NOTES:
Someone informed me that Riwen is actually a female elf name. So I went back and changed his name to Riadan.
Also, the Tauriel in this story is out of character for the movies. Why? Because I was unsatisfied with how they did her in the movies. They said they wanted to add a strong female role model, so they added a female elf who is in a love triangle with Legolas and Kili and who doesn't even do her job as captain of the guard properly. (She runs off first chance she gets cause she's semi-interested in a dwarf). So, in this story, Tauriel is a badass captain of the guard who doesn't like dwarves (like every other elf).
PART ONE: ANACHRONISM
Chapter XXXVII: All Aboard The Party Moose
"Bonnie!" I cried, flinging my arms around her shoulders and holding her in a suffocatingly tight embrace. "You're here—with the elves!"
"I was wondering where you had disappeared to!" Bonnie released me and stepped back with a grin on her freckled face. "Three weeks ago, I woke up in the forest—alone and confused and worried as hell about you and Nick. And now I've found you've been wandering in Mirkwood all alone as well." She paused, glanced over me and added, "I'm surprised your ass is all in one piece."
The two of us stood together at the edge of the clearing. Elves danced around the fire with loud music playing in the background. They were drinking and merrymaking as if there would be no tomorrow. (This was nothing out of the ordinary, they partied like this almost every night, or so Legolas told me.) Most of the elves paid us no more attention that a curious glance. However, there were nine elves (pretty-boy Legolas, grim Erudorn, badass Tauriel, serious Galion, my step-brother Riadan, party boy Turthonion, wannabe party boy Turungol, sarcastic Lastaeon, and mmhmm Valior) who were gathered around, watching Bonnie and me with puzzled expressions.
"So, Bonnie," I said, trying to find the right words. "Um—I haven't exactly been wandering through Mirkwood all this time…" I glanced left and right at the elves, who all listening to my words intently. "But, you know, now's not the time for boring chitchat. I can't believe you ended up in Mirkwood with the elves! I mean, I thought Nick had it bad spending his time in goblin town…"
Bonnie laughed. "What you talking about? The elves are great."
"Oh no!" I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands. "They've converted you. You've become a tree hugger too!"
"What does she mean by tree 'hugger'?" asked Erudorn.
"A hugger of trees," said Riadan. "My step-sister seems to think that we elves wander through Mirkwood opening our arms and embracing the trees."
"That is a rather odd action," said Erudorn.
"I can't believe you don't love elves," said Bonnie. "They are such party animals. Though I guess you don't like drinking."
I laughed. "Me? Don't like drinking? I was converted. By…" I trailed off when I saw Legolas properly for the first time. His long hair was just as blond as ever. Stupid pretty boy elf.
"Hi," I said.
"Do I know you?" asked Legolas.
"You will," I said. "I'm Ana."
"Of course, he will know you," muttered Lastaeon. "Or do you not understand the purpose of introductions?
"He'll understand in sixty years or so," I said.
"He'll probably have forgotten you by that point," said Bonnie. "Sixty years is a long time." She frowned. "And what are you talking about?"
"He'll remember me," I said, smirking at Legolas. "Oh, he'll remember me." I turned to Bonnie and beamed at her. "So, tell me about Mirkwood. You said you've been here for three weeks. Be honest now—how bad is it? Is it true that they all spend five hours in the morning just preparing their hair?"
"I do no such thing," said Riadan.
"Of course, you do not," said Turthonion. "We have all seen your hair in the morning. It is a nest fit for rats."
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
"Ah," said Riadan, flicking his long hair over his shoulder. "Jealously is a burden of the less fortunate. You are all envious of my lush waterfall of brown hair."
"Who describes their hair as a waterfall?" asked Bonnie.
"No one," said Riadan. "Because no one besides me has hair befitting that description."
"Anyway," said Bonnie, cutting across him and turning to me, "you underestimate how incredible elvish parties are. I mean, Thranduil is the party king. He likes to pretend to be all graceful and cool, but when he gets drunk—damn, that man is funny. So, he has this elk—"
"He has an elk?" I asked.
"He doesn't ride a horse," said Bonnie. "He's too majestic for that. So he rides an elk."
