A/N: I promised I would be back with the story after a weekend hiatus in which, luckily, the muses have been cooperative. Welcome back to lovely Mirkwood and I hope you're insured against spiders!
Henceforth, updates will not be daily anymore. I will post a new chapter every two days, in the hope that I'll be able to keep this updating schedule and have no need for further breaks.
11.
Bilbo woke to the sound of someone's muffled sobbing. He opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly, trying to dispel the fog before them. Bilbo attempted to raise himself off the ground, but he wobbled under a fierce spell of dizziness. The back of his head ached dully and his stomach rolled, making the poor Hobbit gag. He didn't have the faintest clue where he was or what had happened or why the world spun with him in such a disconcerting fashion.
Taking a few deep breaths, Bilbo slowly righted himself and felt the back of his head. Then, he had a better idea why his ears kept ringing and stars floated before his dazed eyes. He'd taken a heavy blow and there was a bump the size of an egg on the back of his head. Bilbo touched it gingerly, but felt no dampness and saw no blood on his fingers, which brought the Hobbit a small measure of consolation.
He checked himself for other injuries and sat up, staggering on very unsteady feet. Gradually, the world before him became clearer and Bilbo saw where he was. His eyes fell on the carcass of some animal that his brain refused to identify and he remembered all too clearly what had happened. The stampede, the terrified animals, the ambush and those horrible spiders… With an involuntary shiver and a fresh bout of nausea, Bilbo looked around and saw more dead animals. Broken cobwebs floated down from the trees and stuck to the carcasses, but there was no sign of any spider.
Most importantly, though, Bilbo did not see any of his friends anywhere. His heart sank and he refused to believe he had been left all alone, forgotten because nobody could see him. It was only then that Bilbo recalled he still had the ring on and he yanked it off his finger, opening his mouth to shout after the Dwarves and the Elves.
"Bilbo?! Bilbo, is that you?"
Ori came running toward him and Bilbo could honestly say he had never been more relieved to see a Dwarf his entire life. He welcomed the young Dwarf when Ori flung himself at him and hugged the Hobbit tight, but when Bilbo saw Ori's red-rimmed eyes and acute distress written all over his face, he knew that something had gone terribly wrong.
Everyone else had vanished. Ori had searched for them and found absolutely nobody. All around them, the forest floor was littered with dead animals that the spiders had not been able to carry away. But they had caught every one of their friends and Ori had escaped only by laying buried under not one but two fallen animals. He had passed out and taken a mighty bruising, but he was otherwise uninjured.
With his brothers taken and no knowledge whether they were alive or dead, Ori felt fresh tears pricking his eyes and he tugged on his beard, eying Bilbo desperately. But Bilbo didn't know what to say or what to do. He tried to give the young Dwarf some words of comfort but they sounded hollow. Ori helped him step away from where he'd lain unconscious and he gave the Hobbit a little bit of water. It revived Bilbo somewhat and together, they began scanning the trampled ground for signs of what had happened to their friends.
It felt like hours before the two of them emerged into the afternoon sun and saw what the stampede had left behind outside the forest. Nothing stirred on the beaten-down grasses and the cries of carrion birds had Bilbo squinting up into the hazy sky. More corpses lay here and there, waiting to be picked clean, but no horses or ponies were among them. Bilbo had only found his poor mount lying dead where the spiders had attacked it and he shed a few quiet tears, wondering how many of the faithful beasts he would lose before the nightmarish quest was over.
Throughout the place where the spiders had ambushed them, Bilbo and Ori found many signs of struggle and weapons scattered on the forest floor. They came upon the Elvish blades where their owners had been forced to abandon them. Orcirst lay on the withered leaves, coated in filthy spider blood, but Thorin had been dragged away from it. Ori found the sword and mace his brothers carried and each discovery had him trembling with worry for their fate. The only encouraging fact was the absence of blood wherever a struggle had taken place. The spiders had overcome both Elves and Dwarves, but they meant to take them alive and Bilbo recalled what Radagast had told them about the giant spiders of Mirkwood. Those filthy creatures stunned their prey and kept it alive for days, until it was time to feast on it.
Of course, there was little comfort in such knowledge. As soon as Ori found the trail the spiders had left as they sped off with their prey, he meant to follow it. He would rescue his brothers or, at the very least, he would not let them become some filthy beast's dinner. Bilbo could not agree more, although the prospect of venturing any deeper into that accursed forest frightened him to no end. There wasn't really any other option, but before they flung themselves after the spiders, they needed to sort themselves out and think about the means of their pursuit.
Fortunately, they found most of their friends' belongings where they had fallen and more than one backpack had survived without being trampled. As quickly as Ori and Bilbo could, they picked up food and water and stuffed it into two backpacks. They regarded the other things sadly, loathe to leave behind weapons or little knick-knacks that obviously meant a lot to their owners, since they were willing to carry them along on such a lengthy journey. But there was only so much the two of them could carry and in the late hours of the day, they shouldered the packs and said farewell to sunlight. Ori took Orcrist with him and Bilbo used one of the Elven blades as the longest and sharpest walking-stick he'd ever carried. Thus equipped, they girt themselves and set off.
