AN: I'm so very sorry it took me so long to get this out, but I hope you enjoy the next chapter. There will be some twists and turns along the way, both literal and figurative…mostly literal.

~Ere Break of Day~

Chapter Twelve – Maneuvers in the Dark

Like every other time during their travels, they were making haste. Pushing the ponies to the fastest they could carry their passengers and the added weight of armor and supplies, and all as the sun was barely raised. For the most part their company was silent with the sense of urgency and atmosphere of apprehension that nipped at their heels, danger seemingly lurking from both the forest they were leaving and the one they were soon approaching.

Long gone were the few sightings of birds and small deer that scattered as their ponies clomped near. In their stead was yellowing grass that grew shorter and shorter as they drew nearer to the tall, black trees that stretched upward and outward with great overhanging boughs. Their trunks were cracked and gnarled with moss and ivy grown over their bark, their limbs thick with long leaves that aided their task of obstructing the sun.

Gandalf stopped his pony short and dismounted, which prompted the others to do the same. Bilbo watched as he approached two trees that stood apart, parallel to one another and covered in ivy and vines. On further inspection, Bilbo realized the vines wrapped around a stone archway, carved with symbols in a language that looked familiar.

"The Elven Gate," said Gandalf, answering the hobbit's inward question as he addressed the company. "Here lies our path through Mirkwood."

"No sign of the orcs," said Dwalin, though he still held to his axe, ever battle-ready. They were all set on edge just being in proximity to a place so dismal in appearance. "We have luck on our side."

Gandalf paused for a moment, staring out upon the moor with a peculiar expression. He took this look on often, Bilbo noticed, and it always as if the wizard were gazing at something only he could see in the distance, whether it were really there or something he saw in his own mind.

"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf said after a moment, "Let them return to their master."

Bilbo would be sorry to see his go. The frisky thing reminded him of Myrtle. And this forest—which really seemed more like a jungle—was tall and imposing, with something else that danced along his senses. Something unearthly, and wrong.

"This forest feels sick, as if a disease lies upon it. Is there no way around?" he asked. Gandalf shook his head, though didn't turn to the hobbit.

"Not unless we go two hundred miles north, or twice that distance south."

Again, the wizard took on that look, and Bilbo, feeling a bit fidgety (anxious at what perils awaited them in that dreadful place), tucked two fingers into his pocket and grazed its contents.

When he became aware of himself again, he heard Gandalf halt the dwarves in their efforts to free all the ponies, including his horse.

"Surely you're not leaving us," Bilbo said quickly. It was phrased more as a question. Inwardly he cringed at seeing the pity and regret in Gandalf's eyes. He hadn't wanted to sound desperate, but the only real reason he was still alive was because of the wizard's protection.

"I would not do this unless I had to," said Gandalf. He peered down at the hobbit with a measuring look. "You're not the same hobbit who left the Shire."

"I…I was going to tell you…" Again his fingers twitched in his pocket, closed over the cool, familiar shape and released. "I…found something in the Goblin tunnels."

"Found what?" the wizard asked suspiciously, and it made the hobbit nervous. "What did you find?"

"…My courage."

Gandalf's expression softened.

"Good…that's good. You'll need it," he said, hesitating for a mere moment before heading toward his horse. Readjusting the saddle from where Bifur and Bofur had untied some of its fastenings, he addressed Thorin.

"I'll be waiting at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe, and do not enter that mountain without me…This is not the Greenwood of old," he cautioned. "The very air of it is full of illusion that will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."

"Astray from what?" Aneira asked quietly. She'd said little since leaving Beorn's home, and littler still since they'd arrived at Mirkwood's edge. She too felt the unease of the group, more now that Gandalf would not be with them.

"You must stay on the path, and do not depart from it. You will never find it again once you have lost it." His voice was grave and thick with warning, even as he urged his horse into movement. "No matter what may come, stay on the path!"

They watched as his form slowly disappeared in the brush and wild grasses, until they could wait no longer and Thorin led them on through the Gate.

