PART ONE: ANACHRONISM
Chapter LVI: Inside The Secret Passage
The only safe place on the mountain slopes was in the secret tunnel, so following Thorin's lead, the Company and I huddled in the narrow stone passageway. We clung together, our backs, our hands, our arms, our legs, all squished together in one space. No one dared venture too far into the tunnel for fear of the deep, dark places in the world, and we all peered over one another's shoulders, trying to see what the dragon was doing.
Smaug torched the world. The forest was burning. The sky above was a hideous orange-gray, the rolling clouds were illuminated by the crackling flames. Smaug caught sight of the ponies the Company had gotten in Laketown. He snatched the poor beasts up in his jaws, and with a few snaps of his teeth, the ponies were no more.
I had no desire to see how Smaug punished us for Bilbo's burglary. After three Skips, I had seen more than enough of the dragon to last me a lifetime. I stood towards the back of the group, watching the dwarves clamor about, trying to get a good view of the burning forest. Bilbo stood next to me, his head bowed. I think both of us had seen the dragon before, and that was more than enough.
Bilbo watched me curiously for a second and then asked, "How do you know?"
"Huh?" I looked away from the dwarves to see the hobbit.
"How do you know about…" Bilbo stopped. His hand had to move over his jacket pocket before he tried again, "How do you know about the birthday present?"
Oh. He was talking about the Ring. I didn't want to explain that I'd heard the story of the Ring in the future, so I decided to simple say, "Don't worry, I have absolutely no desire for the, um, birthday present. And don't feel guilty about taking Gollum's birthday present because it wasn't his birthday present to begin with. People have done some vicious things for that birthday present and…" I stopped. I really needed to learn when to keep my mouth shut.
Bilbo stared at me blankly. "Vicious things?"
"Pretend I didn't say that," I said. "You've never gotten into a fight over a birthday present before? One time, my cousins on my mom's side…" I trailed off. It had just occurred to me that all my relatives were on my mom's side. I had never met any of my dad's siblings, cousins, aunts, or uncles, and I had been told that my grandparents had died before I was born. Of course, it may be that I do have relatives on my dad's side, they just live in Bree.
"Ana…" said Bilbo slowly.
"Huh?" I blinked. I had completely forgotten what I'd been talking about.
"Your cousins?" asked Bilbo.
"Oh, yeah, when they were little, they got into a slap-fight over a stupid doll," I finished lamely.
Bilbo hesitated and then said, "I do not see how this story has anything to do with the Ring."
"It doesn't," I said. "I just needed to distract you and it seemed like a good story to do that."
Bilbo opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. Finally, he managed a weak, "Oh, I see."
There a clap of thunder. At first, I first thought the sound was another one of Smaug's roars, but when the rain started to pour, like billions of shards of glass tumbling from the sky. The dwarves backed away from the entrance of the tunnel as the water splashed over their shoes and legs.
"At least that'll put out the forest fire," I said.
"You are being unusually cheerful," said Fíli.
I had absolutely no desire to tell them about my sudden realization that I might have family in Bree, so instead, I plastered a smile on my face and said, "Yep, I'm quite the optimist. Always look on the bright side of life and all that"
"Optimist?" asked Glóin.
"It means you look at the happy things and ignore the sad, life threatening things in life."
"Have you transformed into an optimist?" asked Fíli. "Did something happen to you while you were away from us?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I've always been an optimist."
"Yes," muttered Thorin, "because running away from trolls and telling them to eat us instead is such an optimist reaction."
"I was very optimistic. I hoped they would eat you instead of me."
"Can someone remind me why we put up with her presence?" asked Balin.
"My good-looks and charm," I said with a winning smile.
The dwarves almost fell over themselves with laughter. Glóin slapped his knee and clutched his stomach. Ori clapped his hands excitedly while he laughed and Bombur chuckled so much that his layers of fat jiggled wildly. Thorin managed a smile. Hell, I was laughed at by Kíli of all people. Kíli! You know you have reached the lowest of the low when Kíli—that unmajestic, hairless rat—laughs at you.
"We put up with her presence for the entertainment," said Balin though he was smiling at me.
"Finest entertainment on the road," added Glóin.
