PART ONE: ANACHRONISM
Chapter XIX: The Great Escape
The goblins, snickering and sneering, pushed us along the stone pathway. I'm not sure how long we walked for, going ever deeper into the caverns of the Misty Mountains. To me, it could have been hours. It could have been days. Though in reality, I suspect it was little more than twenty minutes.
I don't have fond memories of that walk. I remember the putrid smell. I remember being spat on several times. I remember the goblins' curses in their foul language. I remember walking behind Thorin, keeping a firm hold on the back of his coat so we didn't get separated.
My last trip to the Misty Mountains had involved Gandalf falling to his death. My gaze would skim over the faces of the Company as I tried and failed to reassure myself that we would all get through this in one peace.
In short, the walk was hell. I actually felt relief when the pathway led us under a narrow archway and then opened up to reveal the expanse of goblin town.
Goblin town was by no means beautiful like Erebor or Caras Galadhon, but in its own way, it inspired awe. The town had been built in a ravine: the ceiling so far above us that we couldn't see it and the bottom was so far below that darkness had swallowed it. The goblins' wooden houses had been built into the steep walls of the ravine, all connected by hundreds of rickety bridges. Flickering orange torches illuminated the town, and at the center, on a wide platform suspended over the abyss, roared a giant fire.
It was too this large, central platform that the goblins brought us. I remember being shoved onto the floor beside Dwalin, while our captors threw the Company's weapons into a pile at the feet of the goblin king.
To this day, the goblin king was one of the most hideous creatures I have ever seen. I know I have said that the goblins were ugly, but the rest of them are fashion models compared to their king. He was a huge, hulking being with a bulging stomach, countless warts, and squinty eyes. He sat on a throne of rocks and bones with a deformed crown of animal ribs on his fat head. At first, I thought he had a beard, but upon second glance, I realized it was just flab hanging down from his chin, swaying madly whenever he moved his head.
"Well, well, well," said the goblin king. "What do we have here?"
"Dwarves, your malevolence," said one of the short, thin goblins, speaking in the common tongue.
I glanced around. Bilbo and I were most certainly not dwarves. I cowered behind Dwalin, so perhaps they hadn't seen me yet, but Bilbo was obviously not a dwarf. But now that I looked, I couldn't find Bilbo among the Company.
My heart skipped a beat as images of Gandalf tumbling into Khazad-dûm flashed before my eyes. Had we lost Bilbo on the stone pathway? Had the goblins knocked him off? Why hadn't anyone noticed? My hand reached for the edge of Dwalin's coat, but there wasn't time to worry about Bilbo.
"Dwarves!" The goblin king laughed—a gravelly, wretched sound. "Dwarves! Dwarves!" He peered at the Company through piggish eyes. "And what might dwarves be doing, crossing my mountain?"
The Company didn't respond.
"Very well," said the king. He turned to his fellow goblins and let out a deep cackle. "If they will not talk, we will make them squawk. Bring out the Bone Breaker!"
A roar rose up amongst the crowd of goblins watching, and it echoed throughout the ravine. Apparently, they liked the Bone Breaker quite a bit.
"We will start with the woman," said the goblin king as he thrust a thick finger in Dwalin's direction.
"Dwalin's not a woman," I said, trying to keep my voice low. "Easy mistake to make though."
Dwalin glanced at me with pity. "He refers to you."
The goblins snickered and prodded me with their sharp fingernails.
"Wait!" I cried. My grip on Dwalin's shirt tightened in a vain attempt to stop the goblins from taking me away. "I don't know anything! I really don't! I'm just passing through!"
The goblin king snickered and leaned back in his skeletal throne. "I have never seen a female dwarf before. I did not expect them to be as ugly as you."
The goblin king with his flab and warts had just called me "ugly". My jaw dropped and I could only stare up at the king with mute horror. What did I do to deserve that kind of insult?
Dori patted me on the shoulder. "If you had a beard, you would be quite acceptable."
