PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter XXX: The Importance of Boromir

Boromir stayed in Ohio for about a week. I remember that week well. The first day (it was a Thursday in July) he refused to go outside. He was certain the skyscrapers would collapse on him. He spent the day watching seasons four and five of Buffy the Vampire Slayer with Nick. By some miracle, I still had a job at the sandwich shop, and I had to go to work that day. After making sandwiches for lines of complaining, bitter customers, I went home to find that Nick and Boromir were still sitting on my couch, commenting on how "Spuffy" was so much better than "Bangel".

So, when Friday came along, I insisted Boromir get out of my apartment. Nick suggested that Boromir wear some normal clothes, but the moment he put on the t-shirt and jeans Nick leant to him, Boromir complained that they were itchy and strange. He refused to wear anything other than his equally strange clothing from Middle Earth. (If anyone asked, Nick and I just said there was a renaissance fair in town.)

Then, the three of us went to Starbucks, where I tried to teach Boromir to love coffee, since I couldn't be friends with someone who didn't like coffee. Unfortunately, Boromir's and my friendship ended that day. His hatred for anything remotely coffee-tasting continued. Then, Nick, being Nick, decided to buy Boromir some hot chocolate and Boromir swore that it was the best thing he had ever tasted.

Coffee is better than hot chocolate. Just saying.

I was working Saturday and Sunday, so the time I spent with Boromir and Nick was limited. I think they spent Saturday on the couch watching the sixth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (where, gasp, Spuffy became canon!) and watched the final seventh season on Sunday before going to the nearest bar and drowning their sorrows (the finale was apparently that emotional). That night, Boromir soundly defeated Nick in a drinking competition. Come Monday, we all went to the bar, and both Nick and Boromir beat me soundly in a drinking competition.

Tuesday, I wanted to take Boromir bowling. (So he could know that I was good at something.). Much to Nick's disappointment, after about two rounds Boromir figured out how to bowl properly. Of course, as much as he tried, Boromir couldn't outscore me. (The Bowling master shall never be defeated!)

When Wednesday rolled around, I convinced them to go to the zoo with me. Nick decided to invite Karen along, much to my disappointment, but I decided to tolerate her presence. After all, Nick had been keeping an eye on Boromir all week for me. Boromir, of course, had no idea what a zoo was or what kind of animals were kept there, so the whole experience was a little overwhelming for him.

"The animals are in enclosures?" asked Boromir.

"It's so the lions don't get too hungry and decide that cute little kid would make a tasty snack," I explained.

"I don't think that's the complete reason," said Nick. "It's also for their protection—"

"Nope," I said, cutting across Nick. "My explanation is the best. We're sticking with it."

Karen was eyeing Boromir suspiciously. He was still dressed in his Middle Earth clothes (sword and everything). To this day, I cannot explain how we got him past security into the zoo. My excuse was that he was a devoted renaissance fan and his sword was a fake. Yes, the security actually believed me and let Boromir through. I know. I'm at a loss for words too.

"So what should we see first?" asked Nick.

"The lions," said Karen eagerly.

"Boring," I said. "Let's go see the monkeys."

"I like the lions," sad Nick. He turned to Boromir. "What do you want?"

"I do not know," said Boromir. "Do you have any Kine of Araw here?"

We all stared at Boromir blankly. Nick and I exchanged nervous glances and then burst out laughing.

"That's a good one," I said, patting Boromir on the back. "I forgot how much of a joker you are."

"My sides hurt!" cried Nick.

Karen frowned. "I don't get it."

"I do not understand either," said Boromir. "What is so amusing?"

"You are." I stood upright, my sides hurting from the fake laughter, and cried, "Let's go see the monkeys!"

I started towards the monkey enclosure, but Nick caught me by the collar of my shirt and dragged be backwards towards the group.

"We'll see the monkeys last," said Nick. "Karen wants to see the lions."

With a sigh, I followed Nick as he led the way across the zoo to look at the lion exhibit. Karen didn't seem all that thrilled by the lions; she preferred to hold Nick's hand and start up flirtatious, whispered conversations with him. I spent most of the zoo trip making faces behind Karen's back while Boromir either made sarcastic remarks about my stupidity or stared at the animals in wide-eyed wonder.

"What are these beasts called?" asked Boromir, pointing into the enclosure. "Their coats are magnificent."

"Zebras," I said.

"I'm thirsty," said Karen, still clinging to Nick's hand. "Can you get me some lemonade?"

"Sure thing." Nick released her hand and started towards the food stand.