"Great," I muttered. "I'll get my Majesty With Wings boyband together, and we'll travel Middle Earth providing entertainment and cheer. Now, we just need to get the other hand of the boyband to come down from the sky and stop setting everything on fire."
"Smaug is no longer in the sky," said Dori.
I blinked. I hadn't expected Smaug to come down for some time, not until his rage had subsided. The dwarves were huddled around the entrance of the passageway so they could peer outside through the pouring rain. I stood on tiptoe, leaning on Fili's shoulder, so I could see over the dwarves' heads.
"Where's he gone?" I asked.
"He has gone back into his lair," said Balin.
I frowned. "Has he finished his temper tantrum then? That was awfully short."
"The forest is still burning," said Ori. "Should we go back outside? Will it be safe?
"Anywhere is better than this dank cave," grunted Glóin.
The Company took a vote, and in a thirteen-two vote, it was decided that we would go back outside. Only Bilbo and I had been for remaining in the tunnel. We preferred the darkness to risking the wrath of Smaug. However, we followed the dwarves as Thorin led the way out of the tunnel. The Company stood on the edge of the mountainside, looking out on the aftermath of Smaug's anger. Orange flames covered the surface of the small forest, and the air was smoky and thick with ash.
I coughed and covered my mouth and nose with my hands. "This was a bad idea."
"What was a bad idea?" asked Kíli.
"Pissing off a dragon." I shivered as a gust of wind brought a splattering of icy rain into the passageway. "He's going to roast us alive."
"What happened to being an optimist?" asked Thorin.
"It disappeared when I thought of being roasted alive."
"I don't think that's very optimistic of you," said Fíli, "to surrender your optimism so easily."
"Well," I said, "you imagine being burnt to a crisp by a dragon and we'll see how optimistic you are. I like to keep my flesh on my bones, thank you very much."
A sort of silence settled amongst the Company. The only dwarf that didn't look lost in his thoughts was Thorin, and he was glaring at me. Telling the Company to imagine their painful deaths in the fires of Smaug was probably not my finest moment.
Surprisingly, it was Kíli who broke the silence. "I will not be caught in the dragon's fire."
Everyone turned to stare at him.
Kíli shrugged. "That is the best way, is it not, to avoid being burnt to a crisp? Do not get caught at all."
There was a pause as the Company processed Kíli's simple thoughts. Then Dwalin let out a rumbling laugh. He pounded his chest with his right fist and let out a mighty, dwarf-roar. Soon, excited by Kíli's words, all the others dwarves joined in, stomping their feet and shouting in both Khuzdul and the common tongue.
"No dragon will defeat us!"
"We will turn him into a crisp!"
"Khazâd ai-mênu!"
"To the dwarves!"
Bilbo and I watched the dwarves' battle cries in silence. I think Bilbo was just as confused as I was as to what we should do. We were not warriors, and we were not dwarves. This was not our home. We had not suffered under the might of Smaug the way these dwarves had. Their anger was not ours, their strength was not ours, we could only watch and hope that the dwarves did not get carried away.
"I think Kíli is the true optimist," said Balin as he thumped me on the back, causing me to stumble forward.
As I regained my balance, I muttered, "Either that or he's really naïve."
"You're just jealous," said Fíli, holding my elbow to help me stand properly. "It is all right, though. We like you as you are."
"We came knowing that," said Thorin suddenly.
The dwarves stopped cheering and turned to stare at Thorin.
He was staring into the depths of the secret tunnel, and I could see that he was working his way up to one of his majestic speeches. However, in light of our recently conversation, I found that I couldn't appreciate his words as I once would have.
"We knew that we would have to face a dragon when we reached the Lonely Mountain," said Thorin. "We knew what Smaug was capable of when we took on this quest. It did not hinder us. We will take on this dragon, if we must, to reclaim our home. We chose this path, and we will not falter. We will walk forward with our heads held high. And when we come face to face with this monster, we will say, 'This is our home.' And through our own power, we will defeat him. For that is the choice we made."
Another cry of triumph rose amongst the dwarves.
Was it choice? The question came to me as I watched Thorin smile at the dwarves. Was it a choice or had Thorin done this out of duty? Duty to his father, his grandfather, his people.
