PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter XXXVI: The Estranged Step-Brother

Little more than a day after Théoden's awakening, he held a council meeting in the Golden Hall. He sat on his throne, his face taut with worry and frustration. Gandalf sat at Théoden's right hand—the place Gríma had been before the king was freed from Saruman's influence and Gríma had fled Edoras. Now should've been a time for rejoicing, the king had returned after all, but no one was smiling.

Yesterday, Éomer had been released from prison. Théoden had apologized repeatedly for his failures, and Éomer had tried his best to be forgiving of his uncle's weakness. Then, that afternoon, Théodred had been buried in the tombs of kings. I remember standing amongst the riders, listening to Éowyn sing for her cousin and watching Éomer struggle not to cry—

Oh right. I'm still talking about Rohan. Okay, okay, okay, you caught me. I lied. I can't exactly sum up Rohan in five scenes. But I'm pretty damn close. We're going to leave Rohan soon, I promise.

So, we were sitting around the Golden Hall in a council meeting. Gandalf sat at Théoden's right hand and Éomer sat at Théoden's left. A few of the more experienced riders, including Éothain, sat near Gandalf, and then Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and I sat near Éomer. Gandalf and Théoden had been against including me in the meeting, but Éomer said it would be beneficial—because I knew the future. Somewhat. I knew stuff about the talking trees defeating the little wizard.

"Saruman," said Théoden, shaking his head. "I should have known."

"Do not blame yourself," said Gandalf. "Saruman deceived us all."

"But for me to sit back and watch the destruction of Rohan and do nothing." Théoden looked disgusted with himself.

"Do not give up Rohan so easily," said Aragorn. "She is wounded, but she is not lost."

"You are right. We must take action." Théoden leaned back on his throne and considered the situation at hand. Finally, he said, "We cannot stay in Edoras. She is vulnerable."

"There is always Helmsdeep," said Éothain.

"What's that?" I asked.

Éomer shot me a silencing glare, but then it transformed into a smirk. "Ignorance, Ana."

I made a face at him. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Helmsdeep is the great fortress of Rohan," said one of the riders, Farlan I think his name was. "It has saved us before in the past."

"Oh." I glanced up at Théoden before turning to whisper to Éomer, "It's the old why-fix-what-isn't-broke philosophy, huh?"

Éothain glared at me across the table.

"I do not think that course of action would be wisest," said Aragorn. "Saruman will expect such a move. What he would not expect is an open battle. Call the men, take up arms."

Théoden scowled, his cheeks reddening with anger. "I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you," said Aragorn, "whether you would risk it or not."

The frustration that had been building up inside of Théoden burst forth. "Who are you? Who are you to speak here? When last I looked, Théoden—not Aragorn—was king of Rohan."

Théoden glowered at Aragorn, while Aragorn kept his gave even and measured. Neither man was willing to budge in his point.

Gimli let out a low whistle. I looked at him and nodded. Things were getting tense.

"If you flee to Helmsdeep," said Gandalf calmly, "you will have to take the women and children with you. Saruman will attack Helmsdeep and if you fall, then your women and children will fall with you. What Aragorn suggests is that you meet Saruman in open battle. Draw him away from your women and children."

"And what if Saruman does not take the bait?" asked Théoden. "I will not be played the fool."

"You must meet him head on," said Aragorn. "Do not give him time to choose the bait or no."

Théoden stared at Aragorn for a long moment, this time actually considering what had been suggested. The ponderous look faded from his eyes, and Théoden shook his head. "No. No, I dare not face Saruman in open field. We know too little of the enemy to take such a risk. We will flee to Helmsdeep."

"I must agree with Lord Aragorn," said Éothain. "Retreating to Helmsdeep will not stop Saruman. He will only ravage the land of Rohan before reaching us in Helmsdeep. We should instead turn our eye to Saruman. Strike him before he strikes us."

"I don't think you need to worry about Saruman," I said.

Instantly, everyone turned to me.

"What do you mean?" asked Théoden, suspiciously.

