PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter LII: Malfunction

There are many good things about Skipping. I'm not going to deny that. If I hadn't Skipped, I might have died in a car accident when I was kid. If I hadn't Skipped, I wouldn't have made so many friends in Middle Earth. If I hadn't Skipped, I never would have found out the truth about myself. If I hadn't Skipped then I never would have met you—and that was one of the greatest things that have ever happened to me.

What I'm trying to say is that there were good times, but there were also bad times. The fact that I couldn't keep a job. I couldn't have a love life. I lied to my parents constantly. My life was a mess. But I could've handled all of that. The thing I couldn't handle—still can't handle—is death.

Whoever came up with death? It's a shitty idea, I can tell you that. Can't we all just be immortal and live in peace knowing that we'll be together forever?

But you and I both know that's not possible.

So I'll tell you now: this section of my story is not a happy one. This is one of those bad moments. One of those moments that still keeps me up at night because I know that if I close my eyes, I'll relive it all over again in my dreams.

Just warning you. Are you warned? Yes? Then, let's go.

I actually didn't Skip again for a good month after my visit with Kíli, Fíli, and Dis. Which was unfortunate because I couldn't wait to get back to the Company and tease Kíli about his blond hair.

I spent that month searching for a new job, which I found at the coffee shop down the road from my apartment building. I was terrified I was going to screw things up (again), and they would kick me out of the coffee shop for good. Which would have been a shame, because I really liked their coffee blend. The good news is that, as an employee, I was allowed to have free drinks.

Also, there was more good news—a cute guy who worked at the coffee shop with me. And by "cute" I mean "Oh my God! He's smoking hot!" And perfectly my type too: under six foot with dark hair and blue eyes. He also had nicely sculpted muscles, and the facial features of an angel. I mean, really, Aiden was perfect. Except for his name. I don't know why, but I can't stand the name Aiden. I can't even stand to tell you a story with the name Aiden in it. So, we're going to call him Raoul instead.

So, this part of the story begins when I was working at the coffee shop on Friday afternoon with Raoul (such a great name), and Nick and Bonnie decided to come visit.

Nick leaned over the counter and grinned at me. "Hello, beautiful."

"Go away," I said.

"Ana," said Raoul as he restocked the paper cups, "You can't talk like that to the customers."

"See," said Nick. "He knows what's going on." Nick turned to me and said, "I'll have a large with one pump caramel, one pump white mocha, two scoops vanilla bean powder, extra ice frappuchino with two shots poured over the top—apagotto style—with caramel drizzle under and on top of the whipped cream, double cupped."

Raoul stopped what he was doing and stared at Nick. "Get out or I'll shove the caramel pump down your throat."

(Oh right, I should probably explain that Raoul and Nick were roommates in college freshman year. Otherwise Raoul may come off as unstable… You already think he's unstable, don't you? I should have explained that sooner. Not everyone can be the perfect storyteller, you know.)

Nick laughed. "What happened to 'you can't talk like that to the customers'?"

"Nick," I said, tapping the order into the register. "Play nice."

"You're just talking like that because you've got a huge crush on Raoul," said Bonnie, elbowing Nick out the way so she could get to the counter. "I want a large sugar free, non-fat, no foam, extra caramel, with whip caramel macchiato. Then pour regular coffee down the side with two packs of raw sugar and a stir stick on the side. Not in the middle, on the side."

I stared at Bonnie and then at Nick and then back to Bonnie. "I hate you both."

I rung them up (I might have added a little extra to the price…) and then Raoul and I moved behind the counter to make the orders.

"Why are my friends so mean?" I asked.

"At least Nick hasn't tried to ship you with anyone yet."

I glared at Raoul.

"Oh, he has." Raoul grinned. (Oh my Lord, was it possible for the guy to get any hotter?) "He kept trying to set me up with my ultimate love match, me and Taylor, all freshman year. It drove me insane. Nick would be like 'Let's get lunch', so I show up at Buffalo Wild Wings expecting to see Nick—and Taylor's sitting there instead. No Nick in sight. Annoying."

"Well, he hasn't gone to that extreme," I said. (Thank God, Thorin lived in Middle Earth.) "But he's convinced that Thorin and I share the ultimate love."