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
"Hold up." I practically shoved my hand into Bonnie's face as I stopped her from saying another word. "You did not just use the word 'majestic' to describe an elf."
"Yo, get your hand out of my face," said Bonnie, pushing my hand away. "So what if I called an elf majestic? Thranduil is definitely majestic."
"He's about as majestic as my ass."
"You don't have an ass." Bonnie pointed rudely to my backside, which I admit is rather flat and nonexistent.
"My point exactly. Anyone who considers an elf to be majestic has obviously not met Thorin Majestenshield. He is the most majestic thing to walk this Earth. When he was born, the sun did not rise for three days because it would not handle a brilliance of his majesty. His majesty shines through the darkness like a beacon. He leads his company through the dangers of the world with pure majesty. Do not insult Thorin Majestenshield or he will unleash his full majesty on you—and you don't want that."
Bonnie stared at me for a long moment. "Relax. You are way to hyped up about this majestic thing."
"Bonnie," said Legolas, "I think that your friend does not have every piece in the right place." He pointed to his head.
"She doesn't," said Bonnie. "She's kooky."
"You're kooky," I said. "No. Your elvenking is kooky. He rides a frigging moose."
"He rides an elk," corrected Turungol automatically.
"He rides a moose," I repeated. "The animal might have originally been an elk, but then the elvenking sat on the elk's back and it turned into a moose. That's how unmajestic elves are."
"You do not like elves very much," said Riadan sadly.
"You're the exception, step-brother," I said. "You're awesome."
Riadan grinned at me.
The rest of the elves glowered at me. They probably would have thrown me in the dungeons with the rest of the dwarves if it hadn't been for my friendship with Riadan and Bonnie.
"When did you become step-siblings with Riadan?" asked Bonnie. "Did you parents get a recent divorce and remarry or something? How do your parents even know elves?"
"It's a long story," I said.
"It involves much wine consumption," added Riadan.
"Those are always the best stories," said Turthonion.
"We should crack open a barrel," I said. "And then I'll tell you the story of how I came to be step-siblings with Riadan."
"It is an epic tale," said Riadan.
I nodded. "Filled with tears."
"And laughter."
"And majesty."
"And Ana's non-existent behind."
I glared at him and said, "That's the best part."
Riadan grinned back. "And also the worst part."
"The second best part is Mr. Squeaky, the rat that lives in Riadan's hair."
"I have a rat that lives in my hair?"
"Named Mr. Squeaky."
Tauriel sighed and rested her forehead against the palm of her hand. "You two are not actual step-siblings. You invented that relationship on the walk here."
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
"That's what we want you to think," I said.
"Ana," said Bonnie, elbowing me in the ribs, "You have not changed a bit." She caught me by the hand and started pulling me away from the group of elves. "Come on. I want to show you around."
"No." With a hand motion from Tauriel, Galion reached out and caught hold of my other arm. Tauriel stepped forward and glowered at me. "We must bring her before King Thranduil."
"Is that necessary?" asked Legolas. "She seems reasonably trustworthy. Though she does constantly insult us and she is short like a dwarf. But Bonnie knows her—that does count in her favor."
"Aw, Legolas," I said, smiling at him. "Aren't you sweet? Why can't you be this nice to me in the future?"
Legolas frowned at me, uncomprehending. "I have just compared you to a dwarf—that is far from a compliment."
"Nicest thing you could ever say to me," I said. "Dwarves are frigging epic. You should all take lessons on majesticness from the dwarves. I'm telling you. They are the epitome of dedication and bonding, and all those strong qualities required of leaders. I aspire to be a dwarf one day. They are my role models in life. Particularly Thorin. That dwarf—he puts all other dwarves to shame. Especially Kíli. You cannot even call Kíli a dwarf. He doesn't even have a beard."
"She admires those short, grizzly little mountain dwellers," said Turthonion, shuddering in disgust. "She is most definitely not trustworthy."
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
At this point, a large group of elves had stopped their celebration and had gathered at the distance to listen to our conversation. They didn't dare join the themselves, but rather listened with half-curiosity and half-amusement.
"You should take lessons on majesty from Thorin," I said. "Then you would be less of tree huggers and more epic."