The arch led into a gloomy sort of tunnel carved out by the canopy of trees above, casting them into near darkness. The narrowness of it forced the company to walk in single file as the path wove around trees and boulders. Gradually their eyes grew used to the dimness, but traversing the path was arduous and confusing, and after long, even Thorin was hard-pressed to find the right direction of the actual path.

If felt as if they'd been walking for days, rather than however much time had actually passed. Before long the perfect line they'd been walking in dissembled into Bofur climbing a large boulder to see if the path led down a long tunnel that he swore was there, no matter how much Gloin pointed out there wasn't one, while Fili and Kili stumbled along thick, low-lying branches that hovered not far from the ground. They explored, waiting for Thorin and Dwalin to make a decision on which direction to go next.

"This set of stepping stones looks exactly like the stone path we've been following as of late."

"That way leads us into a patch of brambles, Thorin. It's this way."

"The trees block the path that way—"

"That's why we carry swords and axes."

"A path would not be made through something that would block it."

"May I remind you both," Balin cut in, "there is only one set of stones going down the middle. Nothing but dirt lies where you point, Thorin, and the other way lies a rather large and thorny bush that would take ages for us to cut down."

There were eerie noises, Aneira noticed. Scuffling and grunts and rustling in the undergrowth that had her constantly peering over her shoulder and patting herself down for any insects making the hairs on her arms raise. Worse still were the enormous cobwebs spanning tree trunk to tree trunk, limb to limb, and she tried and tried and tried not to think about what kind of beast made webs of such a size. As each hour passed she grew more fearful and wary, her eyes darting to and fro as she followed Nori and Ori in front of her.

It's so dark and stuffy, suffocating…there is no shred of light, and who knows how long it will be until we reach the other side.

Then the first night in Mirkwood passed. It had been cold and unforgiving, with eyes that blinked and stared and noises that rustled and growled and hummed, and things that buzzed in her ears when she tried to close her eyes. Starting a fire had only drawn large moths and larger bats near their heads and to the flames. They caused too much annoyance to keep the fire going.

Tempers were becoming short as finding their way through the forest became increasingly difficult. Not even Fili and Kili, who were adept and alleviating a dreary mood with their laughter and games and trivial pursuits, were now abnormally quiet. She hadn't checked in what seemed like hours, but Aneira remembered them being somewhere behind her.

Looking up and around only made her want to draw further inside herself, into her coat and disappear from the oppressive atmosphere with things that lurked in places she couldn't see.

It felt like they were lost.

"You must stay on the path, and do not depart from it. You will never find it again once you have lost it."

Thinking of her home in the Shire, green grass and bright colors under summer sunshine helped, just a little, but also made it worse when she opened her eyes to reality. She tucked her hands close to her body and tried in vain to keep her eyes forward while simultaneously watching her path for stones that might decide to trip her.

"Terrible day for a stroll." She glanced over to see Kili walking beside her. He was looking ahead, but the ghost of a grin on his features gave him away. Her eyes travelled father to the right and found Fili beside his brother.

"If I were ever to go on holiday, this would be the last place I would choose," Fili remarked. "Such poor lighting."

Her mouth twitched upward.

"Don't you live in a mountain?" He gave her a long look.

"Mountain tunnels are much less stuffy and are always lit to full capacity," he pointed out.

"Not to mention not nearly as…creepy," Kili added. Aneira would take their word for it. Anywhere, even the Goblin tunnels, had been more pleasant than…than this.

"It's so dark," she murmured, her eyes drifting upward once more. Beyond the path they followed she could have sworn she saw eyes, wide and animalistic, some narrowed and a glowing contrast to what shrouded their bodies. Her hands trembled and she grasped onto the folds of her coat.

It'll be an eternity before we get out.

She wanted fresh air and sunlight so desperately, she could imagine herself climbing the trees to claw her way out, if only for a glimpse of the world above.

"You must stay on the path, and do not depart from it…"

Another three days wore on, though they felt like an entire year had passed them by as they attempted to follow the stone path. Rations were already becoming sparse, and so they were always hungry as they limited the rations.

Aneira held her protesting stomach as they trekked onward, trying in vain to muffle the sound. Bilbo gave her a sympathetic glance.

"That's the fourth time in the past ten minutes," she moaned. "At this point, I would eat the bark off the trees."