"Well, he's the ultimate prick," said Raoul. He handed Bonnie her coffee before turning back to me. "But it worked out in the end. Taylor and I have been going out for almost three years now."

My stomach dropped a stone. All those little bubbly happy feelings of a possible romance with Raoul? Gone. He had a girlfriend. Gone. Just a void of emptiness inside me where my love life ought to be. Thanks a lot, Nick.

I finished making Nick's coffee (I may or may not have added a questionable substance to it) and handed it to him. Nick and Bonnie made their way across the coffee shop to a little metal table by the window. They grinned and waved at me, but I ignored them, determinedly cleaning the coffee machine.

"So who is Nick trying to set you up with?" asked Raoul.

"Oh. You know. A guy." A dwarf. "We're just friends though."

"Well, 'just friends' often means something more." Raoul wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. He paused and then laughed. "I'm crazy."

(Do you not see this? He's crazy, I was crazy…Raoul and I would have been soulmates! Except that his name is actually Aiden… But still! Thanks a lot, Nick!)

"It's less a friendship as it is that I'm a huge fan of the guy and he tolerates me," I said.

"A fan?"

"He's majestic," I said, gloomily.

"Oh." Raoul suddenly looked extremely grim. He leaned back against the counter and nodded. "I see. Majesty is serious business."

"It is," I said. "Without majesty, the world would be out of balance."

"Evil would triumph, and we would all be burning in the fires of hell."

"There would be no good left," I said.

"It's all about majesty."

"Majesty."

"Majesty."

Raoul and I stood there for a minute, both of us nodding and saying majesty at random moments. Then, suddenly, I stopped and said, "I'm going to go talk to Nick and Bonnie." I turned around and dragged myself to the other side of the store where my friends sat. I lifted up my hand and karate-chopped the back of Nick's head.

"Ow!" cried Nick. "What was that for?"

"You. Set. My. Soul. Mate. Up. With. Another. Girl."

Nick blinked, confused at first. Then he tipped his head back an laughed. "Taylor is boy."

I stopped trying to beat Nick to death and stared at him blankly. "What?"

"Taylor is a boy. Raoul is gay."

It took me three seconds to register what had just been said.

"Nick," I said, trying to be patient. "Don't lie to me. No."

Nick grinned at me.

"You're kidding." I ran a hand through my messy hair and let out a little laugh. "Whatever. It doesn't matter—I can work with that. I can work with a guy who's attracted to other guys. Come on, he's perfect! He's my soulmate…"

Nick was bent over with laughter. Even Bonnie was smiling at my expense.

"We've all make the mistake at some point," said Bonnie.

"Who? Oh right." I pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with them. "The ex-boyfriend."

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

Nick managed to stop laughing long enough to lift his head above table height. "But you have to admit—this was funny."

"Shut up," I said.

"Why can't you just accept your ultimate love with Thorin?" asked Nick. "You two will have the perfect romance. You'll be the overly emotional, overly enthusiastic wife and he'll be the serious, sarcastic husband and you'll live in Erebor together and have little dwarf children with ridiculous names like… like Lomebrilas and Ethelfride."

"They would be Azaghâl and Reth," I said. "You obviously don't know a word of dwarvish."

"Whoa," said Bonnie. "You've already picked out names for your and Thorin's children?"

"Don't be silly," I said. "They're names for Gimli's and my children. Gimli just happens to be a dwarf too."

"Ana has a lot of Dwaromances going on," said Nick. "First Thorin, then Gimli, and now Kíli."

"I'm just a regular player," I muttered.

"Ana? A player? I can't see that," said Raoul who had appeared behind me.

I squeaked and—in that moment of embarrassed terror—I Skipped.

Damn it. I was so blaming Nick for all of this.

I folded my arms over my chest and squinted at the scene before me. Well, the good news was I was no longer near Raoul, and I wouldn't have to face him with the knowledge that our romance would never come true. The bad news is that I was surrounded by orcs and men.

All wall of stone spanned in front and behind me with countless orcs and men, their blades flashing in the light of flickering torches. A starless night sky stretched overhead, heavy clouds threatening rain. Swords and axes flashed around me, and hot blood sprayed onto my right arm I screamed.

