PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

LXXVII: The Hunt For Thorin

The battle at the Black Gate was truly a last, desperate attempt. The size of army of men in comparison to the size of Sauron's army was laughable. As I stood in the middle of the battlefield, I couldn't see the overwhelming difference in numbers, but I could feel it. I was surrounded by orcs. I couldn't see any men clad in Gondor armor nor any of the Rohirrim. It was me, Merry, and Pippin alone amongst massive orcs. (Though, in case you haven't noticed, none of us are particularly impressive in the height department, so when I say they were "massive", they were probably average size for orcs.)

Despite their small statures, Merry and Pippin were significantly better at sword fighting than me. They'd both improved a lot since the Fellowship first departed from Rivendell. I remembered their clumsy movements on the road as Boromir and Aragorn taught them how to fight. Now they moved nimbly, using their light, hobbit feet to give them an advantage over the orcs.

I, on the other hand, used the Sword Breaker as best I could. Any time I saw a blade flying in my direction, I threw up the Sword Breaker in an attempt to catch the weapon between its teeth. My arms ached from catching numerous blows, and I kept waiting for the Skip to take me away. It wasn't until the knife of one of the orcs caught my right shoulder that I remembered that the Senturiel was no longer inside me, and I would have to choose when to Skip away from the battle.

When it was my choice, it suddenly became harder to Skip away. It felt cowardly to abandon my friends to the battlefield simply to save my own life. They could not run away in the blink of an eye, so why should I have the power to?

This was easier to think when we were winning the battle, of course. Even with our fighting abilities combined, however, we were being overwhelmed by the orcs. One of them managed to slice open Pippin's cheek. Another got Merry's forearm. One kicked me in the stomach, causing me to bend over, gasping for breath.

"Not fair," I coughed. "I just had surgery there…"

"Do not talk! Fight!" shouted Merry right before an orc punched him in the side of the head.

"Merry!" I cried. Another orc lunged at me, and it was only by the purest luck that I managed to dodge his sword. My left hand flew to my locket and now seemed like a good time to flee. But…how could I leave the hobbits?

"Merry! Pippin!"

I was incredible happy to see the world's blondest elf join the fray. His flimsy bow had been put away, and he was fighting with knives at close range. He leapt through the orcs and managed to come to our rescue. Well, he came to rescue Merry and Pippin—I just happened to be there.

"Legolas," I said, greeting with our customary disgust.

"Ana," he said before driving a knife through the orc's skull.

I disarmed an orc with the Sword Breaker, and Pippin stabbed the swordless orc in the stomach. I leapt backwards to avoid the orc's crumpling body.

"Did I tell you, Legolas," I said, ducking under an orc's axe, "that I'm one-quarter dwarf?"

Legolas paused briefly before beheading an orc. "I do not believe you."

"It's true," I said. "My grandfather was a dwarf of the Misty Mountains, and he scandalously married a human woman in Bree. My dad told me the whole story."

"One-quarter dwarf." Legolas gutted an orc with his knives before continuing. "It does explain your poor taste."

"I have excellent taste," I said. "But it explains so much, doesn't it? My shortness and that allergic reaction I get to you. I swear, every time I see you, I break out in hives."

"Hives?" asked Merry, dodging an orc's sword.

"These little red rashes on my arms."

Legolas looked offended, but any response he might have made was interrupted by an orc wielding in a mace. A wave of orcs pressed upon us and all conversation came to an end as we struggled to keep them at bay. I would have been skewed at least three times over if Legolas hadn't been looking after me. His brow was creased with the effort of trying to keep both me and himself safe from the blades of orcs.

Perhaps they were better off without me. All I was doing was forcing my friends to protect me. If the Senturiel had still been inside of me, it would have taken me far away by now. As I dodged another orc's sword, I reached for the locket around my neck…

I felt the fire burning in the distance. It was far away, on the other side of the Blake Gate on top of a black tower, and yet I could still feel its scalding heat. My skin broke out into a heavy sweat and I felt tears well up in my eyes as if they had been flecked with sizzling embers. The gaze of the Eye was burdensome, and it weighed heavily upon me. He had seen me, I realized. The Necromancer—no, he was called Sauron in this time. He had found the Senturiel again.

"Look out!"

Merry leapt between me and an orc. He drove his sword into the orc's stomach at the same time the orc's blade sliced open his forearm. Merry let out a small cry of pain.

I barely noticed the battle raging around me. My breath coming in quick, raspy gasps as I felt the weight of the Eye. Then, I heard the shrill scream of a fell beast from the sky. The Witch-King was gone, I knew that, but that did not mean the other nazgûl could not hunt me.

Get away, I had to get away.

Skip.

"Filthy girl has comesies, Precious. What should we do, Precious?"

