~ Prologue ~

In the aftermath, it would be too late to analyze why I did what I did the day I decided to return to Middle Earth. Boredom was part of the reason, certainly. There had been nothing good on tv for days. Being between jobs, I had no money for books, and even if I had, all my favourite authors were taking too long writing anyway.

Looking back, maybe I should have reflected on the reading situation in Middle Earth a bit more. Its inhabitants wrote stuff on expensive parchment, using decorative symbols I had no idea how to read. Their taste in poetry and music also tended to run to the archaic as far as I was concerned -- I doubted they had heard of reggae or latin music, or anything else I could swing my hips and have a good time to. In short, the entertainment choices were really limited, and even I would not have been content staring at the elf all day, beautiful though he may be.

I should have remembered all that, but I didn't. My thoughts were consumed by the mundane problems of everyday life and the weather had pulled my mood down to an all-time low.

It was an exceptionally gloomy, dreary afternoon, and it wasn't even raining. It was also damn cold. I considered grabbing the broom and going into the garden for some martial arts broom-waving exercise, or 'neighbour entertainment' as my best friend used to call it. I decided against it.

Well, I wasn't in the mood to amuse the neighbours -- why should they have a good time when I didn't? I would have probably picked up a book anyway, and read it for the fifty-first time, failing to be entertained at any of the plot turns because I knew all of them by heart, but...

What?

Well, the cross-dimensional portal opened again, right in front of my nose. For some reason it was all pink and swirly this time, hovering in the middle of my bedroom like some cheesy special effect.

'Anna', I said to myself, 'this is a really bad time'.

The mirror flashed rosily at me from the other side of the room, and I nodded at my reflection for emphasis. 'You've just taken a shower, you're running around in orange trainers and a washed-out fitness outfit just because it's comfortable, and your hair is curling like mad and sticking out in all directions, as is its wont... You don't want to let the elf see you like that. Actually, you don't want anybody to see you like that.'

I was right. On the other hand, I wanted to see Legolas again, even if only to see if he was still doing the dirty with that red-haired hussy. It was even more likely that he had built himself a harem in the meantime. Mary Sues were not exactly a rarity in Middle Earth. What would the count be now -- the Fellowship of twenty? At least.

Also, the portal wasn't my making. Being a writer I would have liked that kind of power, but swirly pink dimensional rifts weren't my style. Gods did that kind of stuff -- if the Valar or others, I was not sure. Anyway, that shade of pink was just their thing.

So, would I go, or wouldn't I? The broom seemed to beckon to me from its dusty corner of the room. The swirling was starting to make me nauseous. The tv programme wasn't likely to improve anytime soon either. Despite my inappropriate clothing, there really was only one choice: I grabbed the broom and went.