Chapter 12: Low Health

The ground was covered in rotting leaves, thorny bushes, and patches of mud...but was absolutely lacking a path of any kind.

Quinn squatted and pressed her fingers to her temples. She'd circled the tree a dozen times (and thank god that hadn't disappeared too) but hadn't found so much as an animal track. It was as though she'd landed in the middle of the forest.

She couldn't help but think of the Lost Woods in another one of her favorite Zelda games. People who lost their way would wander around in circles until they were nothing more than skeletons.

I am going to be one hungry skeleton. She let out a shaky sigh and stood up. Things had gone from bad to worse, but she had just told herself that she wasn't a quitter. Sitting around and being afraid wasn't going to do shit.

So she started wandering, with no direction and no way to tell time. The only indication that time was passing at all was the growing black hole where her stomach was supposed to be. Even ancient warriors, it seemed, got hungry.

"French toast. Cheetos. Soft serve ice cream. Baked potatoes. Fruit snacks. Pizza." Quinn counted each item on her fingers. She'd find a way to get her hands on those, or whatever the Middle-earth equivalent was, and eat it all as soon as she got out of this fucking forest.

After a few more walk-sleep cycles, she realized fantasizing about different Slurpee flavors was just making her more hungry. It was hard to think about anything else, though. When her stomach wasn't making paper-shredder noises, it was rolling around like a dryer machine on high. Like she'd have anything to throw up.

This annoying clicking noise had started, too, though she couldn't recall when. Quinn didn't remember ever learning about that as a symptom of starvation. It took her a while to realize the noise wasn't coming from her head, but rather from above. She turned towards the source.

Eight eyes blinked down at her, then lunged.

"Motherfucker!" Quinn barely managed to dodge in time. She threw herself onto her stomach, skidding across the slick layer of leaves. The huge, eight-legged monstrosity landed just behind her and turned around with skittering motions that set her skin crawling.

It took more effort than it should have for her to push herself back up. Clumsily, she drew her sword as the giant spider hissed at her.

"Let's see how you like sword lasers," she said, and swung her blade at the monster.

Nothing happened.

Quinn spat out a curse and glanced upwards. The canopy was too thick to allow any beams of light through, and without it, her sword was useless. Or as useless as a sharp metal thing could be.

The spider clicked its pincers and charged. Quinn backed away rapidly, stumbling over rocks and branches in her haste. Aim for...her scrambled mind struggled to remember. Aim for the underbelly.

Just before it reached her, the spider reared up on its hind legs. The movement revealed a patch of flesh between two plates of its hardened carapace.

Well, that's convenient. Quinn stepped forward, taking advantage of the opening, and plunged her sword into the spider's weak spot. At the same time, something pierced her leg just below the knee, and she hissed in pain.

She jerked her sword out, bringing a string of sticky, orange blood with it. With a strained clicking noise, the spider twitched and died.

Right on top of her.

Quinn was too dizzy to move out of the way in time. She fell to the ground and grunted as the spider's weight came down in full force. Her vision blurred. She blinked rapidly as the dim leaves overhead became blotches of muted color.

What in the...the… Even her thoughts were coming as a jumbled mess. The weight of the spider on her chest seemed to be pressing more and more air from her lungs.

In sophomore year of high school, she'd had to read The Crucible for her English class. All she could think of in that moment was the scene where they'd crushed one of the dudes under a bunch of stone.

If the last thing I think of before I die is a fucking play from English class, I'm gonna...

Quinn dreamed she was in a hibachi restaurant. Beorn was the hibachi chef (and was only wearing an apron and a chef's hat, not that that had anything to do with anything). He was trying in vain to cook a bunch of bees, which kept flying away from his spatulas.

She took a bite of her food and winced as it crunched against her teeth. Half of a spider was pinched between her chopsticks. The other half had probably just chipped some of her teeth.

"That's what happens when you chew on an Everlasting Gobstopper," said Willy Wonka, except he was played by James Franco instead of Johnny Depp.

Quinn woke with a scream, but no noise came out since her lungs were still being compressed by the giant spider on top of her. She groaned as a shooting pain pierced her temples. Her head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton. Quickly, she checked to make sure her teeth were all intact.