"What is this lemonade?" asked Boromir.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Come on. I'll treat you."

Curious, Boromir followed Nick to the food stand. I watched them for a second. Boromir was so out of his element that it was almost comical. He really had no idea what was going on. Nick laughed at him a lot—as Nick always does. It was good though. They were both alive and whole. Nick had survived goblin town and Boromir had survived the orcs. It was good.

I leaned against the enclosure fence. "It's hot out. I should have asked for some lemonade."

"I'm sure what's-his-name will share with you," said Karen.

"What's-his-name?"

"The renaissance guy." She said it sarcastically, like she didn't really believe it.

"Oh." I laughed. "He's, um, really good at the jousting stuff, you know.

Karen shot me a deadly glare. "I'm not stupid."

"Really?" I sounded genuinely surprised.

"You and Nick know something about Boromir. Something you won't tell. He's not a renaissance guy. Maybe he's a foreigner, but there's no reason to hide that. No. There's something else going on here."

I glanced at Karen. "And you haven't asked?"

"Why?" she asked. "If Nick thought it important to me, he would have told me."

"That's true. It's not his secret to tell."

"Whose secret is it then?" asked Karen.

I drummed my fingers against the railing. "Mine, I guess. And Boromir's."

"Exactly," said Karen. "I know Nick, but I have absolutely nothing to do with you and what's-his-name so your secrets are none of my business." Karen turned her head to check and see if the guys had gotten the lemonade yet.

I stared at her for a moment, a frown fixed on my face.

"They're coming," said Karen.

"You know," I said. "I severely misjudged you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Karen blinked "Why?"

"For all the times I called you a bitch."

Her confusion turned into annoyance. "Why'd you call me a bitch?"

"Don't feel special or anything," I said. "I call all of Nick's girlfriends bitches. He has really bad taste in girlfriends. But, you know, you're not half-bad. I might not mind it if Nick dates you. Maybe."

Karen glowered at me. The words "seething hatred" seemed to be dripping from her gaze. "You told Nick I was a bitch?"

"And advised him to break up with you," I said, nodding. "But I'm changing my mind now."

"You what?"

Sensing an argument, Nick materialized between us, holding plastic cups in both our faces. "We come bearing lemonade!"

I pushed off from the wall with the palms of my hands and grabbed the plastic cup from Nick. "You got one for me too!"

"I didn't want you to feel left out," said Nick. He turned to Karen. "I got you one too."

"She called me a bitch!" cried Karen.

Nick turned to me. "Did you really just call my girlfriend a bitch?"

"Not recently," I said. "I told her that I used to tell you she was a bitch and you should break up with her all the time, but now I realize she isn't that bad. You shouldn't break up with her, Nick."

Karen stared at me.

"You really just shouldn't have told her that," said Nick. "But I'm glad you're coming around to see how amazing and awesome my girlfriend is." He smiled at Karen but she was still too angry at me to notice.

"This thing called lemonade," said Boromir suddenly. "Is rather good. It has a sweet taste but also a sour taste. It is quite bizarre." He took another sip of the lemonade. "It is much better than that murky brown substance that Ana gave to me."

"Hey!" I cried. "Don't you be dissing coffee right in front of me."

"It's okay," said Nick, patting Boromir on the shoulder. "We all like lemonade more than coffee. Ana is just, you know, Ana."

"It's coffee!" I cried. "How can you dislike coffee?"

"You can keep your coffee for yourself," said Boromir. "But I wish I could take some of this lemonade back with me."

I frowned. "You don't have to go back."

A sort of awkward silence settled about the four of us. Karen looked off in the distance, pretending she couldn't hear anything we said. Nick kept glanced back and forth between Boromir and me. The two of us were glaring at one another.

"I do," said Boromir. "I made a promise, and I intend to keep it."

"You'll die."

Karen twitched but didn't say anything.

"You do not know that for certain."

"I know it for almost certain."

"You cannot change the future, Ana."

"I've already done it."

Boromir shook his head. "If I must die for the sake of our task, then I will willingly do so. You have no right to interfere."

"But I do!" I cried. "I'm your friend! Doesn't that count for anything? Don't I get a say?"

"Why would you get a say in my decision?" snapped Boromir. "When I agreed to join the Fellowship, I did so knowing that I could die, knowing that it was a very likely end. I did so for Gondor, for my people, for my father, for my brother, for my home. What do you know of my choices, why I am willing to take such a risk, why I am willing to die for this? How could you understand? Middle Earth is not your home."