The goblins jeered and prodded me. Dwalin and Dori both grabbed hold of me, trying to stop the goblins from dragging me away. One of the goblins struck Dori in the nose, another elbowed Dwalin in the stomach, and the dwarves relinquished their holds on me.
As I stumbled forward to the front of the group, I felt the eyes of goblin town watching. I wrapped the cloak Ori had given me closer around, trying to hide the fact that wore only boxers and a t-shirt.
The king leered at me, showing all of his crooked, yellow teeth.
"I don't like this Bone Breaker," I said. "Could we just, you know, sit down and talk. Maybe have some coffee and cookies. I feel like this whole issue can be better resolved with talking rather than…torture…"
"Are you mocking me?" asked the goblin king. As he leaned forward, his throne groaned under his great weight. I could even hear the cracking of the old bones.
"Me?" I squeaked. "Mocking you? No! Uh, how could I mock such a splendid creature of such magnificence? I mean, just look at those warts. Those are some amazing warts. I have never seen such beautiful warts in all my life. And that flabby piece of skin—incredible. How did you get that? You should tell me and I'll try and get one myself."
The king smiled and scratch his flab. "I am naturally this magnificent."
"Really?" I cried eagerly. "So lucky! My genetics only made me short, but you—you get to be…to be a great handsome goblin king. Aren't I right?" I glanced around at the dwarves for support. They all stared at me, the word "no" plastered on their faces. I turned back to the goblin king and offered up my best smile. "They agree."
"Oh stop, stop," said the goblin king. "You flatter too much."
"I'm only speaking the truth."
The goblin king grinned at me, and I had to actively try not to cringe at how hideous he was.
"Since you have such refined taste," said the king. "I will show you a little treat." He turned to a small goblin with bug-eyes that might have been his secretary. "Bring out the jester."
Several of the goblins scurried away. I could feel the dwarves shifting uncomfortably behind me. Dori tried to grab my arm and pulled me back among their ranks, but the goblins hissed and prodded him so that he had to give up.
I glanced back at Thorin. "Jester?"
He didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the goblin king.
The goblins returned, carrying a human-sized iron cage on their shoulders. They placed it down on the ground beside the king's throne, and I got a good view of what was inside. A thin young man sat behind the bars. He had messy light brown hair and an awkward too-tall-for-his-weight frame. His red t-shirt had been smeared with grime, and he wore a deep scowl as he stared through the rusted bars at the goblins. Then, his brown eyes came to rest on me. The scowl disappeared, replaced by shock.
I could barely find the words. "Nick? Is that you?"
At first, he didn't dare to believe it either. Then a huge grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward, grabbing hold of the cage bars. "Hey, Ana." He voice was barely a croak. "I see you landed in this crazy place too."
My throat felt thick, and for a second, I was afraid that I would cry. After months of jumping of buildings, searching for my friends in every place in Middle Earth and always being disappointed, I had found Nick. In goblin town. He looked battered and exhausted, but at least he was alive.
"You know the jester?" asked Glóin.
"He's my friend, Nick. I, um, accidentally brought him here." I glanced at Thorin, and he nodded once. Apparently he remembered my ridiculously long explanation when I'd met him in the Blue Mountains. The funny thing is that Thorin had refused to help me find my friends, but here he was when I finally found Nick.
"You brought me here?" Nick frowned as he tried to make sense of my words.
"Yeah…" My gaze shifted over the massive goblin king who had watched this entire exchange with interest. "There are probably better times to explain than right now."
"You know my jester?" The goblin king said as soon as Nick and I fell into silence.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. One wrong answer to the goblin king could end with my being tortured on the Bone Breaker. But, well, it wasn't like I could leave Nick in goblin town.
"He's my friend," I said. "I, um, take it his jesting skills are to your liking."
"Very much." The king's mouth stretched into a menacing smile, and then he turned to Nick and said, "Make us laugh, Jester."