"I still do not understand what she means by the expression 'tree huggers'," said Erudorn.
"There is an easy step-by-step process on how to become as majestic as Thorin," I continued. "Firstly, you need a tragic back story. If you don't have a tragic back story then the whole deal is off. If you really want to become majestic, but you don't have a tragic back story, you can always invent one. Let's take Lastaeon for instance."
"Fortunate me," muttered Lastaeon. (Note the sarcasm.)
"Lastaeon, doesn't have a tragic back story."
"Actually," said Turungol. "He does have a tragic back story. His brother was killed by—"
"Like I said—Lastaeon doesn't have a tragic back story. So we create him one. Lastaeon parents were killed by orcs, leaving him an orphan in the forest of Mirkwood. Okay. Now that we have your tragic back story in place, we need the brooding. You cannot be majestic without majestic brooding. It's the depth of your soul that makes you majestic. The brooding is the easy part—unless you're Kíli. You just stand there and think about your tragic back story. Okay? Lastaeon? Show us how."
Lastaeon glared at me.
"Perfect," I said. "He already has the brooding part down. However, that does not make you majestic yet. It takes much more than brooding to make you majestic. Third step—you need a group of admirers. Well…" I glanced around at the group of elves surrounding us. "I supposed this can be your fanclub. The Lastellians, they'll call themselves. Legolas is the president. Tauriel is the secretary. Galion is the treasurer. And…Valior is the mascot."
"I do not wish to be in charge of any such club," said Legolas.
"Now that we have the formation of your fanclub underway," I said. "That brings us to step four—the formation of your anti-fanclub. No one can be majestic without others to be jealous of your majesty. Now, since the elves here are part of your fanclub…"
"The dwarves can form the anti-fanclub," said Turungol.
"The dwarves are too majestic to be part of anyone's anti fanclub," I said flatly. "No, Lastaeon's anti-fanclub can be the orcs that killed his parents. He has an ongoing feud with those orcs. They cannot bear the thought of such a near-majestic being existing so they hunt Lastaeon relentlessly."
"Is he majestic enough yet?" asked Galion, sighing.
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
"Not nearly," I said. "We still have step five—ridiculous good-looks despite being small in stature." I looked over Lastaeon. "Well, you're tall. That's a minus. But you are ridiculously good-looking,"
"What does height have to do with it?" asked Bonnie.
"Think about it," I said. "It's easy for a good-looking tall person to be attractive. But for a short person—now that is a challenge that only the most majestic dwarves can rise to."
"I'm assuming Thorin is one hot dwarf," said Bonnie.
"It's not that his face is especially attractive," I said. "Though, yes, he is fairly good-looking. But that his whole attitude is attractive. The way he holds himself. The way he broods. The way he commands the company—that is one attractive dwarf."
"I think Ana has been struck by an arrow," said Turthonion. "An arrow of love." He mimed having an arrow through his chest, collapsing in Lastaeon's arms. Lastaeon rolled his eyes and pushed Turthonion away.
"So with all these things Lastaeon can be majestic?" asked Riadan eagerly.
"Lastaeon? Majestic?" I asked. "All these steps can bring him closer to the beauty that is called majesty, but Lastaeon? Majesty is something you are inherently born with. Lastaeon is an elf. Therefore he can never be majestic."
Riadan looked heartbroken. "So I too can never become majestic?"
I patted Riadan on the shoulder comfortingly. "You can always be a sexy elf."
"But I wanted to be majestic," said Riadan. "Then you could look at your step-brother and be proud."
"You are ridiculous," said Galion.
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
"Why would you want to have anything in common with a dwarf?" asked Tauriel.
"You do not have any siblings," cried Riadan. "You would not understand!"
"You do not have any siblings either," said Tauriel irritably.
"That is it," said Erudorn. "She has taken control of Riadan's brain and addled his wits."
"I think you mean brainwashed," I said. "And, no, I haven't. We just happen to have become very close step-siblings."
"It must be some kind of sorcery," said Turthonion.
"She is a witch!" cried Turungol.
"I heard rumor of a necromancer in these woods," said Galion, turning his dark eyes on me. "Perhaps the necromancer has come to stay with the elves of Mirkwood."
