Disclaimer: I don't own. Please don't sue.

Author's note: I reuploaded this chapter because I received some messages that people couldn't see it. Second time's the charm?

I woke up the next morning with conflicting emotions. Not in the mood to deal with it, I shoved the feelings into a dark room in my mind and shut the door. I couldn't do this forever, but I was never an emotional person, and I saw no reason to start being one now, I decided as I got dressed and started looking for Rose.

She was ridiculously easy to find. The sounds of heaving and loud cursing led me to her office, where she was doubled over a bucket.

"Good Lord, Rose," I said, rushing to her side and holding back her hair. "Are you ok? Did you eat something bad?"

She took a deep breath and sat back, grabbing a washcloth from the desk beside her. "No, I'm fine. It's just morning sickness, is all. It's passing now."

"You're pregnant," I gasped, earning a questioning look from her.

"I'm a married woman in a world without birth control. And have you SEEN who I'm married to? The man could be the poster boy for virility," she commented as she stood. "Man, I'd kill for graham crackers and peanut butter," she muttered.

"You need protein and sugar," I said. At her questioning look, I elaborated. "Cravings are your body's way of telling you what nutrients you need, and from what you said, it's probably protein from the peanut butter and sugar from the graham crackers."

"Well, since I just threw up my breakfast, I'm going to go for seconds," she said with a shrug as she walked to the door. "I'm sure you're hungry, too. Come on."

I followed her down through the house to the kitchen, which was filled with servants bustling around or eating their own breakfasts. Everyone stood up as we entered, but Rose flapped her hands dismissively. "No, no, don't mind us. Go back to whatever you were doing. We're just here to raid the kitchen."

"My Ladies, is there something in particular you are looking for," offered an older woman as she came up to us.

"Halath," Rose greeted cheerfully, reaching up to give the old woman a kiss on the cheek. The woman blushed and twittered, evidently unused to receiving affection from the nobility she served. "Leigh, this is Haleth, the most amazing cook in Gondor. Haleth, this is Leigh. She's…" our eyes met as she floundered for words.

"We are kinsmen," I supplied, taking Haleth's hand and shaking it.

"KINSMEN!" Rose threw her hands in the air. "That's the word I was looking for! Silly me. Anywho, I thoroughly enjoyed the breakfast you made Boromir and I, but I'm afraid morning sickness got the better of me. Leigh and I have come to scrounge up something else to eat," she said, throwing her arm around the other woman's shoulders. Haleth smiled and patted the younger girl's cheek in a maternal affection.

"Come on, lasses. I did not get 4 grandchildren by not knowing how to feed an expectant mother," she chuckled as we sat at a small table.

"So, Lady Leigh, do you have a husband waiting for you back home," the older woman asked conversationally as she cracked eggs in a pan.

"No, ma'am," I said awkwardly. "I've never been married."

You know how, when you're about to say something you don't want many people to hear, the room goes quiet at that exact moment? Yeah. Good times.

"Oh…well…." The older woman was clearly scrambling for words. "My youngest daughter was older when she was finally married, as well."

"Och, now you dun it," laughed a young maid as she washed dishes. "Haleth won't rest until she has you matched up with some fine lad."

"Well, with how romantically cheesy all the men here are, I doubt she would have any trouble," I said quipped as I took a drink from my goblet.

The women looked at me in confusion. "What do you mean," Rose asked quizzically.

"Last night, I got your note and went out on the balcony and while I was looking at the stars, this man starts talking to me. I think I said something about Romeo and Juliet, and he climbed up the balcony to talk to me," I explained.

Rose frowned. "Men here in…uh…Gondor" she improvised as she glanced at the two other women, "aren't normally that romantic. Sure, they're more honorable than the men we're used to, but these guys are just men. That's a pretty nifty story. Did he tell you his name?"

"No," I said, frowning now too. "I refused to give him mine, and just kept calling him Romeo." Rose quirked an eyebrow and opened her mouth to speak, but was beaten to it.

"What are Romeo and Juliet," the maid asked curiously. Rose and I shared a look, and she gestured for me to take this one. It was one of my favorite plays, so I launched into the tale. At one point, I got really into it and Rose and I enacted out the sword fight with spoons. By the end of my performance, other staff had come up, and I had gained quite an audience. It was wonderful to tell the story to people who had never heard it before, and who sighed and laughed at all the right places.

"For never was there a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo," I finished. The women who had been listening gave a sigh.

"Let's hope your own Romeo isn't a Capulet," Haleth commented as the maid from earlier took our plates away. I smiled.

"Oh, I doubt I'll ever see him again," I said. "Besides, this is no time to get into a relationship. Hopefully, I won't be here that long."

Rose sighed and stood. "And on that note, we should head back to the study for a chat."

I followed the shorter woman back through the house, and leaned against the desk as she sat down. As was becoming habit with us, we switched to English as soon as we were alone.