"Well," I said, glancing around awkwardly. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I didn't like to reveal the future in case it changed things. Still, everyone present was staring at me, expecting me to say something, so I muttered, "Let's not be hasty, and let nature take its course."

Théoden regarded me, suspiciously. For a moment I thought he was going to say something (perhaps kick me out of his council meeting), but then Théoden turned away to say something in an undertone to Gandalf. Éomer's gaze lingered on me. I couldn't tell if he was amused by my answer or annoyed. Gandalf, however, knew there was something going on that I was not saying; after all, he knew about the Senturiel. He furrowed his brow and regarded me carefully. Perhaps he knew what I was heavily hinting at. Perhaps not. It's Gandalf—who can ever tell what he's thinking?

"We make for Helmsdeep," said Théoden resolutely. "Tell the people to pack their things. Take only what provisions they need."

Aragorn stiffened, his face fixed in a permanent grimace. However, he did not speak out against Théoden, but only nodded his head. Éothain had a similar reaction—though , unlike Aragorn, he would never disagree with his king so vehemently. Gandalf seemed more resigned to the decision, though there was a hardening in his eyes that I had never seen before.

The council rose from their seats and began to take action. Éomer and some of the others headed out to bring news to the people of Edoras. Théoden still had some words to exchange with Éothain and the others. Gandalf had his own little secret council with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

I would have joined the Fellowship, but at that moment, Gaenry and Taysend walked into the hall. They caught sight of me and grinned. (Well, Gaenry grinned. Taysend just rolled his eyes as I sprinted across the hall to join them.)

"How was your important meeting?" asked Gaenry.

"Great," I said. "Aragorn and Théoden got into a cat fight. Théoden thought Aragorn stepped out of line and he threw a hissy fit. But then Gandalf kept Théoden and Aragorn's cat fight in line. Then the Théoden-Cat declared that all the little Rohan-Cats were moving to Helmsdeep and the Aragorn-Cat did not even let out a meow of protest. So the council came to an end, and we are all here now."

"I did not understand a word of what she said," muttered Taysend.

"Why were there cats in the meeting?" asked Gaenry.

I sighed. "I'm just a poor soul who's misunderstood. Basically, the whole meeting ended when Théoden declared that we were fleeing to Helmsdeep."

"Oh." Gaenry nodded. "Why did you not just say that to begin with?"

"I'm not sure what Helmsdeep is," I said. "A fortress, I know that. But people don't seem to like it very much."

"People have been gathering there ever since the raids began," said Taysend. "They like it very much."

"Raids?"

"Saruman sends his orcs and men from the mountains to attack the villages of Rohan. The people are forced to flee their homes, so they head to Helmsdeep," explained Gaenry.

"Oh. It's the safe house of Rohan." I nodded. "Sounds fun. But why do Aragorn, Éothain, and Gandalf have a problem with the safe house?"

Aragorn's deep voice cut through our conversation. "There is no escape from Helmsdeep."

I jumped and spun around to see the grim ranger standing behind me.

"If Saruman decides to send his army of orcs to Helmsdeep, and Rohan loses, there will be no salvation for men," said Aragorn. "Théoden is sorely underestimating what Saruman in capable of."

"Oh." I pushed a strand of blonde hair out of my eyes. "So what are you going to do?"

"I am going to travel with Théoden to Helmsdeep," said Aragorn. "And Gandalf is going to—"

I Skipped.

"—find Erkenbrand of Westfold and bring reinforcements."

Gaenry leapt backwards, looking about wildly as if I might be hiding behind a pillar. "Where did she go?"

"She disappeared!" cried Taysend. "Vanished! Into thin air!"

"What kind of witchcraft is this?" asked Gaenry.

Aragorn sighed and shook his head. "Do not worry. She does this all the time."

"All the time?" Taysend was turning white.

"What do we do?" asked Gaenry.

"You should go about your business and help the people of Edoras prepare for the long road to Helmsdeep," said Aragorn. "And do not worry about Ana. She will show up again." He grimaced. "She always does."

Okay, I only found out what happened from Taysend later on, so I wasn't present to hear Aragorn's wise advice. Instead of hanging out in Edoras with my new rider friends, I found myself somewhere in the dark of Mirkwood, completely alone.