She managed to maneuver her arms so they were bent and tried to push the spider off. Her muscles screamed with the effort, and after a while, she had to let the carcass drop back on top of her.

Her stomach growled again.

So much for ancient warrior strength. Quinn groaned again. She was stuck in a screwed up fantasy version of 127 Hours, but she had no idea which limb she was supposed to cut off to get out of this one.

"What would Beorn do?" she asked herself, though her voice came out as nothing more than a rasp. W...W...Y...B...what fucking acronym is that?

Not helping. How do I get out of this?

If the forest gets flooded, the spider will float on the surface of the water and lift up on its own.

What...the fuck?

It was like trying to do math homework. Quinn couldn't get her brain to focus and do something productive. The only clarity she could achieve was the near-all-consuming urge to find something to eat.

And she couldn't do that while she was trapped under a spider.

She squirmed and wriggled, chafing against the slimy leaves on the ground. It wasn't without a good amount of bruises and scrapes, but eventually she began to make some progress. After another dizzy handful of minutes, she'd finally worked herself free of the spider.

Quinn staggered to her feet and swayed a little. She looked down at her leg and found a tear in her pants. Underneath was a swollen red spot, the center of which was oozing...something.

She swallowed hard as nausea swelled up again. The spider must have stung her before it went down. It didn't hurt much to put her weight on that leg, so she took a hearty swig of water and continued on.

Her legs could barely carry her more than a few yards. Quinn collapsed against a tree and drank the rest of the water, desperate for something to fill her stomach. Her whole body felt leaden and weak.

Her money was on dying within the next few days. Which sucked, because she'd gone out here to help the dwarves. They wouldn't even know what had happened to her. Neither would Beorn.

The hand holding the waterskin flopped to the side and struck something spongy. Quinn turned her gaze to the side and her eyes widened.

Mushrooms. Those were technically food, right?

She picked one up and examined it. The shiny green cap was a little slimy and the whole surface was a bit damp. But mushrooms were technically a vegetable...or something. If she was going to eat, she might as well eat healthy.

Quinn held the mushroom up and took a big bite.

Someone had turned on the lights. Mirkwood was flooded with it, like there had been lamps in the trees and someone had just flicked the switch. There were also strobe lights, and laser beams, and why was she in a rave?

There was pounding music coming from somewhere. Quinn wanted to turn her head to look around, but she didn't know how.

At least she didn't feel hungry anymore. That mushroom had really filled her up.

"And it didn't break your teeth this time," said another mushroom. This one was also played by James Franco.

"Why is everything vibrating?" Quinn asked James Francshroom. "And who turned on the lights? Also, what if someone floods the forest? Also, what did you do with Johnny Depp?"

The vibrating was making her really itchy. She tried to scratch at her jaw, but her hands kept missing.

"Ecogel eke iffat lo huelo cig autopsia. Dasi rom cexa. Hiseg egidio samoyed ler luta geedaha."

"You're so right." Quinn nodded, and the whole world spun out of control. "Woah."

When she came back, the trees were moving. She wondered where they were trying to go.

"Did you find the rest of the pack?" shouted one of the trees.

"Just the one. It looked as though it had already been killed," another tree screamed back.

"By one of the dwarves?"

"It is possible."

"Good lord, you don't have to speak so loud," Quinn said.

The trees melted and splashed against the ground. A red-orange shape appeared in their place. When it moved, it left a trail of red and orange behind it. As it came closer, terror shot through her chest.

"Woah, woah, woah, okay." She tried to back away, but her hands kept sinking into the ground and wouldn't move her anywhere. "Oh, there's my hands."

The blob gained features as it got closer, but it was still too much of a Snapchat filter for her to actually see anything.

A sigh wooshed through the clearing. "What possessed you to eat the mushrooms of Mirkwood?"

Finally, the thing came into focus, and Quinn could have cried with relief. "Kate from Lost." Her chest shook with sobs. "And you're not being played by James Franco."

Not-James-Franco sighed again and turned to talk to another blob. "This one needs a healer. Help me."

Something was lifting her arms on either side. Quinn groaned as her shoulders protested. "Careful, careful. Please keep my arms on."