I felt a wave of sweltering heat before I opened my eyes. I didn't have to see to know that I was once again on the slopes of Mount Doom. I was standing behind a massive boulder and, kneeling on the ground next to me, was the slimy, filthy Gollum. His blood-shot yellow eyes were shaking as he gaze upon me. His sharp teeth gnashing together as he tried to figure out what to do with me. As I stared at him—that pathetic creature—all the fear drained out of me and I was filled with a sense of hate. Loathing, more like. This pitiful creature had killed them. Frodo and Sam. All for that stupid Ring. And here he was, sitting on the slopes of Mount Doom beside me.

"She has it coming, Precious. Yes, yes, yes she does."

"Shut up," I said. I glared at the locket around my neck. "Why can't we get along?"

And then Gollum tried to strangle me.

He was strong for a gaunt, bony thing. His hands closed around my neck like iron and, no matter how much I tried to squirm, I couldn't break his grasp. I choked and coughed and hacked and wheezed, but Gollum wouldn't let go. Finally, I managed to swing my arm up and scratch the side of his head with my fingernails. Gollum let out a high-pitched scream and scampered backwards. I crawled away from him, taking deep, shattering breaths.

"You little shit!" I cried and then coughed.

"She hurts us!" Gollum leapt at me again. I kicked him in the stomach, and he fell to the ground. He immediately tried to lunge at me again, but I pointed the Sword Breaker at him and he cowered away from me.

We stayed there for a minute. Me sitting with my legs extended in front of me, my blade pointed forward, and Gollum lying on his stomach, watching me through venomous eyes.

And then, a familiar voice but through the hot air of Mount Doom. "We are almost there, Mister Frodo."

Sam's voice brought with it a sudden realization. I had not landed in time after Gollum had killed Frodo and Sam but before. Gollum had been stalking Frodo and Sam when I appeared out of nowhere. That's why he attacked me. He thought I was going to alert Frodo and Sam to his presence.

"You!" I cried. I raised the Sword Breaker as I started to get to my feet. Gollum saw the blade flash and he scampered away. I leapt forward and caught him by the neck, yanking him backwards. He slammed into me. I lost my footing and we rolled down the slope of the mountain. My back slammed into a rock, bring us to a sudden, painful halt.

I opened my eyes. It took a moment for the world to come back into focus, and then I saw Sam, with Frodo on his back, staring at Gollum and me with open-mouthed shock.

"Run!" I screamed just as Gollum reached for my neck to strangle me again.

Frodo slid off of Sam's back, and Sam started sprinting up the slope. Frodo remained still. He watched with glassy eyes as Gollum and I tried to gouge each other's eyes out. Gollum's nails scraped across my cheek, leaving a bloody gash. I swung my fist and made contact with his right eye.

"Master Frodo!" cried Sam, turning around and seeing that his friend had not moved. "Frodo!"

"He is still here," said Frodo.

His chilled tone sent shivers up my spine. I tried to wrestle away from Gollum, but Gollum grabbed my shoulder and attempted to bite me. I swung my hand up and whacked him in the throat in a desperate attempt to protect my shoulder from his jagged teeth.

"Master Frodo!" cried Sam. "What are you doing?"

"He's going to eat me! Frodo!" I screamed, hitting Gollum in the head again. "Destroy it before he eats me!"

Frodo reached up and touched the golden ring dangling from his neck.

"What are you doing?" repeated Sam.

Frodo moved slowly. With ease. As though time no longer had any hold over him. It was a frightening thing. To not care was a frightening thing. He turned towards Sam and said, softly, "It is mine." He slid the Ring onto his finger and disappeared from view.

"No!"

Had we failed? Had Frodo succumbed to the Ring before we'd reached Mount Doom? But I'd seen them higher up the mountain before. As I shoved Gollum's face away from me, I stared up the mountain slope. I'd seen them almost to the entrance of Orodruin. But that had been on a different path…

I could feel the Eye burning behind me. I could feel the suffocating weight around me. The great, red eye was suddenly, painfully aware of the Ring's presence. It saw us. It knew where we were. It was watching. Frodo, who wore the Ring—it could see him too. Even if we couldn't, the Eye could. Sauron knew where the Ring was and he wanted it.

Gollum had finally stopped trying to bite me. We were sprawled on the ground, at first holding each other away, but as the intensity of the Eye grew, I realized we were holding onto each other for support. Terror caused tremors in all of us. Sam had turned a pure white and tears left tracks down his grimy face.

"Master Frodo…" Sam choked on his words. "Stop. This is not you. This is the Ring. The Ring. Not you. Mister Frodo, do not let it control you. Mister Frodo?"

Whether Frodo would overcome the Ring or not, we would never find out. Shadows descended upon us. Accompanied with the scream of a fell beast, the nazgûl flew down from the dark sky.

The fell beast's cry was painful. My body contorted on its own as I squirmed around, trying to escape the agony. I covered my ears. The pain would not stop. It felt as though my head would burst to pieces. My vision blurred and black spots appeared at the edges. Even then, I watched as the wraith landed and drew his sword. I tried to cry out a warning, The nazgûl's sword penetrated the air, but I knew without seeing that the wraith had found its target.

I reached for the Senturiel.