The last time I had visited Mirkwood, I had just witnessed Boromir's death, and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield had taken it upon themselves to cheer me up. The memory of the Company was comforting but with it came the image of Boromir with arrows protruding from his chest. And, for a moment, I just stood beneath the decaying trees of Mirkwood, trying not to let the memories consume me.

I didn't know what time period I was in now—the Fellowship or the Company or some time in between, but Mirkwood hadn't changed from my last visit.

You've been to Mirkwood before, so you know what it's like to be standing on the uneven floor, looking up at the knotted branches that form a ceiling over your head. It was suffocating to say the least. Like the trees themselves had formed a prison around me and were now mocking me that there was no way to escape. It was impossible to know what time it was since the sky was completely obscured from view, but it must have been daylight hours since I could see with perfect clarity the brown tree leaves and cracked rocks that covered the forest floor The tree roots formed twisted patterns over the ground, zigzagging and crossing one another like slithering serpents.

"Hello?" I called out. "Anybody there?"

My only answer was the groaning of trees.

God, I hated Mirkwood. All those trees. They were alive and unfriendly, and if I gave them the chance, the trees would probably open their trunks and swallow me whole. I would be sealed inside a tree until I died. Urg. Definitely, definitely, didn't want to die that way.

I stepped carefully around the tree roots, careful not to upset any particularly vengeful tree. At one point, I accidentally broke a branch off one tree. I screamed and leapt away from the tree, shouting apologies at the top of my lungs. That tree was one of the nice ones apparently, since it let me keep on walking.

I wandered through the forest for who knows how long. My legs felt like iron, and my head was ringing. My whole body begged me for a rest. When I first saw the thin light in the distance, I thought I'd imagined it, that it had been some kind of forest mirage.

But soon it dawned on me that the lights were real. Up ahead, in the distance, between the thick tree trunks, there was a dim golden light. The moment I realized that I was no longer alone in the forest, I sprinted forward, desperate to find some help. I didn't stop to think what might be running towards—trolls, goblins, evil things, elves—I just ran. I burst through the thicket of trees and stumbled into the clearing.

There was a little fire burning, the white flames dancing elegantly. Several figures stood around the fire, their eyes wide with shock as they stared at me. They were all tall. With those ridiculously perfect faces that make you hate them. And those pointy ears.

"Aw man," I groaned. "Elves."

"Who are you?" One of the elves pointed a blade at my throat. I blinked and, slowly, her face came into focus. She had long, red-brown hair that ended somewhere around her waist and a porcelain face with dainty features. She was not, however, porcelain in the slightest. The blade in her hand looked particularly deadly.

"Who are you" I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"You are not in a position to do the asking." The elf pressed the tip of her blade against my throat. She did not pierce the skin, but I could feel the icy edge.

"Hey now." I raised my hands into the air and stepped backwards. "Let's not be hasty. I'm Ana Stonbit. I come in peace."

"And what brings you to Mirkwood, Ana Stonbit?" asked the elf.

"I'm just passing through," I said. "I don't want to be in Mirkwood any more than you want me to be in Mirkwood. So if you can just lower your knife and point me in the direction of the fastest way out of Mirkwood, I'll be on my way, and we'll never have to meet again. Sound good? I think so. You do too? Okay, we're all in agreement. I'll just be on my way. I'd say it was nice to meet you, but it really wasn't. So I'll just go."

I tried to walk away, but another elf caught hold of my wrist and held me in place. This elf was male with long, white-blond hair, and—gah—he was ridiculously good-looking too. Why must even the male elves be prettier than me?

"Stay put," said the male elf.

I glowered at him and muttered, under my breath, "Elves."

"Galion," said the female elf. "What should we do with her?"

"She has interrupted Mereth Nuin Giliath, Tauriel," said Galion, shaking my arm roughly. "The king will not be pleased."