"Necromancer?" I asked. "Isn't that one of those spell castor things who bring things back to life?"
Legolas turned to his fellow elves. "You suspect her of being the dreaded necromancer?"
"She could be acting," said Tauriel, though she looked as though she doubted my guilt as well.
"The necromancer must have no shame," said Galion.
"Come on," grumbled Bonnie. "Ana's my friend. An idiot, but my friend. I would know if she was a necromancer."
Some of the elves had started to nod in agreement with Bonnie's words, but right at the moment, a loud clear voice interrupted our conversation, asking, "What is this commotion that interferes with Mereth Nuin Giliath?"
Instantly, the elves stiffened. Their bodies seemed to go rigid and their eyes widened in horror. The only elf present who did not seem mortified at the sound of this new voice was Legolas. He seemed more resigned than frightened.
The voice belong to a figure astride an elk. It was a tall elf who was dressed in silver robes and who had long, blond hair that was decorated with a backwards crown. He looked like the King of the Tree Huggers. I'm not kidding. His crown appeared to be made of silver twigs that struck out from behind his head like a bird's nest. I could definitely see this elf running around the forest on the back of his elk hugging trees—the skinny ones and the fat ones.
"Father," said Legolas. "You have returned already."
"Yes," said Thranduil, "the clearing I was supposed to meet Tauriel in was empty. I returned here, only to find that Tauriel and Galion have been shirking their duties."
"We were not," said Tauriel indignantly. "This woman came running into the clearing. We were suspicious of her so we brought her to you with the intent that you may decide what to do with her."
"Hi," I said. "I'm Ana Stonbit. All this formality and threatening isn't really necessary—I'm just passing through."
"You're not going to stay?" asked Bonnie.
"What? No. I'm leaving as soon as possible, and you're coming with me."
"Why?" asked Bonnie.
"So we can go home."
Bonnie blinked. At first, she was confused, but then her eyes widened with comprehension. "We can go home? You know a way to get home."
Guilt stabbed through my chest. Even though Bonnie was having a much better time in Middle Earth than Nick had, she was undoubtedly longing for home. I oculd explain to her that this was the Skip's fault, my fault. Well, I had to try.
"I am the way home," I said but stopped when I realized that at least fifty elves were listening in. "Look, I'll tell you everything when we get back to Ohio."
Thranduil frowned. He kept looking back and forth between Bonnie and me. The suspicion never left his eyes.
"So," I said, smiling weakly at the elven king. "I like your moose."
Thranduil looked down at his elk an then looked back up at me. "It is an elk."
"It's an awesome moose," I said. I could see Bonnie watching, the meaning of my words slowly sinking in. My heartbeat was picking up speed. "Does it party as hard as the elves? Is it your special party moose?" Eventually, Bonnie would realize that it was my fault that she had missed a year in Ohio. Would she be angry with me like Nick was? Would she be able to forgive me like Nick did? "Do you have multiple moose that you ride for different occasions? Do you have a party moose and a war moose and a funeral moose and a bedtime moose? That would be awesome."
Thranduil stared at me for a good long moment. Then, he turned to Bonnie and asked, "Is she serious?"
Bonnie sighed and nodded. "She does this all the time."
"I like her," said Turthonion. "I cannot wait to see what she is like after having consumed too much wine."
"I would rather not find out," said Tauriel.
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
"I'm excited to see her drunk," cried Bonnie. "This is the Ana who thought going to bars was a waste of time."
"I told you," I said. "I was converted.".
"By who?"
I paused. "People."
"I have the wine," said Riadan, holding up the wooden barrel. "Shall we begin the drinking?"
Before I knew what was going on, Turthonion had shoved a cup of wine in my hand, and I was practically chugged the stuff down. As soon as I had finished one cup, another cup, filled with purple wine, took its place. It didn't take long before the alcohol got to my head. The world was spinning. The elves were laughing. And singing. And dancing. And talking.
This next part is blurry in my memory, so I might make parts of it up here and there and exaggerate in places because I can. Bear with me. I was really out of it.
"Damn," I said. "You people all look like moose now."
"That would be because you are talking to the elk," said Galion.
