PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter LXVIII: Dwarrows Crossing

Have you ever heard of the Enchanted River? And no, this isn't yet another one of my rants about unoriginal naming. I'm talking about Enchanted River in Mirkwood, which the Skip decided my next adventure should take place.

Its waters were pitch black and moved through the forest floor like a rippling sheet. The banks were just wide enough so that no one can jump across, and the waters were just deep enough so that no one can wade through them. Even the trees and plants of Mirkwood shied away from the dark waters, the branches reaching outward as if struggling to escape. The riverbanks were browned and dry. The ground crackled beneath my feet as I stood on the shore and looked out over the dark waters.

There was boat in the water. Its wood was the same inky black as the river—which would explain why I didn't see it right away. The boat was small, just enough to fit two men/elves or three dwarves or four hobbits (sizes must be adjusted according to who we're talking about). If we mixed it up a little, I suppose we could fit one man and one dwarf, or we could do one elf and two hobbits. I would say you could fit one elf and one dwarf, but I think a fight would break out and the boat would capsize. And, as anyone with half a brain would have figured out from the dark waters, nothing good would come from capsizing in the Enchanted River.

I stared down at the tossing black water. I didn't know why the Skip had decided to dump me on the shore of an evil-looking river. If it wanted me to cross the river, then the Skip didn't know me at all.

"Well," I said, turning away from the dark waters. "Nice meeting you, river. It's been fun, but I really must be going n—"

"What is this accursed place?"

At the sound of a familiar voice, I turned and peered through the trees. However, I couldn't find Dwalin's sturdy face or magnificent beard through the dense trees.

Then, I heard Balin answer, "This must be the Enchanted River that we were warned against."

I frowned, scanning the tree line. It sounded as though the dwarrows were on the same side of the river as me. They had to be somewhere. Their voices couldn't be floating, severed from their bodies… Or could they? This was Mirkwood. And, well, some crazy shit happened in Mirkwood.

"Do not touch the water." It was Thorin's voice this time. "If you do, it will cast you into a long, deep sleep."

I searched desperately. I wanted to see Thorin. God knows how much I needed to see him—and the rest of the Company—after everything I'd been through in the last few days.

"Why do you look so accusingly at me?" asked Bombur indignantly.

"There is a boat!" cried Bilbo before any of the dwarrows could respond.

I glanced at the little boat, swaying from side to side in the water. Bilbo had to be talking about this boat. How many boats could there be on the Enchanted River? It was a river specifically designed not to let people cross. I turned in the direction of Bilbo's voice, scanning along the riverbank. There, sure enough, between two crooked, stooped trees, stood the hobbit.

He was staring at me too, blinking as if he'd only just realized I was there. Recovering his senses, he asked, "When did you arrive?"

"Bilbo!" I was just so happy to finally see one of the Company, that I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him into a fierce hug. "You're here! You're really here!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Bilbo. He patted me on the back awkwardly.

"Ana, do cease attacking our burglar. We have need of him yet," said the unmistakable voice of Thorin.

I released Bilbo and turned to see that the rest of the Company had gathered on the shore. Some of the dwarves looked surprised by my sudden appearance. The others looked as though they half expected it. Not that I could blame them. I half expected a second me to show up with all the Skipping I'd been doing recently.

"How have you been?" I asked. "Back in Mirkwood, I see."

"Were we not in Mirkwood?" asked Ori. He looked at the other dwarrows as if hoping they might have the answer.

"You were, uh, somewhere else." I really had to learn to watch my tongue. "Much happier circumstances. There wasn't an evil river behind us then."

"In front of us," corrected Thorin. "For across that river lies our path."

I looked over my shoulder at the rippling black waters and the rickety boat that I wouldn't trust as far as I could throw it. Then, I turned back to Thorin with a sigh. "Of course it is."

"How are we going to cross the river?" asked Nori.

"We will use the boat," said Bilbo. He had already started walking down to the water's edge.

"It does not look completely trustworthy," said Dori.

I nodded in agreement. Every time the boat swayed uneasily, I felt myself grow a little faint. All it took was one wrong rock of the boat, and the Company would topple into the churning waters. From the sounds of it, one drop would send one into a deep sleep. And sleeping in a river seemed like a surest way to drown.

"We can cross about three at a time," said Balin, who apparently didn't share my fears.

"Or four at a time if you're all hobbits," I said.

Bilbo shook his head and smiled weakly at me. "Sometimes I find myself wondering what goes through your mind. Then, I realize that it is probably best for me that I do not know."

I blinked, sorting through what Bilbo had just said. "Hey…did I just get dissed by Bilbo Baggins?"

"What is 'dissed'?" asked Kíli.

"Yes," said Glóin, who'd obviously guessed the meaning. "Yes, you did."

