Far From Home
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC - all else belongs to the creative genius Tolkien !
Chapter One
The air was heavy and still as Susanna trudged on through the dense undergrowth, with only the littlest amount of sunlight to guide her way. Hidden tree roots
threatened to snag her weathered boots with every step, and her tanned face was scratched in several places from the thorny vines which often blocked her way.
Coming to a sudden halt, she granted herself a moments rest as she released her arms from the straps of her backpack, and allowed the heavy gear to slip to the
moss covered ground with a thump. With laboured breathing, the human girl gazed upwards at the overhead canopy of greens and browns, wishing for a breeze or
even some rain to ease the suffocating atmosphere of the forest. She had not been in Mirkwood for but a day, and already she was beginning to feel affected by it –
the humidity clung about her uncomfortably, and the shadows and strange noises put her on edge. Her mind felt woozy, and she was vaguely aware of her thoughts
becoming more and more unfocused, as if there were some spell upon her.
Resting a hand upon a gnarled trunk, Susanna briefly let her mind wander to her hometown not two weeks journey from here. When their healer (an ancient kindly
man with a wrinkled face and a wealth of life experience) had died before they could choose his successor, her people had been in shock, and were slow to react. He
was very old, nobody denied that - but he had cheated death for so long that it seemed as though he would stay with them forever. Almost one hundred years old, he
had long outlived their other medicine men, and had been their chief healer since he settled in the town at the age of twenty and two years – the age Susanna
possessed now. He had been like a father to her, and her hand clenched into a fist against the bark as she struggled to fight the hot tears which threatened to spill
down her face at his memory. Always filling her head with tales of peril, love and excitement from his adventures in faraway places, Micah had taught her that life had
much more to offer than the daily gossip and mundane chores of her small birthplace. Her own father was a brute of a man who would smack first and ask questions
later, and was adamant Susanna would sew and sing and get married like the other girls – going on a short trip to a neighbouring village took weeks of persuasion,
and learning a trade or even how to defend herself with sword or bow was simply out of the question. Micah had recognized her burning desire for more, and had
risked her father's deadly temper night after night as he taught her to read and write in secret. By the age of sixteen, she had devoured all his books on healing
properties, and was well versed in how to survive in the wild, as well as the proper way to wield various weapons - but that was all theoretical. She had no actual
experience of anything (except in healing, for Micah would sometimes allow her to assist him or even take charge in treating minor ailments), and so when she had
found herself running home after the news of his passing to pack clothes and provisions, she could scarcely believe what she was doing. Her face had been a mask,
the tears in her eyes the only indication of her heartbreak as she robotically fastened her backpack, and slipped her brother's dagger and sheath about her waist. In
her grief Susanna's wits had been scattered, and she had not thought to take with her any medicines, or even another weapon should she lose the first. All she knew
was that there was nothing here for her now; the world had been turned upside down and she had to get out, she had to leave this place and start her life afresh,
free of restrictions, the way Micah had lived, the way he would have wanted her to spend her adulthood – not squander what time she had left in a dead-end town
learning nothing, doing nothing. Neighbouring towns and cities had fleetingly crossed her mind, but her father would surely search for her there to bring her back,
and may well even kill her for the shame her scandalous disappearance would bring upon the family. Susanna did not care how her actions may reflect upon them;
since her mother's death, her father's temper had only increased, and where she had thought she might find kindness in her brother William, she was met with only
stony indifference – he withdrew into himself, their mother's passing having affected him deeply. Where at first she had felt pity and empathy, Susanna had soon lost
any patient understanding she might have held for him – his face as he sat silently watching the first time their father had violently beat her in a drunken stupor had
seared into her brain, and it was his utter disinterest in her suffering which had been the source of her agony as she sobbed into her pillow later that night, rather
than the bruises and cuts that layered her body. And so her mind roiling with emotion, Susanna had stepped out of her doorway for the final time, leaving behind her
world as she knew it. Her senses clouded by grief and anger, she had blindly allowed her feet to lead her where they would, as her heart and mind remained cloaked
in a sense of loss. It was only when she found herself hesitating at the edge of Mirkwood forest that she finally came back to herself – as though waking from a very
deep sleep, the sight of the gigantic trees before her and the pleasant noises of birdsong and water that reached her ears as she gazed upwards in awe reminded her
of why she was here, and not at home preparing lunch for her father, or at choir practice with the other town girls. Micah had wanted her to live – and live she would.