Nick clutched the bars of the cage. He glanced at me, almost embarrassed, and then asked, "What do you call a man with two wooden legs and no left eye who gets into a fight with a cat?"
The goblin king had already started laughing. "I do not know! Tell me!"
"Claude."
The goblin king stared at Nick for a good, long second. Then he doubled over and let out a booming laugh. Immediately, the hundred other goblins present started cackling, as if this was the funniest thing they had ever heard. The goblin king pounded his fist on the throne, laughing so much that his flab jiggled violently.
I stared at Nick's solemn face. Then, I glanced back at the dwarves. They weren't laughing either.
The goblin king seemed to notice this, because he suddenly stopped guffawing. He glared at us and said, in a low tone, "Why aren't you laughing?"
Pause.
With exception of Thorin, who was too proud for such nonsense, we all practically fell over ourselves with fake laughter.
"Oh my God!" I cried. "That's hilarious!"
"Please, stop!" Fíli clutched his sides. "I cannot take it anymore."
"I wish we had such a jester at home," added Nori.
Unable to take it anymore, Ori leaned forward and whispered to me, "Your friend is not very funny."
This probably would have been okay if Ori hadn't timed his comment very, very poorly. For some reason, a pause had been taken in all the laughter and compliments, and Ori's voice came out louder than he'd intended.
The goblin king stopped laughing. He turned to Ori with a stony face. "You do not think my jester is amusing?"
Nick glanced from Ori to the goblin king and back. "Uh, um, what did the plate say to the other plate? Lunch is on me."
The Company and I laughed weakly.
The goblin king didn't even listen to Nick. He couldn't tear his eyes away from poor Ori. Then, slowly, the goblin king turned to one of his minions and said, "Bring up the Bone Breaker."
Immediately, ten goblins scampered away from the platform, manic grins on their squat, disfigured faces.
"What?" I cried. "Why? Is that really necessary?"
The dwarves pulled Ori back and closed ranks around him. I had no idea how they planned to rescue Ori from the clutches of the Bone Breaker—not when we were surrounded by sneering, blood-thirsty goblins and their insane king with a horrible sense of humor.
I inched closer to Nick's cage, and when I was close enough, I asked as quietly as I could, "Are you okay?"
"I'll survive," whispered Nick. "They've kept me alive so I could tell jokes to the king."
"How long have you been here?"
"I don't know. No more than a couple days, I think." Nick hesitated and then asked, softly, "What about you?"
"I ended up with a dragon. I went home before he could eat me." I added the last part when I saw the look of fright on Nicks face.
"You've been home?" asked Nick, faint hope in his voice.
I nodded.
"How's everything?"
"Good. Everything's good." I swallowed. How do you tell your best friend that he's been gone for six months? How do you tell him he's on the missing persons list? How do you tell him that it's all your fault? That you Skipped him to another world and left him there by accident.
I bit my lip and glanced over at the dwarves. They huddled around Ori, keeping a firm grip on him and glowering at the goblins. I searched for Thorin. When our gazes met, he glanced at Nick and inclined his head. I nodded and gave him a relieved little smile.
"So how do you know these guys?" asked Nick, leaning against the bars of the crude cage. His head bent under the low ceiling, and I could see scratched on his hands. Still, Nick kept his voice light.
"It's kind of a long story," I said.
"How long?"
"I first met Thor—one of them when I was six." I had to be careful about Thorin's name in this place.
Nick blinked. "That long?"
"Yep."
To my great misfortune, the goblin king chose that moment to turn away from the dwarves and see me talking to Nick. His little, pale eyes bugged out of his head and he lumbered down from his throne. "Do not talk to my jester—" He said something in his foul tongue that I didn't understand but figured it wasn't nice.
"Sorry, your malevolence," I said, throwing my hands up and backing away from Nick's cage. "I should never have gone against the wishes of your great, uh, wartiness."
"You cannot talk to what is mine," snarled the goblin king. Apparently, Ori's comment had royally pissed him off, and he wouldn't even listen to my flattering anymore. That could only mean bad things for me.