But the dwarves looked so happy to be standing on the doorstep of their homeland, about to face the dragon that had devastated their people. Even Thorin looked excited, saying something in Khuzdul to his fellow dwarves. Perhaps I was wrong. After all, who was I to question what this quest meant? I was just someone passing through.
I elbowed Bilbo in the side, and whispered, "Doesn't Thorin look majestic when he's preparing to fight a dragon?"
Bilbo gave me an exasperated look. "Is this really the time, Ana?"
"Probably not," I said. "But I think we should acknowledge that all the dwarves look majestic. Except Kíli. Kíli can never be majestic."
Kíli broke off his chant and turned to ask me, "Why can I not be majestic?"
Thorin patted his nephew on the shoulder. "It is a burden you were destined to bear."
The chant died though the dwarves' weapons remained drawn and the fire still burned in their eyes.
"Thorin secretly enjoys the majesty, does he not?" observed Bilbo.
"It is all Ana's fault," said Glóin. "Thorin did not care about majesty until she showed up."
Thorin wisely decided not to comment on this. Instead, he sheathed his sword and asked the Company, "What is our next move?"
"Smaug has returned to his lair," said Balin. "We must draw him out again."
"We must consider the options," said Thorin. "Can we take back Erebor without drawing Smaug out?"
"We would have to kill him then," said Balin.
"How do we do that?" asked Dwalin.
"We have not figured that out yet," said Thorin.
"You don't know a lot of stuff," I said suddenly.
Thorin gave me a glare that I think was supposed to mean that I should shut up.
I didn't know it then, but Thorin had never really believed the Company would reach the Lonely Mountain until the dwarves actually stood at the door. Sure he had heard all the prophecies, and sure He knew all too well the dangers of Mirkwood and Misty Mountains. Some part of him figured that the dwarves would perish long before they reached Erebor. Thorin had never actually considered how they would deal with what was inside. But like I said, I did not know that then. I just thought Thorin was being extremely stupid.
"Smaug is difficult opponent," said Balin. "But he must have some weakness."
"What will drawing him out accomplish?" asked Thorin.
"We must discover his weakness," said Dwalin.
"But how will we do that?" asked Fíli.
"I can try," said Bilbo.
We all turned to stare at the little hobbit. He shifted uncomfortably under everyone's stare. His hands fiddled with the hem of his jacket. "I am the burglar, am I not?" he said. "Perhaps I can talk to him."
Thorin hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "You did draw Smaug out earlier. Perhaps you can anger him into revealing his weakness."
"Don't rely on your birthday present too much," I said.
Thorin sighed. After just telling him that I was trying to do a better job of keeping secrets, I had talked about the Ring again.
"Birthday present?" asked Balin.
"I will depart now," said Bilbo before I could come up with another bullshit explanation. He made a show of turning around and walking away down the tunnel. He shot me a don't-you-dare-tell-anyone-about-the-birthday-present glares before he disappeared into the darkness. I figured it was for the best that he didn't know that Thorin was already aware of the birthday present's existence, though Thorin only knew that it made Bilbo invisible, not that it was the One Ring.
"There goes a brave little hobbit," I said. "Much braver than me." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fíli and Kíli nodding in agreement.
"What is his birthday present?" asked Balin after a moment.
I blinked. "His what?"
"His birthday present."
"His birthday?"
Balin was starting to get red in the face. "You mentioned Bilbo's birthday present, but you will not explain what it is!"
"She will not answer if she does not wish to," said Thorin. "Balin, you should be glad that she has not sidetracked the conversation to talk about how you should know the birthday of every member of the Company."
I grinned. "That's not a bad idea. I should try that next time."
Thorin looked as though he deeply regretted saying anything. However, his words did indeed stop Balin from asking me anymore questions. The old dwarf bowed his head and then moved to sit on the grassy slope. The other dwarves dispersed as well.
There was none of the excitement among them as there had been when they waited for Bilbo the first time. The forest still burned though most of the flames had been put out by the steady drizzle of rain that came from the cloudy sky above. The dwarves now knew that the dragon waited for them in the depths of the mountain, and he was not an amiable dragon.