"Ana?"

At the sound of my name, I spun around. There was an orc holding a massive blade above his head. He was about to cleave my skull in half, but for some reason he was hesitating. Then, I saw the sword sticking out of his stomach. The orc's eyes rolled into the back of his head. He let out a high-pitched moan and then collapsed at my feet. Purple blood oozed from his gut onto the stone floor of the wall.

Aragorn stood behind the orc, panting and gasping for breath.

"Hi," I said, waving.

"Look out!" Aragorn pushed me to the side and thrust his sword forward. The blade plunged into an orc's chest. There was a cracking sound as the sword broke through bone. My stomach churned, and I thought I was going to throw up on the orc's feet. The creature screamed as Aragorn yanked his sword out.

"Why are you here?" asked Aragorn.

"I don't have any control!" I shrieked. "I was working in a coffee shop—and I had just found out that my soulmate was gay!"

Aragorn frowned. "I thought Thorin was your soulmate. That was what Nick said…"

"No! Don't ever listen to Nick!"

"We can discuss this later." Aragorn pushed me aside to slice off an orc's head. "Run!"

"Where?"

"Anywhere but here!" roared Aragorn. His sword was drenched in dark blood.

The battle was everywhere. On one side of the stone wall, there was an army of orcs—yelling, shouting, cursing—and on the other, there was an army of human archers. On top of the wall, men and orcs clashed. Blood stained every inch of the stone, and bodies littered the ground. It was a battlefield. My gaze followed the line of the wall, and I saw that it was connected to a stone keep, a massive fortress carved from the side of a mountain. More human soldiers decorated the walls of the fortress, firing arrows towards the army of orcs.

"Where are we?" I asked in a small voice.

Aragorn wrenched his sword out of an orc's chest and raised it to meet the knife of another. A shadow appeared over me. As an orc lifted an axe over my head, I heard Aragorn say, "Helm's Deep."

Skip.

I was standing in the coffee shop again, next to the little metal table. My hands were thrown over my face, and I was cringing away from a now non-existent orc.

Nick and Bonnie leapt up from their seats. Raoul's mouth was hanging open.

"Ana?" asked Nick, taking a tentative step closer to me. "What's wrong? What happened this time?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I tried not to think of the bloodshed and violence and the piles of corpses on the walls of Helm's Deep. Instead, I thought of the ale and the songs and the partying that had happened after. "We went to the celebration," I said. "So we're definitely gonna win."

"Win what?" asked Raoul.

Skip.

I was standing on the wall once more. An obese orc with bulging eyes let out a bellow and lifted his scimitar into the air. The sword came down towards my head. I stepped backwards and tripped over a corpse—narrowly avoiding the sharp blade. I lay on top of the dead body and screamed. The orc roared again, drawing back the scimitar a second time.

There was the clang of metal on metal as Éomer's sword made contact with the orc's. Éomer pushed the orc backward and then swung his sword, separating the orc's head from its body.

"Éomer!" I flung my arms around his right leg. "I love you!"

"Why are you here?" asked Éomer, his voice was tense with worry. "This is no place for you."

"Don't you think I don't know that?" I shrieked. "I don't want to die!"

Two orcs caught sight of Éomer and me. They bared their teeth and started towards us, their blades glinting in the orange light of the torches.

"Ana, release me!" Éomer tried to shake his leg out of my grasp. "I cannot fight with you clinging on to me."

I let go, and he leapt away from me, sword raised and expression fierce. But there were two of them and only one of him. There were too many. I couldn't let Éomer die. I knew he was supposed to survive the Battle of Helm's Deep, but what if my presence screwed things up somehow? What if I got someone killed?

Skip.

"Éomer!" I lunged forward and grabbed onto his leg. Only it wasn't Éomer anymore. I was holding onto Raoul's leg.

"What is going on?" asked Raoul. "What's happening?"

"Ah!" I let go of Raoul and jumped backwards. The idea of Skipping to Middle Earth with him was horrifying. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Skip.

"Ana, stop screaming."