"I doubt it would agree with you," Kili commented. She looked over at him with a pitiful expression. He could relate with his own empty stomach occasionally vocalizing its protest, but he'd learned long ago how to deal with hunger. Something told him she'd never really experienced it before this expedition, and truth be told he hadn't for a long time. Some of his earliest childhood memories were of his mother serving him potato skin broths and cabbage soups, bitter to the taste and meager to satiate the hunger of growing boys. He distantly remembered him and his brother trying in vain to warm their hands by a dim fire of one or two logs. But those memories were few after the dwarves of Erebor settled fully in the Blue Mountains and began getting work as blacksmiths, carpenters, jewelry makers, seamstresses and the like.

"Nor would it be easy eating," Fili added with an amused look. Aneira deflated at this, though her imagination worked to find other alternatives. A rustling of leaves and wooden limbs could be heard above, and she looked up to pinpoint its origin.

"Maybe you could shoot down some of those squirrels that keep scurrying up there," she suggested. Fili shook his head.

"Tried that earlier," Kili answered before he could speak. "Nothing but skin and bones, wouldn't be worth it. Lost more arrows than I was willing, too."

He'd insisted on finding them, but Thorin wouldn't have him wandering away from the group for an instant. Kili could understand his uncle's reasoning. He knew he'd been a hellion for a long time, and in this place, hellionism wouldn't be tolerated well. But many of those arrows he'd made himself. Found the feathers, carved the wood, sharpened the heads, tied them expertly and knew each by their weight. He would know one of his own arrows simply by the feel of it in his hands.

In the end, Fili had convinced him that it was better to leave them where they lay than getting himself lost or cast under one of the forests "illusions." That and provoking their uncle's anger was something they'd endeavored to wait on until leaving this place.

"What I'd give for a nice warm bun, buttered, with sausage," she murmured. "My mother used to make those when I was younger."

In her warm little hobbit hole with everything she could ever need, Kili mused. Not out of the old resentment and annoyance he'd once harbored against her, but he couldn't help but think Aneira had been spoiled in that little town, if her home was anything like Bilbo's had been. She'd never spent long days of training, hunting, or long nights in the wilderness living off of what you could find in preparation for an expedition of this nature.

"Is that how one spends their days in the Shire, eating buttered rolls?" he teased. Though there was something in his eyes that told Aneira he was only half-joking.

"Of course not every day," she said. "…I spent a lot of my time reading and pretending to sow. Mum would never let me handle the needle—"

"Did you never go outside?" Kili asked.

"Not all the time. I preferred staying inside after we finished our lessons…my brother was always the one to be running around bothering the neighbors." She was beginning to grow curious as to where this line of questioning was going with that petulant look in his eye.

"What, did they not have work to do during the daytime?"

"Some were old hobbits, retired, and all they did was sit outside and watch their grandchildren play with the other neighbor children and watch the townsfolk pass by. Where is this going, anyway?" she asked, letting out a bit of the annoyance she was feeling.

"Nothing, it just seems to me that life in Hobbiton seems pretty lax," Kili said, feigning innocence. She gave him an offended look.

"Maybe for the children and the elders, but whoever isn't set for life has to work like everyone else," she said tersely. Maybe it was her hunger making her snappish, but at the moment she hardly cared. Bilbo beside her was oddly silent. She would have expected him to add to her defense of living in the Shire, but then she realized his position.

He was one of the few who were set for life. His family was notorious for being…well, not extremely wealthy, but well off enough not to work so hard for necessities. His house was comprised of generations of mementoes and passed-down luxuries, and was large enough to fit two families, or at least, more than one Baggins.

"I didn't mean any offense," Kili said with a shrug. Inwardly he was annoyed that Fili was saying nothing, seemingly amused at how his brother was digging himself a hole to lie in.

"Well, maybe you should think before calling my family a bunch of spoon-fed layabouts."

"Hey, I never said that!" he said indignantly.

Bofur and Bombur shared a knowing glance. Bofur smirked while Bombur simply smiled and shook his head at how the two behind them were arguing. Bofur knew it would eventually blow over after the lad got a swift, proverbial kick in the pants, but listening to their little "spat" was entertainment enough to keep his mind of the forest that was keeping him continuously on edge.