"Bye bye," said the James Franco mushroom, and then she was falling up into the sky.

Someone was holding her hair back with one hand and supporting her chest with the other. Quinn retched again, and watched with a grimace as the last of the mushroom fell into the bucket on the floor.

"Are you finished?"

"Ugh." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sat up. "I have the worst headache right now. Maddy, did you—" She looked up and froze. "You're not Maddy."

The person supporting her was an elf. Her long red hair was pinned back from her face, and her elegant features were slightly pinched with concern. "Who is Maddy?"

"A friend from, uh, from home. Usually the one holding my hair back when I'm puking my guts out." And boy, did she wish she had just come back from a wild night out instead of almost dying in a cursed forest.

Quinn wiped her mouth again and swallowed to try and get rid of the awful taste in her mouth.

The elf pushed a cup into her hand. "Drink."

The water was cool against her sore throat. She drained the cup, swishing it a couple times to try and clear out her mouth. "Thanks."

Now that the room had stopped spinning, she was able to get a better look at her surroundings. She was sitting on a cot in what must have been the elves' version of an infirmary—there were several other cots around the room and some cabinets of what must have been medical supplies. Unlike Rivendell, the walls here were made of stone and unadorned, as though they'd decided to set up shop in a cave. A couple of the same strange lamps from the last elven city illuminated the room.

"Do you guys have electricity here?" Quinn asked, tilting her head back to look at them. "Or am I still tripping?"

"Most of the toxins have left your body," the elf said. "You should rest. When we found you in the forest you were half-starved and delirious."

"I remember some of that." Her body felt sluggish and weak, so she lay back down. "Speaking of half-starved, do you guys have cheeseburgers here?"

She frowned. "I'm...not sure what you're referring to."

"That's fine. I'll eat pretty much anything at this point."

The elf cocked a brow and glanced down at the bucket. "That much was clear. I'll send for someone to bring you something to eat."

Quinn let out a sigh of relief. "You're the best, uh…"

"Tauriel."

"Hi. I'm Quinn." She glanced down at herself. Someone had taken off her armor, but she was still wearing the clothing underneath, including her disgusting socks. A bandage was wrapped around her leg, where she'd been stung by the spider. "Where am I?"

"You are in the halls of the Elvenking of the Greenwood." Tauriel assumed a more formal posture as she said this.

Beorn had said something about elves before he'd sent her off—not to provoke them. She eyed Tauriel a little more warily. "Well, thanks for saving me."

She received a nod in return. "No thanks is necessary. It is my duty to keep the Greenwood safe."

"I thought this place was called Mirkwood."

Tauriel's expression darkened. "Some have given it that name. Spiders and other foul creatures have crept forth and spread darkness among these lands. It is through great effort that we have kept them at bay."

Quinn nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, those fuckers are hard to kill."

A smile twitched on her lips. "You've been the topic of several discussions since your arrival here. Rumor has it your sword has special properties. And I have never seen armor such as yours before. Which king do you serve?"

"Uh." She blinked. "Yeah. My sword can shoot lase—beams of light. And I'm not really serving a king at the moment. I'm more of a freelancer, really."

"Free-lancer?" Tauriel sounded out the word. "You are not a knight, then? Are you a mercenary?"

"No. Maybe? I don't know." Quinn held up her hands. "I wasn't expecting some kind of Spanish Inquisition." She looked around. Nothing happened.

"My apologies." She pressed her lips together and straightened again. "But my king will want to know who you are and why you have crossed our borders."

"You don't want people crossing your borders, you should guard them more carefully," she replied. Hunger was making her irritable. "Build a wall or something. That'll keep the spiders out."

Tauriel frowned and said nothing for a moment. "When you are recovered, my lord Thranduil will speak to you in person. I will ensure that you are fed." With that, she turned and left the room.

Quinn sighed and pressed her palms over her face. Did I really just tell an elf to build a wall as a means of border control?

She managed to doze off until her stomach caused enough of a mini San Andreas to wake her again. The room was empty, but someone had left a plate of food on the bedside table.

