...

The Mirkwood was like something out of a nightmare. Its plants sickly, blue and purple in color. Every step in this Yavanna-forsaken forest made Bilbo's stomach turn and threaten to reject the little food it held. Days melted together and every step they took seemed to show them familiar sights, even though they had followed the road (as far as they could tell) as Beorn directed. The air seemed poisoned, and Bilbo could tell he wasn't the only one affected as he noticed how Frodo seemed to stay near him, his eyes wide and childlike, sometimes clutching his sleeve. Every chance he had, Bilbo relaxed his cousin, even though their nerves were similarly frayed by the forest.

This must have been why his mother left. She couldn't bear the effects of the Elvenking's heartbreak on the forest, soured and rotten as it was. If the forest reflected the king at all, Bilbo wasn't sure if he wanted to meet him.

After a while of wandering- maybe a few days, Bilbo was sure no one could tell- Thorin threw up his hands.

"This is pointless!" He grumbled. "Halflings, one of you, climb a tree and tell us how far we've come and how far we still have." Bilbo sighed, I'm not half of anything.

"Frodo, stay with Dori." He said before turning and hoisting himself into the tree.

When he was a fauntling, Bilbo would love to climb trees, pretending to be with the elves of the Greenwood, scouting the forest for dangers, like dragons. His body didn't seem to have forgotten, so he climbed the tree easily, even though his body protested touching the damned thing. He climbed until he broke through the canopy and reveled at the sunlight that touched his skin and let his joy bubble from him when hundreds of Blue Emperor butterflies took off from the leaves.

Bilbo's joy quickly subsided when he glanced around him and saw the miles of never ending forest still around them. There was no way, he could see, they would make it to the mountain by Durin's Day. With a deep breath, Bilbo descended back down the tree, down to the expectant dwarves. Letting himself down to the ground, he turned to Thorin and shook his head, looking straight into the dwarf's eyes, which seemed to turn a shade darker.

"We'll never get out of this accursed forest." He growled, turning and leading the dwarves down the path once more.

...

Bombur saw the first light. And he paused in the middle of the path, his brother and cousin running into him. Bofur looked at him curiously.

"What is it, Bom?" He asked before lifting his eyes to where his brother stared. "Oh..." His eyes widened. "Thorin! Thorin! You ought to see this!"

That was how Thorin got the brilliant idea to walk off the path and enter the lit clearing. Bilbo, stubborn as he was, refused to leave his place on the path, though his stomach roared at him. It wasn't until the light returned on the other side of the path that Bilbo took his few cautious steps toward it, making himself as small as possible as he approached it. He couldn't help but notice the music and laughter drifting from the clearing.

"Hello?" He called out, and the moment he did all sound vanished. "Hello?" He repeated, his voice small as he could make it before he gave himself a final push, stepping into the light.

Before being swiftly pulled back into darkness. The dwarves were gone, his cousin was gone, and by now, the food and water was gone. He curled up into himself, taking a deep breath. Thus is the journey of Bilbo Baggins of Bag End...

...

A quiet scuttling noise brought him back. Bilbo sat up, ignoring the rush to his head and looked at the forest around him, hearing small songs. Carefully, he unsheathed his sword, rising from the grass and looking around him. He could make out shapes, both large and small in the distance. Slowly, cautiously, carefully, he crept toward the noise, jumping when he felt a hand on his arm.

"It's okay." Came a whispered voice. "It's me." Bilbo let out his breath and slipped beside a crouched Frodo by a bush. "What's the plan?" He asked, and Bilbo shook his head.

"I'm not sure... What happened?"

"Spiders, giant ones. They got the Company after the last light went out. I was able to get away, but they don't really seem to like elvish metal all that much..." He shrugged. "Maybe you could distract them and I'll try to get the dwarves down." Bilbo nodded.

"That could work, perfect..."

...

"Old fat spider spinning in a tree." Bilbo sang, shaking even though he knew they couldn't see him due to the ring he wore. "Old fat spider can't spy me." He bolted to the other side of the clearing, dodging the raging spiders, before singing again. "Attercop! Attercop!" Which was rude and something no Baggins should ever say. "Won't you stop! Stop your spinning and look for me." His heart was racing. This was the most daring thing he'd ever done next to standing up to Azog.

"Old Tomnoddy, all big body! Old Tomnoddy can't spy me!" He honestly couldn't believe he was saying these things. "Attercop! Attercop! Won't you drop! You'll never catch me up your tree!" By now, the spiders' attention was successfully on him, and Frodo was working in the trees at letting down the dwarves. He let out a sigh of relief. It was working. Their plan was working.

"Lazy Lob and Crazy Cob are weaving webs to wind me. I'm far more sweet than any other meat, but still they cannot find me." He nearly laughed at how well he rhymed under pressure. "Here I am! Naughty little fly," admittedly by now, Bilbo had started having a little fun, dancing to his little song, "you are fat and lazy. You'll never trap me, though you try, in your cobwebs, Crazy!"

When he finished his second song, Bilbo was pleased to see that Frodo had let loose all of the dwarves and had dragged them to safety. As fast as he could, Bilbo escaped the spiders, slashing a few that got too close.

"Stinging fly." The songs seemed to hiss at him. Bilbo grinned, it wasn't that bad of a title. He certainly liked it.

He broke through the trees, stumbling onto the path and the waking dwarves and his fussing cousin, who picked a bit of cobweb from his hair.

"How are they?" He asked, shooing away the picking hands and nodding to the dwarves.

"Better." Frodo shrugged. "We're missing one." Bilbo glanced at him; he opened his mouth ready to speak.

"Dwalin!" Ori all but shouted, ripping the web from the tattooed dwarf's clothes. Dwalin swatted him away.

"I'm fine. Don't fuss. I get enough of that from Balin." He scolded lightly, and Ori grinned.

"Good, I'm glad." He gave a sweet smile before leaning a little closer, and Dwalin leaned up a little.

"Oh, no you don't!" Dori, who had just woke up (and the best thing to wake you would be to find your little brother almost kissing someone), reached forward and pulled Ori back at the last second. Dwalin crashed forward, and Ori fell back onto Bombur, who was still out, due to the amount of venom the spiders gave him. Bilbo shook his head in amusement before turning back to Frodo.

"Who's missing?"

"Thorin."

If the Elvenking Thranduil was a dangerous friend, Mahal only knew how dangerous he could be as an enemy. He strutted before his throne, his crown climbing high on his head. The gold and green of his throne room was a happy ignorance of the evil that lurked outside his safe palace. Thorin glared up at him, and the elf returned the menacing gaze.

"Why did you disrupt my people's festival, Thorin Oakenshield?" The Elvenking remained the embodiment of grace as he looked at the dwarf from the corner of his eye.

"Because my people and myself were starving." Was Thorin's answer, looking to Thranduil as if the elf bored him desperately.

"But why did you trespass into my lands?"

"We were starving and looking for food."

"Why have you even come into the forest?"

Now, Thorin remained silent, keeping his eyes on the other king indignantly.

"Ah... Tauriel, escort Thorin Oakenshield to the dungeons until he is prepared to speak and tell me exactly what brings him to my forest." Thranduil said before exiting the room. The auburn-haired guard walked to Thorin.

"This way."