His grip was starting to hurt. I pulled away from him and, rubbing my aching wrist, said, "Look, I don't like you any more than you like me, so let's just forget this ever happened. I don't care about your Mereth Noon Gilly-all-ath thing. I just want to go…"

"It is pronounced Mere-eth Noo-in Gill-ee-ath," said one of the elves, this one had brown hair. (He was holding a wooden barrel—mostly likely elvish wine—under one arm). "The Feast of Starlight."

"We will bring to prisoner before King Thranduil," said Tauriel.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked. "Don't you have some imprisoned dwarves to go hate on?"

Tauriel shot me a surprised glance, which she quickly covered up with an irritable glare. "Come."

"Are there imprisoned dwarves?" I asked. If they had Thorin in their prison, then that would mean I was in Mirkwood during the time of the Company.

"No," said Tauriel, and I couldn't tell if she was speaking the truth or not.

Galion kept a firm hand on my shoulder as he pushed me through the forest. Tauriel, who, it turned out was Captain of the Woodland Guard, led the way, weaving through the densely woven trees with the ease of someone who had been raised in Mirkwood.

As we walked through the forest, the elves began to talk amongst themselves in Sindarin. I later learned the elves' names, but I'll just tell them to you now to avoid confusion. There were five others besides Tauriel and Galion, all male. Riadan was the one holding the barrel of wine. He talked way too much. We were almost kin in that sense…only, he was an elf. We'll just say Riadan and I are estranged relatives. Turthonion was the tall one with medium-length, blond hair. He had an easy smile and liked to party a little too much. Turungol was the awkward little brother of Turthonion, who tagged along and tried to act as cool as his big brother but failed miserably. It was adorable, like the elf version of Kíli and Thorin except not majestic. Lastaeon was the king of sarcasm. I kid you not. I have never heard him say anything that was not sarcastic and biting. Just wait. You'll see. And finally, Valior was a…you know, I don't remember a lot about Valior, just a lot of "Mmhmm".

The eight of us marched through Mirkwood back to wherever Thranduil and his kin were waiting. Well, the elves didn't really march; they moved with graceful ease. I, on the other hand, blundered through the forest like a frigging whale. And yes, a whale can blunder through a forest. Oh wait. You don't even know what a whale is. Never mind.

"Can you be any louder?" asked Lastaeon.

"Excuse me," I said. "I'm not a frigging tree-hugger like you elves. I don't spend my life in the forest prancing amongst the trees."

"Tree hugger?" asked Turungol. "What is this phrase?"

"I think she means to say that we are huggers of trees," said Riadan. "Though I have to say that is a rather ridiculous statement. I have never hugged a tree in all my existence. It would be rather awkward. I would have to spread my arms really wide and wrap them around the tree's trunk. Do you hug a tree around the trunk? Or would you hug a tree's branches?"

"I think you shake the tree's branches if you want to shake hands with the tree," I said. "If you hug the tree, then you hug the trunk."

"But some of the trees have really large trunks," said Riadan. "I do not think I could hug those trees."

"Then just hug the skinny trees."

"But I do not wish to be unfair to the large trees," said Riadan. "They would think I was showing preference to the thin trees."

"True." I nodded. "The tree-love should be shared equally."

"Joy," said Lastaeon. "She speaks the same language as Riadan."

"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.

"I do not know," said Turthonion. "Riadan is quite amusing when he has consumed too much wine. Perhaps if Ana drinks too much wine as well, they will make an amusing pair."

"So your plan is to get me drunk?" I asked.

Turthonion shot me a grin. "It could prove to be quite entertaining."

"Do you recall that time Riadan drank too much wine and decided to take a swim in the river?" asked Turungol eagerly. "But then he forgot about the biting fish that dwelled in the river?"

"Ah." Riadan winced in pain. "My behind was never right again."

"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.

"I didn't know elves could get drunk," I said. "Elladan and Elrohir are still sober even after the rest of us have passed out. And Legolas—the stupid pretty-boy—is like, 'I feel something in the tips of my fingers.'"

"Legolas?" asked Galion, his grip on my shoulder tightening. "How do you know Legolas?"

"Er." I glanced around nervously before asking, out of the blue, "What time is it?"