"I have never seen anyone so pitiful," said Fíli. "You may have surpassed Kíli."

The other, more responsible dwarrows were busy ignoring me and dealing with the issue of the boat. Balin and Thorin debated how many dwarrows the boat could safely transport. While they talked, Bilbo found a frayed rope that connected the end of the boat to the trunk of a purple-brown tree. Dwalin pulled on the rope, and the boat slid through the black waters until it bumped against the shore.

"Who shall go first?" asked Dwalin. The muscles in his arms bulged as he held the boat in place so that the waters could not pull it away.

Óin and Glóin exchanged nervous glances, while Dori and Nori shifted from side to side, not making eye contact. They'd agreed with the plan until it was actually time to cross the river.

"I will," said Thorin.

Immediately, the other dwarrows' hesitation vanished, and Kíli and Dori followed their king. Thorin spared nothing more than a condescending glance at the enchanted water before he stepped into the boat and settled into seat farthest from the shore.

The method to get across the river was simple. Dwalin would slowly let out the rope and the boat would drift away from the shore. Balin had found a long stick, and the dwarrows would use that to help guide the boat across. The process was easy enough, and after Thorin, Kíli, and Dori had exited the boat without touching the pitch-black water, Dwalin pulled the boat back to our side of the river for the next load of dwarrows to board.

Fíli, Bifur, and Balin crossed and after them, Óin, Glóin, and Bofur. Each time Dwalin pulled the boat back over the water, the apprehension in my chest grew. The black surface rippled and trembled under the smooth movements of the boat. Yet no matter how easy and graceful the boat seemed, I could only feel a sense of growing dread. The boat was not to be trusted. Nothing about the Enchanted River was to be trusted.

I watched as Ori, Nori, and Bilbo drifted to the other side. Bilbo looked petrified, his little hands clutching the sides of the boat so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Ori was taking deep, claiming breaths, while Nori kept looking left and right, twitching like a caged animal.

"You know," I said to no one in particular, "I don't have to cross the river. I could just stay here and not get in the boat. Eventually I'll just Skip away."

Dwalin gave me an irritated glance but didn't say anything since he was preoccupied with pulled the boat back across the water.

"I do not get along well with boats," grumbled Bombur.

"I don't get along well with boats on enchanted rivers," I said. "There's something about the whole 'enchanted' part that gives me goosebumps."

Bombur nodded, a movement that cause all his layers of fat to jiggle back and forth. "Boats do not agree with hefty dwarves."

"Agreed." And then, with creeping horror, I realized that the way things had worked out, I would have to cross on the boat with Bombur. So this was the punishment for my cowardice.

The boat reached us, and Dwalin placed one foot in the bottom of the boat to hold it in place. "Your turn."

I glanced at the little boat and then back at Dwalin. "Oh Dwalin of the long and magnificent beard—have I mentioned it is one of the most magnificent beards I have ever seen?—is it really necessary for me to cross the river? I mean, I'd rather not risk falling into an eternal sleep. I wouldn't put it past the Skip to dump me in the middle of a battle while I was in an enchanted sleep… Have I mentioned how amazing your beard is?"

Dwalin stared at me for a moment, stroking his thick beard. Bombur moved to get into the boat, but Dwalin stopped him.

"Hold it in place," grunted Dwalin, shoving the rope into Bombur's hand.

Bombur looked confused, but he did as commanded and held on so that the boat didn't drift away. Then, Dwalin walked towards me.

"What are you doing?" Even though I asked, I honestly didn't have to think too much to know what Dwalin planned to do. "Don't you dare put me in that boat, mister, or I will unleash the Sword Breaker on you."

A slow grin spread across Dwalin's usually grim face, and he said, "I wield an axe."

"What?"

He scooped me from the ground and slung me over his shoulder.

I shrieked. "Stop! Stop! Stop! I'll walk! Just don't carry me! This is no way to approach enchanted water! I'll walk!"

Dwalin dropped me into the boat. It rocked from side to side, dangerously close to tipping. I yelped and buried my face in my hands. "Dwalin, I take back what I said about your beard! It's only so-so!"

Bombur moved into the boat after me. This time, I'm not exaggerating when I say that the boat rocked unsteadily under Bombur's massive weight and sank deeper into the water. I squeaked. If I'd been smart, I would've crossed with Bilbo and Ori. But no, I'd had to wait until the end, and now I was crossing on the most dangerous ride of all.

Dwalin, still holding the rope, sat down at the other end of the boat. He glanced at me and let out a distinct "hmph" of annoyance. Of the three of us, Dwalin was the clear victim. He had taken on the job of handling the rope, and now he had to ride across with heavy Bombur and panicked me. It was a recipe for disaster. However, Dwalin remained calm as he let the rope out a bit as a time.