I stopped. Boromir stopped too. We just stood there, staring at one another. Neither one of us moved an inch. To my right, Nick was opening and closing his mouth like an idiot. To my left, Karen was running her fingers along the metal railing of the enclosure, refusing to look at anyone in particular. I was thankful for that. I didn't need an audience to witness the pain that rippled through my chest and made my eyes water.

I dashed away the tears with the back of my hand, took a deep breath, and said, "I want to see the monkeys."

Boromir blinked. He looked taken aback by the sudden change in direction. He glanced at both Karen and Nick for help, but they both leapt on my statement.

"The monkeys sound great," said Karen.

Nick nodded eagerly. "I like monkeys."

I led the way across the zoo to the monkey section. Nick and Karen were holding hands, whispering to one another, while Boromir walked slowly at the back of the group. My chest was tight, but I refused to look at him, refused to even think of apologizing or listening to an apology.

I didn't want him to apologize. I didn't want him to acknowledge that we'd fought at all. Middle Earth is not your home. He was right. It wasn't. There was no need for him to apologize for saying that. But just because Middle Earth wasn't my home, it didn't mean I was going to let him die.

The first enclosure we came upon was the spider monkeys.

"I love monkeys," I said as two monkeys swung about the ropes in their enclosure.

"They're cute," said Karen.

"They're all right," muttered Nick.

Karen slapped his arm playfully. "Leave the monkey's alone." (But by bit, she was growing on me.)

We stood there for a while, watching the monkeys. Actually, I don't think Boromir had even looked at the monkeys once. He kept shifting from side to side, glancing at me. I think he was trying to apologize. I didn't give him the opportunity. Every time it seemed like he was going to say something to me, I'd suddenly point out something cool about spider monkeys.

"Look at them, all sleeping together. Spider monkeys in the wild do a similar thing. At night, when it's time to go to sleep, they'll split into group of around thirty and sleep all together. But then during the day, they split up into smaller groups and go forage for food."

Nick sighed. "She's never going to stop talking."

I Skipped.

"Well," said Nick. "That's one way to stop her."

(I don't actually know if he said that. He claims he did, but I kind of suspect he thought of that later and only wished that he'd said it.)

Anyway, what Nick said or didn't say doesn't matter. What mattered was that I was no longer in Ohio with Karen, Nick, and Boromir. I was standing in the middle of a forest. Crisp leaves littered the ground, and the flourishing trees formed a sort of roof overhead, allowing on glimpses of the blue sky overhead. These trees were younger than those in Fangorn, with a sort of eagerness for spring.

There were no people. Just me. Alone.

At least, I hadn't brought Boromir with me. I wouldn't bring him anywhere to die. He could stay in Ohio. He could live in my apartment and get a job. He'd find a nice girl in Ohio and have a simple, happy life. And as long as he never Skipped back to Middle Earth with me, we'd be good. Boromir could live.

So why did that idiot want to come back to Middle Earth so much?

I started walking through the forest. At first the ground was flat, but it then it started to steepen. The fallen leaves made the ground slippery, and it was more of a shuffle downhill than a walk. Eventually, I gave up trying to control my speed, and I just ran down the hill. I skidded to a halt in front of a particularly nasty looking rock.

"Ana?"

Three figures sprinted through the trees towards me. An elf, a man, and a dwarf. Their weapons were drawn and they were gasping for breath as if they had been running or fighting. There was a red wound on Aragorn's shoulder. Definitely fighting.

Gimli came to a halt next to me, panting heavily, Legolas came to a smooth stop as if he'd been gliding on ice. Aragorn, on the other hand, never ceased moving. His eyes flickered left, right, all directions, searching and listening.

"Have you seen the hobbits?" asked Gimli.

"Hobbits?" I frowned. "No. I just got here. Why? Where are they?"

"We do not know," said Legolas. "We were ambushed by orcs. We cannot find the hobbits or Boromir."

"Boromir?"

"He went out in search of firewood and has not been seen since."

I sucked my breath in. Oh God, I knew where in time I was. I was back in Amon Hen, probably right after I slapped Boromir and Skipped him to Ohio. But Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli didn't know that. They didn't know that I had taken Boromir away. Oh God, why did I have to Skip here of all places? I didn't want to see this. I'd be perfectly happy never knowing the consequences of taking Boromir to Ohio. I didn't want to see this.

"Where are the hobbits?" I asked, managing to keep my voice even.

"We do not know,' said Legolas. "We were scattered when the orcs attacked."

