Summary: A twist on the girl-is-magically-sent-to-Middle-Earth plot: When Peter Jackson's Hobbit Trilogy threatens to change history, the universe has to intervene.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I actually love Jackson's retelling. This was just fun to write. I don't own the rights to any of these characters and am not making any money off of this.

"That house was, as Bilbo had long ago reported, 'a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep, or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all'. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear, and sadness." — J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Chapter 1: Anywhere But There

I was ready for Rivendell. It had been a long, trying couple of years, and I needed the rest.

I was lying in a quiet glade, on my back, staring at the trees and thinking how nice it was not to have to think about anything for a change, or answer nagging customer questions, or listen to stupid coworker gossip. I was a little cold though. It had been deep summer when I'd vanished from home, and the clothes I was wearing were hardly adequate for Middle Earth. Still, I didn't care. I didn't even care how I had gotten there. I just wanted to rest. I closed my eyes, breathed deep, and exhaled in a long, contented sigh.

The Elves found me there, and for a few hours the magic was shattered.

They asked a lot of questions I didn't have the answers to. No, I didn't know where I was…Rivendell? You must be joking. That's impossible. Rivendell isn't real…So sorry, I didn't mean to give offense. It's just that Rivendell is sort of a legend where I'm from…Where am I from? I don't know how to answer that really…No, I don't know how I came to be here. I was somewhere else, and then I was here. There was no middle bit.

Eventually Lord Elrond closeted me in with him and asked me directly my name (Priscilla. Yes, I know it's awful. People call me Scilla or lose their teeth) and what I knew about where I was. I answered him honestly. My earlier lethargy had receded enough for me to wonder if I was dreaming, and I figured if I was, telling him the truth wouldn't hurt, and if I wasn't…well, telling the truth was still probably the best option.

To his credit, he believed me. He asked a lot more questions, which I answered as best I could. There were tricky bits, as of course inter-world travel was one of the few things that was beyond even Lord Elrond's comprehension, but he seemed satisfied that I was no threat in and of myself, and whatever else was going on, I was at least being honest with him. Therefore, I was allowed to stay, and my weary body and now wearier mind were escorted to a quiet room at the back end of the Last Homely House, and there I passed several weeks completely ignoring the logistics of my situation.

Then the Lady Galadriel came, and it was another round of questioning. I think Elrond had still been wary of me up until this point, but as Galadriel could to some extent read minds, there was no doubt about the truth of my story now. She must have seen things in my humble brain that astonished her not because they were wondrous in and of themselves, but because they were so utterly foreign to her. They only supported my story, however.

When she had finished, she sat down across the table from me and pushed an elaborate goblet of wine in my direction. I sipped it gratefully.

"What do you make of it?" she asked me.

"I have no idea," I said. "Physics were always a little over my head. If I'm not dreaming, something very strange has happened. May I ask what's happening in the world?" As I had no idea what of the history of Middle Earth had happened prior to my arrival, I had avoided mentioning any specifics. I had, however, made certain that both Galadriel and Elrond understood that I knew them.

The world was relatively calm, they told me. There were stirrings in the East, in Mirkwood…

"The Necromancer?" I asked, looking up.

"Yes," said Galadriel. "He has given us pause for some time."

"Ah," I said. "I think I know when I am now. Or at least, whenabouts."

"Does that help you?" she asked gently.

"Not really," I said honestly. "Just gives me my bearings. I'm afraid I still can't tell you how, or why, I am here. This doesn't feel like a dream…"

Elrond smiled a little at me. "I assure you it is not. The question is now, what to do with you now that you are here? As we do not know how you came to be in Middle Earth, we do not know at present how to send you home. I assure you I will look into this further. In the meantime, I think it best you remain here in Rivendell, until some better course presents itself."

"I would like that very much," I told him, thinking of good wine and warm food and the beauty of all that was around me. As I have said, I had no desire to be anywhere else.

But that "better course" came all too quickly, and as I was rushed along it I learned I was indeed in Middle Earth for a purpose. Things had gone very, very wrong, and I was the only one who could make them right again.