We slowly drifted to the other side of the river. I couldn't see all too well with my hands still covering my face, but I peeked through my fingers at the other side of the river where the other dwarrows watched us apprehensively. Glóin and Óin had taken up the job of holding the stick to guide us, while Ori bounced on the balls of his feet. Fíli smiled encouragingly when he caught my eye. I tried to smile back, but Bombur shifted in his seat, causing the boat to sway from side to side, and I wrenched my eyes shut again. Finally, after what felt like an eternal journey, the boat bumped against the shore.

Immediately, my heart felt lighter. I sat up in the boat and smiled. "I'm alive. And awake."

"Of course you are," said Thorin dryly. "How long do you intend to sit there?"

Not wanting to stay on the water a moment longer, I got to my feet, preparing to hop onto the shore. Unfortunately, I moved at the same time as Bombur.

The boat rocked beneath us. I lost my balance, and my legs banged against the side of the boat. With a shriek, I tumbled forward, heading towards the pitching waters of the river.

I've never said these words before, but thank God for Bifur. He may not be one for conversation, but he is my hero. Inches from touching the water, I was caught by Bifur, and he pulled me onto the shore. The brittle leaves crunched beneath my hands and knees as I landed on the ground. Groaning, I rolled onto my back to see what had happened to the boat.

Somehow, Dwalin had managed to remain standing in the wildly rocking boat. I smiled weakly at him as he stepped onto the shore. He didn't return my smile. Around us, shouts filled the riverbank.

"Bombur! Bombur!"

"Open your eyes, Bombur!"

"Do not fall asleep on us!"

No wonder Dwalin wasn't smiling. I turned to see the dwarrows clustered around the body of Bombur. From what I could gather, Bombur had tried to jump to shore but had missed and stepped in the water. Almost instantly, he had fallen asleep, his body collapsing on itself and almost squishing poor Ori as it fell.

"He will not wake," said Balin grimly.

Fíli groaned. "It could not have been someone…lighter?"

"Why could Ana not have fallen into the water?" asked Kíli. "I could carry her on my back and continue our journey."

I, for one, was very glad that I hadn't fallen in, but I appreciated Kíli calling me light.

"Do not be so pleased," said Thorin, reading the expression on my face. "Any one of us would be lighter than Bombur."

"Do you have to ruin everything?" I asked. "Can't I have one moment to enjoy a compliment?"

A faint smile crossed his face, but before I could ask what that was about, he turned his attentions to the unconscious Bombur. Bofur, Ori, and Óin were still crowded around the dwarf, trying in vain to revive him.

"We must continue onward," said Thorin. "We do not have much time before Durin's Day and the opening of the door. We cannot afford delay."

"Do you propose we leave Bombur?" asked Dori incredulously.

"Of course not," said Thorin. His mouth thinned to a grim line. "We will carry him."

Groans rose up among the dwarrows. They'd all known what was going to happen the moment Bombur had fallen into the Enchanted River, but still, they had hoped.

In case you haven't figure it out, what Thorin meant by "we will carry him" is that everyone else would carry Bombur on their backs while Thorin led the way through Mirkwood. The rest of the Company—and me, weak and pitiful as I was—lifted Bombur above our heads.

"Look at Thorin," I said, glaring at the proud dwarf walking in the front of the group. "He's too majestic to do some grunt work."

Glóin looked scandalized at the idea of their king doing the heavy lifting.

"Someone must lead us through Mirkwood," said Dori from somewhere behind me.

That made me laugh. "Why are we letting the directionally challenged dwarf lead us?"

"I am not 'directionally challenged'," said Thorin loudly. He didn't even look back as he talked.

"Who was three hours late to the meeting at Bag End?" I asked.

"I had journeyed for many days from a meeting with our kinfolk in the Iron Hills. I arrived as soon as the roads allowed."

I scoffed. "I was an hour early and I wasn't even meant to be there. What does that say about you?"

Thorin ignored me. However, from behind me, Bilbo said, "Majesty is never late. Nor is majesty early. Majesty arrives precisely when majesty means to."

It took me a second to process what he'd just said. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Bilbo smiling at me mischievously.

"If we weren't carrying an unconscious dwarf right now, I would hug you," I declared.

"You have been talking to Gandalf far too much," said Fíli. "The wizard has worn off on you."

"You will live to regret those words, Bilbo," said Thorin.

"Don't question it!" I cried. "Bilbo has finally converted to the majestic fanclub! Don't scare him away!" I glanced over my shoulder at Bilbo. "I finally have a fellow majestic Thorin fan—we should make t-shirts and merchandise, like little Thorin bobbleheads or something!"

In a small voice, Bilbo asked, "What have I done?"