Inwardly Bofur rolled his eyes.

Leave it to a woman to put words in the boy's mouth.

Mahal forbid he say something wrong while she was in a bad mood, and give him a wiser tongue than the lad's when things went sour.

Hmm, usually he's so quick on charm, he thought in amusement.

"It just seemed to me—"

"You might as well have, because that's what you were implying."

"Now, wait just a minute—"

Fili mentally sighed. Trust Kili to put his foot in his mouth, then swallow it whole.

"Aneira, he didn't mean anything by it," he attempted to mediate, but she wasn't having any of it. And rightly so for once, he thought. His brother was being an idiot as usual.

"He sure did! And I'll have you know the people of Hobbiton are a working people just as dwarves are—"

"Aneira, I never said they weren't," Kili said in exasperation. "I was just—oof!"

He walked straight into Bofur, who had stopped short.

"Enough lad, we've got bigger problems," the dwarf said over his shoulder. Kili huffed and looked ahead, to realize Bofur was right.

Before them was a wide river that cut across the forest. A dense fog swirled above it, obscuring their view of the other side, where it ended. There appeared to once have been a bridge to cross it, but the wood had rotted and fallen into the water below. Luckily, washed up on the bank was an old boat that Bilbo spotted off to the side.

"It has no oars," Dwalin pointed out. "How are we to get across?"

"Why don't we just swim across?" asked Nori.

"I certainly dare not," muttered Bilbo. Aneira couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"These waters are sure to be enchanted if what the wizard said is true," said Thorin. "We have rope…"

"We can use the hooks attaching our packs," suggested Fili, pointing to the numerous iron hooks connecting their bags to their shoulders, courtesy of Beorn. "We can tie the rope to two hooks and throw them as far as we can across into the trees, the ground, wherever they land. Then we just…pull ourselves across."

Several of them murmured their agreement, thinking the solution sound. Thorin regarded his nephew with approval, perhaps even veiled pride.

"That's an idea," he said, and nodded. He then handed his nephew another end of rope. "Hold this."

He instructed Dwalin and Balin to join him first, for the boat was small and old and would most likely only carry the weight of three to four of them. The first crossing went relatively smoothly. When the three were on the other side, Thorin tied a hook to one of the ropes and, along with the other two already connecting to the trees above, secured them on an iron ring attached to the end of the boat.

"Now, Fili, pull it back to you."

Fili nodded in comprehension and pulled on the rope he held, successfully bringing back the boat to the other side. In this way they managed to send over Ori, Dori, Nori, and Gloin; Oin, Bifur, Bofur, and Kili; and last, Fili, Bilbo, Aneira and Bombur.

"Why am I always last?" Bombur muttered in annoyance. "It's unfair."

"Because you weigh the most," Fili pointed out dryly. His limbs ached from pulling the boat back so many times, and though Aneira was helping him get them across, Fili didn't see Bombur doing anything to support his mass. The others had gotten along much faster, and it didn't take a scholar to figure out as to why that was. Thorin had pointedly told Bombur he was to ride with the lightest load for that very reason.

"It's all right," Aneira tried to pacify him as she tugged along the second rope, though her heart wasn't in it. "Soon, we'll be on the other side."

At least, she hoped. A dip in the murky waters below wasn't an appealing venture, but the boat seemed dingy and less than adequate with its wood splintering and rusted iron.

What are we doing here? she thought in frustration. They'd endured this abysmal jungle for nearly a week now, so long that their provisions most likely wouldn't last. So far she'd almost been eaten by trolls and a monstrous bear (no matter if the bear was really a man, the fear had been very real and warranted), knocked off the side of a cliff by giants, and nearly tortured and killed by goblins. Not to mention hunted across the country by an orc pack led by a creature with a grudge against her supposed leader, who could care less if she lived long enough to reach the end of this quest.

Anger and frustration fueled her task of pulling the rope, but her thoughts were loud enough to keep her distracted, no matter how much she tried to focus on only what was in front of her.

There is only so much time until Durin's Day…at this rate, we'll never make it.

"I told you."