Aragorn twitched, as if something had caught his attention. He stood still for a moment, head cocked to the side, listening. The rest of us watched him. Then, Aragorn leapt into action. He sprinted through the forest to some unknown destination. Legolas hurried after him. Gimli and I managed to sprint too, though out sprints were more like waddling ducks. Gimli ran faster than me, and soon I was far behind the rest of them, just trying to keep their backs in view.

Suddenly, Aragorn stopped running. He came to a halt between two arching trees. Legolas stopped beside him, and Gimli came plodding along. I didn't know what they saw, but it made Gimli freeze.

I slowed to a walk and approached the scene as gradually as possible. I didn't want to see. I would rather never know what happened. I would rather remain ignorant. I would rather stay in Ohio with Nick, Karen, and Boromir. That would be best. I could forget about Middle Earth and just live a normal life. Forget it all. Except I can't forget. Because I Skip.

I stepped in between Aragorn and Legolas. And this is what I saw:

There was blood. Lots of blood. Two mangled corpses lay on the ground. The one closest to us was Merry. His eyes were wide open, staring up through the treetops to the blue sky above. About a dozen orc arrows protruded from his chest and stomach. His arms and legs were spread out around him. The right arm was missing a hand, and the left leg was cut short around the knee.

Another body lay a few feet away. It was so mangled that took me a minute to realize whose body it was. His fate had been more gruesome. It was as though a dozen orcs had just hacked at him, swinging their blades about without any care as to what they hit and what they took. Pippin's face had been slashed open. Blood covered his eyes, and his lips had been busted open.

Blood stained the fallen leaves.

I clasped a hand to my mouth and gagged. It was terrible. The blood. The destruction. The death. It was making me sick. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to the ground, coughing and choking. Dead. Dead. Dead. But I had saved them. I had stopped them from going through the Gap of Rohan. They should live now. They should be taken by the orcs, taken towards Isengard to be interrogated by Saruman, but then they should escape the orcs and flee to Fangorn where they would meet Treebeard.

So why were they dead?

I felt Gimli's sturdy hand on my shoulder. I tilted my head to the side and rested my cheek against the hand. Salty tears were streaming down my cheeks. This wasn't right. This wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.

Legolas returned (I hadn't noticed him leave). Aragorn looked at Legolas, a glimmer of faint hope in his eyes, but Legolas gravely shook his head.

"I have found Frodo and Sam," said Legolas. "But no news is good."

"Show me," said Aragorn.

I got to my feet. "I want to see too."

Aragorn hesitated. "It might be better if you stayed here."

"I want to see."

For a moment, I thought Aragorn would refuse me, but then he nodded once. "Very well."

Legolas led the way through the trees. We moved much more slowly this time. Walking. Dreading. We did not want to see the fate that had befallen Frodo and Sam. Gimli was crying. Fat tears dripped down his cheeks and into his beard. Legolas remained calm and collected, murmuring a prayed in elvish under his breath. Aragorn looked haggard and worn, as if his age was finally showing. None of us wanted to know what was next. And yet, we had to see.

Legolas led us onto the rocky beach. Our feet stumbled awkwardly on the uneven stones. The white boats given to the Fellowship by Lady Galadriel had been pulled up onto the shore and hidden by some bushes. We stepped past the hidden boats and saw the horrific scene.

Frodo and Sam had died together. Their bodies were intertwined into a mess of limbs and blood. At some points it was hard to separate Frodo from Sam.

Aragorn stepped forward. A haunted look crossed his face as he unwillingly inspected the bodies.

"They took the Ring."

So much blood. So much death. But it shouldn't have happened this way. Frodo and Sam should reach Gondor. They shouldn't be dead. This was wrong. All wrong. Why was this happening?

"Where is Boromir?" asked Aragorn.

And then it hit me.

Oh yes, it hit me full force. The horror of what I had done.

A wrangled cry broke through my throat, and I buried my face in my hands, letting the hot tears drip down my face. Everything hurt. My eyes, my throat, my nose, my arms, my legs, my chest. It all ached. I felt tired. So tired. The wailing broke through my throat, blistering and heavy. I cried and cried and yet, there were no tears that could let me escape.

And then, I Skipped.

I knelt on the pathway outside the spider monkey enclosure. My face was still buried in my hands and the tears would not stop. I could hear the voices and exclamations of people passing by, but I paid them no attention. My grief and horror and misery was too great for the rest of the world to have meaning.

Someone touched my shoulder, and finally, I lifted my head to see Nick.

"Ana?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

I shook my head. The tears would not stop flowing. "They're dead. The hobbits. They're all dead."