Hello, wonderful people! So, this is the sequel to my story "An Unexpected Visit," as many of you know! If you don't, you may be a bit lost unless you read that; I promise it isn't terribly long. :)

At any rate, I'd like to thank you all for clicking on this here short story, as it means the world to know you're reading and reviewing and all that jazz. I hope you enjoy the story!

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Avalain stood at the entrance to what was now called Mirkwood, grumbling to herself about what grief she had gone through to get here. The departure from Rivendell had been swift and relatively easy, but once she had reached the Misty Mountains and witnessed a thunder battle between giant rocks, things became difficult. Not only did the thunder battle make travel complicated and dangerous, but it attracted the attention of some stray goblins. It was only thanks to Avalain's swift reflexes that she hadn't been killed and eaten or worse.

Afterward did not improve much from there. The descent off the mountains had been perilous for both her and her poor horse, Belutha. Though eventually they made it down safely, there were many instances in which either Elf or horse almost broke their leg. Luckily, it had been a relatively straight ride from there to the boundaries of the Greenwood—but staring at it now, Avalain could see for herself that the darkness spreading throughout the wood had completely transformed the place she once called "home."

It was the Greenwood no longer.

Now it was Mirkwood.

Seeing her old home in such disarray saddened Avalain. She held the map of Mirkwood, given to her by her father, in her hands, but she was not sure how much help it would be now. The trees were covered in dead, brown leaves, and the branches cast looming shadows over the ground. The Elvish pathway, which had already been faint at best whilst being the Greenwood, was all but invisible at her feet.

"Think of Fili," sighed Avalain. "Think of him."

It had been three months to the day since she had last seen him. The travel took the better part of two months, and the Company of Thorin Oakenshield had about a month's head start on her. She, however, was on horseback, while they were not. Avalain was certain that if she were to catch up to Fili, it would be in the darkness of Mirkwood.

She turned to Belutha next. The animal's silver fur would surely stick out in such a dull atmosphere; that could be both a good thing and a bad thing. Placing her head on the horse's snout, asked Avalain, "Are you ready to brave the darkness of the wood, mellon?"

The horse snorted. Avalain figured that was the closest to a "yes" she would get.

"Then let us go," she whispered, gently grabbing the reins and pulling Belutha after her. Although she was reluctant, the horse followed her footsteps, willing to follow her mistress to whatever end.

Immediately the atmosphere of death infiltrated Avalain's senses. With saddened eyes, she gazed around at the falling trees and the crumpled leaves. Once, those trees had been home to many forest animals. But now, they were deserted, and all was silent.

Belutha seemed to notice the change too, because she whinnied uncomfortably and shook her head. Avalain pat her snout and shushed her quietly. "We cannot afford to be noticed here," said the Elf to the horse. "We do not know what lingers in these shadows."

The horse snorted and then was quiet.

For hours, Avalain traveled further into the wood's clutches, the thought of Fili keeping her going forward. She hoped that he was not hopelessly lost in these woods—the thick air and lack of sunlight would be enough to drive anyone except an Elf into deliriousness. But as she proceeded, hour after hour, she discovered that even she was getting lightheaded and faint…

Trying to clear her head, Avalain began murmuring aloud to herself. "Just think of how nice it will be to see Legolas again… and King Thranduíl…"

Because that was her purpose; her father, Lord Elrond, had asked her to personally deliver a message to the King of Mirkwood. The darkened wood was home to her best friend, Legolas, whom she had not seen in many years. It was also host to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, that had passed through her city of Rivendell three months beforehand. She smiled as she recalled their short visit—it had been less than a week, but during that time, she and Fili, the nephew of Thorin, had come to care for one another in a greater way than just friends.

He had even declared that he would return to Rivendell at the end of the quest to be with her.

Avalain's smile grew remembering what she had responded: "I would welcome you back to Rivendell, but I would have you return to Erebor… And I would come with you."