"What?" she asked breathlessly, eyes wide and searching her surroundings. That voice…

"What?" Fili said distractedly, murmuring a curse as he pulled a stick out of their path.

"Did someone say…"

"No one said anything," Bombur said irritably. His mood was still sour, obviously, but that didn't help Aneira in any case. She turned over her shoulder to look at Bilbo, but he only shook his head.

"I could have sworn I heard…"

"I told you this would happen!"

Her breath caught in her throat, and she nearly dropped the rope.

"Hey!" Fili protested. "I'm doing all the work here. Come on, Aneira, we're nearly at the bank."

"I heard—I heard…"

Aeron…

"What have you been doing out here? I knew you wouldn't even make it half way. You're not even trying to save us!"

He was angry with her, and she knew he had every right to be.

"I am trying," she said weakly. But he's never been so harsh.

"Well, try harder," Fili griped. "It's just a few more feet."

"Obviously not enough. You know, Mother probably won't be here by the time you get back," he said coldly. Aneira snapped her head to the side at the sound, trying to pinpoint where exactly he was.

"All right, Bilbo, you get out first," said Fili. The hobbit nodded and shakily stood up, accepting the dwarf's help to climb out onto the shore. Thorin and Kili reached out from the other side to help him avoid touching the water while the rest of the dwarves stood waiting.

"Where are you?" she whispered raggedly. The twine she held was rubbing abrasively into her hands with how tightly she was holding onto it.

"What?" asked Fili. Bilbo turned in concern and even Bombur looked over in confusion.

"Aneira, all you all right?" Kili asked. She didn't seem to hear him, staring out behind him to something he couldn't see. Her eyes were wide and wild, and she tried backing away but faltered in her step. The boat tittered on both sides in protest, especially as Bombur tried to stand.

"What's the matter?" Thorin snapped.

"Bombur, don't!" Fili shouted as he himself stumbled, but managed to catch himself.

Aneira both felt and heard her own erratic heartbeat as she shook off the sensation of a familiar hand on her shoulder, though it was cold and fleeting, as if it had never been.

"So disappointing." This was different. Deeper and reverberating in her mind like a memory, or an echo of one that emanated from directly behind her.

She gasped and turned to the sound. The motion was too quick for being upon the boat, however, and her arm that accidentally flew into Bombur's chest in her haste, also sent him careening out of balance. His yelp of surprise shocked her out of her reverie enough for her to reach out for him belatedly, but the dwarf fell back into the water with a heavy splash.

"B-Bombur!" she exclaimed, though the boat tipped backwards with the sudden weight loss as a hand grasped her arm and dragged her backwards. She and Fili fell back against the boat, but miraculously weren't dumped into the river.

"He's drowning!" Bofur cried from the edge of the bank, as far as he dared, but in a moment he would abandon all safety if the two didn't get their act together. Mercifully, Fili and Aneira were able to scramble to their feet and reach the other side where Bombur's hand still reached above the surface of the water.

"He's too far," Fili shouted in frustration, but an idea made Aneira reach back for the hook and rope attached to the front of the boat. She threw it toward Bombur's hand, calling his name and silently willing him, pleading with him to hear.

Before the dwarf was entirely sunk, Bombur's hand closed on the hook, and Fili and Aneira frantically pulled him to shore, even as they struggled to get onto land. Thorin, Dwalin, Bofur, and Kili helped them, of course, but it was a strange sight to see Bombur, drenched from hood to toe, and fast asleep. Snoring, to be sure, and clenching the hook with a vengeance.

It was a long and silent moment before Dwalin asked, "Well, now what?"

"Now, we must move on," Thorin said, exhaustion and exasperation thick in his tone and demeanor.

"And Bombur?" asked Bilbo. Bofur and Bifur had tried everything to wake him: desperate pleas, promises of pain, promises of food, physical motivation (shaking and gentle slapping), but nothing had worked.

Thorin gave Bilbo a peeved glance, then shifted his gaze icily to Aneira next to him. She ducked her head in shame, unwilling to meet his stare.

"Thanks to our stowaway, we must take turns carrying him. She will start, along with Bofur and Bifur."