I closed my mouth at the sound of the familiar, gruff voice. Gimli stood over me, his axe resting on his shoulder and his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

The sound of metal filled the air, and I realized that we were still at the Battle of Helm's Deep. With a yelp, I moved to cower behind Gimli's short, broad shoulders. He swung his axe and buried the head into the gut of an orc. Then he wrenched the axe out and the orc stumbled backwards before collapsing to the ground.

"Twenty-one," said Gimli. He spun around. I yelped and leapt out of the way of the axe as Gimli sliced open the stomach of another orc.

"Twenty-two."

"What are you doing?" I cried.

"Counting," said Gimli. "I must defeat the elf."

"The elf?" I glanced down the wall and saw Legolas prancing around with his long knife. He moved with quick efficiency, the white knife blade darkened with blood. I swallowed back the bile in my throat and said, "In that case, carry on. I hope you win."

Skip.

"Ana," cried Nick, leaping up from his seat. "What is going on?"

I was standing in the coffee shop again. Thank God the coffee shop was mostly empty. The two old ladies in the corner were watching the scene with curiosity, and the bald man at the table next to ours was wearing an expression of disbelief and horror. But other than that, it was only Raoul, Nick, and Bonnie in the coffee shop. Nick and Bonnie seemed frantic as they tried to figure out how to stop this from happening. Raoul was just plain confused.

"Why does she keep disappearing?" asked Raoul. "What's going on?"

I gasped for breath. "This shouldn't be happening…"

"Ana, stay here." Bonnie reached out a hand to grab hold of me.

Before she could touch me, I flinched away. "No!"

"Ana?" Bonnie looked hurt, like I had offended her.

"Don't touch me," I said. "You don't want to Skip. You don't want to see."

"But…" Bonnie's hand curled into a fist.

"What's happening?" asked Raoul. "Are you okay? Is that blood?"

"I'm—"

Skip.

I was standing on that damned wall again, surrounded by contorted, dead bodies. Some of their limbs had been hacked off, some of them were missing heads. Men, elves, and orcs. The sight of them would haunt me forever, the memory of their lips stretched into eternal screams.

For the first time since the Skips to Helm's Deep began, I pulled the Sword Breaker out of my right boot and held it in my trembling hand. It would be okay. Everything would be okay. No more screaming. I would be ready the next time an orc attacked.

"Ana? What are you doing? Get out of here!"

I spun around to see Dorthin sprinting through the battle. He leapt over the dead bodies and dodged through the orcs' scimitars. His left shoulder was dripping blood, but other than that he seemed whole and in one piece.

No, My heart was pounding. My head started to spin. Dorthin died. That's what they had told me. Dorthin died in the Battle of Helm's Deep.

Oh God.

"No!" I screamed. "Dorthin, please, I don't want to see! Don't make me see!"

"Run away!" Dorthin grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me along the wall with him. I stumbled over the dead bodies and narrowly avoided getting my head sliced open. I fell over several times, but Dorthin just pulled me along after him. My right knee was bleeding. I don't know what I'd cut it on.

"Stop!" I cried. "Stop! Stop!"

"I cannot," said Dorthin. "They have explosives."

"Who?"

I needn't have asked. Right then, the wall blew up. Fire and stone met, and a massive explosion echoed through Helm's Deep. Rock and dirt went flying in all directions. Dorthin and I were thrown backwards in the blast. His hand released my wrist.

Skip.

I slammed into a window. The glass broke under my weight. I went sailing through the window and landed—with a heavy crack—on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. There was blood. I didn't know if it was mine or Dorthin's or Éomer's or an orc's. It was all the same right then.

Bonnie screamed.

"What's going on?" asked Raoul.

"Don't make me go back." I was crying. My tears tasted like salt and metal. Like blood. "Please, don't send me back."

Skip.

King Théoden was staring down at the ruins of the wall, at the ruins of Rohan's defenses. Rock and the corpses of elves, men, and orcs were scattered beneath the wall. As the dust and embers disappeared, the army of orcs started to charge through the gap in the wall.

"What should we do?" asked one of the commanders.

"Retreat?" asked another.