The elves exchanged bemused looks before Turthonion said, "Almost dusk."

"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.

"No," I said. "What time period? Have you thrown Thorin in jail yet?"

"Thorin?" Galion's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What do you know of Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Uh…All right then. I haven't met Legolas yet. So—who is this Legolas you speak of? You must have misheard me. I only know the elf…Legia. Yes. I was talking about Legia. She prances around like a little fairy and is like, 'Oh look at me! Can I borrow your shiny sword so I can look at my reflection in the shiny metal? No? Well, then I'll just steal your sword so I can look at my reflection in the shiny metal? What's that? You need it to fight the orcs who are attack you? Too bad.'" I glanced at the elves, hoping they were buy into my blatant lie.

"I have never encountered her," said Riadan. "But do you know who is worse? Legolas. He rises early every morning—even when he has consumed too much wine the night before—to ensure that his blond hair is perfect. He cannot stand a single strand out of place." Riadan fluffed his hair and raised the pitch of his voice. "'Presentation is crucial, Riadan. I am a prince of Mirkwood. Even when celebrating with other elves who have consumed too much wine to know up from down, I must look my best.'" Riadan flicked his long hair over his shoulder. "'It is the heavy burden of being an elven princeling.'"

"You have Legolas down perfectly." I coughed. "I mean Legia. Wow. They sound like the same person. Who would've thought?"

"Perhaps," said Riadan. "Legia and Legolas are long lost twins. Thranduil might be deceiving us all. You must bring this Legia to Mirkwood and we shall see."

"All right," I said. (Never going to happen.) "Legia and Legolas are probably identical."

"You are genius!" cried Riadan. "We shall reveal the twins to Thranduil, and he will be so shocked that he shall tell us the truth behind their parentage to us."

"The world is difficult enough with only Riadan around," said Lastaeon. "Now we must have two? Joy."

"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.

"You're just jealous," I said. "Riadan and I are like long lost siblings."

Riadan gasped. "You do not think we are?"

"No way," I said bluntly. "I am not related to an elf. Thorin would disown me."

"Why do you keep mentioning Thorin Oakenshield?" asked Galion.

"You do not like me?" Riadan, thankfully, continued to ignore my Thorin comments, which made it easy for me to ignore Galion's questions.

"Well," I said. "I suppose we can be estranged step-siblings. You're now my elven step-brother."

Riadan laughed and lifted the wooden barrel of wine into the air. "Shall we drink to that?"

"I'm up for it," I said.

"Not now, Riadan." Tauriel's voice cracked through the air, filled with command.

Riadan looked heartbroken. "Why not?"

"Because we have arrived."

Tauriel pushed aside some branches and stepped past the trees into another clearing. The rest of us followed. There were more elves in this clearing, too many to count. There were stacks of wine barrels, and upbeat music playing loudly. A great fire roared in the center of the clearing as elves—male and female—pranced about, laughing and drinking and having a good time. I spotted Legolas pretty easily. He was drinking a bottle of wine while talking to a red-haired female elf. (I always knew Legolas was a player.)

"Tauriel!" said one of the elves, catching sight of her. "Have you returned already?"

"We found this one wandering in the forest," said Tauriel, gesturing towards me.

I smiled and waved awkwardly.

The elf froze. His eyes narrowed in suspicion at the sight of me. However, Riadan stepped forward and wrapped one arm protectively around my shoulders. "Do not fear, Erudorn. this is my estranged step-sister, Ana Stonbit."

"She does not look like an elf," said Erudorn stiffly.

"Step-sister," I corrected. "We're siblings only through marriage."

"You created that relationship through your wild fantasies," said Galion. "Do not try to pass it as fact."

"Bring her before the king," said Tauriel, "and he shall decide what to do with our intruder."

"Man," I grumbled, "Riadan is the only cool one among you."

"Ana? Is that you/"

I looked up and saw the red-headed female elf that Legolas had been talking to earlier. She was sprinting across the clearing towards me. Only she was not an elf. Thin and boney with red hair and freckles…she was human. She was Bonnie.