"Oh, thank god." Quinn nearly upended the dish in her haste to grab it. The elves had left her some bread, cheese, and cubes of some sort of melon. They could have given her Sonic's Pickle Juice Slush and she still would have scarfed it down. Her stomach felt like someone had turned it inside out.

The click of the door opening made her pause after only a few mouthfuls. She watched with wide eyes as the door swung open of its own volition, then closed again. Swallowing with a wince, she sat up straighter. "Hello?"

In the middle of the room, Bilbo just appeared and began walking towards her.

Quinn screamed and held up her fork and knife to form a cross. "What the fuck? I knew I was still hallucinating!"

Bilbo gave her the most violent "Shh," she'd ever heard and crept over to her bed. "Keep your voice down! I'd really like not to get caught here."

She lowered her utensils but didn't relax entirely. "You can turn invisible? How? Where are the dwarves? What are you doing here?"

"Lower. Your. Voice," Bilbo said, doing a perfect impression of an exasperated fourth grade teacher. "And I could ask you the very same thing."

"I can't turn invisible," she replied, dialing her voice down to a whisper. "And I don't know where the dwarves are. Oh. You're asking what I'm doing here."

He sighed and nodded, looking very tired.

"Sorry. I'm really hungry." Quinn shoved a piece of melon into her mouth. "Basically, I decided to follow you guys into Mirkwood 'cause I wanted to help, but I kind of got fucked up on the way so the elves had to take me back here."

Bilbo glanced at the bandage on her leg, as though noticing it for the first time, and frowned. "Are you all right?"

"Hungry." She swallowed and grabbed a piece of cheese. "What about you?"

"The dwarves were captured by the elves a week ago. I managed to avoid getting taken, and I've been hiding ever since, trying to find a way to get the dwarves out of the dungeons."

Quinn nodded slowly. Things were starting to come together, and her head was getting less fuzzy. Dwarves and elves didn't like each other, so that explained that. "So you can turn invisible? Is that a hobbit ability?"

"No." Bilbo shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I just—well, I found something. A ring. When I put it on it makes me invisible."

"Neat," she said, then tilted her head. A ring?

"What is it?"

"Something about that seems...important, but I don't know why." She shrugged it off. "You hungry?"

"I'm fine."

"This is the third time you've glanced at my food." Quinn moved the plate so it was between them. "Have some."

Bilbo shook his head. "Really, I-I'm—"

"You gotta eat something. I'm, uh, allergic to bread, and I don't want it to go to waste."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I got celiac or something. C'mon, I don't mind sharing. They'll probably bring me more food later."

"All right. If you insist." Bilbo climbed up onto the bed and they spend the next few minutes eating in silence.

"So, do you have a plan yet? For breaking the dwarves out?" Quinn asked once the plate had been entirely cleared.

"Well, I know where the keys to the cells are. I just need to find a way to get them out without the guards knowing...and a way to get out of the place itself."

She thought back to all the prison breakouts she'd seen in movies. "I think you should start a prison riot. Open all the cells at once, then smuggle the dwarves out during the confusion."

"Quinn, the only prisoners there are the dwarves."

"Oh. That sucks." She straightened. "But don't worry. I've played A Way Out. I'll think of something."

"Okay, here's what we got so far." Quinn listed the ideas on her fingers. "Find a trash chute and escape through the basement. Build paragliders and get the dwarves to the roof so they can escape through the air. Find a garbage or laundry truck and smuggle them inside. Build a catapult and get the dwarves to the roof so they can escape through the air. Pay off the guards. Find salsa and use it to wear down the bars so—"

"I don't think any of those are going to work." Bilbo rubbed his face with his hands.

"At least try to find an escape route. Top floor or bottom floor's gotta have something. And, if you have time, try and find some salsa because I am really craving Mexican right now."

He nodded. "I'll keep looking. I don't know if I'll have any luck finding this salsa, though."

"That's fine." She noticed how tired he was, with his drooping shoulders, and reached over to pat his back. "Don't worry. You got this, Lil B."

"I certainly hope so." Bilbo turned to her. "What did you just call me?"

"Lil B. That's your nickname." She frowned. "Wait, is it racist to say you're little?"