I reached out a hand and patted the side of the elk's face. Thranduil glared at me, and the elk tried to bite my fingers off.
"Nice moose," I murmured.
I wandered back across the clearing. I almost fell several times, but Bonnie caught me by the arm and held me upright. We soon joined a very drunk Riadan and Turthonion who were sitting on a table and singing some elvish drinking song at the top of their lungs. (They had pretty elvish voices even when as drunk as hell.)
"I don't think that moose likes me very much," I said.
"Of course not," said Turthonion. "He is an elk. You cannot even get that correct, so why would the elk like you?"
"No, no," I said. "I don't think that's it. I just think animals inherently don't like me. Do I give off some sort of anti-animal smell?"
"That can be your anti-fanclub," said Bonnie. "You have one of the steps to majesty down."
"Except she in incapable of brooding," said Turthonion.
"And she does not have a fanclub," said Riadan. "Just an anti-fanclub."
"Shut up," I said. "I have fans. You just don't know them."
"The dwarves?" asked Turthonion, laughing as if he had just given me the greatest insult imaginable.
"Well, no," I said. "Thorin is too majestic to be a part of anyone's fanclub. But… I have a fanclub in Rohan. Except they make fun of me. Okay, not them, but I have a fanclub in Gondor. Except Denethor tends to throw me in jail…At least the hobbits like me. Sort of. I think…"
"That means no," said Bonnie. "You are fanclubless."
"Poor, sister," said Riadan. "I shall be a part of your fanclub."
"The only one," muttered Bonnie.
"Some friend you are, Bonnie," I snapped. "Riadan is such a good brother." I tried to hug Riadan, but I missed and almost did a face plant on the ground. Bonnie caught my arm and held me upright.
"Turthonion," said Bonnie irritably. "You gave her too much to drink."
"She only had four cups of wine," said Turthonion. "How would I know that she would become intoxicated so quickly?"
"It's elvish wine, idiot," snapped Bonnie. "I'm surprised she lasted four cups."
"It is amusing," said Turthonion. "Besides, Thranduil trusts her more now that she is drunk."
Bonnie sighed. "Well, I can't argue with that."
"You know," I said, hopping on top of a table to sit next to Riadan. "I really hate elves."
"Careful," said Turthonion, who seemed more amused by my insults that actually insulted. "You are amongst elves."
"They're frigging pretty boys." The world floated in and out as I spoke. "You know what every elf needs."
"What does every elf need?" asked Turthonion eagerly.
"I think my sister is about to say something she will regret," said Riadan.
Bonnie groaned. "Stop while you're behind, Ana."
I hiccupped and laughed. "Every elf needs to take a really long, pointy branch of a Mirkwood tree and frigging drive the stick up into their behind and leave it there for a good day. And then, only then, will elves know how the rest of the world sees them."
Bonnie sighed. "Yeah. I was right."
Valior had stopped mid-sip of wine and turned to stare at me. His blue eyes narrowed, and he lowered the cup of wine away from his lips.
"What are you going to do?" I hiccupped. "Mmhmm me to death? If you want, I can help you find the pointiest stick."
Valior took a step toward me. "You little—" He said something in elvish that I couldn't understand, but apparently it was bad, because the elves all gasped and exchanged horrified glances.
"What is it? What did he say?" I looked from Bonnie to Riadan and back.
"Nothing good," muttered Bonnie.
"But I wanna know!" I cried. "I wanna know!"
Riadan leaned over a muttered the translation in my ear. I will never repeat the meaning of what Valior said. You'll take offense. Actually, I think every race in Middle Earth except goblins would take offense at that comment.
I gasped. "Valior, you should stick to your mmhmms. They're much nicer!" I paused and then giggled. "Did you hear the stick pun I just made? Get it? Stick?"
"I think we should leave now," said Bonnie, glancing over her shoulders at the numerous elves who were glaring at me and plotting my demise. "Like right now, Ana."
Unfortunately, I was too drunk to notice my impending death. I jumped off the table, tripped over my own feet, and almost made a crash landing. By pure luck, I caught hold of Bonnie and managed to stand straight.
"Whew," I said, grinning. "That was close."