"I won't," I said, shaking my head. "I won't talk to my friend anymore. I—"
My pleas came to a halt as the sound of jeers and shouts rose up among the goblins.
The Bone Breaker had arrived.
Let me tell you, the Bone Breaker is a mechanism of pure evil. It had spikes and straps and boards and what looked like leather holds for your feet and head. I'm not entirely sure how it worked, but I'm pretty sure it went something along the lines of you were tied to a board and stretched out until all your bones broke. Hence the name.
"I still think coffee and cookies are the best solution," I said weakly.
"Put the woman in the Bone Breaker!" The king's words were met with wild applause from the other goblins.
"What?" I glanced over at Ori. Relief flickered on his face, but then his eyes snapped to mine and filled with panic.
"Not her!" cried Nick.
Before I even had time to try to escape, four goblins grabbed my arms and legs. I shrieked and writhed, but their skinny hands held tight. I couldn't even form a coherent thought as I was dragged, kicking and screaming, to the Bone Breaker.
I didn't want to die that way. I didn't want to go through pain like that. I would rather die falling off the roof of my apartment building than strapped into a torture device. And while you and I both know I don't die in the Bone Breaker, at the time, I really couldn't see a way out of the situation. The only thing going through my mind was I would rather die any way than in pain like that.
I was saved from such a fate by one majestic word.
"Wait."
Inches from the Bone Breaker, the goblins holding me stopped. I twisted about and managed to see that Thorin had stepped forward. The dwarves shifted about him, eyeing the goblins nervously. However, Thorin remained resolute. His blue eyes were icy as he glowered at the goblin king.
A wide grin spread across the king's grotesque face. "So you finally reveal yourself, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, and King Under the Mountain. But wait!" The goblin king's smile turned into a leer. "I forgot. You do not have a mountain. So that would make you…no one, really."
Despite the shadow of the Bone Breaker looming over me, I cried, "That was uncalled for!"
Nick held a finger to his lips, trying to get me to be quiet.
Neither Thorin nor the goblin king had heard me, however. Their attention was fixed entirely on each other. I squirmed, trying to break the goblins' hold on my arms and legs. I caught two of the goblins off guard, and they dropped my legs on the hard, wooden floor. I winced in pain, while the other two hissed. They kept firm grips on my forearms, their nails digging into the skin.
The goblin king sat back on his throne and smiled nastily. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head, Thorin Oakenshield."
Thorin frowned.
"Do you not know?" asked the goblin king. "You are being hunted. A pale orc atop a white warg is willing to pay for your head. Just your head. Nothing else attached."
"A pale orc?" I asked, always the ignorant one.
"Azog the Defiler died at the gates of Azanulbizar," said Thorin darkly.
"Oh?" The goblin king grinned, showing all his teeth. "You think his defiling days are over, do you?"
"Azog?" I asked. "Can someone fill me in on this?"
"Me too," said Nick from his cage.
Balin sighed and shot me a disapproving look "Azog the Defiler was a commander of the orc armies in the War of Dwarves and Orcs."
A muttering grew amongst the goblins, and some of them shot Balin filthy glares. Clearly, the war was not a happy memory for them.
"He was also the orc who beheaded Thorin's grandfather, King Thrór," continued Balin as if he hadn't noticed the murmurings of the goblins. "During the Battle of Azanulbizar, Azog's son Bolg was killed by Dáin II, a descendant of Durin and heir to the Iron Hills. In revenge, Azog swore to end the line of Durin, starting with Thorin."
"But no one ends our uncle," said Kíli proudly.
Balin's eyes widened at the idiocy of Kíli, and in an attempt to cover up this mistake, Balin quickly carried on with the story, "However, Thorin was not to be so easily defeated. Thorin fought Azog with only a sword and an oaken branch."
"That is where the name 'Oakenshield' comes from," added Kíli.
Fíli had the common sense to stop his younger brother from saying more with a good punch to the arm.