A sudden rustling in the trees not far from where Susanna was standing jolted her out of her memories, and back to reality. Swiftly unsheathing her dagger, she stood
tensely - eyes searching every shadow, ears straining for another sound. When she was met only with silence, save for the familiar chattering of sparrows, she let her
body relax. Inhaling deeply, she relished the warm, earthy scent of the forest – so unlike the dirty smoke filled air of human towns. Smiling, Susanna bent down to
recover her backpack. There it was again. Her fingers outstretched, she stood frozen for a heartbeat, paralyzed by the icy fear creeping down her spine. It's getting
closer. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she straightened quickly. Holding the blade defensively in front of her, she cautiously edged backwards, increasing the
distance between her and the stirring bushes. Something skittered in the thicket to her left. Susanna leapt to the right, almost tripping over a fallen branch, her heart
pounding in her chest. Her hands were shaking. Tightening her grip, she steeled herself against the feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm her, and focused her
senses on the present danger. She was being hunted, she realized with surprise – and then everything seemed to become like a dream. She was vaguely aware of a
horrible snapping noise approaching from her side, and herself as she stooped, quick as lightning, to snatch a rock with her free hand. It was heavy in her grasp, and
weighed upon her arm as she held it behind her, ready to fire. She rotated slowly, half crouched, her breathing shallow and uneven. The scurrying of what could have
been a thousand legs was now all around her, and when the first monstrous beast broke through the undergrowth, she hurled the rock fiercely without hesitation,
before hastily lifting another. Her body was on autopilot, and Susanna numbly observed as she blinded another foul creature with expert aim, her arm appearing to
have a mind of its own as it catapulted stone after stone into the bulging eyes that swarmed about her. She was completely at the mercy of the fighting instinct
overpowering her mind and body, and it swiftly quelled any desire to run, or scream for help. The impatient snapping of countless pincers filled her ears, adding to the
roaring of her own blood. She wildly sliced at the air as one came close, and the spider screeched in pain as her dagger bit into a leg. Whirling round, she repeated
the action, daring any creature to come within range of her frantic hacking. The adrenaline pumping through her veins gave her strength, but the detached coolness
that had gripped Susanna in the face of death began to falter, as she realized she was outnumbered beyond hope; where she had warded off some with the sting of
her rocks, more had returned – and she could not hope to survive, should the horde of gigantic beasts mass upon her at once. Wishing she had more knives to throw,
Susanna's panicked thoughts were interrupted as something flew past her, inches from her face. Startled, her shaking hands lost grip of the dagger, and it fell out of
her grasp, burying itself amongst the foliage. She turned towards the source of her distraction, but could see nothing except the spiders' restless black legs, and the
thick cobwebs that now stretched between the trees. A piercing squeal to her right caused her to spin round, but before her muddled head could register the spider
writhing on its back, or the several arrows that were embedded in its abdomen, a blinding pain in her left calf brought her heavily to her knees. A gasp wrenched
from her lips. The small scalds and cuts from life in the town were nothing like the pain radiating up her leg – even her father's slaps and punches paled in
comparison. Susanna's breathing was ragged as she struggled to her feet, and she almost hit the ground again as a wave of agony washed over her from the
pressure of standing upon her injured leg. With barely the tips of her toes touching the leaf ridden soil, she blinked rapidly, and shifted her weight to the right. Her
vision was blurry and unclear as she gazed at the scene unfurling before her. Swaying slightly, she could make out that a great deal of the creatures were on the
ground, unmoving. The few which remained were screeching furiously - but at what, Susanna could not see. Frowning with confusion, she glanced down to survey her
wound, her mind reeling with pain. The sight which met her seemed almost too horrific to be true; a long shafted arrow had punctured the flesh of her calf, luckily
missing the bone – but had pierced right through the muscle, and the bloodied arrow head alongside a few inches of wood protruded sickeningly from the other side
of her slender leg. Susanna's green eyes widened in disbelief. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she weakly fought back the urge to retch. There was a
roaring in her ears, and faintly she could hear voices shouting. That's not the language of men, she thought feebly, unable to tear her eyes away from the blood which
had soaked through her leggings. Fear had replaced confusion, and the fogginess gripping her mind was growing stronger. The blood had formed a small pool about
her foot. Fighting to retain consciousness, Susanna forced her right foot forwards. She had to get the dagger, she had to defend herself. She could not die on her first
day in Mirkwood. What would Micah think, if he were to see her fail so soon! Her mind reeling from pain and emotion, she made her left foot follow. The spasm of
agony that seemed to shudder through her entire body made her cry out, and it took all she had to stay upright, her leg shaking violently. The tears which had pooled
in her eyes overflowed and streaked down her face, and she inwardly cursed herself for her weakness. Gritting her teeth, she managed a few more uneven steps –
but the pain was too much. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and she felt her knees give way beneath her. The roaring in her ears was deafening, the searing pain in her
leg blinding. She could feel herself slipping from consciousness, and her hand clenched, fingers digging into leaves and dirt as she tried to fight it. She was only half
aware of the footsteps approaching her, or the pair of hands lifting under her arms, turning her onto her back. Suddenly the cold hard ground fell away from beneath
her, and something lightly brushed against her face, tickling her slightly. Her eyelids felt as though they were made of stone, and a small moan escaped her lips as
she forced them open, spending what little energy she had left. Gazing upwards, the last thing to fill Susanna's mind before fading into blackness, was the long,
white-blond hair falling about her like a curtain, and a pair of piercing azure eyes staring intensely into hers.