"Look, Leigh, I feel like we should have a heart to heart. I promised to help you find a way home, and if there is one, we will. But there's no guarantee one way or the other. The only way I found to go home was by dying, and then only because I threatened a god and beat the snot out of him until he brought me back to life."

I wasn't quite sure what to do with that little anecdote. "How…nevermind. I probably don't want to know." I shook my head. "I know that it's a slim chance I'll be able to go home, but I have to keep looking. I admit, I spent most of last night thinking of ways, but came up empty handed."

"Perhaps you should try to accept life here," she said gently. "I know it seems terrifying, but life here is pretty wonderful. You could be happy here, if you stop tormenting yourself."

I eyed her. "Why do you so badly want me to stay?"

She sighed. "Two reasons. Firstly, because I have zero reason to think that what you want, a way home, is even remotely possible," she said bluntly. "I don't want you to get your hopes up, or drive yourself crazy searching for a way. In our own advanced Age, we couldn't travel between worlds, and it was only a fluke that you did. Secondly, I like having someone here from home."

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. "I appreciate your honesty. Maybe you're right. Maybe I should just give up," I said bitterly.

"Now, you know that's not what I meant," she chastened me. "I don't think you should give up, and you know it. But I also don't want you to not even give this world a fair chance. How many people where we come from would give their lives for an adventure like this?"

I grimaced and stared at the ground as I crossed my arms. "You're pretty shrewd for someone who can't even buy a beer yet," I griped childishly. I saw her smile out of the corner of my eye.

"I try." She shrugged. "And I can say from experience that there's no such thing as a drinking age here, so your other point is moot."

I laughed and uncrossed my arms. "Alright, alright. So, I shouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Show me Minas Tirith."

"Excellent," she said with a 1,000 watt smile. This girl's energy could power a third world country for a month.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Several hours had passed by the time we returned to her opulent townhouse, and we were both exhausted, her from her pregnancy, and me from…well….being out of shape. Over the last several hours, it felt like we had walked the entire span of Minas Tirith seven times over, and my host had almost literally beamed with pride for her city the entire way as she pointed out things and gave me history lessons. By the end, I felt like I could write an entire doctoral dissertation on Minas Tirith, and since I had actually had to right one before, it wasn't a comparison I made lightly. I felt sorry for her guard, Tauron, who had to follow us around.

It had been a bit unsettling at times. The people in Minas Tirith were clearly EITHER Gondorian OR Rohirrim, and it was easy to tell the difference between the two: the Gondorians were very dark, and generally had grey eyes, while the Rohirrim were the polar opposite, with pale skin and blond hair that varied only slightly in its shades. The scientist in me was extremely curious at how such polar opposites were possible, but then I realized that, in a world of elves and wizards and magic, it was extremely silly to be disconcerted at hair color. Still, with my bright red hair and green eyes and glasses (another thing that I hadn't seen once since coming here), I stuck out like a sore thumb, and I found myself unnerved by stares I got.

Still, Minas Tirith was a spectacular city. We had gone to one of the markets during the day, and Rose had pushed me into selecting material for an entire new wardrobe. I felt funny spending so much money, especially since it wasn't mine, but my protests had fallen on deaf ears. At one point, we had entered a shop selling various weapons, and she had offered to purchase one for me, saying that I had to learn how to defend myself. I flatly refused the offer; I was a scientist, not a soldier. Even in high school, I had always gotten "unsatisfactory" on my P.E. reports.

I had even managed to meet an elf and a dwarf! Rose introduced them as Legolas and Gimli. They were very kind and welcoming, and I had to admit that the elf was ridiculously attractive, but he was too….pretty….for my tastes. I found myself comparing him to my masculine Romeo, and found the elf lacking. Still, I was surprised to learn that Rose had accompanied them on their quest as a member of the Fellowship, and had actually fought in all three significant battles of the War. It didn't fit with the image of her I had in my head.

The most interesting point of the day was when she had shown me her lab, and I found myself dramatically reassessing my opinion of her yet again. I had assumed she had leapt into the pampered life of a Noble Lady, but it seemed my benefactor was quite the scientist, as well as an adventurer. My opinion of her had increased exponentially when she had taken me to her makeshift lab and shown me her work. Her lab was ill equipped compared to the standards I was used to working with, and it was clear that she had never been properly educated in true scientific procedures, but it was clear she had a very scientifically inclined mind. After all, she hadn't ever gotten the chance to go to college. That she had achieved gunpowder of all things, not to mention designing a musket, with just a rudimentary knowledge of science was extremely impressive.

Now that we were home, we returned to her office, where we found Boromir working at his adjoining desk. Rose sat down and I leaned against her desk as she handed me the rough schematics for a crude printing press.

"This is good," I commented as I examined her latest designs. "This is really good, actually. Especially considering your lack of training. You have a mind for engineering. If you had gone to university, you could have become quite the engineer."

"You have experience in engineering," Boromir asked curiously, taking a break from his work.

I continued to flip through the pages as I answered. "I had to take a few classes in it when I was working on my undergraduate degree."

"'Undergraduate degree?'"