"Is it what?" He shook his head. "Never mind. I should probably get going, anyway." He slid off the bed and turned to her. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"When… If I free the dwarves, what will you do? I suppose you'd like to come along, but I doubt Thorin will allow that."

"Right." Quinn drummed her fingers on her knee. "I mean, at least I'm not stuck in some prison cell, so I'm mostly free to do what I want. You just tell me when you're gonna bust the dwarves out, and I'll try and cover for you. It's the least I can do." What she would do after that was up in the air, but she had come to help the dwarves, and this was the way to do it.

"Thank you. I'll let you know once I've come up with a plan." Bilbo turned to go.

"And if you ever want any more snacks, you know where to find me," she called after him.

He gave her a brief smile, and in the next moment he disappeared.

"That is so cool." She settled back onto the bed. "I should get myself a magic ring."

Quinn was content to spend the next few days resting, eating, and regaining her strength. After spending so long in that nightmare of a forest, it was nice to be able to relax without having to worry about giant spiders or slimy creeks.

The elves who took care of her were polite, if a bit more taciturn than the ones in Rivendell. Though she supposed that was reasonable considering they lived in a stone fortress in the middle of a creepy forest.

The next time she saw Tauriel was three days after her arrival. The elf entered the room, her back ramrod straight as usual.

Quinn looked down at her. She was standing on the bed, and had been trying to get a better look at the lamps hanging from the ceiling. If these elves actually did have electricity, that was going to open up a whole new realm of possibilities.

"I trust you have regained your strength?" Tauriel asked, one brow rising as she took in her position.

"Oh, yeah." Quinn leapt down off the bed, and was satisfied when she stuck the landing. "I feel great. Was getting kind of bored, actually."

Another brow joined the first, giving her a slightly amused expression. "I suppose that is why you were inspecting the ceiling so thoroughly?"

"I just wanna know how your lamps work."

Her lips twitched, and she gestured for Quinn to follow as she left the room. "The magic of our realm gives light to our halls."

"It's just magic? Oh." Boring.

As they walked through the corridor, she realized the rest of the elf kingdom was anything but. It was like Rivendell in a way, with its open spaces, leafy groves, and flowing waterfalls. However, most of it was underground. Winding pathways ran from platform to courtyard to hallway like branches of a large, stone tree. Quinn had to watch her step more than once as she gawked at her surroundings.

Tauriel smiled. "Impressive, is it not?"

"Yeah." Her head swiveled from side to side as they crossed a bridge with intricate tree carvings on either side. "This is some great design. Uh, where are we going, by the way?"

"I am bringing you to King Thranduil. He has asked to speak with you once you recovered."

"Oh." Quinn was torn between flattered and wary. "Did he say why?"

Tauriel shook her head, making her long red tresses sway. It was long enough that Quinn wondered if she ever sat on it by accident. "He did seem quite interested in your sword."

"Well, it is a cool sword. Not for sale, though."

They reached a winding pathway that cut through a large, open area. At the end of it, Quinn could see a pair of what looked like giant moose antlers. With nerves fluttering in her stomach, she followed Tauriel down the path.

The antlers turned out to be part of a throne on a raised dais. An elf with freakily neat, long blond hair was seated on it, and the crown keeping said hair in place was evidence enough as to who the he was. As Quinn drew closer, she realized her sword was resting across his knees.

Once they passed the two guards at the entrance and reached the platform below the throne, Tauriel bowed, and Quinn awkwardly copied her movement. "My lord, I have brought the warrior you wished to speak with."

"You may leave us." Thranduil didn't even look up, his gaze focused on the blade in his lap.

Tauriel straightened and left. With slow steps, Quinn went to stand in the middle of the platform. She clasped her hands behind her back, unsure what else to do with them.

Thranduil finally looked up, and his eyes sharpened with recognition. "I thought it might be you, when I recognized your blade."

She blinked. Uh oh.

"Welcome, Belekur, to the halls of the Greenwood."

Believe it or not, this is my first time writing Tauriel's character (my crackfics don't count) so any criticism on that end would be much appreciated!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Huge thanks to drwatsonn for reviewing! And please feel free to review for this chapter as well; it means a lot to me.