"Ana," said Bonnie. "We should leave now."
"Leave?" I asked.
"What happened to the way home?" she asked, pleadingly.
"Well, yeah," I said. "I can get us home. But I don't have control over it." I paused. "Unless…"
"Ana," said Bonnie slowly. "I don't like that look in your eyes…what are you thinking?"
"Turthonion," I said. "Try to kill me."
Bonnie groaned. "Ana, you have lost it. I've always known you were insane, but this is ridiculous."
"It makes perfect sense!" I cried. "Besides I said—try to kill me. I'm obviously not planning on dying."
"If you need someone to try to kill you," said Turthonion. "Why do you not just ask Valior? He seems more than willing."
"Mmhmm." Valior nodded.
I screamed and flung my arms around Bonnie's neck. "He's a maniac!"
"Well," said Bonnie. "You did say that you would help him shove a stick up his ass."
"Did I?" I asked. "I don't remember this."
"It was less than five minutes ago."
"That was probably the alcohol talking."
Valior was already moving closer to me, fingering the elvish dagger that was strapped to his hip.
I flung my arms around my friend's neck and, with slurred words, cried, "Bonnie! Help me!"
"You dug your own grave on this one," she said, trying to pry me off. "Now, let me go."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
I Skipped.
"Yes."
"No."
Bonnie stopped talking. She stared at the surroundings. "Ana…why are we at the mall?"
We were standing in the middle of the sitting area in the mall, surrounded by potted plants and couches. My arms were still wrapped around Bonnie's shoulders as if she was about to piggyback me, and Bonnie was still holding onto my wrists, trying to pull me off. People were watching us with open-mouthed surprise. A bald man with a newspaper was staring at us from a maroon couch. A little girl had dropped her new Ariel doll. Her mother was unsure if she should grab her daughter and run or just stare at us in horror. A group of the three women had even stopped walking. They stood in the middle of the carpeted sitting area, clutching their shopping bags and gawking.
"Ana" Bonnie choked on my name, "we're back."
I let go of Bonnie and stepped away from her. I smiled at the shoppers and, in my drunken brilliance, said, "Hi. I'm just passing through. I'll be gone again before you know it. Don't worry about me. I might be running away from goblins, fleeing from a balrog, being hated on by drunk elves, avoiding prison in Gondor, saving a bewitched king—you know, the usual—but you guys won't know it because you're all so wrapped up in your simple little lives. So enjoy the moment."
They stared at me.
"We're back." Bonnie was still too much in shock to realize that I was making a drunken mess of everything.
"I'm like a carnival attraction," I slurred. "Come, look at the crazy girl who is half in this world and half in the other. She doesn't know where she is, what time it is, and why on Earth any of this is happening. So come! Gawk! Stare! It's like entertainment to go along with your shopping!"
Coming to her senses, Bonnie grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the crowd of shoppers. She found an empty corner beside a candle shop. Coming to a halt and releasing my hand, she turned to me and in a small voice, said, "I haven't been here in three weeks…"
"Actually," I said, "It's been about a year." It was much easier to tell her these things when my brain was fuzzy with alcohol. "You were on a normal timeline, it was me who was all over the place. One moment I'm with Thorin and Company and then next I'm frigging sixty years in the future being chased by the nazgûl. It's a complicated situation. But, yeah, we must be approaching my twenty-second birthday. Ah, that reminds me. You weren't here for your twenty-second birthday. Happy birthday, Bonnie! You're on the missing persons list!"
"A year?" whispered Bonnie. A shadow of horror crossed her face. Her hands were shaking. "Missing persons list? Ana? What happened to me?"
I swallowed. "Oh. Nothing out of the ordinary. I might have just accidentally transported you to another world. And then…accidentally…lost you."
Bonnie stared at me.
"I tried really hard to get you back! It's just not that easy to find you. I don't have any control. The Skipping decides. The Skipping didn't want me to find you until now. That's all! Honestly!"
"Ana," she said slowly.
"Yes?"
"What did you do?"
"I Skipped you to Middle Earth."
And right about then, Bonnie jumped on me and tried to rip all my hair out. I don't think she was very happy with the whole concept of Skipping.