Anna's companions (Ryce, Lowan, Benedictus, and Sabert, aka. Sala) are Saxons from pre. 1066 AD. I thought that if there were all these modern characters from earth that get to go to middle earth and have adventures, it would only be fair if a few earthlings from other times got to go and have adventures in middle earth too!

And to this narrative I am adding yet another voice. No, not Legolas Bloom, no. No, I am adding the narrator, an anonymous voice which merely states the facts as they are, and then allows you to return to the confused world of our most belov?d characters. I find that the narrator likes to write in bold, but as I, unlike the narrator, am completely incompetant, the narrator will have to settle for being within a series of dots, like this:

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narrator speaks
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And lastly to overcome the problem of Westron. . . if it is in { } s, that means it is in Westron, so Anna cannot understand it.

Chapter the 7th: Perfect Perfectly Angry Beings

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The Mirkwood elves are rather ticked at having their party crashed by Anna, especially since it was their first feast of the season, and was therefore sort-of special. Though their prisoners might just have be disoriented, starving, pathetic humans, who were where they were due to a series of perfectly conceivable mishaps, the more likely, the far more likely, reason is that they are indeed up to absolutely no good.
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I climbed out of bed. That had been one weird dream. I walked to the kitchen. Wow, there was all this food! Heaps and heaps of it! My mom must have gone shopping and bought the entire store!
Not wait, that was just a dream too. I was back in bed again. But it was a bit chilly. I guess I kicked off all the blankets. I squeaked and reached for my blankets on the floor. My knuckles rapped into something very solid and hard. I squeaked again, now wide awake. Stone floor? I tried to push myself up with my hands, but it felt like I was trying to push the floor away, which is of course impossible. The light around seemed as veiling as the dark shadows in the forrest, and I blinked, blinded and lost in a undimensional flat.

A hand lifted me up a bit by the back of my coat, so I was sitting on my knees. I could make out shapes and differences in the light. I could hear a clear voice speaking, but I did not even recognize the sounds. It droned on and on as my vision began to clear, "{-the first feast of the the season, and you come and ruin it-}" I began to distinguish there was a pattern on the floor. "{- if you were two feet shorter, I'd throw you in prison until you had rot.}" I could make out forms, but what they were I couldn't tell. "{-maybe that would teach you! Or -}" I shook my head hard trying to make something clearer of the shapes and sound. "{exactly. And another-}" My vision finally cleared a little more, but I didn't look in the direction of the voice. The voices frightened me in the way the laughter in the forrest had. I didn't want to see the source.

My eyes slowly focused on something over my shoulder. I saw a boy lying on floor. He looked ghastly, all scratched up, with a bruise on his face, and his clothing dirty and torn. It took me a moment to realize that it was Lowan. I opened my mouth in horror. I thought, I truly really thought, that Lowan was dead. I remembered his crying to his big brother that night in the forrest, and how I couldn't help. And how I had tried to get to the light. I was so frightened. I wanted to save them. I had tried.

"{-pay attention! Now, when I say-}"

I turned my head to face the source of the voice. There was a figure seated, the one speaking. About him where more figures, all looking at me. Despite having the same features as a human, there was not possible way I would ever call what was before me human. Not human, Not real. It couldn't be real. It wasn't real. Nothing like them was real. Clearly not real. A hallucination. I felt something rise up from my feet. I tried to fight it, tried to think something rational, but so many days had taken their toll. There was absolutely no part in my brain that could say anything rational. There was no voice of reason.

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Having realized that Anna had understood nothing that Thranduil was saying, probably because she proceeds to have a complete nervous breakdown at his feet, the elves decide to toss Anna and the Saxons, who are still snoozing under the anti-party-basher spell (see The Hobbit), in jail, until they are a little more sensible. Actually they were going to toss them in jail for a bit, regardless. They, unlike the Saxons, do not mistake Anna for a boy, and so very decently toss her in a cell all by herself.
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I blinked in the dark, unsure if I had just woken up or, and if it had all been a dream. Has I . . . had there been these . . was Lowan . . . dead? Was Lowan real? I sat there is the dark empty too afraid to move. Too afraid to breath.
Finally I turned over, and reached out a hand. There was a small amount of light coming in a line above. Crawling a little closer I banged into a wooden wall. I shuddered. I slowly walked on my knees, tracing the dimentions around, dragging my hand along the wall which changed from wood to cold stone.