer. Then, Faramir asked. "Why are your friends here, Ana?"

"That's not my story to tell."

"They are carrying something, are they not?" asked Faramir.

I blinked, startled by his intelligence, but then quickly tried to mask my surprise.

Too late. Faramir noticed my reaction instantly. He nodded. "I had a dreams about what they carry. Two, to be precise. And Boromir had one. It is the duty of the second born to make such journeys and I had volunteered to go, but my father insisted that Boromir take the road to Rivendell." Faramir smiled ruefully. "My father now regrets that decision."

"Your father is a jerk," I said. "Tell me something new."

"You did not answer me." Faramir didn't like discussing his father with me. Instead, he asked, "They are carrying Isildur's Bane, aren't they?"

"I can't answer. I don't even know what Isildur's Bane is."

"It is a trinket of Sauron's. When Sauron first came to power, an alliance was formed between men and elves. They marched on Mordor and fought Sauron's armies. Elendil, the High King of Gondor and Arnor, died at the hands of Sauron, his sword broken beneath him. But his eldest son, Isildur, took up the remains of his father's sword and, with it, cut off Sauron's hand. Upon Sauron's hand was a trinket, a weapon, and when he was separated from it, Sauron perished. Isildur took the weapon as his own, though it would one day destroy him. That weapon became known as Isildur's Bane."

"Oh," I said. "Yeah, the Ring. That's a funny name for it."

"Then it is true," said Faramir. "The Halflings carry Isildur's Bane."

I groaned. "Curse my mouth. I should just have it sewn shut."

"It is a serious affliction." Faramir smiled as he spoke. "Do not worry. I would not take this thing. If it lay by the highway, if Minas Tirith falling into ruin and I alone could save her using this weapon of the Dark Lord for her good and my glory—I would not take this thing. I do not wish for such triumphs."

I grinned. "Yeah, yeah, Faramir. We all know you're amazing and gallant. It might do you some good to be a little less amazing and gallant every once in a while."

"I might try that some time," said Faramir.

"Good." I wriggled against the ropes.

Realizing I was still bound, Faramir pulled a knife from his belt and cut away the ropes.

"Thanks."

"My father should remove the warrant for you," said Faramir.

"I know, right? That man has some serious anger issues. I mean, I was drunk and might have said some rude things, but it's been how long since I got drunk with you guys in Minas Tirith?"

"A year has passed," said Faramir.

"Damn." I rubbed my red and aching wrists. "So, what are you planning to do with the hobbits?"

"I will feed them and look after them," said Faramir. "I want to extract a little more information out of them before I release them. They are not under my father's warrant—only you have that honor."

"Great. I'm flattered." My eyes narrowed. "You'd better not take me back to Minas Tirith so your father can throw me in prison."

"I cannot take you anywhere," said Faramir. "You would disappear as soon as you wish."

"Not as I wish," I said. "I have no control over the Skipping. Except when I throw myself off a building."

"You have thrown yourself from a building?" asked Faramir with genuine concern.

"Multiple times. Not a fun experience. Especially since I'm terrified of heights."

"Did you throw yourself off a building this time?"

I snorted. "Nope. This time was against my will. I was one date—with a cute guy. And now it's ruined. He's going to think I ditched him, and I'm going to die alone."

"That is a serious problem," said Faramir. "I would not want you to die alone."

"Thanks—"

Skip.

"—a lot."

The movie theater was dark. A different movie played on the screen. A horror movie, to be precise. Blood had splattered everywhere, and some blonde girl let out a goat-like scream.

"What are you doing?"

I glanced down and found that I sat on top of some muscular man with a leather jacket and black beard. He glared at me. The tattoos on his arms rippled as he squeezed his cup of soda so hard that the drink overflowed at the top.

"Sorry!" I said, hopping off his lap. "Didn't mean to do that. I'll, um, I'll just be going now."

And I sprinted out of that movie theater like all hell was after me.