Thorin stayed in the shelter of the secret passage, avoiding the rain; however, the rest of the dwarves scattered about the slope, using the branches of the forest, untouched by flame, as cover. Bombur, Nori, Dori, and Ori were huddled together, their eyes heavy with exhaustion. Balin and Dwalin remained standing, whispering to one another in Khuzdul, while Óin and Glóin sat at their feet, discussing ways to kill a dragon. Bofur seemed more worried about making certain everyone was warm, and he started distributing wool blankets from the packs. His cousin Bifur helped, silently smiling at his fellow dwarves as he handed over blankets. I settled in the roots of an tree next to Fíli and Kíli. I had no blanket since I had not been in Laketown with them, so Fili shared his with me.
"Well," I said, "your uncle sure knows how to pick his vacation destination."
Fíli's mouth quirked up into a smile. "I wanted to travel south, see the grasslands of Rohan. They should see sunshine this time of year."
"Yeah, you should visit Rohan while you," I said. "You never know when something evil will take up residence in Mordor and make life difficult for everyone."
Fíli and Kíli stared at me, blank expressions on the their faces.
"Is this one of those times where we are supposed to pretend like we did not hear you?" asked Kíli.
"Yes, yes, it is." I leaned back against the tree trunk. Thorin still stood at the entrance to the secret passage. His arms were folded across his chest as he glared out over the forest. It must be a big burden to know that there's an entire prophecy about you. "So what's all this prophecy stuff about?"
"The prophecy?" asked Kíli. "The one about the king beneath the mountains?"
"Is that the one?" I looked at the two brothers. "The one about Thorin returning to Erebor?"
Fíli nodded. "Every dwarf of the Lonely Mountain knows that song."
"I don't know it," I said.
"You are not a dwarf," pointed out Kíli.
"Neither are you."
Fíli hid a smile and he might have whispered something about "hairless rats" to his little brother, making Kíli scowl.
"Can you sing it for me?" I asked.
"It is raining outside," grumbled Fili. "And there is a dragon inside that mountain that wishes all dwarves dead. Is this truly the time for singing?"
"What else are we going to do while we wait for Bilbo?" I asked.
I stared over at the brothers with wide, pleading eyes. Fíli and Kíli looked at one another, and then they started to sing. Fíli started, setting the rhythm, and then during the second line, Kíli joined in. Together, the brothers sang:
"The King beneath the mountains,
The King of carven stone,
The lord of silver fountains
Shall come into his own.
His crown shall be upholden,
His harp shall be restrung,
His halls shall echo golden
To songs of yore re-sung.
The woods shall wave on mountains
And grass beneath the sun;
His wealth shall flow in fountains
And the rivers golden run.
The streams shall run in gladness,
The lakes shall shine and burn,
All sorrow fail and sadness
At the Mountain-king's return."
The other dwarves had joined in as the song continued their deep voices adding an almost sorrowful tone to the song. Only Thorin, standing by the entrance to the secret tunnel, did not sing. That was disappointing, but I suppose it must be strange to sing a song about oneself, especially a song that prophesizes one's return as a king.
"'The lake shall shine and burn'?" I asked. "That doesn't sound very cheerful."
"It is an expression of speech," said Dori. "The prophecy does not literally mean that the lake will burn."
I frowned. I still remembered running through the streets of Dale as the buildings around me burned and the desperate people tried to sacrifice me to the dragon. I didn't like the people of Dale, but certainly no one deserved a fate like that.
After thanking Fíli for sharing his blanket, I got to my feet and made my way across the clearing to stand by Thorin.
"Hey, mister king of carven stone," I said, talking a seat on a flat rock at the entrance of the tunnel. "Do you know how sad I was that you didn't sing?"
"You will survive, I am certain," said Thorin.
We sat in silence for a moment watching the other dwarves debate the best way to kill a dragon. Dwalin, Óin and Glóin believed cutting the head off was the only way to get rid of a dragon permanently, while Dori, Bofur, and Bifur believed that drowning the dragon in molten gold was the only way.
"You really don't have much of a plan for this while defeat-Smaug thing," I observed.
Thorin offered me a grim smile. "Can you not bother someone else for a change?"
"Just curious," I said. "This whole quest was Gandalf's idea, right? But he didn't plan on traveling with you past the Misty Mountains. Did he not tell you that? Did you think he knew how to defeat Smaug?"