Following the spiders was an easy task at first, as they had been many and the prey they carried off neither light nor few in number. Every now and then, the two of them came upon strips of cloth or strands of hair snagged by wayward branches and they searched those spots carefully, hoping for a sign that the spiders' prisoners still lived.
In the meager light that pierced the thick canopy, Bilbo and Ori followed a trail that lead westward and north, although they could not tell the direction they were walking in and would have become lost if not for the signs of the spider's passing. They were going deeper into the forest than either of them had any wish for, but nothing opposed them. A small measure of relief came when the Running barred their path, giving them at least some clue as to how far they'd gone. But crossing the quick flowing river would have been impossible if not for the thick ropes of spider silk that still hung over the gorge where waters bubbled and frothed through.
It hurt their hands to touch the smelly, sticky stuff and Bilbo was seized by vertigo so strong that he nearly blacked out as he hung onto the spider threads, but Ori kept talking to him and nudging him forward until they stood safely on the other side. From there, they pushed on, encouraged by finding one of Fili's many hidden daggers stuck in the mossy ground at their feet.
But night fell on them quickly and made it impossible to advance. The darkness was so thick they could not see their own hands as they waved them before their eyes. Getting lost in the evil forest would be the easiest thing in the world. They tried to gather wood and make some torches, but when they set fire to them, only noxious fumes poured out and it was impossible to move by what little light they gave.
Unwilling to abandon the chase though they both were, Bilbo and Ori had to stop for the night or else lose the trail and become completely lost in the malevolent forest. They lit a small fire but put it out immediately, as it drew a myriad of insects, from huge mosquitoes to moths the size of Bilbo's palm. Everything about Mirkwood was uncanny and dangerous.
They took turns trying to sleep that night, although rest would not come. They were both exhausted, but too frightened and worried to take any real rest. And although he tried to help Ori keep his spirits up, Bilbo wondered if either of them would make it out of the forest alive.
…
For two days, the Hobbit and the young Dwarf trudged through the vast darkness of Mirkwood, unsure where their desperate journey would end.
They had no real notion of direction or the passing of time, save for the varying degrees of darkness and how the forest became more closed in and the air gradually became impossible to breathe.
Bilbo had always been fond of walking through the woods in his beloved Shire, but as Mirkwood ate away his courage and any hope he had of ever seeing his home again, the Hobbit vowed never to set foot in another forest again. No less discouraged, Ori plodded on beside him, growing more despondent as time passed and he was nowhere near learning anything new about the fate of his brothers and his friends.
Some time after the second night stop they had made and well into what would have passed for morning in the outside world, Bilbo felt a change coming over the forest around them. Somehow, the sense of danger grew deeper and the gloom thickened, letting not a sliver of sunshine peek through the thick foliage. The Hobbit urged Ori to tread even more carefully and they slowed their advance, scanning their surroundings warily.
Some way ahead, where the gloom seemed deeper and the air reeked even worse than before, they thought they could hear clicks and chatter and the foliage rustling. Bilbo guessed they had finally come to the spiders' lair after following their trail for two desperate days. With no visible sign of anyone in the company, the Hobbit feared the worst, but said the exact opposite, trying to give Ori some hope.
Hope and no small amount of courage were badly needed for what they had to do next. And a great deal of stealth above all else. Bilbo meant to venture forward alone, under the cover of his magic ring, hoping to find out more before their adventure came to a sad end and the spiders captured them as well.
During their gloomy camps, Bilbo had told Ori about the ring and recounted the tale of its finding. Without knowing precisely why he did it, Bilbo found himself tailoring the story and keeping the nastiest details to himself. If Ori found any of it odd, he said nothing and accepted Bilbo's awkward explanation. The Hobbit said that his magic ring made for one remarkable tool of his trade as the company's official burglar. The time had come to put that tool and Bilbo's skill to the first real test.
The Hobbit advised Ori to take cover and stay hidden while he went to scout the surrounding area. The young Dwarf squeezed himself into the hollow of an ancient tree and covered himself with moldy leaves to be better hidden and to cover his scent. Under no circumstance was he to come out until Bilbo returned and especially not if night fell over the evil place once more.
Plucking up all the courage he had left, Bilbo slipped the ring on and began to creep through the forest as silently as only a Hobbit could. Although he took care to silence even his breathing, Bilbo still feared the pale eyes of the spiders and did not doubt their sharp sight, as the beasts dwelt and hunted in the darkness of those woods.