"Home is where the heart is," whispered Avalain. If you are there, so is my home.

This thought inspired Avalain to continue onward, no matter how her limbs cried out for rest, or how her head pounded for a respite. The only concern she held for continuing onward was the health of her faithful horse, who had intelligently not uttered a sound since entering the forest.

She eventually decided that a pause was in order. Avalain looked down and moved aside some leaves blocking the Elvish path—it was still beneath her feet. She sighed in relief; she knew the perils of being lost in the woods were endless if one should get lost. Not for the last time, she wondered if the Dwarves were faring well in the forest, or had at least fared well in the forest. Perhaps they had already gotten out?

For the first time Avalain actually thought of this possibility. With Gandalf as their guide, they may have already left the forest. She might not catch up to them after all.

Frustrated with all the endless possibilities, the Elvish princess huffed and tore into a loaf of bread. She knew it would be wise to ration it, however; once she was done with her fill, Avalain withdrew an apple from her small knapsack and fed it to Belutha. The horse chomped noisily on the treat, which made the corners of Avalain's lips turn upward.

After another moment, Avalain knew it was time to resume. If the darkness of Mirkwood had indeed spread so far, she was certain it had already reached Thranduíl's kingdom. She had to warn him of the Necromancer that dwelled in Dol Guldur… if the spirit's gaze trailed to the Elves, they needed to be prepared for a strike.

Time was precious; so the Elf rose and moved to set off. Belutha snorted in discontentment, but she followed all the same.

More and more time passed in the wood. It seemed to Avalain that the entire wood now looked the same; she was all but convinced that she was not going anywhere. It was as if she was walking in place over and over again. The air was growing thinner as she continued on—she had to take deeper breaths than before because she felt so constrained. Behind her, Belutha's ears twitched nervously, and the mare's eyes darted to and fro as if she sensed something watching them.

Avalain worried that perhaps there was: in this accursed forest, her vision was growing fuzzy.

Finally, the Elf decided to turn in for a while. She could hardly see in the gathering darkness; she inferred that dusk was breaking. At this point, the only thing she would accomplish would be losing the path.

"All right, Belutha, mellonlin," murmured Avalain. "It is time to rest."

The horse was happy to oblige. At Avalain's words, she snorted and immediately sat down, her eyes closing sleepily. The Elf felt a pang of guilt—she had worked the poor creature hard to gain some ground on Thorin's Company today.

As the horse began to snore softly, the Elf gazed over the map in her hand. She guessed that she had passed through a third of the woods this day, seeing as she had remembered more of the woods than she'd expected to despite the change that had come over it. She smiled and leaned back as memories of the wood flooded her mind: she remembered climbing the trees with Legolas, and learning about the stars from King Thranduíl. She also recalled the day she and Legolas had wandered off without permission and got stuck in a bog a few leagues out. A raw laugh escaped her as she recalled the King's rage when he'd been forced to go and fetch them.

After another moment, Avalain decided it was time to regain some of her strength. She gazed around cautiously, making sure there was no one around. But even her Elvish vision was not as reliable as it normally would've been—the darkness surrounding everything made it difficult. It was not, however, impaired to the point that she did not see a small leather pouch only five feet away from her.

Her eyes shot open, and she crawled forward to grab the pouch. She stared at the craftsmanship for a moment and gasped. It was unmistakably Dwarvish… A light appeared in her heart knowing that the Company had at least passed this way. And perhaps recently, too…

Gingerly, she opened the pouch and was shocked to see some leaves inside. Avalain knew it was a tobacco pouch, but the fact that one of the Dwarves dropped it and left it behind while there were still tobacco leaves in it worried her. The owner of the pouch would have realized that he left it behind and grabbed it… unless he'd been so delirious that he didn't even know he lost it.

And to lose a tobacco pouch was a big deal for Dwarves.

"Oh, Fili," sighed Avalain. "How I wish I knew if you were safe."

With those words, she leaned backward and fell asleep, impatient for the morning.