"Thorin severed Azog's left arm, and Azog slunk back into the mountain. He has not been seen or heard from since. We presumed him dead. It would be ill news indeed to hear otherwise."
The goblin king listened to Balin's story with narrowed eyes. I expected him to interrupt, but he wasn't half as stupid as I hoped he'd be. No doubt he'd heard everything we said and planned how to make use of that information.
"So it's a revenge thing." I glanced at the king and then asked, "Why is he called Azog the Defiler? Did he mess with some dwarf's beard and join the ranks of the Beard Defilers?"
"What?" Balin gave me a funny look. "No."
"Then how did he get that name?"
"If there is a story, then it has not reached the ears of the dwarrows," said Balin. "He has been called that since the days of the war."
"He probably accidentally cut off some dwarf's beard in battle," I mused, "and has been known as Azog the Beard Defiler. Eventually it just got shortened to Defiler."
"Perhaps he was called 'the Defiler' because he beheaded King Thrór," said Dwalin in a low voice.
The goblin king's gigantic brow furrowed as he heard us veer off topic.
I glanced at Thorin, who was very deliberately ignoring our conversation about Azog. "I like my story better."
"You can't just invent history because you like your version better," said Nick. "That's why—"
"Shut your mouth!" roared the goblin king. "You may only talk when I command you to talk."
To my horror, one of the goblin minions lashed Nick with a whip. A weak yelp came from me as I watched Nick cringe in pain, shrinking to the side of the cage furthest away from the goblins.
The king glowered at Nick before addressing his minions. "Strap the woman to the Bone Breaker. I want to hear her squeal!"
I squealed. "I don't like the Bone Breaker!"
The goblins lifted me onto the Bone Breaker. They pinned down my arms and legs as the leather ties were bound.
"Not the Bone Breaker! Don't! Thorin, help!"
And he did. Well, to be fair, Thorin didn't actually save me—his elven sword did. Just as the minions prepared the Bone Breaker, one unwitting goblin decided to inspect Thorin's sword, Orcrist, as a piece of plunder. But the moment he started to unsheathe the elven blade, he screamed and dropped the glowing weapon.
"The Goblin Cleaver!" His shrill cry cut through the chaos.
The goblins who had begun turning the wheel of the Bone Breaker suddenly leapt away as though they had been burned. They hissed and bared their teeth, while I struggled against the leather bindings of the Bone Breaker.
The goblin king released a howl. I looked up to see the king trying to climb the back of his throne in a desperate attempt to get away from the glowing blue sword.
"I know that sword!" he shrieked. "I know that sword! Biter, the Goblin Cleaver!" He lifted his small eyes to look upon the Company. "It is a plot to wipe out the last of the goblins! Lash them! Whip them! Kill them all!"
The goblins jumped on the Company, weapons drawn and fingernails clawing at anything they could reach. For a second, it looked like the end of the dwarves—and me. But then, a flash of bright light filled the ravine. The goblins fell to their knees, covering their eyes and cowering in agony. When the light faded, there, amongst the rubble and rabble of goblin town, stood Gandalf the Gray.
Gandalf had finally caught up from Rivendell, and damn did he have good timing.
The stunned silence was broken by the goblin king, who screamed and pointed at Glamdring, the glowing blade in Gandalf's right hand.
"It is Beater, the Foe Hammer! Kill them! Kill them all!"
"Take up arms," roared Gandalf. "Fight!"
Thorin jumped to his feet, pushing a goblin aside, and picked up Orcrist. He twisted, slicing open a goblin's throat with the brilliant blade.
The other dwarves soon followed Thorin's lead. Óin picked up his hunting staff and swung it around his body. Glóin wielded his battle axe like an expert, splitting goblins down the middle left and right. Fíli had his dual swords drawn. He moved so quickly I couldn't see the blades, only a flash and then a goblin lay dead on the floor. Kíli used his sword (for once the bow remain strapped to his back) to cut through the crowd. Bifur ran goblins through with his boar spear, Bofur crushed heads with his mattock, and Bombur whacked the goblins with his fists. Nori swung about his mace, while Dori sliced and diced with his sword, and Ori, precious little Ori, fired his slingshot in every direction he could. Dwalin wielded his dual battle axes with his brother, Balin, beheaded orcs right beside him.