My face was buried in my hands. "Don't let them die…not again…please…please, Théoden…"

Théoden spun around. He hadn't seen me before I spoke. He leapt forward and grabbed my wrists. He pulled my hands away from my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. He looked so weary. It was raining, and his blond hair was matted to the sides of his face. I was ugly. I was crying and bloodied and wet. We were both exhausted and worn to a thread.

"Please…" I whispered. "He cannot die again."

Théoden gave the barest hint of a nod. He released my hands spun around to face his commanders. He said something that I did not hear because I had already Skipped away.

"Where did she go?" asked Raoul.

"She does this," said Bonnie. "She Skips to another wo—Ana, you're back!"

I was sitting on the floor of the coffee shop. Crying. Crying. Crying. I couldn't make the tears stop. They just kept falling. Endless tears. I hate death.

I knew Rohan was going to win this war. I knew because I'd been at the celebration. I'd drunk with the survivors. The mourning had been sad, but I'd never fully realized the extent of the death and destruction that had happened in Helm's Deep. How could these men go on? How could they get up and walk, take, sing, eat, even dance only a few days later? How?

Skip.

"Why do you keep turning up at the worst times?"

Éomer stood over me. His sword was drawn, and he kept glancing from left to right. An orc attacked him, and Éomer drove his sword into the orc's right shoulder. The orc lifted his blade, but Éomer jerked his sword upward, tearing open the orc's chest and splattering purple blood everywhere.

"Éomer!" Taysend raced past me. "Hurry, the king called for a retreat!"

"Ana?" Gaenry was standing behind me, his sword resting on his shoulder. "Why are you here?"

"I thought you died in the explosion," said Dorthin, breathing a sigh of relief. "I could not find you anywhere."

"She is crying," observed Taysend.

"Of course, I'm crying!" I shouted through the snot and tears. "Have you seen where we are?"

"Have you?" asked Éomer. "There is no time for tears in battle, Ana."

"We must move out," said Taysend impatiently.

He led Gaenry and Dorthin back towards the keep. Éomer grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.

Skip.

"Who is that?" cried Nick.

I was standing in the coffee shop again. With Nick. And Bonnie. And Raoul. And Éomer.

I screamed. "Éomer? Why are you here? Why?"

Éomer was staring at the coffee shop, his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide. He was still holding his sword and dressed in full, blood-stained battle armor. He looked so out of place and so awkward.

"Where did he come from?" asked Raoul.

"I told you," said Bonnie. "He came from another world called Middle Earth."

I wrapped my arms around Éomer's shoulders and cried, "Skip us back!"

"I don't think that's going to work," said Raoul.

"Ana," said Éomer, "the people here talk as strangely as you."

Skip.

We were standing in the keep. I immediately released Éomer and put as much distance between the two of us as I could. I should never bring Middle Earth people back to Ohio. It was bad enough with Boromir. I didn't want to go through the pain of thinking I'd saved someone only to have to sacrifice them again. Or what if my Skipping changed events, and somehow Taysend or Gaenry or even Éomer ended up dead along with Dorthin. No. It was better to leave things be.

Skip.

"Why won't it stop?" I cried.

Skip.

"Ana, where did you come from?" asked Taysend.

"You are bleeding." Gaenry reached out a hand to touch me, perhaps fix up my wounds, but I pulled away. I didn't want anyone to touch me I didn't want anyone else to Skip.

"Where is Dorthin?" I asked.

Taysend frowned. "He is fighting."

I closed my eyes. That was what was meant to happen. He was supposed to die in the Battle of Helm's Deep. But still, it hurt. "No, he's going to—"

Skip.

"—die again!"

I was kneeling in the coffee shop. I wasn't crying anymore, but my breath was coming out in short, sharp pants. My arms and legs were splattered with blood. Some of it belonged to orcs. Some of it belonged to men. Some of it was my own. I couldn't see. The world was fuzzy. I didn't know up from down or left from right. Where was I? Was I in Middle Earth now? Or was I in Ohio? I didn't know. Raoul was here. Or maybe that was Éomer. I didn't know anymore. I was going crazy.

Skip.

"Dorthin!"

Skip.

This was how it was meant to happen. No matter how much it hurt.

Skip.

Skip.

Skip.

Skip.

It was a relief when everything faded to black.