As he drew further away from Ori and into the rustling trees, the gloom thickened and Bilbo saw that that many webs had been woven into the trees and between them, covering the forest roof with a stifling cloak. Many spiders scuttled about, their shapes black and bloated and their eyes throwing back whatever light lingered in the accursed place in greenish glints. The Hobbit held his breath and flattened himself against the rough bark of the closest tree, his heart beating so fast it filled his ears with the thundering of his fear. Bilbo was certain that the spiders would hear him and sniff the terror that rolled of him even if he was invisible to their eyes. But when a pair of those hideous creatures dropped to the forest floor right in front of the Hobbit, they saw nothing and scuttled away, chittering among themselves.
Bilbo bit back a nervous yelp of relief and pried himself away from the tree. It took more courage than the Hobbit imagined he possessed to follow the spiders and pretend that the trees he sneaked through were not crisscrossed with sticky avenues where more of those creatures walked.
In many ways, it was worse than being caught in the goblin tunnels, or so Bilbo thought as he bemoaned his terrible fate. Under the mountains, at least he'd expected to run into foul things and to find the air impossible to breathe. But a forest, living and growing under the sun, couldn't possibly be so evil and stuffed with the reek of death so poignant that each time Bilbo inhaled, his stomach protested against it. And he was alone in that gods-forsaken place, without Gandalf or Elves to perform some magic trick and make it all better and without any of the fearless Dwarves to stand between him and the monstrous spiders. Bilbo had Ori, but what could the two of them do against a whole colony of hideous beasts? How were they to save the others and what if there was nobody left to save?
Bilbo ground his teeth hard and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself. He could not despair before he knew what had befallen his friends and the only way to learn that was to press forward. The Hobbit reminded himself to leave a small scratch on the nearest tree-trunk as he would never be able to find his way back to Ori without following the marks he had left in his passing.
At last and with infinite caution, Bilbo crept into the heart of the spider colony and found himself at the edge of a circular clearing. But it could only be named so loosely, because the stifling air grew no clearer. In place of the dense foliage, the spiders had woven a roof of their foul webs and only the murkiest of light penetrated the enormous cocoon. By that light Bilbo saw stumps of trees long dead and rotten peeking from some kind of shriveled vegetation. Threads of spider silk stuck to everything and bones of all sizes completed the most sinister forest floor the Hobbit had ever imagined. The smell of rot and spider waste and their poison was so potent there that Bilbo gagged and buried his nose in his sleeve, struggling to keep himself from heaving. But he forgot his nausea a moment later when his eyes ceased to water and he saw many shapes hanging from branches at the other end of the clearing.
Before he knew he was doing it, Bilbo counted the suspended shapes all wrapped in spider silk and hanging high above the ground. They were fifteen, some smaller, some longer and some wider than others. Bilbo's heart sank and his knees almost buckled when he realized that he was looking at his friends, trapped and helpless against the dozens of spiders swarming the trees they were held in.
Before his courage gave out completely, Bilbo willed himself to creep closer and see if any of the captives still lived. Heedless of his peril, Bilbo slipped from tree to tree until he was close enough to identify the cocooned shapes. But his luck held and whatever noise his advance had made could not be heard above the din of the entire colony bustling around the prisoners.
The biggest and fattest spiders hung around the branches the Dwarves and the Elves were suspended from. They poked and prodded the prisoners and Bilbo's breath caught when he thought one of the stockiest cocoons gave a weak yelp. From it, a big nose and some strands of red hair poked through the wrapping. It was Gloin and when Bilbo saw him struggling under the vicious poking and pinching, his relief knew no bounds. At least one of the Dwarves was alive!
Bombur's braided beard hung outside the tight cocoon he'd been woven into, and around him, four spiders seemed to dispute the right to their biggest prey. Bombur yelped miserably when the spiders pinched him without pity and he struggled weakly, but to no avail. The poor Dwarf was hanging upside down and he would pass out before long, if his unfortunate fate allowed him that small favor. But Bilbo meant to do something before any of his friends was eaten.
The Hobbit studied all of them carefully and hope swelled in his heart, although only some of the prisoners showed signs of life. The Elves had been hung aside, into the highest tree at the edge of the clearing, and there, several spiders stood guard. Bilbo saw one of them tentatively poking the largest of the cocooned Elves and even through the general racket, the Hobbit heard Celegorm growling angrily. If he could free the Elf and give him a weapon, perhaps he would be strong enough to fight.
Bilbo tightened his grip on the hilt of his little Elvish sword and almost started for the three in question, when he caught himself and sank back into the trunk he had sheltered against. How long before the spiders would catch him? How long before a thread snared him and made him visible? He wouldn't even have the chance to cut one of the Elves free. Not with all those spiders keeping watch and scuttling about.
As he curled himself into a miserable ball and felt despair creeping over him, Bilbo's eyes fell on the gravelly bed of a dried stream that had probably flown through the clearing in better times. He sat up abruptly and all but dashed back to where Ori lay hidden. Eyes on the trees he had marked and suddenly alive with new found courage, Bilbo ran, spurred on by the most reckless plan his rich imagination had ever conjured.