Skip.

"God damn it, why can't I save them?" I buried my face in my hands and tried to take deep breath. I needed to be calm. They had died again, but I could save them. I had seen them almost to the mouth of Orodruin. There was a way to save them from death at the hands of Gollum or the nazgûl. I knew what I needed to do. I just needed to find Thorin. If I could just ask him what the rest of the prophecy said… I had my suspicions but I wanted them confirmed. I wanted to know that I was right before I let Thorin…

I lifted my head from my hands and saw that I was in the Houses of Healing once more. Actually, I was sitting at the base of a pillar in a marble courtyard outside the Houses of Healing. The courtyard was empty except for me and two lovers standing at the edge of the courtyard, overlooking the city. They were wrapped in each other's arms, their sorrowful backs to me and their faces turned towards the red sky over Mordor.

I wiped some sweat from my forehead and took a deep breath. I could save Frodo and Sam. I just had to focus. I couldn't get sidetracked. I had things to do. If only I could get the Senturiel to cooperate with me.

I tried my best to smile before getting to my feet and taking a step towards the lovers. "Sorry for interrupting your date. I'm just passing through."

The lovers turned around and I recognized them as Faramir and Éowyn.

"Oh frig," I said. "I should have known it was the two of you. I saw your relationship coming from a mile away, by the way. And if anyone asks, I set you two up."

Faramir and Éowyn frowned. They exchanged bemused glances before Éowyn said, "How can you be responsible? You were not present for our introduction."

"I set you up," I said. "I want credit for someone's romance and I'm claiming yours. No questions asked."

Éowyn opened her mouth to protest, but Faramir rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Agree with her now and it will save you the headache," he said.

Éowyn managed a soft smile before turning back to me. "What are you doing here, Ana? I thought you had left."

"I changed my mind," I said, cheerfully. "I missed my Faramir and you too much and I had to come back."

She gave me a skeptical look before saying, "The others have already departed."

"To the Black Gate," I said. "I know, I was just there."

Looking at Faramir's strong brow and long nose reminded me of his brother. They really did look alike. But thinking of Boromir made me think of his death which in turn made me think of the reason Boromir had to die which made me think of one of the reasons Thorin had to die which reminded me that I needed to find Thorin.

"If only the stupid Senturiel would cooperate," I said.

Faramir and Éowyn were taken aback by my sudden outburst. I suppose anyone would be surprised to see me suddenly start snapping at the locket around my neck.

"The Senturiel?" asked Faramir.

"Sorry. No time to explain," I said. "I have to go. But I do think you two are a cute couple, and I'm glad I decided to introduce you."

"You did not introduce us," said Faramir.

I grinned at him as I opened the locket.

Skip.

"THORIN!"
The tavern went very quiet. Men stopped in the middle of their conversations, ales halfway to their lips. They turned and stared at me, their eyes narrowed confusion.

I looked around the bar but saw no dwarves. Especially no majestic ones.

"Wrong place," I said.

Skip.

"THORIN!"

No answer. The trees of Lothlórien remained silent. I shivered underneath then and glared reproachfully at the tree tops where I was certain some elves were watching me and trying to figure out where I had come from.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm going. I'm going."

Skip.

"THORIN!"

Nope.

Skip.

"THORIN!"

Nope.

Skip.

"THOR—AAAAAAAAH!"

Skip.

"THORIN!"

Nope.

"Why won't you take me to him? What are you so afraid of, you stupid rock?"

Skip.

"THORIN!"

"Ana, shut up."

I stopped just as I was reaching for my locket again. I stared. Finally. There he was. In all his majesty. Thorin. My Thorin. With his dark beard and his blue eyes and his fur coat and his silver armor and his travel-worn boots and his elvish sword—it really was Thorin.

You'll be proud to know that, after all that Skipping, I didn't cry at the sight of Thorin. Though, I did fling my arms around his shoulder in a tight embrace.

He immediately pushed me away. "We are in the middle of a battlefield, Ana."

And, to prove his point, he shoved me out of the way and drove Orcrist through the neck of a Gundabad orc.

"But I found you!" I cried, drawing the Sword Breaker and dodging the blade of an orc. Thorin cut down the orc before it could lift its blade again. I grinned at him and said, "I've been looking for you everywhere. I went to Lothlórien and to an elven party where I almost got trampled by a moose and I went to Mirkwood with these two spiders…"

But Thorin wasn't listening to me. He was busy fight orcs and wargs and trying to stay alive as the Battle of the Five Armies raged around him.

"Thorin!" I cried. "Wait! We have to talk about how—"

A chill ran down my spine and my clothes rustled in the icy wind. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I spun around and found myself face to face with a figure hooded in black. I couldn't see his face until the morning sunlight, but in the chill of my bones, I knew who faced me.

The scream died in my throat.

Thorin shouted something unintelligible behind me.

The Witch-King reached for the locket.

My hand grabbed it and wrenched the clasp open.

I felt the icy fingers touch my exposed hand.

Skip.