Okay, okay, I admit that the dwarves fighting wasn't as, um, successful as I make it sound. The goblin king almost ate Nori until Dwalin punched the king with brass knuckles. Ori and his slingshot needed saving several times (thank you, Thorin, Fíli, Balin, Kíli, Thorin, Nori, Dori, and Thorin for that). At one point, a goblin arrow almost embedded itself in Fíli's head, but Kíli pulled his brother out of the way at the last second. The battle was a mess of teeth and blades and stumbling about with a lot of skill and a lot of luck thrown in there for good measure. While we didn't make it out unscathed (Nori had a head wound, Dwalin lost a lot of blood, and Glóin's right thigh was slashed open), we were fortunate enough that everyone stayed alive.
Throughout the whole fight, I remained strapped to the Bone Breaker, keeping as still as the grave and praying to whoever would listen that none of the goblins remembered my existence. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. Three goblins decided it would be fun to torture me in the middle of the battle. They started to turn the wheel that activated the Bone Breaker.
I screamed. "No! You don't need to do that! I'm not doing anything! I'm just lying here quietly! I'm harmless! No!"
The goblins snickered and continued their work.
"Ana, no!" shouted Nick, rattling the bars of his cage.
My screams doubled as the Bone Breaker started to take effect. It wasn't much, a light pulling on my limbs, but I could already picture the pain growing and growing until my bones started to snap… It wasn't a fun thought.
And then—whack—one goblin head went flying, two goblin heads went flying, three goblin heads went flying.
"You are more trouble than you are worth."
Thorin sliced open the leather straps binding me to the Bone Breaker, and I sat up, rubbing my strained, aching wrists. I looked up at him and cried, "Oh my God—I'm so sorry, Thorin!"
He frowned in confusion. "For being a nuisance?"
"I never realized just how majestic you are before now!" I quickly wiped any trace of tears from the corners of my eyes with the sleeve of my t-shirt. "I mean, I knew you were majestic—but never this majestic."
Thorin snorted. "Go save your unamusing friend."
I hopped off the Bone Breaker, stumbling a little on the landing, and sprinted across the platform to the iron cage. When a goblin leapt at me, baring a bloodied knife, Thorin drove Orcrist into the goblin's chest. I ducked under the goblin's arm and covered the rest of the distance to the cage.
"Hey, Nick," I said, my voice a little shaky.
"You have some handy friends," said Nick. He grinned at me and crossed his hands over his chest so I wouldn't see that they were shaking.
"Where's the key?" I asked.
"Where do you think? The king has it."
I stared at the goblin king who was wielded a spiked mace as he battled Gandalf. I couldn't see a key anywhere around him.
"Where?"
Nick shuddered. "Around his neck."
"Underneath the flab beard?"
Nick nodded gravely.
"Nope," I said, turning around. "That's it. You're staying in goblin town until you grow old. I'm not getting that key."
"Ana."
"I know, I know. But you owe me one!" I sprinted across the battlefield, shrieking whenever a goblin got too close (which was often).
I almost knocked over Dwalin, and he spun around, ready to cleave my head off with his axes.
"It's me!" I cried, covering my face with my hands.
"What are you doing?" grunted Dwalin before he blocked a goblin's scimitar.
"I need to get the key off the goblin king's neck."
"Why?" Dwalin buried his axe in the goblin's skull.
I ignored the churning feeling in my stomach and said, "To free Nick."
As he removed the axe from the goblin's head, Dwalin glanced over at the cage. "You cannot get him out without the key?"
I shook my head.