I looked up, realizing the words were in English. "Is there no translation for that in Common," I asked Rose in confusion.

She shrugged. "I guess not." She proceeded to explain the idea of universities to him as I inspected one of her designs. Spotting a flaw, I turned to lean over the table and grabbed a quill to correct it.

"What are you doing," Rose asked, a hint of indignation in her voice.

"There's a problem here." I finished writing and blew on the ink to dry it before bringing it up to show her. "See this? The metal you wanted to use for the type pieces isn't going to work. You'll need a lead-based alloy."

We debated and poured over the diagrams until the sun sank in the sky, and it became too dark to do anything more. Candles were extraordinarily ineffective lighting, and I pondered how to invent the lightbulb as I wandered off to bed.

I had just changed into a satin nightgown Rose had lent me and crawled into bed, when I heard a sharp tap. I listened for a moment, wondering if I had imagined it. But sure enough, I heard the distinct sound of a rock hitting glass, and walked to the French doors. I opened them, only to have a pebble nail me in the forehead.

"Son of a bitch!" I cursed, before I bent down and picked up the rock. I chucked it hard back the direction it had come from, and heard an answering curse as it hit home. Still holding my head, I leaned over ledge to see who had thrown it.

"You have an unusually strong arm for a woman," Romeo said, holding his nose. "And bizarrely good aim."

I couldn't help smiling at how ridiculous the situation was. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you, yet you were not at your perch."

"I was going to bed," I said, gesturing pointedly to my nightgown. He chuckled.

"I am sorry to have disturbed your rest," he said. He didn't look the least bit sorry. "Shall I leave?"

I let him squirm for a bit as I pretended to mull the idea over. "No, no. I'm awake. Come on up, Monkey boy."

"'Monkey boy'," he repeated with a shake of his head as he began to climb. "You come up with the most undignified names for me."

"Yet all of them apt," I said dryly. He swung himself over the edge, and I shook my head. "My P.E. teacher would love you. He could never even get me to climb his stupid rope." When Romeo looked at me in question, I waved my hand dismissively. "Nevermind."

"May I ask what is on your face? You wore them last night, but I thought it inappropriate to inquire," he said as I leaned against the railing and crossed my arms.

I stared at him blankly for a moment. "Oh! You mean my glasses!" I took them off and handed them to him. "I've been wearing them for so long I forget they're there. I have bad vision, and they help me see."

He inspected them, clearly never having seen anything like them before. I laughed softly when he put them on, and his eyes crossed. "These help you see," he repeated dubiously.

"Ah, the disbelief of someone with perfect vision," I said with a smile. "I'm severely nearsighted, so I can see objects near me fine, but about a foot away from my face, stuff gets blurry."

"So you cannot see me right now," he said. I gave a one shoulder shrug.

"I can see your basic outline, but no details," I said as I took back my glasses. "I don't think I'd be able to function without these."

"I have heard of people complaining of blurry vision, but none so severe as yours," he commented as I put my glasses back on.

"Well, Darwanism is probably the best explanation for that, since someone like me wouldn't survive long in this environment. It's probably bred out of the population a bit." He looked at me in question, and I realized he probably had no idea what I was talking about. "How can I explain survival of the fittest to you?" I thought for a moment, then latched on to an idea. "Ok, do you breed horses?" He nodded, and I kept going. "Why do you match certain horses together?"

"To breed a better foal," he answered, playing along.

"Exactly. You pick the strongest horses and breed them together so that those traits are inherited by the offspring, and you avoid mating horses that are weak or somehow unfit. The same idea applies here. People who are unfit in some way, such as sickliness or frailty, are not as likely to survive and breed as people who are stronger and healthier. So those traits of sickliness get bred out of the population to a certain extent."

"I see. So you suggest that poor vision is similar to sickliness in this respect," he said with a nod. "The idea has long been understood for horses, but we had not thought of it in regards to humans."

I shrugged again and sat down on the balcony floor. "Meh. It took us a while, too. So tell me about Rohan, Blond Boy."

He shook his head at the name and joined me on the ground. "Your persistence in naming me is both endearing and incredibly emasculating. What would you like to know?"

I don't know how long we sat out there, exchanging stories. I didn't want to give him too much information about the 21st century, so I traded narratives I remembered from my history classes for tales of growing up in Rohan. I recited Shakespeare's Saint Crispin's Day speech for him, as it had always been one of my absolute favorites, and I knew he would love it.

It had been a long day for me, though, and eventually I had to call it quits for the night. We stood, and he moved closer to me, tucking a wayward curl behind my ear. I wanted to shiver at the intimacy, but managed to restrain myself.

"May I have your name that I might call upon you tomorrow," he asked.

"Nope. You threw a rock at my head," I replied.

"You threw one at mine, as well," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You did it first, ergo, the blame lies on you."

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, but he was smiling. "Never before have I met a woman such as you. What must I do to convince you?"

I thought about it for a moment. "You're a smart man. I have every confidence you can figure something out." With that, I entered my bedroom and left him standing there, once again.