"Uncle, she cannot carry the likes of Bombur," Kili said with a humorless, disbelieving chuckle. He looked over at Aneira, viewing her silent vigil of the ground with mild concern. Even with Bofur and Bifur's help it would be difficult for their already exhausted limbs. Hers especially, as she'd just helped Fili pull the boat across the river.

"If you're so keen to second guess me then you can help pull him as well," Thorin snapped angrily, then turned on his heel. "We move on."

Kili sighed and ignored Fili's exasperated look, even as he joined his brother in grabbing hold of the rope with Bofur, Bifur, and Aneira.

"You two don't have to do this," Aneira said quietly. She avoided their gaze.

"What happened back there anyway?" Kili asked. He turned to his brother displaying his mild surprised that Fili was helping, as it was his own big mouth that got him into this. Fili said nothing, but wore an obstinate look Kili knew well. He understood it as, "you're an idiot, but I'm with you anyway."

Bofur looked up with veiled annoyance as they began pulling.

"That's a marvelous question, lass," he added. "You looked like you saw a deer fly overhead."

She shook her head, and it took her a moment to answer.

"I…I heard something." Her voice was small and confused.

"That much was obvious," Fili said gently, again surprising Kili, "but what did you hear that scared you so badly?"

Her brows furrowed as her mouth pulled downward in a frown. Kili noted the concealed pain in her expression.

"I thought I heard my brother's voice…he was angry and accusing, and it wasn't like him at all, but it sounded so real…I could have sworn he was right behind me," she said.

"What did he say?" asked Kili. She stubbornly shook her head, discreetly wiping under her eyes as she stared forward. Fili sent him a look that told him not to press her, though Kili knew he was just as curious.

"Well…it was only an illusion, lass," Bofur tried to sooth, and took his hand away from the rope for a moment to squeeze her shoulder briefly. "Best not to dwell on it."

She said nothing.

Kili wouldn't pry. He wasn't curious enough to prompt her again, though he knew there was something else she wasn't sharing.

Not even mildly concerned.

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?" Thorin exclaimed.

His aggravation was palpable at this point, but that was an understatement.

"My head is spinning!" Oin muttered. "What's happening?"

"Keep going," said Dwalin.

"Nori, why have you stopped?" said Thorin.

"What's going on?" asked Ori.

"The path, it's disappeared!" exclaimed Nori. Thorin made a noise of frustration as Dori lamented.

"We've lost the path!"

"Find it, all of you! Look!" Thorin directed quickly. He felt control slipping out of his hands like water and it made him want to tear his hair out. This all couldn't have been in vain. He hadn't come this far to be bested by a forest.

"I don't remember this place," said Balin, forgetting that this was because they had crossed the river passed the area they had already spent a week exploring. "None of it's familiar."

"That's because we're lost," Bilbo said tiredly. They'd been wandering for hours with no sense of direction.

"We are not lost. We keep heading east," Thorin said stubbornly.

"But which way is east? We've lost the sun!" Dwalin said in frustration.

"Wait," said Bilbo, earning the attention of several of the dwarves. "I have an idea."

Air.

Air and sunlight—a wonderful setting sun, and it was perfect. The wind rattled the leaves, a beautiful sound in Bilbo's ears that drowned out the sounds of grumbling and complaining below.

"I…I can see," he said with awe at the landscape, and laughed a little to himself with pure relief and joy. "I can see a lake! And a river…and the Lonely Mountain! We're almost there!"

He looked down to call to the dwarves below, "Can you hear me? I know where to go!"

When he received no response, he frowned and found he could no longer hear their grumbling, even when he concentrated.

"Hello?"

He stepped down reluctantly back into the tree and into darkness once more. But instead of meeting the rough bark of the tree limb, he felt a sticky substance underfoot. He looked down to see the threads of a web.

"H-Hello?" Bilbo said quietly. Something in the base of his stomach dropped, and though there was no dwarf to be found below, he had the eerie suspicion he wasn't alone. "T-Thorin?"

He reached for the nearest tree branch to pull himself out of what held his feet captive, until he felt a heavy bounce on the web.

Bilbo looked up into several eyes and long, shining fangs.

His own scream was the last thing he remembered.