Dwalin made his way across the platform to the cage, cutting down goblins as he went. When he reached the cage, he grasped two metal bars next to each other and let out a deep roar. I watched with open-mouthed awe as Dwalin, his arms bulging with muscle, bent the rusted, metal bars into a hole big enough for Nick to crawl out of. Dwalin turned to me and said, "Never underestimate a dwarf." Then he marched back into the fighting.
"Damn," said Nick. "That is some dwarf."
"So badass."
"The beard completes it."
"Absolutely."
Our appreciation of Dwalin was cut short by Thorin's shout of "Run! Across the bridge!"
The goblin king, it seemed, had been knocked off the platform, and most of the nearby goblins had died or fled. Nick and I stepped over the corpses of at least twenty goblins as we followed the Company off the platforms.
Gandalf led the way across a rickety wooden bridge towards the exit (wherever that was, I just trusted Gandalf to know where he was going). Goblins assailed us from all directions, hungry grins on their faces and their weapons frighteningly sharp. Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin did most of the work keeping the goblins away, and Kili's arrows saved more than one dwarf.
We reached a second bridge that spanned the ravine, and to my surprise, there were ropes handrails on either side. (Congratulations, goblins, on being the only race to employ the use of handrails in Middle Earth. I hate almost everything about goblins, but at least they have that going for them.)
It should be noted that I had been getting into shape with all this running about Middle Earth, but I was still slow and sluggish compared to the Company. Nick, on the other hand, had been on the cross-country team since middle school. The damn guy ran faster than the dwarves. So, there I was huffing and puffing at the back of the group, and Nick jogged ahead of me like it's the easiest thing in the world.
"I thought it was everyone from your world who was slow," said Kíli during a brief lull in the goblins' attacks. "Now I realize it is only you."
"Nick!" I cried. "That's cheating!"
"You'd better run faster," said Nick.
I glanced over my shoulder, thinking that he was joking. He wasn't. Three goblins with their knives and swords drawn, were only a few yards behind me.
I tripped.
My right foot hit an uneven wooden plank, and I pitched forward into a gap between the bridge and a platform. Down, down, down, I went. By pure frigging luck, I hit another wooden bridge placed right underneath. My arms and legs throbbing from where they'd smacked the wood, I staggered to my feet.
"Well," I muttered as I checked my limbs to make sure they all worked, "that was convenient."
Then, I saw a goblin on the other side of the bridge. I managed a small wave before sprinted in the opposite direction.
"We lost Ana!" shouted Fíli from somewhere above me.
"She will find her way back," Thorin said.
"Thorin!" I cupped my hands on either side of my mouth and screamed upwards. "Save me!"
"And she has returned," said Thorin.
With shocking ease, he jumped through a gap in his boardwalk and landed on the ground in front of me. I yelped and leapt backwards, but when I recognized the dwarf, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Then he swung his sword.
I screamed.
He drove the blade through the throat of a goblin behind me.
I knew he was going to do that. Totally.
"If I have to save your life one more time," said Thorin, "I will hand you over to be the goblin king's new jester."
I smiled weakly. "Thank you for saving my life. Again."
"Where is your Sword Breaker?"
"On my bedside table…" I quailed under Thorin's glare and quickly said, "I'll never go to bed without it again. I promise!"
Of course, there wasn't a lot of time for us to bicker over how many times Thorin had to save my life, and we started running again. Thorin led the way across the bridges, killing any goblins as we encountered. Eventually, our boardwalk turned into stairs and rose upwards until met with the rest of the Company. By some miracle, we managed to make it to the stone bridge leading out of goblintown. Gandalf started to cross the bridge—but he didn't make it more than halfway. The goblin king appeared on the other side of the bridge, his flab swinging wildly.
"You cannot escape," said the goblin king. It took him five steps to reach the center of the bridge. "What will you do now, Gandalf?"
"Kick him in the nuts," I said.
Nick whispered, "I don't think goblins have nuts."
"We do have nuts," said the goblin king indignantly. "I have a splendid pair of nuts."