"No," said Thorin. "I knew Gandalf would leave us after we crossed the Misty Mountains." He glanced over his shoulder, making certain that we were far enough away from the rest of the Company. "I was not certain that we would even make it this far."
"So you had no plan?" I asked, incredulously. "You thought you would die before reaching the Lonely Mountain?"
Thorin nodded once. "I had my doubts. I at least thought we would never arrive in time for the last light of Durin's Day."
"But you've heard the prophecy before," I said. "You're the lord of silver fountains, the king of carven stone, right?" I gasped. "Unless you've been lying to me all this time and you're not who you say you are. If Kíli is really the lord of silver fountains, so help me, I will shave off your beard."
"The song refers to me," said Thorin with a scathing glare in my direction. "But you will have believe me when I say that I do not put all my faith in prophecies. Prophets may have glimpses of the future, but they do not know all there is to be known."
"Well," I said, "you're at the door to the mountain now. What do you plan to do?"
"Use you as bait," said Thorin.
He said it with such a straight face that, for a second, I believed him. I leapt up from set and raised my hands in front of my face, crying, "Don't even think about it! I'm not a witch!"
His eyebrows lifted. "Did I suggest you were a witch?"
"I'm very sensitive about that word." I peered at him from behind my hands, and then when I realized he had no intention of sacrificing me or using me as bait, I lowered them. "I almost got roasted alive because some idiots thought I was a witch. Just because I appear and disappear does not make me a witch. I can't apparate!"
"What does apparate mean?" asked Ori.
I looked over to see that the rest of the dwarves, after seeing my dramatic reaction to being dragon-bit, had moved up the slope to hear what Thorin and I were talking about.
"Uh, well." I scratched the back of my head. "It's a think witches do where they disappear in one place and then appear in another."
The dwarves frowned, and Dori asked, "Is that not what you do?"
"No, no." I shook my head. "Witches know where they're going to appear next whereas I have no frigging clue."
"Well," said Balin, "if Ana was a witch, she would have more use to us, beyond just providing good entertainment on the road."
The other dwarves nodded in agreement, and I couldn't decide if I should be flattered or insulted. In the end, I settled for just being glad that the Company didn't think me a witch.
"So," I said, settling back down on my flat rock, "does anyone have an suggestions on how to defeat Smaug?"
"Behead him while he sleeps," offered Glóin.
"Drown him in gold," added Bofur.
"Smaug!"
"Yes," said Balin with an impatient frown. "That is what we are discussing."
"Smaug is coming!"
For the first time, the Company realized that it was not any of them speaking, but that Bilbo's shrill voice came from the depths of the secret passage. At first, we could only hear Bilbo—the patter of his feet on the stone floor, the panting of his disappearing breath, the shouts drenched in petrified panic. And then, out of the shadows, the figure of Bilbo appeared in the doorway.
He came to a halt, gasping and wheezing. "Smaug." Heh ad to stop for a second to catch his breath before trying again. "Smaug was…pretending to sleep. I managed…to talk to him. He revealed…his weakness. A scale… He is missing a scale. Shoot him…there. And…he will…die. But Smaug…is angry…now. He is coming."
"Coming?" asked Ori.
Bilbo didn't need to answer. There was deep howl that cut through the rain and the thunder and filled the tunnel entrance in which we stood. Eyes wide, we all turned to stare up at the dark sky. Lightning flashed across the clouds, and for a heartbeat, the dark form of a dragon illuminated overhead. Smaug had left the mountain.
"Does he know where we are?" asked Thorin. "Does he know about the secret passage?"
"I do not think so," said Bilbo.
"Thinking so is not exactly helpful," muttered Thorin.
Another roar. Smaug was angry. There was a flash of thunder. A deep rumbling sound. The sound, I realized, came from neither the dragon nor the weather. It was a deep, rolling sound that kept on going and going. The tunnel was still. We all listened cautiously, trying to figure out what the sound was.
And then, Óin realized. "Avalanche!"
He realized at the last second. The Company through themselves into the depths of the secret passage just as boulders and rocks, knocked loose by Smaug, smashed into the doorway. The side of the mountain collapsed. I screamed. The dwarves scurried backward. Darkness. Falling rocks. A heavy weight. Shouting voices. Something struck my shoulder. Everything had gone pitch black.
I Skipped.