"I do not wish to hear this," said Dori.
Gandalf poked the goblin king in the eye with his staff and then sliced the king's stomach open with one smooth swing Glamdring.
"Well, that works." I, for one, wasn't going to be picky.
The goblin king's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Slowly, his squat legs gave out beneath him, and he toppled off the bridge into the darkness below. The other goblins watched in horror as their leader disappeared into the abyss. They shrieked and squawked, for a moment, too stunned to move. Then, they turned their pale eyes on the Company.
"Run!" shouted Gandalf.
We sprinted across the bridge, the dwarves and Gandalf killing goblins as they went. We reached a dark stone tunnel, and Gandalf's staff provided light as we raced away from goblin town. I don't know how long we ran through the tunnel, nor did I know where we were headed. I only followed Gandalf's lead until we reached sunlight.
I remember that feeling. The feeling of stepping out from the eternal darkness of the mountain into the bright sunlight. I laughed and spread my arms out as we sprinted down the mountainside. I let the breeze run through my messy, blonde hair and felt a wave of relief wash over me. We had escaped goblin town. We had escaped goblin town, and Nick was with me, physically unharmed. It was all right. Everything was going to be all right.
The Company came to a stop between two tall oak trees. Gasping and panting for breath, we looked around at one another and smiled.
"Freedom," cried Nick. He let out a small, shaky laugh and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug. "I thought I'd never get out of there."
I figured then was not a good time to tell him that he smelled like goblin.
Nick let go and then stepped back to get a good look at me. "The last time I saw you was at your birthday party."
I gulped.
"Ana," said Nick slowly. I could see his hands tremble as he took a step back. "What's up?"
"So, um." Each word was painful to get out. "Back home, since you disappeared, it's been, um, six months."
"Six…six months…"
"I'm sorry," I said because I didn't know what else to say.
At first, he didn't believe it. I could see it in his eyes. But then, as he realized I was serious, the humor faded only to be placed by horror. There was a flash of anger—probably at me—but it disappeared as soon as it came. In the end, Nick stared at me with such a haunted expression that I almost cried. I didn't know what he'd been through those few days in goblin town. I don't know what he saw, but it was nothing he would ever forget.
Nick managed to push aside his anger, his frustration, his misery, and actually smiled at me. "That's crazy." He glanced around at the grassy slopes and then at the thirteen dwarves and Gandalf. "But, uh, where are we exactly? How did we even get here?"
"Yeah," I said slowly, knowing that the dwarves all listened curiously. "This is a place called Middle Earth. I, uh, Skip to different worlds, times, and places…"
Nick looked at me. I could see him sorting through options in his head. Thankfully, Nick was a patient person, and he said, calmly, "This is going to take a long time isn't it? How about we save that story for later. Tell me what's new in Ohio."
I said the first thing that came to my head: "I got a date."
"Really?" Nick managed to sound genuinely excited. "Good for you. Who with?"
"A cute neighbor named Jack."
"Cute is best," said Nick. "Do you know how Joanna is?"
"I haven't seen her," I said, making a face at the thought of Nick's dreadful girlfriend. "I had to drop out of school—what with all the Skipping and everything."
"Right." Nick paused. I could see him silently adjusting to this information. I could see his eyes glaze as the world slipped away from his grasp. In the end, he only asked, "Then, did you end up fired from another job?"
"Yep."
"Sucks."
"Yep."
We smiled at each, pushing our misfortunes to the backs of our minds. For the moment, it was good enough that we were together and that I would bring him back to Ohio as soon as I could.
I wrapped my arms around Nick's waist, pulling him into a tight hug. "I missed you so much that I'll hug you again even though you smell terrible!"
And that's how I got Nick back.
But, you know, that's not even close to the end of my story. Hate to tell you this, but we're going to be here for a long time… Don't leave. I know you're thinking of leaving. But don't. I promise you—it gets better. Sit down and have another ale or whatever and I'll get to the good parts soon. I promise.